Screaming Without a Sound

Screaming without a sound

Warning: The following may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

 

My family gave me a life that wasn’t easy to live.

 

They raped me, emotionally and physically abused me and threw me away like worthless trash. That was the price tag put on my self-worth.

 

They distorted my perception of love and stomped out my dreams. They robbed me of my innocence, pillaged my being, and left me suffocating in shame, beckoning at death’s door.

 

The baggage of all the damage done was a heavy weight to carry but I DIDN’T shy away, I DID NOT back down because, you see, the worst in life, I had already been through. I had already lived and I had survived.

 

I was weak when I walked away and for years I stood alone, staring at the wreckage of myself in the mirror. At one point, I didn’t think I could last not a day longer in the midst of all my pain.

 

The anger in my veins had a current all it’s own and my pain spoke boldly out of my eyes. I needed my life to make sense. I was exhausted from living in darkness, I wanted the bright colors of the world to shine down into the deepest, darkest parts of my soul, I wanted them to awaken my spirit, I wanted to swallow them, dance among them, become them, so I never ever had to live outside the arms of the sun.

 

I stood there naked, no longer willing to hide, realizing that my past wasn’t worth running from. All the time I’d spent running was getting in the way of finding the better parts of me.

 

I woke up in that moment, screaming without a sound, knowing that I was out there somewhere and not that far away. I was within my reach. I needed to search, I need to dig deep. I need to find and focus on the best that I could be.

 

I return to that mirror every day and I count all my blessings, all the things I could have lost if I’d have kept on keeping those secrets, disguising the truth and running away from my pain.

 

I return knowing my exact worth.

 

I return knowing that, I, myself am PRICELESS!

 

From the personal journal of Kerri Bishop Reece
written October 10, 2014
© Kerri Bishop Reece | Kerri Chronicles

 

Read more of Kerri’s Personal Journal:

A lost soul- A Story of Suicide and Saving Graces
My Mother Legacy of Shame – An Open Letter – From Me, the Daughter She Didn’t Protect
My Very First Memory