when magic happens…

“you’ve turned my world purple,” i say to her. “delhi’s grey skies now appear purple to me.”

“you’ve become the moon in my sky,” she says. “you brighten my life and it doesn’t hurt to interact with you.”

“you’re magic,” i reply.

we say nothing more.

a conversation with the moon (i)

“am i androgynous or am i feminine?”

“do assholes fear me or do i fear them?”

“is my energy to deep or is it too shallow?”

“are they all still missing me or is it just me?”

“can i still change everything or is it far too late?

“did i imagine the past few months or is all this real?”

“will i find love ever again or is she the love of my life?”

all that triggers me

TW: mentions of ptsd and assault

my triggers aren’t the same as everyone else’s (i guess)…or maybe, they’re the exact same as everyone else’s (especially those with ptsd). 

today, while reading a poem, i came across the word “territory” and said it out loud. the sound of that word triggered me. i couldn’t read after that. perhaps, i had spoken this word in front of an abuser of mine or perhaps he had done it.

last month, someone mentioned the word “pitch” in a class and it brought back all the memories of an assault. well, technically, the term spoken in that particular assault was “switch”. but, then, “pitch” does sound like “switch”, doesn’t it?

about two months back, someone spoke about some “verdict”…and all i could do was text a friend saying, “verdicts trigger me.” (do they?) 

months before that, the scent of a raspberry-scented candle reminded me of summer’20. certainly, i had to keep the candle far away. 

about a year back, the taste of hot chocolate (which i usually like) made me throw up. 

not to forget…

dates (days) can trigger the crap out of me.

jan 31, 2020 (a day after my abuser tried to abuse me, again): i lost my balance on the road and permanently scarred my right knee. 

november 14, 2020 (almost a year after the assault which took place on november 18, 2019): i lost my balance on the road and permanently scarred my right knee even more.

february 14, 2021 (exactly a year after i had seen my abuser for the last time): i lost my balance on the road and permanently scarred my left knee. this time, i couldn’t walk for a week, couldn’t dance for a month, and had to take antibiotics and painkillers. 

november 6, 2021 (almost two years after the assault): i lost my balance on the road and scarred my left knee. this one hasn’t healed yet, so i guess only time will tell whether the scar will heal or not.

blanked

tw: mentions of abuse

i sometimes wonder how the other victims i know might be feeling.

do their mothers cry the way mine does every time she realises that she can never fix me?

do they look for excuses to avoid working with cis men?

do they get breathless whenever they have to talk about how upset they (still) are?

do they silently sympathise with their abusers despite being denied justice?

do they find it tough to remain optimistic?

do they get asked “did you actually say ‘no’?” and “did you try to resist?”

do they get victim-shamed on whatsapp groups for their breakdowns and reactions?

do they hate their friends who sided with their abusers?

do they struggle to understand whether or not their friends who sided with their abusers enabled their abuse?

do they apologise to their ex-friends after referring to them as enablers?

do they feel alone all the time?

do they fear not finding a significant other because no one would want a third person (their past) in a monogamous relationship?

do they feel too ashamed, too embarrassed, and too scared to step out of their houses?

do they feel how i feel?