TW: Assault, PTSD, Trauma
My name is Kasey.
I am an assault survivor.
These pages are for me to write.
I've read plenty of motivational stories where the dragons that drained the heroine are ones of the past. But my dragons are here...they are now. We are in the dark part of the story; the part where the monsters are just too big. So I am going to do what I always did when I was young; create something beautiful to drown out the dark.
That is what these words, (whenever I become inspired to write), will be.
So here it goes:
"It is a sad song. It is an old song. And we're gonna sing it again and again."
My name is Kasey Eileen Manche. I was sexually assaulted when I was around 3 years old. I do not have memory beyond flashbacks of this assault. I was assaulted again when I was 18 years old. It took me nine years to realize it was an assault because of the cognitively stagnating teachings of the culture I grew up in.
I had a flashback on June 28, 2021. The bed changed colors and a face loomed above me and I knew I was in danger.
That week was the beginning of a journey of learning about trauma, being diagnosed with PTSD, accepting what has happened, and walking towards healing from these painful moments.
However, what I have learned is that these are not just moments.
They are held within our bodies.
Our bodies hold so tightly to that trauma and do everything they can to protect us from it. Assault lives in survivors for more than a moment.
It lives with them sometimes in every moment.
So listen up. Listen to survivors. Listen through their pain. Listen....it is the sound of thousands of cries. Please listen as we sing while we heal.
I sat down on my porch today and began to write out what I have learned about PTSD in this last month of darkness. For those of you still reading; please see below for my deep and personal thoughts on PTSD from a particularly hard month.
Sometimes staying numb is the only way my body and mind can survive this time in my story.
I have remarkably little grace for myself.
It is very hard to keep "healthy" habits when every moment is just about surviving to the next.
No matter how hard I try... I just can't keep up with society's pace. I'm behind on homework, giving only my bare minimum at work, struggling in all relationships....but I still feel like I'm giving life all I've got? I am doing my best and I am still behind.
Few people see mental disorders as something valid of the time, money, and energy it takes to heal through it.
Healing is a remarkably selfish time. I've spent a lifetime arranging my soul around others. Allowing that wounded soul to heal has required a version of self care, and self listening as I have not known before.
My body hurts. It hurts all of the time.
Body flashbacks are terrifying. My body enacted a full assault while I sat within my moving limbs with no control of my movements. I fought an invisible assailant; I watched as my body fought for its life that was clutched away from it those 24 years ago.
This is heavy.
It is hard to ask others to come alongside you in this. How do you invite people into a hell-scape you yourself are so desperately crawling out of?
Cannabis is good. It is healing. I have a medical card with MN for my PTSD. If this bothers you; go do some research.
I am tired. I am 24 years tired. My body is tired. My mind is tired. My soul is tired. Right now, I am hanging on day by day. But I also know this is not the end. I know the fire that rages within me. I will continue to become.
I'm here. I'm rearranging deck chairs. I'm walking through the Underworld. I'm in the Shadowlands. The past and the present are one and they scare me. But forward I walk. Step by step. Day by Day. Sing it again.