INCEST: PART TWO

Criminal. Impossible. Insane.

There is a structuring and a scaffolding of secrets. There are large empty spaces where the truth should be. There are things so unsayable that they are never said, not for years and years and years. There are things so unthinkable that they can’t be thought. When the mind turns toward it there is nothing there except an ominous silence. The feeling of an unthinkable thought: present in absence.

Alcohol can be medicine for traumatized people. It’s why so many traumatized people drink so much of it. For me the medicine of alcohol was the way it melted the freeze with the fire of my repressed fight response, the way it made the unthinkable thoughts pour from my lips in a torrential flood.

It’s very strange to say the unthinkable thoughts out loud. It feels criminal. Impossible. Insane.