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Of course it's always something
In pain and nauseous. I tried to be intimate with my husband, but the pain was immediately unbearable. He's so sweet, he was immediately only concerned with me. I want to cry. We've never had a great sex life, cause of me. But we can't even try at all now. I worked so hard to be okay and be able to feel safe with sex again but this physical pain is not only bad but re-traumatizes me all over. I hate it.
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saw you
well i had a mother i guess. i saw you walking today, little carmenita. you are somewhat tall and thin, unlike your big boned daughter. im just tall. i could clean your clock. do i want to? yes, some days. i had to run into you today. i saw M too, why do i always see her, walking along, much like you. you both trigger the fuck out of me. why is it on a bad day i have to run into ppl? thank god i just saw you both from the bus. i got my fish the help it needs, remember when you and your husband said that to me? we'll get you the help you need, you said. why are you so fucking evil, carmenita? tell me why. you fool so many with your disguise. my fish is happy, the puppy was so cute, i felt so alone and broken. why is everyone blessed but me? thats how i feel this night. i am alone and depressed and triggered and tired of it all. how long before we both retire, little carmenita?
i am fucking tired, and alone. i am tired of everything.
why was i born to fail b.c. your husband raped me, the ;dream of penetration was awful, why am i here, anymore, why
to my boys on the warmline, my beautiful ones, to my brother, to my friends on here, my baeutiful ones
thank you
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I've been unfaithful!
...not to my fiancee, of course!!!
Guys, I'm not that kind of girl. Never have been and never will be. I've been cheated on (likely by the wasband, and likely by other guys that I dated before I married him. One girl I dated briefly (for a few weeks) cheated on me...with a man, no less. Imagine that?!
Either way, unfaithfulness and I do not get along. I've no respect for unfaithful partners, the heartbreak they cause and the re-building of trust that is required afterwards - nope, it's not a road I ever want to go down, nor would I want to go down with anyone who was unfaithful to me. Because really, that's a deal-breaker. My lovely wifey and I strongly agree on this, it's a hundred percent over if either one of us were to stray. I'm sure that a lot of why we both feel this way has to do with both of us having endured abusive relationships in the past.
So why the (clickbait) title?
Well...
Last week, I was unfaithful to my diet. I admit it. I'm holding myself accountable to you all. I'm writing this for a couple of reasons. First off, I want to be able to come back to this whenever I feel the 'ah, screw its,' because a (small) setback like this one is likely to make anyone think that. I'm still over the 20-pound mark, but now it's going to be a little bit longer to get to the 25-pound mark, which I'd been hoping for.
I got on the scale on Monday, my usual weigh-in day. And yes, this is a big part of the reason I didn't update right away.
I gained one stinking pound. 1.1 to be exact.
After I kicked and screamed at the scale (half expecting it to scream back at me, "What the hell do you expect??? Do you know what the hell you ate this week?!") I rang Oompa to share the verdict.
"Do you know why?" Was all she said. My mother's had her own ups and downs, if anyone were to understand the frustrations of dieting, it's my mother. She's been on a diet for as long as I've known her.
Let's see. Monday, I want to say I ate normally, eggs for breakfast, chicken for supper. Tuesday, we had pasta with homemade alfredo sauce (I was sure to use the cream of mushroom in a can rather than buy the store brand jarred alfredo sauce). Wednesday, I made a pulled pork in the crock-pot and served them on rolls that weren't necessarily the healthy type. Thursday, we had chinese take-out because the kids begged me not to make anything to do with chicken. I guess I can't blame them - they've had enough at this point. And so, the Son requested I make different things this past week, and I obliged. And I also indulged. My portion sizes weren't enormous; I can't eat as much as I used to. However, I still ate mindlessly, without measuring, without being strict with myself, without cutting myself off when I'd eaten enough, regardless of whether I was still hungry. On Friday, the wifey had a medical procedure done (more on that another time) and wanted a cheesesteak with fries afterwards. I didn't eat the cheesesteak, but I ordered a chicken parm hero - when they handed me my plate, I think I might have said 'sweet Jesus' a little too loudly. Suffice to say, I ate about 1/4 of that hero - brought the rest home where the kids devoured my leftovers. Then on Saturday, we went to my nephew's birthday party and I ate two slices of buffalo chicken pizza. Then I've got to consider the nights I had (fat-free but not point-free) popcorn for a snack. I didn't track ANY of these foods - but I don't blame my weight gain on that. I haven't been tracking via electronic app for weeks, because I was eating all of the same things and it got too easy not to write it all down.
Here's what happened. Like the kids, I got bored with the same ol' and I gave myself a little too much slack last week. Lesson learned!
And yes, guys, I know - it's only one pound. I do know I could have done a lot worse than that. This brings me to the second reason I'm writing this and sharing here. I need to convince myself, too, that it's not the end of the world. Maybe I just didn't drink enough water and maybe retention is part of the problem. And I know I COULD HAVE done a whole lot worse. I was not strict with myself, but a part of me WAS careful and a part of me was doing some damage control - I think the numbers on the scale could have been a lot more grave. So, while I'm annoyed with myself for not taking care and losing that pound rather than gaining it, I have to remember to also commend myself for having a degree of self-control and minimizing the damage.
And now, I must go on.
I told Oompa I certainly did know what I did wrong. There was just too much, so I didn't give her any details. Not only did I go over my allotted points for each day, I was sure I surpassed my weeklies, too.
Interestingly enough, I won't admit these little menu details to Oompa. I don't know why - like I said, my mother likely would understand anything I had to say about diets. Maybe it's because for years and years, I rolled my eyes at her and made fun of her measuring cups and spoons and recipes...I can't tell you how many times she served me something that looked like cat puke....being a mediocre cook to begin with, her "diet" foods weren't appealing, either.
God, I can't begin to explain why I hear her voice CONSTANTLY when I'm going down the food aisles at Wal-Mart. "That there, you mix it with this here, and it's three points," etc. Whenever I see the words on the app - I hear her voice. "Two points." "Zero points." "Points, points, POINTS." And I'm hearing impaired, explain that!?
She's never scolded me for my dieting snafus. The last thing she said to me before I hung up with her on Monday was, "It's all good. Just keep going."
But I've got no problem with admitting it to you guys. No one here knows me from a hole in the wall, and yet, sharing little things online has always been far more comfortable to me than sharing in person with someone who knows me. Someone who can see me. Tell me I'm not the only one?
So, yeah. I failed miserably last week, but I'm going to try to get back on track this week. I'm going to get back into my app and starting tomorrow, pay better attention to what I eat. I did make a lovely bean soup with white meat chicken on Monday. Today, I had balsamic chicken with roasted potatoes and vegetables. Tomorrow, J will be making pasta with meatballs, but I am going to measure what I eat. And I'm going to be downing the water. I wanted my popcorn snack while watching the baseball game tonight, but I decided against it.
It's all I can do, really. These little things.
Hoping to have better news for you all next week.
To myself...I'm sorry. I screwed up. I'm going to make it right.
To the scale - screw you. I'm coming back next week, and I'm owning you!
- Capulet
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Seven years
To whom it may concern,
I am sure I have mentioned this before but I want to re-examine what's going on and write it all down. Seven years. It has been seven years since it happened. Since he hurt me. It's actually going to be eight years this year.
I read a post a few months ago that said;
Today in science class, I learned every cell in our entire body is replaced every seven years. How lovely it is to know, one day I will have a body you will never have touched.
I found that poetic seeing as my seven year...anniversary of sorts would be coming up quite soon. When it finally had..I thought I would feel relief. I thought I would feel better. I thought my body would have been cleansed in some way. Like he had never done what he did. But that was when I realized, he hadn't just hurt me physically, he had scared me...ruined me...mentally as well. I realized he had a hold on me that no amount of dead cells could change. He had taken away my sense of safety, intimacy, my sense of beauty in the world. He had made me into the pessimistic asshole I am today.
Today, no matter how stupid it sounds, I have decided that I won't let him win. I will smile. I will laugh. I will find love. I will have kids. I will have create a life for myself that he will never be able to ruin. He will never ruin me again.
Sincerely yours,
Alice.
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Ugh
Today I’m feeling so lost. I just want to stay home I don’t even want to be here at work. Last night my mom called me and was telling me my brother wanted to see me and wanted to talk to me and that we were siblings and we needed to act like it. Like seriously he should of acted like it when we were growing up and he was being a douche bag to me and before he decided to stick his nasty ass hands down my pants!! He should of thought about that every time he would barge in when I was taking a shower. So seriously why in the hell would I want to even Want to see him let alone talk to him?? Granted my mom doesn’t know but still I don’t want anything to do with him
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Latest Entry
Acceptance
Feeling accepted is one of the most important pieces to overall well-being, in my opinion. For the longest time, I was convinced that no one could ever accept me, not if they really knew me...I thought that I was broken, that I had some internal, innate part of me that was unloveable and unworthy of compassion or acceptance. I've slowly been changing that, layer by layer, and while there is definitely still a small core part of me that is always there to whisper those terrible thoughts to me, I've come a lot closer to believing that I am just as worthy of love and acceptance as any other human being. I don't hate myself anymore, and some days I like, and even LOVE myself. I feel like I have things to offer the world, and the more I put myself out there, the more I find that people respond positively to me. I decided a little while back that since people are going to judge you no matter what, and no one is universally liked/loved/accepted, they might as well judge the real me, and not whatever version of myself I thought they would be most likely to appreciate.
It has been a long road to make it even this far, and I know I have more work ahead of me. I just started trying to date in a way that is more than 1-2 dates and then getting scared and never speaking to the person again. I had been dating this guy, Dan, for about 2 months, and I am leaving town for a temporary job, so I knew we weren't going to be seeing much more of each other. That said, Dan was very forthright in his feelings for me - he told me all these lovely things, complimented me and went on and on about how I wasn't like anybody he'd met before, he'd never felt this way, blah blah blah...I usually responded with a very eloquent "Oh...kay" to all of that. As things progressed, I started sharing more of my story with Dan, mostly because I felt bad that he was getting so serious and I was holding him at arm's length (not to mention the awkward sex part), but also because I felt like here was a great, respectful guy who really liked me, and if I want to have a real relationship, I should be able to be honest, right? So, I told him things, and he was always understanding.
Then last night, we met up for a drink, and we started talking and I realized he was telling me many of the same stories he'd told before. I have a weirdly detailed memory for things people tell me, so I didn't let it get to me. He didn't remember things I'd told him, like about my high school or my thoughts on a certain religion or whatever else...again, small details, whatever, it's hard to keep track of things. But then he started asking me about my family, and my brother, and did I have any nieces or nephews? And all of these questions, and in my mind I was thinking WTF??? I had told him about how my brother hasn't spoken to me in years and how hard that was and how I felt so guilty for leaving him with my dad when I left. I told him things I don't tell many people, and I had felt vulnerable and weird about it but I did it and it felt like such a positive step. And then he just...forgot??? Friends have come up with theories that he's a secret alcoholic or has a brain tumor or is dating so many girls he can't keep the background info straight, but personally, I think it is just that he had a certain idea of a girl he wanted, and I fit enough of the boxes that he decided I was 'amazing' and 'not like anybody else he'd met' and whatever other nonsense he said, but all of that was just a projection...he wasn't really interested in ME, he didn't really care about my story or what made me who I am or what's important in my life. He just wanted somebody, and ignored anything that didn't fit with his own fantasy. And that really hurts. That small part of me that still believes every person who looks at me is thinking how gross I am, that silly part that I've all but silenced, that part keeps trying to wiggle it's way in to my brain and convince me that "well of course he didn't remember, of course he wasn't genuinely interested in your story - who would be? I knew it was too good to be true. No one would think you were amazing if they really knew you."
So far, I've been able to tell that part of my brain "ok, thanks for your opinion - but fuck off, that's not true." It is totally his problem that he can't remember a major detail of someone's life (someone he supposedly is all a-twitter about, even) and a definite red flag and a great reason to not get all melancholy about leaving. It sucks that the first guy I confided in about that stuff, the first guy I dated for any real length of time, dealt with things this way, but I still believe it was a really positive step and a good experience. And hopefully next time, the person I tell will take it with the weight and with the intention that I think is reasonable to expect. Regardless of that dummy, I accept myself more than I ever thought would be possible, and I love who I am and I am proud of my story and what I have accomplished.
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# 6 Why I Feel Terrible/ Victim Identity
For so long I've felt so empty. The only emotions I experienced were sad pain hurt excruciating shame anxiety guilt worthlessness and more. The issue is, how can I have any positive emotions? I felt it was impossible
In therapy we explored the realization that it is all part of my identity as a victim. The definition of a good day was when nothing happened that would cause me those feelings. I realized that all these are how I exist.
My talents and achievements were not being considered as a part of my identity just things I do sometimes. What I have that no-one else does or what I do like smiling and caring to understand other people, to be sensitive. Why can't that also be part of my identity? And I decided to call that part Successful identity.
This has taken much thought and introspection and then thinking when I will do something "I want this to be part of my identity". It took a long time for me to clarify what I am and it's still trial and error. But it is a process.
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Her Evidence
Two nights ago was bad, i had a young visitor, Theresa, she is seven and is a part of me, we have met before but this time she came with pictures, pictures of her, of me at seven, these pictures showed me at seven , she is smiling at the camera, her big brother next to her trying to look cool, her father next to her smiling proudly with a loving arm wrapped around my beautifyul beaming mom, i just smiled when she showed me these pictures, thanked her for showing me i had good times as a little girl but then she handed me another stack of pictures of me in a basement, my eyes watering, a look of dread on her face, lifting the same dress in the happy pictures, showing her panties then the other pictures show me undressing eyes dead now, my smile gone now replaced by a frightened grin, Theresa gave me one last picture with shame in her eyes, a picture of her, of me twirling in my dress asking him to take my picture because i told him i was beautiful and he told me i was more beautiful under my pretty dress, once she left i self harmed pretty bad faced with the evidence she would always blame herself because of her evidence that she just wanted to be loved, her evidence that he groomed her it was wrong to want love, want pride in herself unless she was pleasing him, teleah
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Latest Entry
the song. part one lyrics
sometimes i feel, like im not really here.
sometimes i feel, like im not real.
sometimes the pain, is to much to bear.
so then Idissociate, dissociate. i dont want to be here anymore
dissociate, dissociate. lock away my feelings, no more pain anymore
dissociate, dissociate. i dont feel anymore.sometimes i feel, like im all alone
sometimes i hear, voices of the past in my head
sometimes i see, vision of pain in my mind
so then idissociate, dissociate, i dont want to be here anymore
dissociate, dissociate, i cant feel my face anymore
dissociate, dissociate, i will be in pain again, just not nowsometimes, my life is in third person.
sometimes. im a narrator of a sad nonfiction
sometimes, i cry and look at myself in the mirror.
so then idissociate, dissociate, i dont want to be here anymore
dissociate, dissociate, dont feel the pain anymore
dissociate, dissociate, this feeling i just cannot bear.is the mirror i look into me?
is the person i see even real?
i hope i can feel all the time sometime again.
and then i,dissociate, dissociate, feelings are to hard to face
dissociate, dissociate, what is this life anymore
dissociate, dissociate, i feel safe, being numbi feel.
you feel.
we feel.
sometimes i just disassociate, to keep my soul alive.also please dont copy this and share it around. ive had many times where people copy my poetry and claim its their own. im trusting you all to not do so.
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19
I'm too trusting. I started seeing this really cute guy and this morning I went over to watch movies. At first that's all it was. We cuddled and watched a scary movie but then he started kissing me. A little too rough but every time I told him to slow down and be gentle he ignored me. I let him keep kissing me but then he took my clothes off with out my permission. Only my shirt and bra because I hit him when he kept trying to take my pants off. Unfortunately he had picked me up so when I asked to go home he said no. For two hours that was how it was id let him do whatever but when I didn't want to I said no let me get dressed, take me him. Every time he said no and kept going until he was tired of keeping me held down. My friends told me to be careful around him and I ignored them and got hurt.
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Latest Entry
Who Am I
Who Am I
Love me…Love me for me…I am damaged…I am silly…I am quirky…I am different…I am me…
All that happened to me isn’t me…It wasn’t my fault…I didn’t know…I was a baby…I couldn’t know…
All those thing…those horrible things…they tore out my heart…they made me feel dirty…they changed who I would be…
I am a product of hurt…God used my pain…He used my past…He knew before I was formed…It made me, me…
I am gentle…I am caring…I love with my whole heart…Without my past I would’t be me…God knew who I would be…And loved me anyway…
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The future
I don't know where I will be in a few months, all I know is that I have to leave. I have to leave and get to a new place. Not just to start fresh, but because I can't end up like the rest of them. If I stay then I admit defeat, I admit that I can't do it. I won't let it happen. I will leave.
Every time I come back to this town it literally hurts, my heart sinks and it becomes to breathe. This town is literally trying to kill me. If I get stuck here then what? Will I ever feel better, or accomplish anything?
I don't want to be famous, I don't want to be a billionaire, I just want to be happy and safe.
That answer can only happen when I live and start a new chapter in my life, I cannot continue with the same chapter forever.It will get better, I just can't see it yet. I can't see the future but I have to trust that at some point it really will work out. It may take a long time, but I can get there. Some day.
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2
Things feel weird. Things always feel weird that isn't really a new feeling I guess.
In a few weeks I fly to Texas and then have to come back, pack my car and drive back down to Texas to live with my sister. That feels weird. I'm so lost. I don't know what my next step is supposed to be or where I'll be by the end of the year, in two years, five years. It seems impossible that I'll survive and yet I know I will. I'll be fine.
I've started over so many times let's just hope this one sticks.
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Latest Entry
Anxiety Shakes
Today I had to call my insurance company to sort out some claims they denied. They denied them because they didn't have the information about my last insurance policy to verify that it ended. There's some paperwork going out to get them that info, and then the claims should be approved.
It was OK as phone calls go - mostly just answering questions as asked. But I've always struggled with phone calls, and by the time I hung up I was ice cold, shaking, nauseated, and breaking out in cold sweats. I couldn't sit still for hours after.
Maybe next week this'll be sorted out and I can call and make an appointment with a psychiatrist. The nightmares have been getting worse. The flashbacks were really intense and near constant there for a bit; they've eased up a little now but I'm still getting them daily. And spending the rest of my time deathly tired and with my brain off in space.
I hope they'll do something to help. I've never really had a doctor believe me before.
Today was the first day in weeks that I had any energy at all, and that was because of how badly this phone call set off my anxiety. One day last week I was laying in my kitchen floor with all the lights off when my dad got home from work, because cooking 2 steaks and some rice took all my energy but I wanted to be close enough to know if anything boiled over or whatever, while I was waiting on him. Even getting out of bed to go downstairs and watch TV is a big deal lately.
I can't keep living like this, unable to do anything for myself. Something has to give soon.
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When I fall apart
I had a meltdown a couple of weeks ago. The day had started out ok I thought. Well, except for the fact that I was getting over a bad migraine from the night before and wasn't feeling so good. I've had someone describe it as a "migraine hangover". I've never gotten drunk before, so not sure how it compares to that kind of hangover, but I know what I experience isn't pleasant.
Anyway, back to my story. I was at college, which I am really enjoying, and was attending a workshop on test anxiety. I usually do ok when taking a test, but I do struggle with anxiety and thought it would be good to attend. It was a very small group with only 4 students attending, all females. The instructor was an older woman and seemed friendly. After the initial introduction to what we'd be learning, she handed out papers for us to fill out. The top half of the page we were to write down something negative that we would tend to tell ourselves whenever we'd make a mistake in everyday life. Then we were to write down three positive things we should say instead. I struggled some, but eventually came up with something. She then had us each read aloud what we'd written. Then we went on the rest of the page where we were to do the same exercise, only this time it was to be about when making a mistake in an academic setting: in class or taking a test, etc. I sat there and couldn't come up with anything and started to panic. My mind went blank and no matter how hard I tried, I could not come up with anything. My heart was starting to race and I could fell the anxiety rising quickly. The instructor kept trying to work with me to get me to write down something. Before I knew it, I was starting to cry. I was so frustrated. It was such a simple thing and I felt stupid and pathetic for having such a difficult time. I finally wrote something down and managed to calm down and made it through the rest of the workshop. I even did well on the short math test that she had us take to put into practice some of the things we had learned. I left feeling rather discouraged, afraid that I would have more of these kind of episodes in my regular class.
I headed to the restroom, planning to go back to my favorite spot to spend some time studying. While in the stall, I started thinking again of what had just happened and then I really fell apart. I was crying so hard and was so upset that I figured I'd better go see the counselor, but wasn't sure if I could make it over to her office. Just the week or so before I had started meeting with a counselor there at the college, dealing with a couple of issues and establishing a relationship so that if I found myself in a situation where I needed help I could see someone that I knew. Somehow I pulled myself together enough to be able to leave the restroom and made my way over to the counseling center. But when I stood at the receptionist's desk and started to say that I needed to see the counselor, I lost it again and couldn't speak from crying so hard. The receptionist was an angel and figured out what I needed and then offered to let me wait in a private room with the door closed until the counselor could see me. I didn't have to sit in there long before my counselor came and took me to her office. After what felt like a long time, my sobbing slowed down enough that I was able to talk and tell her what had happened. After talking with her for a while I was calmed down enough to leave and go on about my day, though I was totally drained and felt fragile.
I saw my regular counselor a few days later and told her what all had happened. She said that the instructor had not handled the situation well and the fact that I was just coming off of the migraine didn't help. But what was encouraging the most was that she said that I had handled it in a much healthier way than I would have even a few months ago. She said that it was good that I was able to let those emotions out instead of just trying to cram them back in and not deal with them. Also, the fact that I was able to take immediate steps to get the help I needed was a sign of growth. She felt confident that I probably wouldn't have issues like that during my classes or even during a test, but rather it was a one-time situation with multiple factors causing it, with the migraine being a major one. I did find out later that I wasn't the only one that started crying during the workshop. It happened to someone else the next day. Seems they need to change how they present this particular workshop. It was a relief to know that I wasn't the only one!
The whole thing really shook me up, so it was reassuring to hear the opinion of my counselor that I seem to be in a much healthier place that I had been. At the time, it felt like I was having a major setback. I know that there may be another time when I will fall apart, but I don't need to be afraid of it. I know that I have people to help me and that I will get through it.
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They got in my way...
I wanted to join the RAF and become a fighter pilot but a mental case got in my way....
Still trying to fight for justice against the Social Services, the health service, the Police, the department for education, the tourrete rapist, the diseased turd etc.. the list goes on and on....
Still can't quite fathom out how to get solicitor on my side so I can fight for justice and compensation...
Need to get the Tourette rapist and diseased turd out of my head and system...
I need stop the constant harassment and verbal abuse from the social services...
Need to put the Tourette rapists child porn scam in front of the crown court to clear my name....
It's been 26 years since I was able to get a good nights sleep...I really need a break....
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I'm back
I'm back
Given recent events, I feel fragile as I wander the aisles of the grocery store. I want to be left alone, which is unlike me as of late. I glance at a man here and there and wonder. An elderly one stands looking perplexed in the spice aisle. I consider offering help, but no, not today. I need to keep to myself. Opposite him, I reach for a bottle of olive oil. “Are you an expert?” He asks from behind. I turn and he engages me in a pleasant, lengthy conversation. As we part ways, he assures me that if he ever finds out what and where ham seasoning is, he'll let me know if we see each other later in the store.
Almost finished shopping, I swing through the meat area to grab some pepperoni. He's there talking to the butcher. “The ham seasoning is with the soups and bouillons,” he says. “Good to know!” I reply, smiling broadly. My hand extends naturally. He reciprocates. Shaking hands, we connect. “It's been an absolute pleasure,” I tell him.
I walk away knowing full well that God put him in my path today to assure me of the goodness of mankind. “It'd be nice to see him again,” I think to myself. That is highly unlikely.
God continues to play peek-a-boo with me. He shows up most unexpectedly when I most need to know love. He asks me not to cling to his messengers, but to him. So I thank him and hold the gentleman he gave me this morning in my heart. He knocked gently and eased his way back in.
As I leave the store, I greet Bill, my carry-out friend. We engage in a brief, warm conversation. I'm connected again. I'm open. I'm back.
December 4, 2017
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Ramblings...
Because my brain is all jumbled and my heart is hurting...
I am finding it hard to stay centered right now. I try and get about 3 good hours. After that I am worthless. I cant help but focus on the message I got Thurs. I cant help but think of all that may want me gone. I cant help but think of how much I wanted this job to work only to have this happen. This was my career. My place to retire. I keep trying not to cry. I have to move on and move forward. But what I want is to hide in my bed. I dont want to talk or see anyone. My insecurities are coming back to the surface. Things I try to hide in many ways.
I feel alone. But I set it up that way. I have pushed and pushed. The wall is still there even though I painted a pretty picture on it. Now it is a pretty wall. It still blocks the world from me. I am still protecting myself as much as possible. I still hold everyone at arm's length. That is true for everyone. I dont have long friendships. Hell I cant even keep friends.
I feel like a bit of a burden. My mood swings can be vast. I can spend a day in so many different moods I get motion sick. And when the wrong one sticks, it stays for weeks. Because I dont want to be the person who is dragging everyone down, I put on the face. Whatever was bothering me no longer matterson the outside. Inside I have so much to say. I have a need to release what is bubbling up inside. Normally I would take a drive to help clear my head. But I cannot do that due to my car acting up. And I dont even want to deal with that right now. I need to but I just want it to magically work for me.
Everyone says you look tired. I am. Physically, emotionally and mentally. Last thurs and fri I couldnt sleep. Caught an hour here and there. I normally spend a few days a week working 16hr days. So I am tired. If they only knew the emotional portion is taking the greatest toll on me.
So it is nearly 3am. I am writing this because I really want to go for a long walk and cry. I am writing this to not cause physical harm. I am writing thisbecause using my voice is too difficult. I am writing this so I get it out. I am writing this because drinking wont solve anything. I am writing this because I want a semi-peaceful sleep. I am writing this because I am hurting. I am writing this becauseI want a hug but cant accept it. I am writing this because it is 3am and I cant stop thinking.
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Epiphany?
Today has been a very lazy day physically. I have done a lot of schoolwork and no chores, just self reflection. I've decided to change my mindset about my pregnancy and my delivery. I was thinking of meditating every day on things going a certain way. My mantra for my baby boy:
Strong, healthy, happy, smart, beautiful
My mantra for me during labor and delivery:
I am the goddess, I am the Earth
I let go and relax into the waves of creation
I cannot think of better mantras. I believe in the power of intention, of visualization and affirmation. I believe I can make this time around much better than the first time. I know what it is like now and hopefully my body will remember how to do it. My body was made to be a mother biologically so there is no reason why I shouldnt be able to accomplish a normal, joyful, spiritual birth. My fears doubts and anxieties have all been misplaced. It has nothing to do with anyone or anything else, this amazing journey of motherhood. I must simply be in the moment and do what feels natural. If I am triggered I will repeat my mantras over and over and visualize the awesome creative power of the goddess, of our mother earth and maybe draw from her for strength. For the past week I have visualized and meditated and the difference is astronomical. I cant express how very much stress and anxiety i bled that i shouldnt have had in the first place. I was meant to be a mother. I believe in reincarnation, and that you choose your incarnation for the lessons you will learn throughout the course of your lifetime that can be used as evolving on the path to the creator. I believe once we have reached the last step in our spiritual evolution we can choose to become one with everything or remain behind to teach. I know I have a long way to go for that last step, but it makes me realize that I chose this incarnation. I needed this strength gained through pain and different perspective and knowledge. I have work to do here, and I may not be able to without experiences like the ones that brought me to this site.
I guess you could say I had an epiphany in the quiet of solitude and schoolwork. It changed my whole outlook on a lot of things. I understand everything in my life now on a grand scale. Maybe some minute details still escape me but i am now able to look at my life and myself as things to be cherished, not abhorred. Im so deeply moved and thankful for this moment of acceptance and forgiveness of myself and others and peace with my path. I pray this attitude stays with me no matter what happens and that I can pass the good points of all of this to my children.
I no longer let anyone bring me down no matter what they do or say. I respect myself completely and dont let anyone hurt me.
I realize this post may be a little religious and I apologize for those whose religion is different than mine, my intention of course is not to offend. Just simply healing and recovering and moving forward in my own time as much as i can.
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Latest Entry
Part two....
May 2013 we had just moved in to the new house. I was trying to hide the bruise for him and the cuts on my wrists. I just wanted to die. Weeks pass and me and him don’t talk I find out that I was pregnant and at age 15 that info can scare the crap out of you. I cried for days. I couldn’t let my family know they would be so mad at me. About a mouth after I found out I was pregnant I got in a fight with a girl at school because her boyfriend was leaving her for me.( I had left him because he just wanted me to runaway with him and I didn’t want that. So I left him and went to date let’s call him guy. Guy and I were together for a mouth before he raped me to. The night it happened I brought him to my house and let him in though my window no body was home but I still had to hide him . He and I sat there talking for a hour or so and then he did it pinned my to my own bed in my room and just ripped close off and forced he way I want he wanted. I cried but couldn’t scream my sister would wake up and I couldn’t have that so I just layed there crying and when he left I didn’t leave my bed for three days and one day I took a shower and next thing I know I am no longer pregnant. Guy stayed in my life for far to long December of 2013 I tried to kill myself in my bath tub by cutting my left wrist I had six stitches and three days in a mental hospital. When I came home from that guy called me and I started to talk to him again because I thought he would change his ways but it never changed. Between December 2013 and June 2014 I had two more miscarriages and guy and Sam the threed guy raped me at least 10 time before me and guy get arrested for trying to kill my family I needed help and nobody wanted to get the help I needed so I put my self where they had no other option but to help me I have been in therapy for five years I was on probation for two years in foster care 7 mouths and in treatment and year and one mouth and in jail a mouth. Now I am happily married going to school to become a hairdresser and now life couldn’t be better my past has beat me down for years and still does but I’ll get though it I have this long..- Read more...
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Latest Entry
Missing my light.
My light or as I like to call him. My William. He is someone who I never thought that I would find. Its hard for me because everyone is trying to keep us apart. How do I deal with that when I can feel it in my soul that he is right for me. They will never understand that when I find someone who can relate to my fears that that is something very special to me. I just wish that they would let me be happy and be with the one who makes me feel whole again.
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Latest Entry
Who´s fault...?
If someone blames survivors or tell them "it couldn´t not that bad" I pray for him to become scilent, think it over and thank GOD for not being able to understand them.
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Latest Entry
My story -TW
When I was 19 I joined my family on their summer holiday. I was a student and skint and couldn’t afford to go away with friends. Neither could my friend Kayleigh; so she came on holiday with us.
kayleigh liked to party - me not so much but it was Kayleigh’s holiday too so one night, towards the end of our holiday, we went along to the neighbouring town to go out dancing.
We had a lovely Chinese meal, polished off a bottle of wine and then went for a drink. The pubs stared closing so we got directions and a taxi to the club. It was upstairs via a lift. It was quiet when we got there but got busy quickly. Kayleigh spoke the local language and soon these two guys were buying us drinks. Tall and Lanky spoke English and Kayleigh and him were enjoying excercising their linguistic abilities. His friend Short and Stocky didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak the local language so we danced and muddled through with gestures. They bought us drinks all night and after a short time they suggested we go to another club better than this one... I was wary, but drunk and quickly talked into it by Kayleigh.
We then got in their car?!?! to drive there. We arrived, it had heavy big curtains and was really busy. I danced with Short and Stocky a bit more but was starting to feel very drunk. Drunker than I’d ever been. My peripheral vision had disapeared... it was looking through a tunnel and my legs were like jelly. The bar man handed me water, Short and Stocky took it but the bar man gave me another one.
We left, I thought we were going home. We went to the beach. Kayleigh disappeared with Tall and Lanky. It was just me and Sort and Stalky. He walked, I stumbled along through the sun beds for a bit and sat down on a pair; either side of the umbrella.
I don’t remember exactly what happened next but he was on my sunbed. Then he was on top of me. Then he was inside me.
I shouted for Kayleigh, I cried, I tried to push him off. It was as though I weren’t there... he said nothing. His eyes glazed over.. Some kids further along the beach mimicked my shouts back at me. I gave up. I stopped fighting, I stopped crying. I just lay there and let him.
When end he was done, he moved back to the other sunbed, reclining on his back. I tried to run away. I tripped and fell face first into the sand. It was so cold - I remember feeling incredibly shocked by that. It sort of jolted me to my senses. I had no idea where we were, no money - although in retrospect I’m not sure where it had all gone. I had no viable choices.
Kayleigh arrived back with Tall and Lanky, laughing and joking. I got in the car with them.
We didn’t go home, again we stopped at another beach... quieter and closer to where we were staying. I recognised it. I could have run away, but I couldn’t really walk unaided, I could have tried though. Instead I got on a sunbed and let him do what he wanted... I told myself I wanted it too, he wasn’t making these choices for me, it wasn't rape because I’d decided not to run, not to fight and to let him. I was wrong. He raped me again; this time he really went for it... the bruises lasted for weeks.
Eventually Kayleigh and Tall and Lanky returned. They drove us to our apartment. Kayleigh’s normally terrible sense of direction had disapeared.
I got out of the car and Kayleigh followed.
Back in our room she said “I heard you shouting” and asked if I’d had a good night. I said yes and got into bed, one though dominated my mind.
They knew where we were staying - I was terrified.
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Latest Entry
I don't know why i'm here
So I was raped a few months ago. At first, I guess I disassociated a bit, but now I'm fine. How is that possible? You guys have all these forums about PTSD, depression, DID, anxiety, and so much more. Why don't I feel any of this? I don't freak out a lot, sometimes I do but sometimes it's normal right?, I don't hate myself or think I'm worthless. The only things I guess might be related would be spending more time with myself than I used to but I still hang out with friends, even party, though they are very small parties. And I can't seem to remember a lot but I'm not sure if that's related.
I started seeing someone because I was concerned I couldn't have relationships because I don't feel. That was about a month ago. Now I have a bf and it seems fine. Sex is weird but not really weirder than at any other time. At first, I disassociated during it but now it's fine. I have to see her again today and don't even know what to say. I wasn't supposed to get a bf and I was supposed to have sex but I mostly trust the kid and he's grown on me. She also wanted me to join a support group, which is why I'm here in the first place, but I don't think I belong here.
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Latest Entry
I guess this is my life
***** Trigger Warning***
I don't know how I feel today. Sorta numb, like a numb pain gnawing at me. If that makes any sense. I think I was r*ped a few weeks ago. I'm not sure. I begged him to stop but he didn't. I guess the fact that he had just squeezed my neck until I passed out meant nothing. I saw a light, thought I was going to die... And for some twisted reason that made me happy. I was smiling as my body came in contact with the bed. I was happy because I thought it was over. I feel alone. There's nobody I can tell. I'm scared they won't believe me. I'm scared that they'll blame me and say that I wanted it because I invited him over to talk at night. That it was my fault for trusting a guy to be alone with me at night despite knowing how guys can be. I'm pushing people away, because I have this on my chest and I can't tell them. To date, this has been the second worst holiday season ever. I almost made it to a year with out cutting, but a I failed. The next night, I invited him over to ask him what happened. I wanted him to tell me what he did to me. I needed him to say that it was rape so I'd know for certain that that was what it was.He didn't even mention it. He talked about the choking and stuff, but nothing about putting himself inside me despite me pleading with him not to and pushing him away. There are so many thoughts in my head but I don't know what else to add. I guess this is the end.
