Foreword

I’m not writing this book to gain sympathy from anyone. I am simply writing it to 1) tell my story to help other survivors of trauma feel less alone, 2) to make an impact on this world, and 3) because I don’t have a hand covering my mouth trying to silence me anymore… Because, yes, once I did have a hand trying to silence me. And the people who abused me told me to never tell. That’s why I’m now telling you!

 

I won’t write anyone’s real name in this book, any real city or location, or something else that can make the people I’m writing about to be found. I respect everyone's privacy, even my abusers.

 

This book is a collection of both poetry and memoirs, and that is because I use both memoir writing and poetry writing to tell my story. To give the full picture. Sometimes I give a clearer picture in a poem. Sometimes I prefer telling just what happened in a personal essay. It depends on what I need to tell, and also what topic I’m writing about. Some things can’t be said in a personal essay without giving me some bad thoughts about myself, and in these cases, I write a poem instead. And I can’t deny the fact that I’m a big fan of both poetry and memoirs, so why not combine them both?

 

This foreword won’t be long, probably it will be the shortest foreword you’ve ever read. Because I want you to start this book now, and read it without me talking in this foreword for centuries…

 

But I guess here is where I should put a disclaimer. Read this book with caution if topics such as abuse, sexual assault, gaslighting, and other dark topics like those are triggering to you.

 

I hope you find this book helpful, and interesting, or maybe give you some insight into the mind of an Autistic person.

Disclaimer

This book is not professionally written, and English is my second language. That means that there might be some grammatical errors between the lines. I don't have the budget in which I can hire a proofreader. Because of that, I have decided to make this work very affordable (in some cases entirely free!) for anyone to read and download.

 

And another thing: please don't use my poetry or writings for anything other than personal use, if it’s not - of course - a review of my work or anything else that falls under fair use.

 

Thank you for your understanding.

Part I: Memoirs

Part I: Memoirs

Abused

I felt so incredibly sad. I was thinking about old memories and old non-fiction tales that were floating in my mind. Not even tales, it was more like fragments of an ancient event, and it wasn’t even that long time ago. But it felt like it was coming from another period.

 

The grip around my neck was sudden, just like the punch in my face. He had convinced me to make love with him, and I agreed even though I felt a bit awkward. Maybe he noticed I felt uncomfortable, I don’t know, but the harsh grip and the sudden punch made my body completely freeze and I couldn’t even move any longer. I stopped to move out of fear.

 

When my body reacted in that way he seemed to be even madder. Several more punches in my face and when my tears started to flow, his moves just became more aggressive. I just tried to hold back my tears and was taking whatever he made me do.

 

A year later he tried to contact me again. I had been struggling to sleep at night, had terrible flashbacks, and was reacting like a wild animal on certain moves that were similar to the incident a year ago.

 

I pushed the “block user”-button and decided to move on. Although he did apologize, it would never cure my fears.

 

Tonight was one of those nights again, and I got up to tell one fragment of my story. And I hope I won’t regret it.

This was only one fragment of what kind of life I was living at the time.

An angry child

 

Sometimes I was the one I wanted to be, and that felt awesome. I was creative and smart, joyful, beautiful with dark brown hair and smiley eyes. Sometimes I had a big heart, wonderful self-esteem, and talents others dreamt about having. I was the little sunshine. Sometimes.

I was Trix, for short, the bright child who was polite and eager to do what was right. But I was also Trix, a child with a dark secret. An unnamed condition, a horrible mistake and she was not yet aware of her even darker future.

 

I was sitting alone a few steps from the playground. Watched the other children carefully. Took a handful of some dry leaves and threw them at the ground in an angry manner. I was angry. A girl looked at me from the playground and she was standing up on the swings right in front of me. She grinned, but not in a friendly way. I looked down at the ground and I heard the other children laughing about something. I wasn’t able to talk to them, even if I wanted to.

 

“Look, it’s that girl who can’t even speak”, I heard one of the boys saying and pointing his finger toward me. I threw some more leaves and rocks at the ground, sitting in my pants with braces to hold them up because they were too big. I was a short little thing. I reached out my tongue and moved my whole body in the opposite direction from them.

“What did you say, you little freak? Oh, did you say something?“, the awful boy yelled at me, loud enough for the teachers to notice, but they didn’t do a damn thing.

 

I, Trixibelle Moore, was able to speak physically. I just didn’t do it in any other place than in my own home. I refused to speak at school or in the schools arranged activities afterward, which I was forced to go to because my parents felt I had to “socialize” with other children. I just psychologically couldn’t. I wanted to, sometimes, but I just couldn’t. I was terrified every time my teachers were making attempts to get to me, to force me to speak in front of them or my classmates. Speaking was a terrible fear of mine.

 

But I was quite a good learner and I learned to write and read books. The writing was easier because then I could do it at my own pace. I could think for a long time before the message was read by anyone. Writing was my passion.

 

I lived in a small village in southern Sweden. Everyone talked about everyone and was gossiping about everything.

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: Trix Joyce
Bildmaterialien: Trix Joyce
Cover: Trix Joyce
Korrektorat: Trix Joyce
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 31.08.2023
ISBN: 978-3-7554-5159-4

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Widmung:
This book is dedicated to every person out there who has experienced some sort of trauma.