What’s left behind

I have said this before, our bodies remember traumas that may not be at the forefront of our minds.
The anniversary is creeping up of Bruce’s death, a time of horrific sadness and trauma for me. One I haven’t fully integrated or dealt with as of yet. My hand is almost completely back to normal, but my heart still breaks for everything he was to me and sadly the tragic way in which I lost him.
To love such a powerful creature who both saved and terrorized me has left me with a dichotomy that is hard to integrate.
But as the days grow closer to that awful anniversary, my hand twinges now and again, and tears come out of nowhere pretty easily. One thing I have learned these two years later is that it’s okay, I need to let my tears fall and let my heart break so it can heal.
I loved him so incredibly deeply and he forever changed my life, he taught me things and healed me in ways no human could have.
I still have things to learn about it all and how to heal the deep soul trauma..but I’ll get there. And of course, the blessing being again, that I AM here, to have the time to get there


Red Steed and Little Orchid was supposed to debut at the Indigenous Writer’s festival and be available for sale.  This, will not be happening, unfortunately.  I took out the manuscript to work on the edits and there is still too much pain and healing that needs to happen. There are things that need to be said in there that I cannot yet say.  So, since I cannot get it done in time, the book will not be available in June for sale. I’m very sorry, I know many people were looking forward to seeing it. However, I need to take it at my pace and I DO PROMISE you all, it WILL be finished. But I also need to take care of myself with this. I have come so far just in this last year.

While I was in my hidden paradise last summer I was faced with many of my fears and I dealt with them head on.  I am handling being in public places much better these days and my panic attacks are few and far between.  At the beginning of me trying to recover from the rape, no, it was me FORCING myself to BE recovered on a timeline, I lamented that I would never be ME again. I truly mourned the loss of the life and the person I knew pre-rape. A therapist, (a good one, not a shitty one) told me that I would never have her back again, but instead a new me, a different me. I couldn’t understand that, nor did I want this new person who was going to mysteriously show up one day, as I stood there, tapping my foot, looking at my watch waiting for her to show the hell up so I could get on with my life.  And instead what happened was, I couldn’t wait for her, so I took off without her. I feared I’d lose much more time and life if I stood around waiting, peeking out my curtains for her to pull into the metaphorical driveway. And in me taking baby steps and breathing through the terrifying parts, she and I meshed into one.  I will never be the ME I was, but I’m learning that it’s going to be okay because even though this ME is like a unripe/overripe mango (soft in some spots, hard in others) we do some pretty amazing things together. And to be honest, I don’t think I lost all of the old me..because I see her now and again, in moments, but she’s so much stronger and wiser and while she still doesn’t understand some things, she’s realizing that all the blood and horror and terror we’ve been through is ultimately what makes us, US.

My childhood/life forced me to split myself into parts. The ME before the adoption. The ME after the adoption. The ME before/after the monster. The ME after my move to SD (AWESOMEST PART OF LIFE). The ME before/after the rape then the ME before Bruce and the ME after Bruce died.(**I am NOT talking about Multiple personalities, so if you’re thinking that, just STOP)

What I’m learning now is, I can feel, and hurt, and be hurt by others and I won’t shrivel up and blow away.

People are going to hurt me. (not in the monstrous ways I had been, but even emotional wounds hurt like hell). People are going to leave me, physically and emotionally. But I will still be okay. I don’t have to shrivel up and hide or put the snapping turtle shell back on. I have to remember to take what’s mine and leave the rest.

And I won’t always feel so lonely. I will find new friends, new people who vibe on my level and I will gain a new tribe to surround myself with again. The faces will be different but I am capable of making and keeping friends.

I am not broken. I have been through hell, but I am not broken.

If I had never had the Mighty Red Steed (Bruce) in my life to cross that treacherous path from rape/post-rape life, I couldn’t have allowed myself to learn those lessons.

I will love him forever. But I’m okay and I’m sure he probably knows that.


Peace and Turtles,


Lakota Winyan.
Cunksi’s Ina.