I hate these new age bitches who are like, "I was raped and I got over it." Like trauma rolled off their backs like water on a duck. Good for you. But most of us struggle with trauma. Most of us wake in the night with chest pain if we can sleep at all. Most of us struggle to not have a panic attack because a man is walking down the sidewalk in our direction, struggle to not cross the street because we don't want to jump to conclusions. Many of us struggle with suicidal thoughts, even attempt it.
I have been through that nightmare. I have been raging since second grade, drenched in the pain and losses of my bloodline. But I am still here. I have not crossed that line, even as the rage gets to be too much and suicidal self-hatred threatens to become second nature to me. The wave of heat flooding my body as I focus on one single thought and try to let it pass out and away from me.
I am made of iron, I was forged in fire, tempered by pain and betrayal. My mother had a backbone of steel and I learned how to stand straight from her. And even as that power wore away and rusted under the words of my father and the fists of my brother, until she became a shell and passed away from socially accepted methods of suicide, I am still here. I buried my father, my mother, and will one day see my brother buried. The world will be a better place without him and his abuses.
Do not fuck with women like me. We have seen things and survived things that entitled sheltered boys only dream up in their comic books. Danger from a safe distance, the daydream of a rough childhood and adult struggles. Then when they are rejected or simply don't get what they want they snap and shoot up a sorority house.
Cowards and weaklings, all of them.
They play at war and strength while I am Atlas in my corner of the world.
Show me someone who has suffered and I will show you an alchemist that can turn the world into gold.
