It may get hairy…

What if…

Here it comes again. Serious time, sorry okes. Let’s just hope this one doesn’t come with any repercussions. To any who read this, this isn’t a message, I promise, there are no hard feelings, I do understand, more than you can imagine and I don’t mind discussing it, this is just something that needs to be let out to the cyberverse: 

What if something terrible happened to you? Something terrible happens to you, you deal with it. You pick yourself up, brush yourself off, go through the stages and move on. Easier said than done, but what if you can’t deal with it? What if you have to keep quiet to prevent others from hurting? What if, you can’t move on?

What if people forgot something terrible happened to you?

Words have meaning and sometimes those meanings are thrust upon us like fists in the night. Hypothetically: You know someone who was murdered – after you find out, you’ll never use the word without understanding the connotations. You don’t flippantly say ‘I could murder a hotdog,’ because now murder means so much more to you. If you are relating a movie, a news story or anything involving the word ‘murder,’ where you have to use it, the word becomes heavy. You can’t help but pause before it, or rush through it. In the mere fact of trying to say the word without inflection, you bring attention to it. The word now has impact and saying it loosely becomes impossible.

What if people you loved and who loved you, used a word like that flippantly…forgetting it’s impact on you. Forgetting that something terrible happened to you.

What if you’re watching a movie, and, as thrillers do, they draw a ‘murder’ out, painstakingly driving what happened back into your skull? You sit there, willing your face not to give you away. You don’t blink, you don’t move, you keep your eyes on the screen and you beg your actions not to reveal the anguish you’re feeling. You know eyes are on you, checking to see if it affects you. You will yourself to forget, just for that moment, so you don’t bring the terror back into the room with you.

What if you turn around afterwards, to find no one watching you, but sipping tea quietly, or joking about the football? What if no one was watching you, caring about its effect on you? What if they forgot?

Not being able to talk, or missing a few steps in the process, like acceptance and memory, means that it doesn’t go away. You can’t pick yourself up and move on, as much as you try. It sits there, like a festering wound in the back of your mind and heart, reopening itself when the ‘word’ is mentioned. You move forward, but not on. You do every day tasks, you laugh, you love, you live, but it’s there, like an anchor to the past. Never letting you forget.

So how can others?

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