What if one of the stories I share about my family is read by someone who would wish harm to my family? Or feels that my parenting style is inappropriate and reports me to children’s services? What if one of the human monsters from the past recognizes him or herself in one of my tales? What if they seek me out? Harm me or the kids? Try to discredit me? Call me a liar, cause me to doubt myself. I don’t know if I am strong enough to withstand such an attack.
At night while I lie in bed, supposedly sleeping, strings of words dance in my head. Stories, poems. Tragedies, triumphs. Comedies and dramas. So many worlds. So many words. Yet they are still not spoken, not shared, not told.
Maybe some day I will pluck up the courage and break the bondage of my silence. I hope it is someday soon for it is slowly destroying me.