Traumatized

The images won't stop. Flashing in different colors. Different angles. Waves of nausea and panic flow but nobody can see them. For once, I just wish the media would let me be. Right now, it hurts to be me. I can't run. I can't walk. I can't ride. Shoulder to shoulder or even a few feet apart because wherever my feet tread there is a shadow. A shadow that looms darker and happens to be me.

What becomes of a shadow when its form can no longer be? An outlined silhouette with chalk that reflects the position of the body. The next caption reads in the media, "Here lies a shadow with blood as proof that certain lives don't really matter. "The stench of trauma is always around.

In trying to look on the bright side....maybe the rules don't apply now since you have education and experience. Yet, when you enter a room, your presence only gains attention as you begin to speak and suddenly the room goes quiet. Now that you have their attention with your eloquent speech, concerns and frowned brows silently warn you to be quiet but here is the chance to finally speak. Decisions. Decisions. Do I ruin my career or stand up for who I am? After all, you are representing every other person that looks like you. Here we are yet again, another trauma.

Let's not forget about the joy stealer comparison. Comparison is the thief that you cannot arrest. In the streets it causes genocide but in spiritual battles it exposes insecurities. If left undetected and untreated, the damage can be catastrophic.

Now there's you. Who did this to you? Who took your innocence? Was it your shade? Was it the coloring of your voice? There has to be another reason so that we can stop with all of the drama. Right? Or, could it be that the imagery just altered the facts? To decipher through all the hidden messages will cause self inflicted wounds that can never fully heal. One scab at a time, they continue to come off to catch air to breathe just to be traumatized yet again.

One thing that I have faith in is that God always leaves a remnant of people. Not all people see us as shadows. In fact, I applaud every person of different persuasion that has never seen the shadow but focused on the light; however, to be angry is not enough. To feel empathy is no longer enough. It is clear that we cannot do this alone. Please, the stress has been enough. The images are enough. The blood is enough. The grief is more than enough. We need you to speak against this with us.

Sometimes the loudest voice is the one that just shows up. Just show up. Now that you see how traumatized we are, perhaps we can come out from the shadows with our hands up and not become another chalked image, frozen in time.

We can't afford another traumatized generation. Please love your neighbor as yourself because you never know when your neighbor's life will depend on it.

This is an SOS. Someone help us because 911 is no longer an option.