Abject (adj.)

Donald Trump is president, and so I feel abject or like death or like a fly on the precipice of something that is both dangerous and too large to see. None of it breaks my heart. This is the way I feel.

 

I was molested twice in my life, once when I was 12 and again when I was 17. This, too, does not break my heart.

I remember very little from these experiences. This is what I know: I know the same person molested me both times and I know we were watching something on television both times, and still, I can’t remember the details. I ask myself sometimes, was it a movie? or a series? I can’t grasp at answers.

I also know that I wanted to scream both times, and I know that he touched my breasts and my pubic hair and I know I tried to forget; I know I did not scream either time.

Somebody told me that was what trauma was. An inability to place the pain; to disforget, not remember.

 

I am immature, though, so I try and make up different meanings for that word, trauma. I pretend. Trauma is Greek for girl who bashes her head in. Trauma is Latin for wrist. Trauma is French for you can’t pronounce the words, but believe me, it can still be said. Trauma gets to be noun, adjective, and verb. It’s a descriptor, thing that happened to you, girl.

I pretend.

But trauma is one thing, not the other. I leave the room, and Donald Trump is president. And Donald Trump is President, which makes me feel like killing myself more than less. Donald Trump is President, so I say again, girl who bashes head in: you can still forget. You can still go back, you can still leave the room in time, this time, you can still change the way it all worked out. I’ll pretend again. This, I can forget the way his hands felt in my underwear, I can forget it was my fault for not wearing a bra, I can forget that I am damaged. I can move from one room to the next, not acknowledging, like I was unacknowledged, always, wanting to hear, I know I did this to you.  But here’s the thing, nothing happened to me.

At least, that’s what the President said.

 

I know the details get all mangled when I tell it like this. I can’t get one thing straight from another. Everything bleeds together. I know, it was some other woman the President grabbed, not me. And it was some other man who grabbed me, not the President. But who could blame me for not quite remembering?


Anonymous is a reproductive justice activist in Tucson. She identifies as female and uses she/her pronouns. She attends university in Tucson and studies English. She is generally ok and enjoys drinking Flavored water with her best friend.

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