My secrets are no longer just mine to hold

Have you ever held a secret about yourself? Never to tell anyone, so you thought. A secret that is so unimaginable to share. Until finally the energy to keep it inside boils it over and you tell your story. Holding on for dear life as you brace yourself for the listener’s response. Oh shit, how is my secret going to be received? Will I be judged? Will I still be liked or loved? I think I’m going to throw up.

Each day as I live with my PTSD my secrets boil over one by one scalding my emotional state, shaming myself. There is a force very busy at work unraveling my secrets causing them to be so big that if I don’t tell someone and let them out I surely will explode. This force is my undercover cop aka MUC, who works for my PTSD. Using its slick ways, it knows how to find just the right clues to pin me against the wall so I will surrender. My inner child ignites kicking and screaming as we move along the frightening and bumpy road ahead.

Here is my latest rap sheet of secrets:

              I was sexually assaulted in my early twenties

                 I have had an eating disorder for over twenty years


I recently confessed these secrets to MUC and am now working through my shame striving for self-forgiveness and acceptance.

Though MUC may seem to be working against me at times because its presence is unpredictable and scary, it is actually working for me too. See being in treatment for my PTSD uncovers the depths of my trauma – the people, the places, the actions and most importantly my emotions then and now. MUC got its job to support me so I bravely am able to ask for help. MUC is a good cop.

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