Let’s Talk About Monsters

And Why I Pick the Blue Door

So I wrote “You Can’t Trust Monsters” because I knew I had answered this before with my reasoning… and it harks also back to a long time ago when I was talking about this to a friend. I couldn’t find it anywhere so I wrote a poem based on something I had already written. I thought I lost it on one of my previous laptops, but then I remembered.

I sent it to my therapist over two years ago.

This is a memoir. The names have been changed to mostly protect the guilty and my own identity, and I have mostly been vague about locations because of the same reason.

Vicarious Identity: Why I Don’t Know Who I Am

If I had a time machine, I would go back in time and scare myself into doing my homework by saying, “Do I look like a well-adjusted individual to you?” The idea of escaping my abusive situation is an exercise of self-harm. Scaring myself into studying harder wouldn’t have been enough.

Here’s what time-machine me should say.

“Do your homework, so when your mom meets the military man, you fight. Fight him kicking and screaming, but also with your mind. He’ll hit you and intimidate you. Fight. Punch him. Slap him. If he hits, hit back as much and as hard as you can until he fucking stops. You’ll be scared, but he only stops if…