greencelticwitch

[greencelticwitch]

an essay by a survivor of sexual abuse

written by dennis bard kayatt

do you know what it is like to be sexually abused by someone without whom you would not exist? it resembles a paradox in Physics I read about once or twice regarding time travel. I can’t go back and fix anything without jeopardizing my own existence.

however, this is just the surface, the reflection of the stars in the night sky. The real problem lurks deeper below the surface; how to resolve that your abuser was someone who loved you and at least partly responsible for your continued survival. Combining such opposites like life and death can be difficult as an adult so imagine what happens when it occurs before you can even speak. I know, I can’t either and it happened to me.

second is pleasure. Do I need to explain the infinite complexity of pleasure? Early in life, it is simple: bad things are not pleasurable and good things are. Later they tell you it is the other way around, good things are not pleasurable for pleasure is temptation to evil. These are only a few examples, yet they matter not because pleasure is a minefield at best among adults so how does a pre-verbal infant navigate such choppy waters let alone survive. The resulting confusion muddies the waters, making them more difficult to see through, to place blame, to simply understand the circumstances of my early life.

now we are getting to the heart of it all, the depths so few ever survive long enough to reach and interestingly I have far less to say about it. How do I feel about myself knowing all of this and more? How much is what he wanted me to think, feel and how much is actually mine? When you are someone’s plaything for any length of time you lose sense of self. You do as you are told. It hurts less that way and as we all know; rewards are given to good little boys and girls, I was a good boy. Or was I?

[greencelticwitch]

what the hell is happening here?

written by dennis bard kayatt

today politicians decided to protect life from when it is conceived

yet nothing

after the shots rang out

again and again

not only the parents grieve

they are celebrating it as a “win for life”

armed with automatic rifles

who really cares who is holding the proverbial knife

when a woman loses the right to choose

it is the children

and the children alone

who ultimately lose

because despite what men might try and say

it is because of a woman that we breathe

and are able to debate this today

and if this “fact of life” is important or even remotely “key”

then a woman’s right to choose

is as inherent as

is her life-giving biology

on June 24th the Supreme Court took away abortion rights of women in the United States of America, land of the free. However gun rights were broadened

[greencelticwitch]

forgiveness

written by dennis bard kayatt

before my first birthday

I was unmade

leaving us

with this indelible scar

making us question

all too often

who the hell we are?

and knowing that

what was done

was done to him

and her

and him before

makes us question

ourselves even more

this litany of pain

that came long before

we were to be

overwhelmingly

makes us feel like

drowning in an infinite sea

yet with all this awareness

something alludes us still

the compassion we feel for others

is never our’s to feel

instead each day

we pay the price

and in this case in particular

we pay it twice

but price

makes it sound

like something

one can simply afford

while punishment

is just simply

the better word

finally, we arrive

at the unspoken word

you may have yet noticed

something we just can’t seem

to give ourselves

forgiveness

[greencelticwitch]

dreams

written by dennis bard kayatt

it is not my dream

to write any of this

if only I could write stories about

love, race, struggles and even utter bliss

and here is where ‘they’ would say,

“in life, this is not your lot”

and here is where I say,

“please, just make it stop”

my story does not just end

like a story on the news

I exist and therefore,

my story just continues

if I am to ever realize

my dream

to be genuinely myself

is far more difficult than it might seem

yet fight as I might

to not write this tale

it would be a greater tragedy

if I am to fail

so the words that flow from me

may seem, at first, a bit stark

but even the brightest morning

had to go through a night of pitch dark

[greencelticwitch]

small

written by dennis bard kayatt

and suddenly, I am as small

as when he took it all

from me

[greencelticwitch]

Happy New Year!

May we find whatever we may have lost in 2020.

May we right a wrong whether it be ours or someone else’s.

May we discover something new (to us) and share it with someone we love.

May we remember to invite peace into our lives, bodies and minds.

May we celebrate everyday those who love us as well as those whom we love.

And finally may all our dreams come true in 2021!

Peace

Dennis

[greencelticwitch]

a victim’s plea

written by dennis bard kayatt

what makes being a victim of childhood sexual abuse

even worse

is we watch the perpetrator pick up and move on

in a manner quite rehearsed

and thus the victim, just like the very event

that made him or her so

is alone

with our experience and our survival even though

is it really any surprise

that from this day

the victim attempts to take his or her life

in both grand and minuscule ways?

it is like having a secret

that no one else wants to hear

and then there is the sense

you must be responsible for any pleasure you feel

“it is complicated”, though accurate, is an extreme over simplification

and gives no one justice

so we hope you can hang in there

as we take our working explanation into practice

a victim by definition is someone

who another human being took advantage of

a victim is not broken or damaged goods,

he or she is like you and worthy to receive love

this is not to say that

you can “approach” such a victim without care

because from that day of a victim’s creation

of his or her surroundings a victim becomes acutely aware

a sort of “hyper-vigilance”

that keeps her or him in a state of constant fear

making many common settings

difficult to navigate let alone steer

while justice, for this victim

is to have his story heard

if only this could be accomplished

without me having to utter a word

for the weight of the crime has been left

on my shoulders alone to bear

and in our world of uncertainty, distrust, division and denial

I ask, do you even care?

[greencelticwitch]

hate me

written by dennis bard kayatt

before I knew anything;

anything at all

fear, was the earliest friend

who would come to call

I never asked

for any of this

it began long before

words passed my lips

yet somehow

this is exactly what you believe

being the center of my tiny universe

where sense of self is conceived

is it really

any surprise?

that all I’ve ever hoped for

was my own demise

because fear

is not a friend

it should not be your companion first

rather much closer to the end

this unfortunate beginning has left my life

a struggle to just be

and never, ever let on the truth

that none would care to see

what exactly did I do

to deserve such a fate?

unable to see myself

with eyes of love; only hate

[greencelticwitch]

interruptions

written by dennis bard kayatt

take two steps

in any direction

or maybe three

then stop

spin around

while keeping your thoughts on me

in this effort

to make you

see things my way

I was certain before

but now have

forgotten what to say

maybe if

we linger here

everything may come back

however

we must pay close attention

or we may lose track

of which side

is left

or right

but don’t worry

we could never be fooled

into thinking day was night

or could we

close our eyes

just a moment more

maybe we have done

all of this multiple times

before

this familiarity

makes everything fuzz

over and blur

now

that sense of repetition

begins to stir

so I find myself

exactly where

I started

and no great insight

or wisdom

have I imparted

except possibly

just maybe

my interruptions have done what I could not

remain constant

with one consistent

thought

[greencelticwitch]

I am so excited to share with you all my first drawing that came out exactly as I see in my mind’s eye! It is euphoric! So, this I entitled “Right underneath your...”

[greencelticwitch]

So true, yet so hard to feel.

[greencelticwitch]

I carry every moment and every memory with every step and every breath by @traumasakura

[greencelticwitch]

art

written by dennis bard kayatt

each word is chosen

with exceptional care

the meter is measured

with breaths of air

a muse whispers to you

through turmoil and pain

each of us “created”

in widely varied yet similar vein

every vantage, line, mark or stroke

expresses deliberate intentions

while the mind’s eye takes careful measurements

in all dimensions

inspiration can be found anywhere

even in the mundane

where creativity offered us solace

from a world most would’ve called insane

before individual notes are placed

melodically on the sheet

they are heard symphonically

louder than your own heart beat

again we see and hear

what speaks of the divine

within its warm cadence we all lose ourselves

if only for a moment in time

now the one thing that

I have always feared

that art and artists cannot exist

without conflict, suffering, sadness and tears

but then again isn’t this exactly

what makes art so appealing?

that in every concept, view, brush or tone

you are able to experience a feeling

[greencelticwitch]

imagine

written by dennis bard kayatt

imagine

to be groomed since birth

only

to satiate one’s despicable thirst

imagine

then everyone acts as if nothing happened here

except

my testimonial to a life lived in inexplicable fear

imagine

in the shower as the water strikes your face

suddenly

flight instinct takes aim: to get out of this place

imagine

what type of adjustments that needed to be made

sorry

this is where I typically begin to fade

yet imagine

the difficulty I am having with this very topic

and

my feelings of guilt for being so stupid and rather myopic

imagine

something good, anything other than this reality

try

to stop feeling how, they must of felt about me

dedicated to all survivors of sexual abuse

[greencelticwitch]

why can’t I sleep at night

written by dennis bard kayatt

with the world outside my windows

and the space between my ears

it is no wonder that most days

start and end in tears

each and every day

the numbers in the good ole US of A

seem to reach new heights

when the night falls

familiar and new “friends” come to call

mingling together old and new frights

hard to believe

that in the land of the free

this so called freedom is gauged by

the makeup of pigments in your skin

here sits a man

struggling to understand

the complexity of his relationship

with self, sex and sin

and then there is this “great divide”

where brother pushes mother pushes sister aside

all over

“a lunatic’s politics”

when things get to be too much (for me)

I crave neither a gentle nor loving touch (,you see)

all under

the guise of a “quick fix”

so much has changed and yet we have so much further to go

leaving a nation wondering if there really are leaders who know

how to set all of this right?

I think I am not alone

pacing back and forth across my home

questioning

why can’t I sleep at night?

[greencelticwitch]

in disgrace

written by dennis bard kayatt

this is not some fantasy that as a child,

one might dream

yet everything that occurred here

certainly was not what it seemed

I think I just bent my words

a bit too tight

I fear they will not come out of me

without a fight

damn it! I just went ahead

and said all of that anyway

one should not start off with a fantasy, fight

and words too bendy to say

this had been my dilemma

all along

I never even arrived at:

“what if the words come out wrong?”

though clearly I would have replied,

“I don’t see life as all sunny and no grey”

yet in reality, they took what was beautiful

and laced it with an ample dose of self-hate

transforming any moment of happiness

into one more chance to highlight my flaws

one doesn’t cut down trees armed with a pencil and paper

one uses a saw

thus inappropriately armed for many of life’s

trials

have I mentioned anything close to love in

a while?

you may find all these words a bit too harsh

for such a tight space

surely I would reply,

“yet, I have only given you

the smallest of tastes”

for each time I look up

I can just make out the shape of

my perpetrators’ faces

and in that moment in time,

I wish for nothing more than to vanish

in disgrace

[greencelticwitch]

ripples

written by dennis bard kayatt

a pebble strikes the surface

setting the water into motion

much as any one of my billion triggers can leave me adrift

drowning in an ocean

not of water and salt but rather feelings mixed with the sounds, smells and sensations

from long ago

making the here and now melt away and the despair of my childhood

becomes all that I know

here is where I am most days

and here is where you will definitely find me

just like a castaway

“lost at sea”

please pardon my need to borrow the words:

“add insult to injury”

my word choice holds more

than just colorful imagery

the fact I use water to describe my situation

is simply wrong

it is one of my “billion” and sure to leave me

reeling in panic for far too long

take a moment and think on

how it is to be me

water being the predominant element on earth, not even mentioning

it is a necessity

wet, moist or damp it matters not

which word you choose

water is swimming in primal fear that my hold on the moment

I am more than likely to lose

funny that Physics helps me most here with

its physical principles

because every thing that touches water

leaves ripples