Monsters scare me. I’m on the wrong side of my 20s and they still do. All I have are nightmares (with the rare exception of that one time with Prince Harry…)
As an adult, monsters don’t present themselves like the gifs you see above. Instead, one monster is my rapist. One is my father who abused me for 15 years. The rest are Islamic terrorists (I’m a New Yorker- 9/11- don’t fuck with me). Also, the ocean. The ocean is one big monster. That came after Hurricane Sandy. And, oh, I must not forget my multiple sclerosis/scleroderma/other autoimmune diseases that will progress in time. Now that I’m thinking about it, time is a monster.
I’m a trauma poet. And the monsters I listed above traumatized me. They fucked me up… Pills, pills, pills. Tears, tears, tears. Blades, blades, blades. Hopeless. No light. With a self-hatred so strong it’s blinding to those around me. And the monsters also made me, of all things, a legit journalist (under my real name where I write formally and use spellcheck), a published poet (under different aliases) and an art curator (I’m a little creative…).
So all these bad things,
fed my creativity.
Or, perhaps, even
created my creativity.
Without them, I wouldn’t be fucked up me- the same fucked up me whose handmade dolls have been on just about every continent (never mentioned that. I used to make dolls when I was in University), whose face is Google-ble under her real name along with pages and pages of articles, and yeah. Just all that. I wouldn’t be that. Whatever that is that makes my mom feel happy she had me.
Maybe a non-fucked up me would be better. I wouldn’t be physically ill in and out of hospital. I wouldn’t have PTSD. I wouldn’t be dealing with the burdens of such heavy depression and crippling anxiety whose now lost the ability to love and barely functions when compared to the rest of the world. I don’t know. Non-fucked up sounds better. But this is what I am. This is what my past made me. And, at least it’s helping others sometimes…
And at least I have a voice.
A lot of people don’t.