On Monsters Beneath the Bed

This morning I found the courage to reach beneath my bed

and pull out a question I’ve been hiding for a while now.

Mostly because I wasn’t sure I could handle the answer once I brought it into the light.

But the courage was impulsive and so were my actions.

I stuck my hand way back there and reached carefully around my sharp-edged doubts,

and behind all the small tarnished worries I can’t seem to get rid off.

And there it was, the gilded question, its value guessed at but still undetermined.

I grabbed hold of it and pulled it out before my courage betrayed me….




There it is.

Even now, my stomach quivers. My eyelids blink at increased speed. My tear ducts awaken alarmed.


Does. God. Break. Hearts?


I feel my ears filling with white noise; my own body shifting into survival mode.

I cannot bear the possibility of answers.


So I take the shiny question, my thumb and index finger pinching at its top corners, and I pin it up delicately in the middle of the room.

I circle around it slowly.


The white noise gets louder.


  • Amy

    Many years ago when the pain of sexual abuse was too great to bear my heart built a wall around itself that got thicker and thicker as the years went by. It got so thick I couldn’t feel the pain anymore, but I also couldn’t feel passion or excitement or love. All I felt was dead. Then one day a crack appeared in that wall which got longer and wider…and suddenly the wall came crashing down. There was numbness at first, disbelief, fear…I wanted to escape, to find my way back into my safe place. Then there was overwhelming pain…a physical pain, as if my heart were actually breaking in two. The pain went on and on for weeks and months. I tried to find some way to escape that pain…but the wall was gone…there was no escape. But as I lived with the pain and the memories of abuse, as I processed the feelings and learned to express what I was feeling….I discovered the pain and heartbreak was diminishing, slowly over time. I was able to feel not only the pain, but also passion, excitement and love. Looking back on that time I realize that what I felt wasn’t heartbreak. It was the breaking down of the wall I’d built around my heart. And it was my heart being free to feel all the feelings in ways I’d never before experienced. It’s like the pain you feel when you begin exercising muscles you’ve not used very much. But the more you use those muscles the stronger they become and more you’re able to do. Now my heart is able to feel more, to bear more, to embrace more of life, of passion, of love.