bags under my eyes

credit


trau·ma

  [trou-muhtraw-] 
noun
          a wound or shock produced by sudden injury, as from violence or accident.

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Do you have bags under you eyes?  Cause I did.  

By the time the sun set on a cool day in November 2010 my world had erupted and was shocked by violence.  At the same time my eyes seemed to sink deeper into my skull and puffy tear-induced bags made permanent residence under my eyes.  This was a clear sign of trauma in my life.

Often, I hear women downplay their pain, confiding that "it's just porn."  But, I don't believe it. Pain is pain.  It doesn't land somewhere on a sliding scale showing that one betrayal or abuse is worse than another.  It just is.  

Haven't we all spent infuriatingly sleepless hours wrestling in our beds replaying snippets of our lives only to still be agitated and awake at 4:37 am and ready to tear our hair out?  Haven't we all spent days where we ate too much and the other days where we forgot to eat at all?  And what about the insanity of checking internet histories and phone records and maybe even GPS coordinates (ummm, no, i did not do that)?  Or haven't we all glared and shot daggers and felt utterly inferior to the woman with overwhelmingly sexualized jugs spilling out of her tank.  And maybe for you, women haven't been the object of lust, maybe it's men or even the most unthinkable of all, children.  

Do you feel the loss of breath every time you drive past a massage parlor?  And honestly, for me, the sight of any Asian: man, woman, child or even the mention of Kung Pow Chicken made my blood run cold.  Haven't we all panicked at the mesmerizing glow of a computer screen?  Or even felt prickly anxiety as our spouses tried to hold our hands?  Haven't we all felt hopelessly broken, used, discarded and lost? 


It's not our fault and our feelings are completely natural.  This is Betrayal Trauma. 

It's time to take care of ourselves.