Passage of Time

Please forgive my indulgence in sharing this poem with you. I thought long and hard about publishing it, even writing it initially. This post follows my two previous ones, Dissociative Healing and Brave. They are all a part of the process.

I’m aware that my posts, mainly poems, of late, have been dark. I’m currently working through my thoughts and feelings about this with my counsellor. She is helping a lot, and I know I will get through this before too long. However, today, I needed to write this straight out of my heart, which is where all my writing comes from. It’s the only way I know how to write.

My intention is not to cause distress to any of my readers, although I’m aware that others may possibly have been through such traumatic experiences.


Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick
The metronome ticks the minutes away
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick
It regularly beats without a delay

She hears it, hears it, hears it now
All the way from childhood days
No choice for her but fear and pain
To come and go from this toxic place

Come day, come week, come every month
Nothing ever changed
Come birthdays, Christmas, year on year
Becoming more deranged

She trod on the cracks along the road
She’ll be punished for that, to be sure
Nearer and nearer she’d get
Ringing the bell on the the door

Waiting, waiting, waiting for time
Knowing she’s headed downstairs
Panic, fear and desperation
He’ll be seated on one of the chairs

She’s greeted by the metronome
Knowing what’s in store
She’s swallowing down the terror
And tightly clenching her jaw

She’s beckoned within, the time has come
The door bangs behind her – it’s shut
The bolt is shot, and she’s trapped inside
As she’s made to be the slut

Come, come, come sit on my knee
Just you do as you’re told
Her heartbeat faster and faster
She’s only eight years old

Don’t tell, don’t tell, don’t tell a soul
They’ll be trouble if you do
So she silenced herself right there and then
Not knowing this was taboo

After years passed, the news got out
Not from her but another source
Someone else told their story
He denied it all, of course

The police were called immediately
Spoke to her Mum and her Dad
She was frozen solid to the core
Because she’d been told she was bad

She didn’t want to cause any trouble
She silently tucked it inside
The grown-ups shrugged their shoulders
While she crept up to her room and died.




 












38 thoughts on “Passage of Time

  1. Ellie,
    Thank you for sharing a piece of your life. It is very sad to hear about what you went thru, alone. Being abused at such an young age can definitely leave a big scar but the good news is that it does not define who you are, who you become. You are an amazing and strong person who had some bad experiences, something that should have never happen. The past does not define us but I know sometimes the past likes to visit the present. It’s almost like you have to be stubborn about it and say” the past is GONE!” A lot of us have some deep scars, I’ll share some with you privately but for now I want you to know that we are strong, you are strong and by showing our scars we only make ourselves stronger…like Wow..look at this warrior! so many scars and still standing! That is strength! That is courage and I admire you for it and am inspired! Smile Ellie, you are amazing.

    1. J, I feel the genuine warmth in your words, and that means a lot to me. As you know, I was in two minds about whether I dared to share this poem and my story. Thank you so much for your kindness and deep understanding and for showing me that my light is still shining. You are right about the past visiting the present sometimes. All this came from a conversation with my counsellor about time and how difficult I find it to be late for anything. I’d rather be 45 minutes early for an appointment (and I frequently am) than three minutes late. You probably know how often I apologise to my blogging friends for being late in reading or commenting on their posts. Time is a big issue for me; it was only yesterday that I pieced together where this fear and obsession came from. Now that I’ve realised where that started, perhaps, I can come to terms with it and make peace with my experiences as a child. It was a terrifying part of my life as it would be for any child going through similar experiences. Scars never go away but they do fade in time and I guess we just have to accept that and with the right help, move on with our lives looking to the future. I hope this poem and my story didn’t touch on too many raw nerves of your own. You are so welcome to get in touch with me anytime. I will share my email address here as it will only be seen by my readers. You can reach me at ellie.thompsonwp@yahoo.com. I will welcome you and your story with open arms. Take good care of you, J. Love Ellie xx 🦢💝🤍

  2. I’ve heard you and I understand. My heart goes out to you. You’re extremely brave and strong. You are in my thoughts. …Cailín

  3. Not like you, yet like you. Every day I had to come home from school, knowing I would be smacked around for something, not necessarily something I did or forgot to do. Somedays I would linger, but that just made the beatings worse. At first I cried, but as days turned into years I developed a stoicism: Someday I will be bigger than him! I dtopped crying, and started anticipating. One day I would be bigger.
    I never did retaliate with violence. Instead, once I was the only one left, I left too. I left him to fend for himself. I thought that would be punishment enough.

    1. I’m so sorry you went through those beatings and experiences, rawgod. It must have been horrific for you as a child. I never cried or got angry with my abuser, either. I just used to take it out on myself, not understanding that I didn’t deserve the punishment that he should have gotten. As it was, he left the country and returned to his family in Jamaica before his court date came up. Even though the case was in the local paper, it wasn’t pursued. I kept so much to myself those days, and being such a young child, I didn’t know how else to process my feelings. I can understand you leaving your father – did you finally get to the point where you did feel bigger than him? I realise that, like me, your father won’t be on this planet now – when he died, did that help you to resolve any of your feelings? I’m interested to know why you commented, ‘Not like you, yet like you.’ Take good care of yourself, rawgod. You deserve to heal, too … Ellie

      1. Healing is not a real word to me. I came to terms with what happened, because my sperm donor inadvertently taught me a lot of things about life I may not have ever learned. His violence turned me into a pacifist. And I learned how to control my anger so that I would never be like him.
        “Not like you” in that to the best of my memory I was never sexually abused (though all 3 of my sisters were), and also your abuser was not part of your family, and I cannot imagine what it would have to be like to go “somewhere else” knowing what was going to happen to you there.
        “Like you” in that knowing what was going to happen and still going anyway. Walking into a known torture chamber is spirit-destroying. I cannot even describe how I feel about the fears you must have felt. Much much worse than mine.
        Did I ever grow bigger than my father? I did, but just as he got sick and shrunk. His body wasted away just before he died. I doubt he ever saw the irony in that.
        Healing? When I discovered my true spirituality, and fought to understand it (stories told on my rawgodsspiritualatheism blog) I healed in a completely different way. The different parts of me were all healed at the same time. The “holes” I told you about were all filled by the discovery of something I could truly believe.
        This is going to have to become a post there, but what I went through was probably akin to a “religious revelation,” only my revelation took over 50 years to complete, not just one instant.
        I will “try” to explain it in better terms when I write the post, but unfortunately it is not something I can give to others, I don’t think, though I wish I could, and I hope I can somehow.

    1. Dear Granny, I’m so sorry if this was a shock. I didn’t know how best to tell you that my writing yesterday would be grim and, perhaps, a shock. Thank you for saying that I’m brave, although I don’t feel it at the moment. I find writing to be very cathartic – Having written this piece and account of what I went through, at least I don’t have to keep the secret anymore. My blog is the only place I feel I can share my deepest and innermost thoughts and feelings. I also share them with my counsellor, but I think it’s partly knowing she won’t be there next week that has brought all this to the surface. Today, I will try and rest so that I can try to process my feelings. I will be fine, try not to worry. It’ll all pass, and hopefully, I’ll be able to leave it behind in the past eventually, where it truly belongs. Sending so much love to you, Granny … Ellie xxx 💜🌷💙

  4. This is such a powerful piece of writing Ellie. It’s like you have torn off a diseased part of your past and thrown it into the trash. I hope that is how it feels. I find poetry terribly healing and freeing. Write as much as you can, it helps. But aside from the fact this is a personal account, it’s also a poignant and descriptive poem that draws us, the reader, into your soul. Thankyou for that, Thankyou for sharing fiercely and bravely. Keep sharing. Keep healing. Sending you love.

    1. Thank you so much, Kate, for your kind words and especially for your understanding. I do find writing to be very cathartic. I’m not sure if I’ve been brave enough to throw it into the trash yet, but I will do, I hope, in the not-too-distant future. Today, I am still hurting and feel somewhat ‘hungover’ from the deep emotion of it all. I will try and rest today and hope that the pain gradually eases. I will heal from this in time. My counsellor is away next week and perhaps, that’s contributing to my deepest feelings being exposed and shared like this. It wasn’t easy to write this even though the words flowed directly from my heart and soul. Thank you for sending love – that’s appreciated so much right now. Love to you, too, my friend … Ellie xx

  5. Don’t apologize for your content. I feel like your blog is the one place where you can do anything you want. What a horrible thing to go through and then have to live with, and then relive it as it comes into the open. I feel like writing it out into the world can be helpful. It gives you the control and the power in the situation. Poetry is a tricky medium for me. Sometimes the inherent vagueness loses me. I probably don’t fully understand your poem, but I think I get enough.

    1. Thanks, Jeff, for reading my poem and leaving a kind comment. You are right – my blog is where I can share my deepest thoughts and feelings. I don’t even share these things with my family or closest friends for fear of upsetting and disturbing them too much. My blog is where I can be free and try to process these experiences. Just lately, I’m finding it easier to express myself in poetry rather than just a piece of writing. Although it’s all feeling a bit horrific at the moment, and I feel exhausted from the pain of yesterday, I know I will heal in time. In the meantime, I know I can share my feelings here without distressing, especially my family and friends in my non-virtual world. I don’t tell them about my blog. It’s my space to be me, Ellie. I’m able to write my heart and soul out here. I will heal in time – sharing helps relieve some of the internal burdens of my experiences. Thanks again, Jeff … Ellie.

  6. You’re very brave to post this, Ellie. I hope doing so has been cathartic. Such an awful thing to happen. Perhaps this is a sign that your new counsellor has really helped you work these things through.

    1. Thank you, Mick. Yes, it has been cathartic – writing always is for me. I can only write from my heart and my soul – it’s the only way I know how. I do believe that my new counsellor will help me to process and heal from these experiences. She is away next week, which is probably why it’s all come to the surface so deeply. I will take my poem with me when I see her next and work on my feelings and emotions in that and ongoing sessions. She’s very unlike the previous and damaging counsellor I had all those years ago (thank goodness). I am very grateful for that. This has been sitting there festering for a long time, and now that I’ve written about it, I’m hoping I can start to heal fully. Thanks again, Mick … Ellie

      1. I’m sure that bringing all those thoughts to the surface and setting them out must be cathartic. Here’s to your feeling the benefit of it.

  7. This was heart wrenching.
    But Ellie, I know how strong you are.
    You are an angel, and I want you to fly high. Please take care of your mental health. You are taking a lot of stress these days. I know it’s easy to say for me. But, I really want you to feel better soon my lovely friend. Please please take care. If you want to share anything, please feel free to reach out to any of your blogger friend. Take care Angel 🌟
    Sending you some positive vibes.

    1. Thank you so much for your beautiful words, Devang and for the positive vibes. Both are much appreciated. Things with me are difficult at the moment, but I know that they will get better again in time, hopefully soon. Writing helps me cope with my feelings and my blogging friends, including you, have been wonderful, supportive, and very understanding. Thank you for thinking me strong. Although I don’t feel this at the moment, I have dealt with a lot of heartache and trauma in my life, and I always come back from that stronger. I will take care of myself as best I can. I have been feeling exhausted and have been taking a rest during the day to help me cope with this. They say that sleep is healing for the body but also for the heart. Thanks again for your kind words, my friend … Ellie

  8. The last line especially was heartbreaking. The rhythm of the metronome gave this poem urgency and an air of ‘this is not good.’ Beautiful things come from the heart. While this is a dark peace, there is beauty and light in it as you work through things. Stay golden!

    1. Thank you, Sam. I didn’t realise until after I’d written it that the words sort of had the beat of the metronome I remember so fearfully – always there – always ticking away the time – always ticking away my life. I always write from my heart and my soul. It’s the only way I know how to express myself fully. My counsellor is away next week, but I know we will continue to work on my issues about this when she returns. I just feel a bit vulnerable at the moment, especially with her being away for the extra time. Counselling is tough at the moment, but I know it’s the route to healing and recovery. Thanks for your kind words, Sam … Ellie xx

  9. I wish this was made up even when I know (because I know you) it is all true.
    Heartbroken. Tick-tock.
    This is just the bottom of indecency. Any thing done to a child is irreversible. Pathetic!
    What a horrifying occurrence. I’m so sad it happened to you.
    But you are NOT what happened to you !!!! !!!!
    You’re strong — strong for too long.

    And you’re loved. Bless you.

    1. Thank you for such a kind, heartfelt and understanding comment, Selma. Yes, sadly, this is all 100% accurate and true. I agree; these types of crimes (as that’s what it is) should never happen to anyone, least of all innocent children. This took place over a period of four years, twice a week. It has left mental, emotional and physical scars, some of which I can never escape from. I am, however, gradually learning to be strong again. It’s taking a lifetime, but I will get there – some days are better than others.

      On a lighter note, I had a wonderful day out with my family yesterday (a rare occurrence). It was to celebrate my birthday tomorrow. I will write a post about it (a cheerful one for a change) later today or tomorrow. Thank you again for caring so much, my friend. Xxx 🦢💝

  10. Ellie,

    Bravo. Simply BRAVO Lady! I applaud all your courage! ❣️

    Part of my work background is/was in mental-health. While working on my Masters degree in Marriage & Family Therapy, I worked full-time at a private Psych/A&D inpatient hospital—I was basically a clinical (and 2nd financial) ER or Admissions Coordinator/Assessor for our on-staff psychiatrists. Then two major life-events happened in my own personal life in 1990-91: A) increasingly unethical admissions criteria forced me (and my conscience & principles) to walk-out on my job, and B) my father committed suicide.

    Not to diminish your personal, noble courageous journey here Ellie, but only to say that much of your story I am quite familiar with… from a clinical professional viewpoint AND a personal one regarding trauma. We are not alone in our struggles, are we? 🥰🤗

    Continuing my perusal…

    1. Thank you so much for reading my poem and for your very understanding attitude, Dwain. Thank you even more so for thinking me brave and courageous, although I don’t see this in myself.

      I admire that you had such a responsible and caring position in medicine, even if you’re not in that world anymore. It must have taken quite something (courage, dedication and, naturally, qualifications) to have been able to survive the stresses and strains of a job like that. Being responsible for other people’s lives is no mean feat. I feel you have such a level of deep understanding, possibly because of your career, but I feel you also have a naturally caring nature and are, perhaps, a sensitive person at heart.

      I’m so sorry to learn you have experienced two life-changing events. How tragic for you to have lost your father to suicide. I don’t know whether you ever recover from something like that happening to a loved one. I can’t imagine how you must have felt at that time. Does time ever heal? They say it does; perhaps, the pain diminishes over time, but there are always instances when memories are jogged, and right then, you are back in that place again. This is so for me, especially lately.

      Everybody is different in the way that they cope with trauma. I feel that had I had the proper support and help at the time of my above experiences, I may have dealt with it better or, at least, come to terms with it earlier in my life. It wasn’t for the lack of trying to deal with it. I did see a therapist for eight years altogether. Unfortunately, she turned out to be abusive, and I suffered an equal amount of harm at her hands as I did from my abuser. I have written about this in the past but won’t go over it again as it serves me no purpose to rake it all up again. Thankfully, I am now seeing a good counsellor, and although it’s meant looking at those tough years as a child, I know I am beginning to heal. I realise I have a long way to go, but I will get there eventually, hopefully, sooner rather than later. Thanks again, Dwain, for reading my comment and for hearing my story … Ellie 🦢💖

      1. Allow me please to address each one of your paragraphs Ellie. By the way, you may soon learn that I enjoy being very detailed, observant, and using all of my critical-thinking skills: inference, or what’s explicit and implicit as well as inquisitive or probing. The latter is part of my “Explorer-Adventurer side.” 🙂 Now, some of my good friends find this trait a bit pedantic online or on WordPress. These opinions I can neither deny nor entirely embrace. HAH!

        I guess we all navigate in our unique ways, huh Ellie? 😉 Here we are!

        Your first paragraph — We are often our own worst critics, aren’t we? I too push high-standards and sometimes brutal critiques upon myself. I think we all slip into that desire for (too much?) perfection. Yes?

        2nd paragraph — That job was my favorite. I was a natural at it and LOVED it. Unfortunately, profits, revenues, money, everything humanity has learned about the corruptive powers wealth accumulation are quite true and alive and well even today. 😦 Yes, I’d definitely confess that I happily worked hard, and played (for relief/rest) as hard if not harder. In that field one MUST monitor closely for burnout. I came close a few times. We all have our healthy limits.

        Does time ever heal?

        YES! I speak from multiple experiences. It does indeed. And yes Ellie, you WILL arrive there and then be ready for the next set of challenges and rewards Ma’am! 👍🏻 There will be triggers, no doubt about it. Personally, I just let them flow, let it happen because it reminds me that I CARED, I LOVED HIM… or whatever whomever the past trauma concerns… it shows me that I have intense emotions simply because I care. Not rocket science nor is it weird or malfunctioning. I’m human. Period. 😄😁 For your triggers Ellie, I recommend you allow them to continue to teach you. And what I have found during and after the process is that then I have MUCH to offer others who go thru the same difficulties. Our chance to give back from a position of command-n-control. 😉

        4th paragraph — There’s a risk of us going back over all the what ifs and I should have done that, etc. But we must be sure to also live more in the present and immediate future based upon what we’ve learned in the past. Does that make sense? We are human BEINGS. We’re not humans-past or human-was-ers when we still have a heartbeat! 😉

        Sidenote — I like to makeup my own words sometimes. Fellow Scrabble players HATE playing with me! 😄 (another maniacal laugh)

        You’ve given me another fresh reminder that we CAN adapt, overcome, and come out much wiser, much more balanced, and capable of embracing the next intense events & emotions. You ARE on the right track Ellie! Just remember this tid-bit of quirky wisdom I have learned and share now with you…

        “Hey, I’m here to fail better each time! We have much to look forward to with grace and clumsiness!” 😉 🤭

  11. Dear Ellie, first this is blog to express whatever your heart desires; never apologize for it.

    You are a warrior in the face of life’s challenges. I think about your strength and I do keep you in prayers. Be safe.

    1. Thank you so much for your kind reassurance, Tangie. I never think of myself as a warrior, but appreciate you telling me that. It means a lot. Thank you very much for keeping me in your prayers. I hope you are as well as you can be and, although you bear a lot of pain, I hope that today is one of your better days. If it’s not, I send you healing and comforting hugs with my love … Ellie xx 🦢💖😘

  12. Oh, Ellie. What a vulnerable and beautiful poem dealing with heavy and heartbreaking things. I wish I could hug you right now and tell you it gets better. You are doing the hard work right now—turning and facing the ugly, dark things and it will help you to heal. You will come through on the other side stronger and more understanding of yourself. Keep going beautiful soul. Keep writing. Your voice is needed in this world.

    1. Dear Bridgette, I can’t tell you how much your words mean to me right now and how much I appreciate and need those hugs and encouragement. Thank you for your comforting reassurance that things will get better. It’s tough here right now, but I know I need to work through the pain and trauma to become a whole and stronger person. I have to keep reminding myself of that. I find writing to be very cathartic, although I do wonder whether anyone really wants to hear my voice; perhaps, that’s my insecurity speaking to me. Love to you, Bridgette xx 🦢🌷🕊

      1. Insecurity speaks to us all and its a liar. You don’t know who will need to hear your words. Keep writing, sharing and moving through all the stages of healing. I know you will emerge on the other side stronger and filled with renewed purpose (I have to tell myself the same thing all the time). Sending you another great big hug.

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