September 4, 2024

Published on 4 September 2024 at 02:39

Sometimes I forget that my daughter has suffered traumatic injury.

It is easy to forget her, and those like her, among the vast carnage of traumatic injuries. Before anything, that is now the shit show known as our life, happened she was so full of joy and happiness. She loved and she loved so hard and yet that love landed on you like a soft fluffy cuddle. She had a belly laugh that warmed you from the inside out. She had an intelligence of brilliance and she had dreams. Big dreams! She was excited for her future.

Today, this same glorious child is an adult. While she was meant to blossom into a butterfly, some sick perverted individual decided to target her, prey upon her, and that bastard made sure she could not fly.  At least for a very long time.......and that is traumatic.

I watched the joy and happiness slip away. I feared for her and her life for many months before I had a reason to. She was hardened, she was moody, she hated school more than normal and her grades started to slip. She cut off her hair and gave up the sport she loved most in this world. She no longer radiated love. My heart broke. I was hurting and my “spideymomma” senses knew something was wrong. She no longer belly laughed and all I could feel from her was cold. Ice Cold! I cried, a river it seemed, worrying and fearing for my daughter. I reached out for help where I could. The help I reached was USELESS. Lesson learned - do not trust in your schools guidance team.

Sidenote:

I can't help but wonder if that guidance team had even listened to me and took what I was saying seriously if things may have been at least a little different today. Maybe it could have stopped months of abuse. We will never know but what I do know is my daughter never had the chance to grow and develop and become what she was supposed to be. She never got to reach the full potential of a normal young adult of her age and intelligence. Let me tell you, that was a huge loss for this world Shhh before you come at me, let me finish. Her story isn't finished yet. Every survivor's story starts with a blank page and I wish her the most clear, bright fluffy white pages to write upon. Her story may not quite begin yet, but when it does look out world!

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