Let me try to explain
I was 19 when he said
I hear myself in other people
6 when he pushed me, 9 when the divorce was final, final being a loose term
how long did the custody battle last?
Um..well… always…I mean it stopped when she got sick.
How old was I then? um 13
When she died? 16
“But now you live in the city and work at Juilliard?”
Yeah…
When did I last feel safe? ummm…
“But you like your work?”
Yes, yes, because
I hear myself in other people
Don’t you?
Don’t you see yourself in the faces
in the hearts
in unfamiliar places
“I hear myself in other people” he said
he said we’re not alone
he said most people can’t seem
to quiet the voices
escape the noises
he said I’d been through hell
he said he was sorry
that it wasn’t fair
he told me he loved me
(he always tells me he loves me, huh?)
That we all wake up scared
But people are acorns
here to grow better things
I believed him
I cried that day as the rain hit our wind sheild
I cried at the happiness, the love I felt
with him, for him, my dad
my dad who so tragically makes me so so sad
Flash forward
Flashback
Trauma, Distress, Panic Attack
He screamed at me last night
after this year?
what’s wrong with my eyes
they’re doing that empty thing again in the mirror
why can’t I stop sleeping
why can’t I stop!
looking for things to make me smile
I stand, I sit
I stand, I sit
do the dishes!
no, I can’t
someone filled my body with concrete
someone turned me to stone
and it’s taking everything to hold my head up,
make my muscles move my bones
it’s taking everything to look back at the world
the world where he said he saw me
where he said pretty gentle things
and still…there’s his voice…screaming at me, again
and again
and again
and I’m here
I’m still here
“Victoria, breathe, it’s ok, you’re not a little girl, you’re not a little girl anymore”
Is that real?
It’s hot?
It’s summer
It’s raining.
How am I supposed to feel?
I want to vomit
I want to die
Emotional abuse is like a bad taste you can’t shake
a bad day that feels fake
“Victoria, have you heard children asked to testify before they reach adolescence suffer irreparable damage? They struggle to define their reality and feel severely disoriented in their adult lives”
irreparable?
there it is, there comes the fear, the grief
the too quick breaths
the I can’t help myself
oh my god, oh my god
it’s not about feeling sorry
it’s about the petrified
it’s about horrific repetition
a cracked china doll
breaking everyone else’s falls
1, 2, 3, 4
1, 2, 3, 4
breathe
what?
I’m 24?
Are you sure?
gasp
frozen still
Sorry…Did you hear that?
someone, somewhere slammed a door
it made me jump
but I’m ok
Is someone screaming?
Sorry…no, I’m ok.
Yeah, I’m doing much better
just trying to stay awake.
The phone rings..
Hi Dad.
“Hey love, what are you up to?”
Just hanging out.
Empty conversations holding space before catastrophe, too many times to count.