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I am a survivor of sexual violence and this is my story!
I was born and raised in beautiful British Columbia, Canada. I am a product of divorce and I have one brother, a half sister and a step brother. I was a happy child until I was 7 years old......
When I was 7 years old my great uncle started following me into my grandmas basement where I would play on her computer. He would sit beside me with his hands down my pants pretending to help me play games.. He would never say anything while he molested me... Not a word it just happened..or maybe he did talk to me and I just blocked it all out.... When he would hear someone coming down the stairs he would pull his hands out of my pants and tell me he would be right back... I hated being down there with him and after a while I gained the courage to stay upstairs when visiting my Grandma so the molestation would stop. When my Grandma asked why I didn't want to go down stairs anymore I told her that Uncle was creepy. She told me that he was mentally challenged and that he would never do anything to hurt me. Boy was she wrong!!! Turns out my great uncle molested my mother when she was younger as well. After the abuse he started asking me for hugs I never wanted to touch him, but my Grandma would insist and I did not want to disappoint her.
When I was 10 years old my Uncles girlfriend who was 19 years old at the time use to babysit me and my brothers. She was such a cool person until she started making us watch porn and look at dirty magazines. It was the weirdest porn too! She would google Simpsons porn and Disney porn thinking that since we were kids we would like it better. At first I thought to myself "right on she is so cool letting us watch this sort of thing!" But eventually it started to make me feel very uncomfortable. Thank goodness my older step brother told my dad and we were never allowed over there again. It was such a relief!!
At the age of 12 I had a crush on my step brothers best friend. I wanted him to like me so bad, but one day when he slept over he snuch into my room and he sexually violated me when I was sleeping. He started rubbing my vagina and fondling my chest. It woke me up, but I froze and pretended to sleep. I am so ashamed that I never stopped it. I was scared that if I woke up he would get into trouble and he would not be allowed to hang out with my brother. The same thing happened to me by my neighbor a few months after when I was at sleepover party. He tried to put his hands down my pants when I was sleeping, but this time I woke up and was able to stop him. Now that I look back at the situation I consider it a small victory and a glimpse of what ever self respect I had left at the time.
By 13 I trusted no one in my life because everyone close to me either betrayed me by letting people molest me after I told them what happened or they tried to exploit and abuse me themselves.
When I would visit my dad on weekends my stepmother would continuously tell me that I dressed too provocatively, I looked like a sl*t, I was going to be promiscuous and become just like my mother. All the negative comments took a toll on my self esteem, I became depressed and started to act just like my mother.
Let me tell you a little about my mother: She was the product of incest. Her mother and her father where cousins. She was molested as a child and she was criticized everyday at school for being inbred. One night to numb her pain she got so wasted that she blacked out and ended up cheating on my father. They divorced when I was 5 years old. The divorce was the straw that broke my mothers back. She began to drink like a fish, do drugs heavily and sleep with anyone who would give her the time of day. There was always creepy men in our house. One day my mom met a man who beat her to a pulp and then raped her while her children were in the house. She charged him and he went to jail. He was sentenced to 2 years in jail. I remember the day she was assaulted and I remember the day the police called her to let us know he was back on the streets. I never felt safe anywhere after he was released.
After her assault and rape she met a man online. She took us to Vancouver Island where I was forced to babysit 5 kids at the age of 12 in a strange house and place that I knew nothing about. That night they went to the bar and the house I was babysitting in was robbed. To protect the children in the house I hid us all in a room upstairs locked the door and turned off the lights. After about an hour of rummaging through the house the robbers left. When my mom and the man got back she was so drunk that she could barely stand. The man took her upstairs and I could hear them having sex.
When I turned 13 years old I met this a girl my age on a trip to see family. She introduced me to two 19 year old boys. While they where at the place I was staying one of the boys stole $300 from my suitcase with out me knowing. They ended up using my money to buy drugs and alcohol. I wanted to numb the pain I felt inside so I decided to get drunk! We hitched hike to an old school bus that the boys converted into a house. While we were there I was almost raped by one of the 19 year olds, but luckily I was spared and he only put his hands down my pants. My friend wasn't as lucky and the other boy raped her in front of us. In the morning the boys kicked us out of the bus and made us hitch hike home alone and hungover. When we arrived back to the place I was staying at I discovered that all my hard earned money was gone and I had to phone my mom to tell her I was robbed. I left everything else out knowing I was in the wrong and that it was my fault that this had happened to me.
I ended up losing my virginity at 14 years old to a 18 year old boy who pressured me into having sex with him. We had sex in my Grandmas house when she was at Bingo. He didn't tell me he had a girlfriend at the time. He lied to both of us by telling her I was his cousin and telling me she was his cousin. He took both our virginities that summer and I regret giving it to him because he didn't deserve it.
As soon as I turned 15 I started lying about my age telling boys that I was 17 years old so that I was allowed to consent to sex. I believed that lieing about my age some how made me feel better about myself. I honestly didn't know what normal behavior of a 15 year old girl was suppose to be. I just thought sex was normal and that's all I was good for. That's all anyone ever wanted from me.
I was desperately looking from love in all the wrong places. Thinking that if I found it I would feel whole again. When I moved in with my Grandmother at 15 I met a boy my age and we were together for 6 years. We were both young and raised by dysfunctional families. His mom was a crack dealer and her boyfriend was a very scary man. He once held a lady hostage with a shot gun in the basement while we where in the house. Eventually the Emergency Response Team caught wind and they raided the house, but instead of treating us like victims when they broke down the door they pointed guns in our face, tackled me to the ground and drug me through the snow with no shoes on. At the time I was only 16 years old. I didn't even know what was going on in the house. From that moment on I couldn't trust the police to protect me. They treated me like I was the one holding that lady hostage when in reality I had no idea until after the fact. They kept me in a cell and refused to feed me or let me talk to anyone until I told them what happened in the basement.
When I was 19 years old we had a beautiful baby daughter. Her father told me to get an abortion and told me he never wanted to have kids. From that moment on the relationship was doomed as we were not ready for this much responsibility. The stress of having a child lead to our break up a year later. A week after the break up I decided to go to the bar to look for a rebound. Little did I know I was going to receive the rebound that could have ended my life. I was date raped by two men who drugged my drink. They took me from the bar and then brutally raped me in the middle of no where in a trailer on a mountain. One of the men strangled me until I would black out and hit me in the face while yelling at me to pee on him. I tired to, but couldn't. He threw me in a shower and started spraying me in the face with water. I tried to give him what he wanted so that he would stop hurting me, but I couldn't. He turned the water off, spit in my face and left the room. His friend entered the room after he left, pulled me out of the shower and raped me as well. When they were done with me I didn't know what to do, I was so traumatized. In a panic I decided to put my clothes back on and I walked over to the first guy, gave him a hug and told him "I had a great time." It was the hardest thing I ever had to say. But by doing that they decided to drove me into town where they left me to find my way home. It took me forever to find out where I lived. I never told anyone what happened to me. The next weekend I was out with friends and I saw the same two men who raped walk into the bar. I froze and the flashbacks started!
I felt lost, discouraged and I didn't know what to do with my life. I became so severely depressed from being raped and abused most of my life that I made the awful decision to sell my body. I felt as if this was the only way that I could support my daughter and my alcohol addiction while coping with the trauma. My self worth was at an all time low as I started meeting men online without anyone knowing. I figured that the sexual abuse in my life was never going to stop, so I decided I might as well give them what they wanted and make some money doing it! During this time I was introduced to MDMA and Cocaine. It numbed my pain and I formed a bad habit. I told myself I would never do drugs, but I also didn't think I would ever be molested as a child and raped as a woman. My life was spiraling down hill and no one knew... I was so good at pretending everything was okay. I had to be strong for my daughter and the people around me. Everyone thought my life was perfect, but it was far from!
While online I met many men who tried to coax me into pornography. They wanted to exploit me in any way they could. I kept refusing and promised myself that I would never go on film for my daughters sake. It was one of the best and hardest decisions that I ever made in my life. One of the men who tried to exploit me on film forced an object inside of my body when we were high on MDMA and I had to get it surgically removed. The man wouldn't even take me to the hospital after I begged him to. I had to call a so called friend to take me to the hospital to have it removed. My friend eventually raped me a few weeks after the incident when I was passed out in a hotel room during my friends birthday party. When I woke up the next morning I knew that I had sex and I asked him if it was with him. He said " Yes, I thought it was okay because we are friends"
at 23 I was recruited by a pimp to join a brothel located in Kelowna, BC where he made me and numerous other girls sell our bodies to anyone who entered into the building. I was raped 4 times while working there and watched other girls endure the same abuse. I was also beaten, robbed and mentally abused by the girls, clients and the man running the brothel.
By this point in my life I was completely broken and wanted to end my life. I considered suicide numerous times. I tried cutting myself and overdosing, but I just could not follow through with it. I had a daughter to live for! She meant everything to me and I wanted to break the cycle for her!
Luckily I did not kill my self because when I turned 24 years old I met the man of my dreams. We fell deeply in love and he promised that he would protect me from all the toxic people who ever hurt me in my life. He made every one go away! I was able to get out of prostitution immediately with his help, but with leaving came a price. I was being sexually harassed for wanting out. Men would send videos they took of without know and they would message my husband saying things like "how could you marry a good for nothing hooker" ,"I hope you know who she use to be" they would threaten my life and the lives of people I loved. One man hunted my Grandmas address down and told me that I owed him sex for money he gave me to help pay my bills and if I didn't give it to him he was going to her house to hurt her. The stalking lasted for quite awhile and I could't understand why thee men would not let me go!
6 months after meeting the man of my dreams we were married. He continues to protect me from the demons of my past and he has taught me how to love and respect myself. Recovery is a hard road because I feel that I don't deserve to be happy or treated with dignity and respect. My road to recovery comes with a lot of baggage and it strains our relationship from time to time, but I let him know everyday how much he means to me and that I don't ever want to ever lose him! We now have a beautiful baby daughter together and he is an amazing step father to my first daughter. He has now made me feel worthy of self love and respect and we continue to grow together.
I struggle everyday with the psychological, Physical and emotional effects my sexual trauma has caused. I still try to numb the pain with alcohol from time to time, but it makes my symptoms worse. Slowly I have quit drugs and now only smoke pot to help relieve my anxiety and depression. I have never talked to a professional nor have I ever shared my story because I am afraid to be judged and unloved. I feel that no one will believe what I have been through and they will think I brought this lifestyle on myself. For the record I did not choose to be raped, I did not choose be abused as a child and I did not I did not choose the consequences of this trauma and how it effected my ability to love myself . But I did choose to be a warrior! It is not an easy road, but it is sure in the hell better then the road I was on.
I hope to one day live a sober life, so that I can feel free from the pain of the past... Volunteering has made a big difference in my life and I have volunteered for Lyme disease, the womens shelter, cancer, the city parade, the womens coalition, Christmas food hamper, youth groups and many other not for profit organizations. Giving back to my community has made a huge impact in my recovery and I am so grateful to have the opportunity to help others in their time of need. One day I plan to create a youth program ran by survivors that will teach children how to use their voice when someone tries to abuse them in any way. It will offer a place for children to turn to when they have no where else to go or when no one believes their story. I want to call the program H.O.M.E ( Healing Our Minds Everyday)
It has been almost 5 years since my abuse ended and I am now 29 years old. Ever since high school it was my dream to plan events and I have finally achieved that goal! My occupation is office manager and events coordinator of a successful family resort. This milestone would never have been reached without the support from my amazing husband, the love of my daughters and my will to survive!! I get to live the life I've always dreamed and I honestly would not change a thing. All the trauma and all the pain has made me who I am today!
When you are in the midst of experiencing abuse and trauma you never believe it is going to get better and the violence becomes normal. I cannot be more grateful for my guardian angels who watched over me during my early years. They sent me my husband just in the nick of time! I would not be here today if he did not come along and teach me how to love myself.
My goal is to help shed light on the ugly truth that sexual violence is more common then you think. I want to help other survivors end their silence by sharing my story in detail! The longer you stay silent the longer you will take to heal. The more we talk, the louder we will become and the louder we are the more people will listen!
Thank you for taking the time to read my story! I am so grateful to be here today to share it with you all!
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I'm not sure what today's blog is going to be primarily about, so we'll call it a smorgasbord. We'll try a little bit of everything! It's been a turbulent week (I've been using that word a lot - I feel it best describes a lot of the unexpected emotional twists I've had to endure this past week) and today is only the second day that I haven't felt as if I were on the verge of tears. I've done a lot of thinking and have been able to put a few things into perspective, so am feeling stable enough to try and transfer some of it here.
To start with, I have an interesting question for my survivor friends and peers.
Do any of you experience an unexplained physical coldness/chill during those 'turbulent' anniversary time frames? My anniversary has already passed - it was on the 4th of this month, but I am wondering if some of the side effects are taking me a little bit longer to move past? It is 67 degrees in my house at the moment (I've checked the thermostat multiple times!) - and I'm FREEZING. My fingers are literally icicles. I've been 'cold' all week last week and thought it was because of the drop in overall temperatures, but....67 degrees? I shouldn't be dressed like an eskimo and have my hood on while indoors just yet. Aside from feeling like my bones are constructed purely out of ice cubes, I feel fine. I do not have a temperature, I am not sniffly or have a cough. My fiancee remains a furnace (I wouldn't want to subject her to cuddling with me right now, though) and my kids have said that they're not cold. I do have to add that I remember feeling cold, above other things, on that night 22 years ago, but I cannot remember if I felt this same unnatural chill during last year's anniversary time - or the previous, and so on. Is this new??? And if it is, what brought this on?
So, I had my second group session last night. More people showed up to this one - and one person from the first meeting was there. They first started off with some meditation - something I don't have a whole lot of experience with. I was having trouble with the listening part (the leader was instructing us all to take our deep breaths, try and picture a safe place, inhale, exhale, relax this, relax that) and I couldn't really participate-along with the rest of them because by the time I got the 'message' to do whatever, she was already moved onto the next thing. It wasn't her fault - it's just a casualty that being deaf has taught me to have to accept from time to time. So, safe to say, this part of the meeting was not effective for me. And I'd soon learn that the meditation was something leading up to the NEXT part - although I do already have a lot of experience with journaling, she handed out plain black-and-white composition notebooks and asked us to decorate the cover to reflect and show where our 'safe place' was during the prior meditation process. A place that I'd not 'arrived' at, nor would I be able to envision as effectively as the rest of the ladies in the room.
Well, SHIT. I'm already flunking at support groups!
So, after some quick deliberation, I ended up taking a different approach on the design of my journal cover. I'll PROBABLY not use my journal at all - this is the place where I've been able to most effectively convey my deepest thoughts. Maybe I'll consider printing out some of my most powerful and impactful entries and pasting them into the book - perhaps there will be a future discussion where I'll be able to read from some of those entries - I'll have already thought them out and perhaps they will resonate with someone else. Otherwise, the pages will likely remain blank.
To fill a page wasn't even the assignment; it was to present a decorated cover - depicting or representing my safe place. It's safe to say I don't really have a 'place,' but there are some things that I try to remind myself of when I meditate - or rather, through my own way of meditation. Yes, I do the deep breaths, I do inhale and exhale, but while I do this, I do not picture a particular place. I instead mentally throw all of my cards onto the table and address each of whatever my current struggles are, with a motivating counter-thought.
And lately, I probably could do with a little more of (my type) of meditation. I'm going to sideline this particular thought train for a little while so that I can explain a little bit more about why I'm feeling the excess turbulence this month.
We already know by now that it's my anniversary month - and that this year, I'm experiencing some different side effects.
Another thing that's been on my mind....(and this is something I've had that internal debate on whether or not I should share it with you guys or keep it to myself)...is a recent dialogue with J that has left me very confused, very unsettled and very anxious.
First off, it wasn't a fight. We don't fight. We sometimes disagree, but neither one of us wants to fight with the other - we talk about things more often than not, but there ARE times where we 'drop' things and leave them alone because it's something that's not going to be resolved and falls into the 'just bitching' category. Sometimes this is best, but lately, it's only succeeded in mounting our problems and issues and they are now starting to wiggle like a stack of Jenga blocks threatening to come tumbling down at any moment.
I've mentioned before that she's become more social and has taken a liking to going out with her friends after work. Sometimes it's once a week, sometimes it's twice. I've also mentioned previously that I am absolutely hating this - not that she's blossomed into a social butterfly, because that isn't necessarily a bad thing, but more so that she's found things to do and ways to have fun that do not involve me but instead involve people that are seemingly taking up 'more' of her than I am. I don't even know if I feel this way because I'm not at that same point in my own life, but either way, it has left me feeling more and more lonely than usual. And lately, I've been more openly 'bitter' about her spending time with her friends - she'll, as a courtesy, let me know when she has made spontaneous plans after work, and I'll usually respond with a one-liner that fails to hide my disappointment. Last week, this such one-liner was, "Ughhhhh." PROBABLY not the best choice of words, but in the moment, it's what my fingers wanted to type.
Now, she KNOWS how I feel about social situations in general, and she knows about the anxiety I feel when it comes to the expansion of my own social circle. She also knows that I quietly fume to myself whenever I'm told I won't be seeing her after work. I have been honest about that and we both understand this is a direct result of what my ex has successfully ingrained in me. She continues to remind me that I am no longer married to him, I am FREE now, and I need "more than just her" in my life. This, too, is something I am struggling with - because for the last ten years that I've been divorced, it's been just her and I - there wasn't a need for me to have 'other people' to share (EVERYTHING) with. It was a nice, comfortable, PRIVATE circle. Either way, I've recently (probably for the last year) watched her change in multiple ways, from the person she used to be into a more evolved version of herself. She's now made a true friend out of her boss, is becoming more and more friendly with co-workers and has taken more interest in doing things outside of our home 1-2 days a week. As a direct result of some of these changes in her, she has now taken notice of me becoming increasingly withdrawn and snippy. On top of all of this, she's also made the choice to return to therapy, a choice I support 100% since she's also mentioned the need to do some maintenance work on herself - something I think we ALL need from time to time.
I'm not sure if the return-to-therapy is what prompted her to bring up on Sunday evening, that she felt that we BOTH needed to work on things within our relationship. She made it clear that while she wasn't unhappy, she just felt that there were some things that needed changing.
This confused the fuck out of me, I won't lie. The first thing that came to mind, was, "Oh, my God, I'm losing her."
And for the entire day on Monday, I sat in silence and solitude - ready to cry at the drop of a hat - and thought, thought some more and thought HARD. About everything that was said on Sunday night - which confused me even more. She had stated she wanted me to be 'okay' with her outings so that she didn't feel guilty about them. I told her that I wasn't going to hold her back from going out with her friends, but at the same time, I couldn't be expected to be automatically okay with it, either. It was something I needed to work at, as well as something entirely new that I needed to adapt to. On Sunday, it got to the point where she ended up telling me that I've been saying I would figure it out for a while now (truth) and haven't done so, yet. I responded that I was trying - "Rome wasn't built in a day!" Another thing she mentioned was that she wanted me to be more honest with her about what I was feeling - which baffled me, because I guess, I thought I already was. My "ughhhh" text message was an honest response. My admission that this wasn't easy for me was another honest thought. My snippiness and grouchiness whenever she talks about her pals, you'd think that is all based on some form of honesty.
How much more honesty did she want from me? I think she sensed there was more that needed to be said, but at the moment, I was feeling lost and was drawing blanks. Granted, emotions were running wild and I admit to having lost my shit on Sunday night during our talk, in an ugly-cry sort of way. We both agreed to take the day on Monday to do some thinking and we'd reconvene when we were both in a better frame of mind.
So, on Monday, after a long day of reflection, I was able to summarize a little bit more of what I was feeling and I broke it down some to J. Not by choice - I was already semi-crying when she got home from work. I had tried my hardest to hide from her my 'I'm holding it in' face, but when you're with someone for as long as we've been together, these things become virtually un-hideable. She asked me what was the matter and I lost it again.
And so, out it came. What I'd realized in the less than 24 hours since Sunday's blind-siding conversation. I have not changed. She has. She now has a more demanding job. As is, our time spent together has diminished greatly. She works a 40-hour week and VERY often ends up putting in a ton of OT to make it a SIXTY-hour work week. Add to that, she's become so increasingly tired, unnecessarily stressed out, and on the days she comes home from work, all she wants to do is eat a quick dinner and go to sleep. And as far as her friends go - it feels like they get more out of her than I do because she goes out with them AFTER an already extended day at work. I VERY rarely even SEE her before she leaves in the morning (it's usually right after 6am) and when she's out with her friends, she comes home at 10 or 11pm and I'm LUCKY to get a five-minute conversation out of her before she's snoring. She spends time with her boss for just about the entire duration of the work day and then there's the 'after work' activities that include this same woman, (counting two separate occasions when J went to help her move into her new apartment) so yes, maybe I do have a legitimate problem with that and maybe this is why the MENTION of this woman's name makes me envious enough to want to punch something. MAYBE this is why when J invites me to come along, I really don't have any interest in it. These are the people who are taking her away from me; (I know that's an unrealistic, paranoid thought, but for the moment, it was yet another honest take on it) why would I want to associate with them? They represent the 'fun' that she's having that I am not a part of. I am instead left feeling genuinely lonely after lately not seeing much of my one and only consistent 'person.'
And that's just not a nice feeling at all - it's how I felt when I was married to my ex and he didn't want me to have any 'other' people - and it's not how I want to make J feel, either. You see, I KNOW where my strengths and weaknesses are - and perhaps the biggest confusion here is - neither one of us has done anything wrong. We remain faithful to one another - that's never been a question. We love each other. We just are, for the moment, at different places in our social lives and she's just more comfortable with her newfound status than I am. And just because she has changed, does not mean I also have to if it's not what I want or am not mentally ready for.
I honestly DO, though. I don't want to let this go right now and then have to revisit the same problem ten, fifteen years down the road when she and her boss friend decide to take up knitting together after work days. (Another unrealistic guess, but y'all get the point I am trying to make!) I am absolutely TERRIFIED that if, by some twist of fate, I ever lost her, I would TRULY be a mess. I'd force myself to physically move on but emotionally, that is going to be the challenge of my life, as I've no desire to forge this type of connection with anyone else, should she become unavailable to me. I can honestly say I'd be FINISHED and a permanent emotional shut-down would likely be inevitable.
We had a longer (calmer) talk after my (blatantly honest) little outburst.
I first have to admit that it didn't feel so good, though, guys. I know that we're not likely to get what we need or want unless we ask for it, but I can't help but feel as if expressing these (irrational or not?) fears has made her see me in an entirely different light. Does she now see me as an inconsiderate, ungrateful, needy bit*h? I am not a selfish person at all and I'm admittedly the type to want to avoid confrontation at all costs, so just spitting out all of this inner poison has made me feel even more like shit! I thought it was supposed to feel GOOD to take any kind of a stand - but nope, I'm not feeling that, just yet.
But, despite what I'm feeling, she heard me. And unlike my ex, she actually acknowledged what I was saying and where I was coming from. This, too, is something that STILL floors me, even after almost a decade of being in a healthy, trusting, communicative relationship. Maybe that's why this feels like uncharted territory - I've NEVER had that before. If I ever were to tell my ex how I felt, he would have slammed me back with insults describing how the way I was feeling was entirely my fault and about how truly damaged I was. My J and my ex are absolutely not the same person - not by a long shot - J is a kind, loving person while my ex was a monstrous asshole that has succeeded in reducing my self worth into an unidentifiable pulp.
We have decided that she will work on being more present when she's at home. Together, we'll do whatever it takes, we'll go out, we'll engage in activities that will keep her from falling asleep so soon after coming home from work. Bowling two nights a week certainly helps! We'll liven up our relationship by having a once-a-week dinner date night (not a bowling night), where it will just be the two of us. We'll have a drink together. We'll take in the occasional movie. We'll try new things. Last night was the first of several 'date nights' to come; we met up at a local steakhouse after my group meeting. And it was truly nice to take that time to start to reconnect - because, as much as I hate to admit it, we DID lose something along the way. It's never been MORE important to me to try and reclaim that connection before it drifts even further, simply because she's become too busy or I'm responding by shutting down.
And in the meantime, I have some work to do....more so for myself than for anyone else - but work regardless. I will work on trying to find other things to become involved in and I will do so at my own pace. I will put my social anxieties aside and join her on an outing with her work friends from time to time - and I will ATTEMPT to get to know some of them. I've already spent some time with the boss lady, and all jealousies aside, she is not a terrible person. I will keep more of an open mind when it comes to dipping my toe into these social situations.
We have established that relationship-wise, I trust my J completely, I am not afraid she'll fall in love with someone else. This isn't the issue. I've determined that I am more afraid that she'll eventually evolve even more and discover that she truly likes or wants more than what she has with the boring, laid-back, homebody that I have learned to be. I am loyal. I am trustworthy. But right now, I don't feel 'fun,' nor do I have much to offer someone as far as a good time goes. I'm stuck in a rut and I NEED to climb out of it.
And so, I am going to begin to work on trusting MYSELF; and in my ability to intiate a transformation of my own. Given where I am right now and all of the damage that has already been done, it may take years. But, I will get there. I think I just needed to feel more united and connected with my "main" person in order to take these steps toward learning to trust and confide in and learn to relax around others. I needed to be able to feel that I'm not in the process of losing the one person who changed my life for the better. And perhaps, that's the root of my recent snippiness - I do not respond well when I feel threatened with that idea - it also makes sense that this is why J's family/sister's words to me several months ago are STILL fucking with my brain. This is why I cannot get past what was said to me, even if it was said in desperation or anger. It cannot be unsaid and is possibly where all of this started.
Well, at least we recognize it - and I'm happy to say that we are working on us. I know no relationship is perfect and by all means, neither is ours. We are as good a couple as they come, but we've never had to really work at it, though. It's just always come so naturally to us both, and I think I need that reassurance that we aren't the only ones who hit the occasional bump in that road!
Now, back to the journal cover that I was to design. I found some 'phrases' in the pile of magazine clippings. Words. These are what I use to get through things. I think about them, I redefine them, I write them. Aside from some not-so-nice things, I've been called a wordsmith. And so this is what I decided to decorate my composition notebook with. Single words and phrases that right now, ring true for me.
"A window of opportunity has opened."
"Chocolate." (A reference to THIS blog - I could not let that go without some form of recognition as this is where I usually retreat when I have a lot of mind-clutter.)
"Your future is yet to be written."
There were a couple more - along with cut-out letters that I used to spell out my real first name across the top of the book. When my turn came, I explained that I'd taken a little bit of a different approach to my journal cover decorating - and discussed that I use words and phrases in order to quell whatever my current anxieties are. And each of those statements, at the moment, mean something to me.
And why did I put my (given) name?
Well - my name as well as my identity is another thing that I am struggling to define. I can tell anyone my name, but I honestly don't have a clue who I even am, being constantly torn between the person I really am and the person I present as, is exhausting!
You see, here, I am Capulet. You all know why I am here. You all know my story. You know my fears, the things that make me happy, the things that make me sad. Chances are, you feel the same way. I've been nothing but honest with everyone through my blogs, my posts, my private conversations. It helps that being here affords us all that unspoken understanding of each other - we're automatically able to validate one another because, one way or another, we all get it. We don't have to truly know someone to understand them when they write something that rings true with us, too. And so, I honestly feel more connected to myself when I am Capulet and less connected to the person that my given name represents - the person that people offline see. And partially, this is my fault, I have spent so much time shielding these offline connections from the things that aren't so easy to share or explain face-to-face. I feel like I am someone else. And that 'someone else' is what people usually see upon spending time with me. And if these people do not know or understand the reasons behind why I am the moody, withdrawn, shy, anxious, unapproachable person I appear to be (especially in social settings) then it's likely harder for them to make the extra effort it requires in order to get close to me. Additionally I can't expect them to keep trying if I'm going to constantly shut them down. This is yet another reason I feel that I need to work on opening up to more people, (once I've established them to be trustworthy) and allow them to understand me in entirety; allow them to see me, not only as Capulet, nor as the person they think I am. But somewhere in the middle where both 'identities' can merge. Only then will I truly begin to comfortably live my life as an evolved, transformed woman.
After the meeting, I was feeling a little bold and inquired about whether the Women's Center had any volunteer opportunities. I was told they do, however they require one full year of affiliation with the center before they consider taking on someone as a volunteer. And so I will continue to attend the group meetings and take them all for what they're worth - even though I may not in the moment be able to gain anything from them, they are thought-provoking and force me to be honest with myself.
I should mention that I am also feeling a little anxious about tomorrow's (yes, tomorrow's!) appointment with the VR intake counselor - I will be discussing with her the possibility of going back to school as a full-time student, and then continuing onto acquiring my bachelor's. I am trying to allow myself to feel excited and to ignore that voice within (the one that seems to always be lying and misleading me) that is telling me that my dreams are not possible; that a better version of ME is not possible. That I will have to settle for the minimum because I am aiming too high. I don't think that will be an acceptable answer, and I fear that if this is the one I am given, that it will emotionally derail me - again.
I've also made an appointment with the support group leader for next Friday - I feel satisfied with having shared this much tonight, but feel that if J can seek 'outside' help and a place to safely put all of her own 'excess' baggage, then I certainly can, too. I'm not looking for a permanent thing - just a safe place to vent to someone who is unbiased and may be able to offer me some suggestions on how to initiate some of these much-needed and long overdue changes.
I do feel a little bit better tonight. I had all day to myself - she again went to trivia night with her friends. And normally, you probably could see the smoke coming out of my ears while I silently fumed over being alone (again) but I think that tonight, I needed it, I truly needed the alone time to think and to process and to refocus. I also think that I need to continue to find a different focus for the times/days she chooses to go out - tonight, my aim was to find a way to adequately express what was going through my mind this past week and I have done that. Moving forward, I will just have to learn to occupy myself with different things and explore alternative ways of keeping busy when she's otherwise unavailable.
I just wish this newfound, unfamiliar quest of mine for more purpose in life wasn't so fucking scary! And that it came more naturally for me without my having to work so hard at it.
And with that, it is time to wrap up. I am emotionally drained (and ironically this will put me to sleep quicker than a dose of NyQuil) and have been for a while. I've dropped with exhaustion before 12:30am for the last few nights - tonight, I'm up a little bit longer because it was important to me to not interrupt the flow of thoughts. I've got that habitual tendency to 'drop' things if I'm too tired or reserve them for another time, but this simply could NOT wait.
In closing, I thank you all for continuing to listen to me, for not giving up on me, for getting to know me, and for supporting me. I know I am by no means perfect and I know deep down that I definitely do contribute to my own problems, but, shit...none of this is intentional - it's just what I know and was taught that was needed as primarily a means of self-protection. It truly does help to also know that the persona that I feel most connected to, truly has an army behind her. So for that, thank you. I truly appreciate you all.
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You know that feeling you get right before you vomit, you can feel it coming but you try your hardest to hold it back because you know how uncomfortable it is. Down deep you know you'll feel better once you've got it all out, but it's instinct to fight it. That's how my childhood was, but if i didn't fight it and I let it all out, I could really hurt people.I never asked anyone to help me, I never told anyone, because that would be weakness or so I was told.Our family had a ton of secrets but there were even more in our household, and I always felt like the secret keeper. Now looking back I know he let me in on all the secrets because he was testing me, to see how much I could retain without ever telling a soul. I was a raised manipulator and I was good at it. It was like being in a play but I had to play multiple roles. Before I knew it I had a new role for each person I interacted with. And it didn't take very long for me to just go into each role without thinking. But I messed up, I told someone one, someone who actually cared, someone who said " if you don't tell an adult, I will, you don't deserve to live like that". To this day I don't know if I actually thought they'd tell or if I finally had the strength to tell because someone finally said it wasn't right.But either way I knew I had to tell someone outside of my family. The month before I confided in this person and they said I needed to tell someone, I had told my mother but she did nothing. I know she knew for years what was going on but I felt the need to finally say it out loud and as bluntly as possible. I was standing in the kitchen by the front door shirt torn, my face still bloody and now bruised and swollen. Just waiting for her to come home from a long night shift. When she walked through the door she wasn't even shocked at my appearance. When she had left the night before she knew what would happen, he was mad and was leaving for out of town work again, she knew what was going to happen and yet she left me there, but not before saying "don't fight with him, just do as your told". After she set her bag down I said "your husband is raping me", she took a deep breath and asked as if nothing was wrong "why haven't you cleaned yourself up yet?". I said it again because she must've not heard me, but then she grabbed me by the shoulders and said "stop, stop lying". She didn't let me go to school for a week because people would ask to many questions, she spent that entire week asking me why did I have to make him so mad. That following weekend when he came home they talked and he admitted he was abusing me both sexually and physically. Her answer to this was to get our pastors involved, because what could help more then the church. I was so optimistic, I loved God and I thought this is what I've been waiting for, they'll fix my dad and we'll finally be an okay family, we can get past this. But little did I Know that I still wasn't free. They suggested that when he was home I shouldn't be present unless my mom was home, and since she worked night shift I should just go stay with friends. And that worked for about a week, but then he threatened to hurt my brothers, to hurt them like he hurt me. He knew I'd do anything to protect them so when he 'accidentally' forgot to drop me off at my friends house the following weekend and told my mom that I was fine staying home she just went with it. And just like that I was right back where I started two weeks prior. I spent the next week and half telling my mom we needed to leave and that he was hurting me again, but she just said that I was holding a grudge and that I needed to forgive him and move on. And so the following Monday I told my friend, and the boy I had been talking to. He told me I had to tell someone else or he would. And not four days later my dad was late picking me up for softball practice, so I went home with coach. We were sitting at her kitchen table when she asked "what's wrong, you seem like somethings on your mind" and just like that I let my guard down, I word vomited all over her. She was just trying to be nice and I changed her life forever. My words broke her heart and she was horrified, but she never questioned if I was telling the truth, and just like my own super hero she promised he'd never touch me again. I had finally found my voice, there was no turning back, and little did I know that saying it out loud to someone who could help wasn't the hardest part
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I'm so sick of hearing "why didn't they come forward sooner".
When I got out, my abuser pulled of a masterful piece of misdirection. He convinced my girlfriend dump me. He manipulated her into thinking I was terrifyingly evil so she wouldn't listen to a word I said. He made her afraid and suddenly alone. So she hung out with another of his victims. Maybe even dated that guy. Who knows. What I do know is that other guy was too far gone (brainwashed) to be able to protect her from Him.
After I got out, I found it so hard to talk. A cold choking silence would take over me if I dared think of talking about it. I knew that He had done something to me, to us. I tried to write it all down but couldn't get more than two sentences. The best I could manage were small statements about how dangerous He was; about what he might do. I tried talking to the police asking them to protect my (ex)girlfriend but couldn't give them anything they could action. I was terrified of what He might do to her. His lies were sticking in my own head so I actually started thinking I was evil. I became suicidal. I was suffering from depression, PTSD, with DDNOS or possibly DID. Daily and weekly breakdowns became normal.
And what did people think? All of what I was going through, everything I managed to say... Most dismissed it as a hormonal teenager who's GF had just left him, "just looking for someone to blame".
It makes me so angry to think about it now. I still blame myself for being unable to tell anyone, for being unable to find the words. I blame myself for not remembering what had happened. I blame myself for abandoning her. It took me over a decade to piece it all together and by the time I did, what good could I do? Who could I tell? There was even less for the police to go on than when it first happened. If He was going to hurt her then he did a long time ago.
If #MeToo has done one thing then it's given me an excuse to talk about what happened years later. It has told people that even though it happened a long time ago, talking about it is good.
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It's been quite some time since I've been on here or posted much. After I remembered everything, I felt like shit, was depressed, unmotivated and all I wanted was to move on from the trauma I experienced in my past. I am have been in therapy for this whole process. My husband and I where in the process of moving, I was dealing with the healing process from my trauma and finding a place to live. It felt like too much. So I made the decision to not focus on the trauma in therapy for quite some time. Mainly because I had thought ”I don't want to feel like this if I just ignore it ill feel better”. My thoughts were correct at first, I felt great. My husband and I found a place to live and got settled in. When I didn't have the move to focus on, I started thinking about my sexual assault again, going through the events in my head over and over again. I have been depressed for weeks. My therapist believes that since I left the work on the trauma unfinished, that I still need to process the trauma and finish what I started in the healing process.
I feel SO foolish, I would be feeling better already if I hadn't made the choice to stop talking about the trauma in therapy for so long. I'm not going to give up again. I'm going to do everything I can to feel better and move on. I hate that I made that decision to do everything I could to avoid thinking about it and to stop the healing process...
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Obviously I’m new to this whole blog thing. I posted my first entry under the description. Sigh.. Well thank you to anyone who read my novel. It was more for myself than anything. This is the first I’ve put into words the details of what happened to me. We’ll see what happens from here..
This week i looked up my abuser and found he erased me from my family tree, i was never born so I protected him for nothing, kept his abuse for secrets for nothing, fooled myself one day he would love me as a daughter not his property, i thought when i quit contact with him to stay sane, he would at least admit i existed but nope once and for all i get it, i was nothing to him but his sick plaything, i was never his daughter. I also foolishly believed if i was a good daughter to my abusive mom, the mom who brought me up to believe i was a mistake, that my huge reward would be, finally being embraced by my aunt , cousins, my stepdad, but nope all that effort i put into protecting my mom, nutureing her, getting through her terminal illness while i fought major depression disorder, raised a daughter, maintained a marriage was for nothing, i am more alone that i ever have been and feel abandoned by my family, then it dawns on me, all those dreams of being loved, respected, protected by my family was useless as i feel when i think of all the time i wasted trying to be a perfect daughter fpr them and it was all for nothing, so hurt and so enraged with myself, trying so hard not to be done, teleah
I am not sure which it is but my attempt at being open and honest is unsuccessful. I am definitely shutting out. Reaching out is just becoming too painful and isolating. It shouldnt be. People dont realize that words have power. They hurt whether we let on or not. They cut deeper than physical pain at times. And then there is the flat out dismissal of my feelings and thoughts. The dismissal of what I feel because it doesnt look like what they expect or want.
I dont think it is shutting down but it is what I want it to be. Shutting down symbolizes I no longer allow this crap to occupy constant space in my dailey thoughts. It exists but I put it back undrr lock and key. Yes, my feelings and unresolved guilt and shame exist but...they dont matter.
In writing this, it feels like I shouldnt say I am doing either. Announcing it feels attention seeking or not shutting out/down. Either way, attempting to reach out was a fail. Maybe another day I will feel less pessimistic about it.
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On the dance floor I’m spinning
Guys twirl me, in hopes they may be winning
Dance after dance they’re all the same
Acting like I’m a prize, the ultimate game
Stretching out their hand as invitation, asking if I want to play
No, I don’t want to, but I take their hand any way
Suddenly He grabs my hand, imagining his own success
Whispers in my ear, calling me his princess
Guys try for another dance, but he won’t let go of my hand
My stair begs for help, but none of them under stand
Spinning and spinning, every third spin , I see you
The only one who doesn’t notice me, but I need u to
Bright lights make the top of my dress sparkle its shaped like a heart
Lined with shiny silver, gliding his hand over it, he tells me it’s his favorite part
His hands tighten around my waist, making it hard to breath
I’ve targeted u out, I want u to save me, help me leave
Every ones staring, but no one notices his threatening glare
Women whisper around us, saying we’re the perfect pair
I can only breathe when he lets go to let me spin
Noise starts fading around me, the lights are growing dim
Desperately searching needing you or someone to save me
Because I’m trapped, caged, his slave I’ll always be
Spinning and spinning I don’t know how to get away
Screaming out, but no one hears what I have to say
Finally he finds something else, from the ball he does disappear
fear of him coming back, it lingers and haunts, I can’t see clear
I begged u and everyone to help, no one understood
‘How can such an honorable man, not be good?’
Realizing the truth, something I never knew
No one could have saved me, not him her or you
My only hope is to start now and Tell the truth from the beggining
Finally relief Overwhelms me, I’m still, and the room stops spinning
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I have never felt so attacked by the posts I see on social media about how this woman is a liar. I am scared for her. And this triggers fear for my own safety. I wrote to Trump about what happened to me. No response. But he will gladly meet with Kim Kardashian to get a drug dealer pardoned. Am I crazy? That is what echoes in my ears when I hear the hatred people are throwing at this poor woman. I commend her for making something of herself whilst living with this pain. I have given up so much of my life to this. I haven't lived a normal life in 6 years. And I feel more alone every day. Is anyone else affected by what's happening? Please share so I don't feel alone anymore.
I thought that I could escape this, escape being a victim of sexual assault and abuse, but it never feels like I can.
There are seminars about assault, they are required and important but every time I listen I feel trapped and diminished. These seminars paint assault and abuse as something that can be easy to diagnose, and all you need is good friends.
I can't even think, my mind goes dark and I slip into the spiral of my mind.
"Did my friends just think I deserve it?"
"Did I just want it"
"Why didn't I just say no?"
First off, no they don't, no you didn't you were 13, and lastly you did you screamed it but eventually, you stopped because it was easier than the consequences that followed.
But that logic doesn't exist once you are triggered all that goes out the window.
Am I being too sensitive? Is this normal? What am I supposed to do?
I was doing so well for so long until recently. I decided that I should get help for what happened to me and by realizing that I need help I guess it has made me think about what happened to me. Since I have joined this community, my nightmares have returned and I am finding more and more triggers that remind me of what happened on that day. I thought that by reaching out for help I would be able to move past what happened and I hoped that I would be able to live with it easier than I am right now.
I've been waking up the past couple of nights from nightmares. Every time my attacker is there but in each dream he is doing different things to me. Sometimes in the dreams he is sweet and caring but I am still on edge because I don't know what he might do and in my other dreams its like I am reliving everything that has happened. I don't know if I can keep going on like this. It's getting harder to get out of bed or to find the motivation I need to do my homework and other daily activities. I can't keep living like this and I don't want to live like this anymore.
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Hi... so I'm not even really sure where to start with this.
I have never opened up to anyone about this until recently and was told that I should share my story with other people who have gone through similar experiences regarding sexual abuse.
I never really even knew I was actually sexually abused until I started getting older and all the repressed memories kept popping into my mind and I could not escape it. It's taking me a while to accept this.
I was sexually abused when I was around 10-11 years old and now I am 26. I was sexually abused by someone who I thought was my friend, we were the same age. The person was a female and I am a female. She came on to me and we had sexual intercourse. At the time, I was too young to process what was going on. I could not speak up for myself because I did not even understand why that was happening. She was my friend, well I thought she was. I don't know if she was sexually abused when she was even younger that had caused her to do that, and I won't ever know because we are not friends anymore. Obviously that is a good thing. But, all I know is that I trusted her and then she did that to me. She sexually abused me, something I never thought I could actually say out loud or even think I was a victim to it. Growing up I had the memory of it and I never expressed it to anyone, so now it is going on almost 16 years since I've let this out. I have not even told my parents, but I told my therapist recently. I am going through a lot of painful emotions and feelings since I've let this secret out. It's been extremely hard to heal from this and I did not even realize all the negative things that stemmed from me being sexually abused. I have trust issues because I trusted her and she abused my trust. I have trust issues in my adult life now for something that happened in my childhood. I am getting older and I want to move on from my past to have peace of mind and a better life for myself, it's an everyday struggle but I am fighting to try and push through all of these negative memories and emotions from my past that has haunted me. I recently graduated with my psychology degree, and I know that I want to help people and eventually be a therapist or a child psychologist. I always knew that I wanted to help people and now it is even more clear to me why. Because I was sexually abused and I want to help other people work through these negative memories and come out even stronger because that is what I ultimately want for myself. But, I know that I still have a lot of work to do on my path of healing and if talking about it and letting other people know that it is possible to heal from being sexually abused as a child helps then I know it's something that will help me too.. It feels better to even write and express all of this.
I took a health assessment today as part of my new insurance plan. It rated my wellness in several areas and apparently, while I am doing a good job of maintaining a healthy weight and active lifestyle, I avoid tobacco and I stay up to date on vaccines, I am not healthy because I don't have strong social connections. It's funny because this is a theme I return to again and again in my mind; however well other things are going, however long it's been since I've had a panic attack or suicidal thought, however many social gatherings I attend, I always feel...unconnected. Now, that prefix might seem like a mistake - surely I mean disconnected not unconnected, right? But disconnected implies a former feeling of connection; that I was connected to something and somehow that connection ended. While it is logical for me to believe that I must have felt connected to people at some point, before all of the hurt and disappointment and protective wall building, it isn't something I can actually remember. I can't even remember or imagine what it feels like to be truly connected, to feel that sense of belonging or safety that humans require (or so I keep hearing). I have been trying so hard for so long to find it and sometimes it feels close, but always just out of reach. I am perpetually on the periphery. Like I'm in my own orbit but sometimes I'm able to slide along next to other people's even though I'm not really a part of it.
I'm a good friend; I'm reliable and compassionate and make people laugh. I work hard and usually get positive feedback from colleagues and supervisors. I even have a family, one who I see or talk to on a semi-regular basis. And yet, somehow, I don't feel central to any of those groups. I'm not the one my friends call in a low moment or ask to be their bridesmaid or feel comfortable just showing up at any time to hang out. I'm not an employee of the month and I don't get more than a perfunctory card for birthdays. Even my mom, who tries so hard to make me feel loved and accepted - it's like she has two circles; one that is me and one that is the rest of her life; her new husband, his children, her mom and brother, her friends, and although I know she wants me to be a part of that world and she is forever pulling me that way, I always end up bouncing back to my own solitary place. It has been my constant mission to change this. I have opened up to people about my past, I have asked for favors and offered my help and advice whenever I could, I have been slowly showing more of myself to the world and trying to back away from presenting a facade of whatever I thought a given person wanted to see, and I have done the therapy and the journaling and the self-reflection and yet...It isn't enough.
What else can I do? This health assessment puts it in such a straight-forward, black-and-white way; it is a risk-factor for an unhealthy life, just like eating trans-fats or sitting all day. That questionnaire, just like so many magazines and self-help books and TV gurus makes it seem like a simple problem with an obvious solution. So you don't have enough social connections? Go make some. Just like they're saying 'oh you don't get enough protein? Eat a hamburger!'. If it were that simple, don't you think I would have done it by now??? If it were as easy as going out and making connections, how lovely would that be? I have wracked my brain for years trying to figure out that missing piece, that one answer to this question of how to cultivate a sense of belonging, to have a group of people I can count on, to be connected to others...but it is not something I've been able to find. It's elusive and it hurts, it hurts so much to see that other people have it, to be so close to it, and to still not be able to claim it as my own. I don't know if that will ever change, if I'll look back in a year or five or twenty years and think 'ah yes, that was such a tough time, but now I have it and I see what I was missing.', or if I will die feeling this same way. Most days, I feel like it is worth the risk of the latter for a chance at the former. Most days.
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The wall and the mask that i made up…
Start to crumbling down..
It start to breaking into pieces…
And i'm afraid of it…
I'm no longer myself.. i already try the best…. But i know it hard… to be strong again…
I started to lose it..
Anxiety.. Bulimia... i can't afford it anymore..
Faking my smile.. faking my laugh.. faking everything…why?
Why do i need to do this.. why do i need to be someone that i'm not…
Why do i need to impress everyone..
They don't even care
I wake up 3 am everyday.. i'm crying a lot.. i do self harm.. but theres no one with me.. theres no one comfort me.. i know theres no one .. nobody will comfort me.. help me.. through all of this…. I know i'm all alone… i know it…
I took a deep breath.. close my eyes for a moment.. i need to let it go.. i must!
Just for a while.. i can't.. i know i can't
Tears slowly crawl down on my cheek..
I start to scream… i feel pain in my chest.. i feel a lot of burden that i need to let go.. but it didn't happen…
I can't take it anymore…
I grab cutter that lie on my desk..
I start to cut my wrist.. one cut.. two cut… three cut… blood start dripping on the floor…
Same goes with my tears…
I drop the cutter.. i start to feel weak..
My tears cant stop falling..
For a while.. i didn't feel pain... i don't feel anything
Its getting harder to breath… it hurt deep inside.. its torturing me.. but i can't break free.. so i continue to crying…
Why can't let me be who i am… why can't people accept me for who i am…
Please.. save me from this feeling… i just wanna be free…
I wanna chill out like before… i miss the old moment.. the moment that i still myself… moment i didn't become somebody else…
Why everything turn complicated… why…
I guess this is life.. i need to become somebody else to impress every single thing in this world…
Even it making me frustrated… but i guess this is how i still can survive.. by faking everything…
I wake up from my bed… throw away my comforter.. face myself in front of the mirror… even though my wrist hurt.. blood shattered everywhere… i need to continue live on..
I took a deep breath.. i smile…
Yes.. i need to smile.. but then i felt something cold on my cheek… i'm crying. I hate to shed a tear… i totally hate it..
And its the moment i know i no longer can't pretend…. Its getting harder to pretend.. to survive…
Suddenly i feel a vibration.. my phone ringing..
I see a notification come in..
I got message from someone…
Its from someone i know… i pick up my phone and start to read what written on the chat..
You know you are my everything.. before this i always alone... you're the one who support … help me whenever i down… i would do anything to always be with you… you know what.. you are my sunshine… you shine my day… when people shut me off.. you always there for me… "
"You are worthless than anything… don't hurt yourself… please don't…even no one in this world accept you for who you are... God still there for you.. i'm also always there for you… even its hard.. even its torturing you.. smile. Please smile.. your smile brighter my day.. i know you still there.. you didn't lose yourself.. you are here with us.. come back… we misses you so much….."
"But i know… you no longer here.. in this world.. with us… its been 3 month… we miss you a lot.. i.. i can't forgive myself.. for not be there while you hurting yourself... i know i'm not a good friend.. for always left you behind .. i'm sorry that i can't help you to break free from this cruel world… i'm so sorry…."
" i miss you a lot…. I wish we still together… to the end… i'm sorry…. "
My tears broken.. if only times can be rewind.. i wish i didn't do that stupid thing… i wish i was stronger than this..
I miss you guys too… a lot….
I'm sorry for doing all of this… i thought theres no one here for me anymore….
I'm sorry… i only can regretting all of this…
I look around my bedroom.. theres a photo on my cupboard… my photo… with a letter..
That written.. " we will always love you.. we will always miss you.. rest in peace… you are not loser.. you are stronger than anyone.. you are survivor…. may God always bless you dear.." - ♡♡
Don't suicide… ♡♡
Well, I did it. I broke up with Libra. It came out of a lot of thinking and a stable mind, thankfully. He drove out to visit, we had a normal night of dinner and our TV show (at home of course), and went to bed. When we woke up and realized there wasn't much to do (rainy weather, no close friends in the area), he became notably upset and aggravated. I asked him what was wrong and he just pushed it off as being bored and wasn't mad. I'll spare all the details, mostly because I've said it all enough to my friends and family, but overall it came out that he still isn't sure that he loves me. I made the executive decision that this was the last straw. If you take back that you love me and are confused about what you want from me, you don't get to be with me. You don't deserve my whole heart and the plan of my future if you don't know what you want with your own.
Oddly, I feel okay. I think it's a strange mix of reality not sinking in and being content with my action to love myself more than I love him. I do love him, very much. But that diminishes when he looks at me blankly and says that he just doesn't feel the same. The only good part to come from our break up conversation was the reality that he is sorry for leading me on and having his own confusion affect me for this long, and that he does feel sad that we're breaking up. I know that a part of him didn't want to, or else he would have broken up with me long ago, and I hope he settles his own mentality before trying to bring me or someone else into something again.
Everyone has their own mental battles, and ours were rather conflicting. His depressive episodes, periods of "silent treatment" as I called it, and intense independence did not mesh well with my anxiety, need for communication, and "hopeless romantic" expectations of living. If that makes sense at all. But really, these conflicts were only when we were both having bad days. On our good days, we fit perfect. And this is what we were both holding onto in the end. I hope we both get the chance to figure ourselves out and how we work with ours/eachother. I don't know what I would say if he changed and wanted to try again. I just don't know yet. It is too soon for me to really give that some thought.
I need to let this be a mature breakup for me. All my previous relationships felt immature and the breakups especially. Some I moved immediately into rebounding to someone else, some I became self-destructive, and now this one I was to be mature. Self-discovery. Self-reliant.
I'll be okay.
"Living just comes with a bit of heartache
Heartache comes with a bit of young faith
Faith stays young till your heart get broken
Hope grows up to become someday"
-Painkillers/Rainbow Kitten Surprise
Today marks six years. Six years of tensing up whenever someone touches me. Six years of searching for you every time I venture out of my house..searching for your face, searching for your voice, searching for your hands, or the smell on your clothes. There are times, more often than I’d like to admit, that my mind tricks me into seeing you and my body reacts. My feet turn to concrete blocks, my heart races, my head spins, my breathing slows, and I feel sick. Then there are the times that I really see you. This is no way to live, if you want to call it living anyway. The fear, isolation, anxiety attacks, flashbacks, nightmares, depression...I am not me anymore.
You see, before you I was in an abusive relationship and it took me two years to start rebuilding my life. I put myself in college and I made friends (lots of them!) and the professors loved me and raved about how far I would go. For the first time in my life I was happy and doing well. A boy came along and broke my heart and I went to you for support. You were my friend..I trusted you. I stopped talking to my friends (they were your friends too) and I graduated with honors but never used my degree. My life crumbled from underneath me.
I want so badly to ask you why. Why me? Why didn’t you stop? Did you plan to do it? Why did you do it?
Its been six years...but with this post, I’m ending the silence today.
Ms. Tipton is my old APUSH teacher. And has somehow managed to become one of my best friends. Now, I know that sounds bizarre and probably kind of silly, but it's true. From the start, she always knew when something was wrong with me. In February of 2017, my ex girlfriend of a year and half, had cheated on me and broken up with me. And this woman, who barely knew me at the time, was the only one who helped me.
Naturally, I wasn't being myself. No one else noticed or if they did, they didn't say anything. But when she saw me after school that day, she was the only one who asked me what was wrong. And when I explained it all to her, nearly crying in the process, she gave me the best advice and encouragement I had honestly ever received. Later that year, when I had other issues, she provided the same level of support, every time.
Anyone who has met her can genuinely say she is also the kindest and sweetest person on Earth and her constant optimistic attitude has been, at times, the only thing that keeps me smiling. Throughout my senior year, I began to help her with whatever she wanted. She took on A LOT of projects at the school, and always seemed so stressed about all of them. I wanted to help the best I could, and I still do, because I don't want to see her unhappy. I send her a meme everyday now, just in case she's had a rough day. Because everyone, especially her, deserves to smile at least once everyday.
She once told me I had a "kind nature" and she felt like she was taking advantage of me by asking me to help her out so much. But I never felt extorted or anything like that. I was just being myself. I like making other people happy. I do a lot of silly things to make other people smile. (Mr. Varela, my PreCal teacher, always seemed upset, too, so I left him math puns on sticky notes. I just like making other people smile. He saved all of them, and apparently showed them to other teachers. That actually brings tears to my eyes.)
On Halloween this past year, my family found out about what happened to me. Tipton didn't exactly know what had happened (yet) but was incredibly supportive. At the time, I felt like my entire world was unraveling in front of me, which sounds dramatic, but them knowing was, and still kind of is, one of my biggest fears. That night, I was more determined than ever to just end it. I didn't want to face them. But she forced me to promise her I would be at school the next day, and I could never break a promise to her. I don't know if she knows, but she's really the person that kept me alive that night.
She always respected my boundaries more than anyone else. She's always been there for me more than anyone else, even when I have the stupidest of issues. She often tells me I just "wormed my way into her heart" and I'm happy to have done so. I don't understand how it happened, fully. But I'm glad it did.
It was her birthday a few days ago and with me, it's always go big or go home with gifts. I'm broke as fuck, so I can't get extravagant gifts or anything like that. But I can give gifts that are thoughtful that will make a person cry. She told me a story once, that I won't repeat because it's personal, but I gave her gift related to it. And it made her cry. Which was my goal, honestly. Sounds mean, I know, but it wasn't necessarily malicious.
My mother was an awful mother. She abandoned our family for drugs and never looked back. She goes to jail every few months and is just a constant heart breaking let down. When I was younger, I clung to my mother like we were attached at the damn hip. My father was loud and always at work, he scared me. I just wanted to be with my mother. But she left me, and I didn't understand. As a child, I created a version of my mother in my head of what she would be if she were normal and still an actual mother. I've never told Tipton this, but she's exactly that person. She's the exact person I wish my mother had been. She's kind, loving, funny, supportive, understanding...just everything I wish I had in a mother.
I've always believed that we form our own families throughout our lives, through the people we meet and keep in our lives. And I consider her family-- which might insult my actual family but I don't give a fuck.
I've always had a very hard time properly expressing my emotions, but I just hope she understand how much I care about her.
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We are moving to a 2 bedroom apartment on the 1st and I am daring to have hope. I dont have any hope for the father of my child. He has proven that he doesnt want a better life, that I mean nothing to him. It doesnt matter anymore. What does matter is that when this new lease is up he will leave and i will have a 2 bedroom and he will pay child support whether he likes it or not. This next year I will live for me regardless of what he does. I will never get with an addict ever again. I will never be an addoct ever again. If hard things in life come I will find solutions and make myself happy. I will never lean on a crutch like that again. My son deserves worlds better. I pursue my education and I will get a job when the baby is 6 months old to be able to support us. I will live the life i see in my dreams, the life i yearn for. I am not worthless. I deserve to be treated right. I deserve to be happy. I deserve respect. I must take back control of my life. I cant believe ive allowed myself to be emotionally and mentally abused by him. At least there is no physical violence. But the other day in fear of him cheating on me and bringing me an STD i had sex with him. I had a flashback through the whole thing. I hated it. He makes me sick to look at now. I dont love him and i cant stand that im stuck here. He doesnt care that hes killing my soul. He wants his son here and if we break up he wont be in the same house. I cant believe how truly selfish he is. I am so hurt and depressed and angry. I am so full of hatred for him. I dont want to feel like this anymore. I dont want to be with him. I want him to stay in the one bedroom and me and the baby go to the two bedroom but that wont happen. At least i am on this lease and i will be forming good rental credit. I will endure whatever to be able to climb out of this hole i dug. My baby needs me. I feel frantic. I feel trapped. I feel suffocated and broken. No one will help me get away so i will fashion the opportunity myself. I refuse to let him kill my heart and soul. He wont win. He'll never change and i will never marry him. Yet out of the ashes i feel hope for once in a long time. Im sober and strong and my baby is healthy and beautiful. Im in school still and doing well. If i have nothing else i have hope. Thats enough for now...
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Back at my house I'm being triggered & thrown off in ways I don't even realize.
A certain blanket
I was feeling not in control. Helpless. My body was reacting to all this.
I took a hammer and destroyed his horn. I'm slowly retaking control. Got rid of the blanket self talk controlling & choosing my food intake.
The title pretty much sums up how I feel lately. My divorce is finalized, that feels like a weight off of my shoulders. I'm working at a job that I sort of can't stand but it pays the bills and will enable me to go to school next year. I haven't really had a chance to write out my feelings lately and I haven't really been able to pinpoint how I feel. I go from feeling really depressed or hopeless to not feeling anything at all and I think the past few days I've been feeling pretty numb but it's been punctuated by bouts of sadness and the urge to start sobbing in the middle of my shifts at work. So for my own sake I'm going to sum up what my situation is currently.
I'm working a job that I hate and makes me extremely anxious.
I have to apply for school in a few weeks but I'm afraid I won't get any financial aid or I'll chicken out at the last minute and not even apply.
I'm in love with someone who doesn't want to be with me because my divorce wasn't finalized and now that it is, he still doesn't want to be with me but he's my best friend and one of the only people I have to talk to so that puts me in a weird place emotionally.
I'm lonely and I miss having a friendship with a girl, every time I see girls laughing together or out doing things I get majorly nostalgic for times when I used to have close girl friends. I guess I'll eventually meet more people and form new friendships but it sort of stinks to always feel so isolated and like I don't have friends. Even when I got over to J's it isn't like going to spend time with a friend, it's more like going to see a boyfriend. I don't think we're capable of keeping things strictly platonic.
Do people actually read these? I'm sorry if you do, I'm so boring and these entries are just for myself to vent or just start typing whatever pops in to my head.
I know that good things are coming soon. They just can't come soon enough.
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Today, I decided to share this experience. During my childhood years, I was molested three times by three different boys. While growing up, my memories were repressed but now that I'm in my adult years all of these are starting to haunt me back. Only one person knows this because I fear that everything will be in chaos if my family knows about it since one of my molesters was my cousin. This is why I'm scared too because he might come after my sisters since he visits sometimes. I am so afraid for what might happen to them because I'm away from home for my studies. I do not have the guts to tell my parents about everything because I also fear that they might not be able to take it. At this point, I don't know what to do. I'm so trapped in my thoughts and fears about everything.
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It's gotten to the point where I'm so tired of people saying it will be okay and stay strong. I do appreciate the kind words but words can't heal. I always say i wish there was a way to change the past that has completely changed my outlook on things. It has had such an impact on my daily life. I wish there were words that could be said that could make the uneasy feelings disappear. All of these emotions all for simple night that could've been avoided. I do not put blame on myself but I do wish I did things differently. I wish the flashbacks of the night would end bt they won't. The worst part is, he probably never even thinks about the night.
Every time my mother says I need to change something about my behavior or how I do things I ask why. Lately, her comments have been that I walk too heavy. Every time I ask her why it matters. Her first response is always, "No man is gonna want a girl who pounds like that." Why as women are we expected to adjust ourselves for what men want? And why is the ultimate goal to get a man? I enjoy telling her every time that I am happy the way I am and I don't need a man to be happy.
But, the main point of this is why is society still teaching women they need a man to be happy? Why are girls still being taught things in a way that's centered around them catching a man? I fear for future generations even more if we are dependent on the other sex for happiness. I see it now with my friend who just got out of an emotionally abusive relationship, she's moved right onto another guy to make herself feel valued. I refuse to base my worth off the opinions of a guy. If I'm not a successful person because I don't have a man in my life, so be it. I won't change who I am just to get a guy. Ladies, we don't need to be in a relationship to be valuable. You are awesome just the way you are!
I transformed this summer. I attended a 200-hour yoga teacher training, and I found a new love of myself, a new strength in myself, a new willingness to be vulnerable and authentic, to speak my voice. It was incredible. Going to sleep each night after the training, I'd lay there and listen to my breath and just notice -- woah, I feel different. It's confidence. It's courage. Genuinely. No more mask.
I am slowly healing, and that is something wonderful I need to remember as I have these days when I become triggered again and feel the setback. Know that I am far enough in my journey that I can control my emotional reactions.
I was brave and shared my survivor story with one of my brothers, something I've been wanting to do for a long time. I felt strong. I felt relief at speaking my truth, at making my voice heard. It was an empowering feeling. Maybe I let my guard down too much.
There's one person who still has the ability to make me feel like a helpless child again -- my father.
We were getting along fine. I mean, I'm aware of my emotions and how I tend to slowly shut down around him. He has always had a habit of telling me things he knows about myself that aren't true of myself. Like he could know me better than me. Maybe that's true to a certain extent, or at least one perspective of many, but he says things in a way to make me feel like the way I see myself is wrong. There is nothing wrong with me. He treats every conversation as a debate/argument that he has to win. I treat it as constantly having to defend myself, and that is exhausting. So usually, at a certain point, I go silent. Just let it go. I know who I am and I'm beyond seeking external validation at this point. If people don't like me, awesome. I don't have room for negativity in this life anymore.
Two days later, my Dad's mood shifts a little. He's not easygoing. I wanted to drive, he doesn't let me (he's too old to be driving sometimes okay he's pushing 80). We get to a bakery and my mom and I start looking at all the stuff. I walk around a case, and he grabs my arm hard to pull me out of the way of a man: "Watch it, you're in his way." "Don't touch me," I spit back. There's confusion in the queue. "Go ahead," he says loudly to the group of women standing in line behind us, "they (my mom and I) don't know what they want yet." Belittling. Condescending. Embarrassing. Triggering.
I sit in the back seat, staring out the window and the tears set in. Dad is oblivious. Looking around, making comments about the town as he drives. It felt familiar, staring out the window. Oh yeah, this was always me growing up. Treated like a child always. Like a nuisance. Like I'm wrong. But this time I can't let it go and I let go and start crying. Something I never would have done as a kid since he would have called me a cry baby and asked me what's wrong, like really wrong. I was a burden to him. An annoyance. A hindrance. Something to be dealt with. But I let it out and my mom hands me a tissue.
I head straight upstairs to my childhood bedroom upon getting back. Sitting on the bed looking around the room, remembering this feeling all too well. What did I do back then when I didn't have the emotional toolkit I do now to calm down? I bottled emotions. I made them go away. I made myself dissociate so I wouldn't have to feel this pain of being unwanted to my father, unloved. My mom tries to comfort me, but she doesn't have the emotional toolkit yet either, since she's been suffering the same emotional abuse for years, too. But she tries, and that matters.
I don't like being around him. I don't like feeling unsafe. I don't like feeling like I can't be myself. I don't like feeling like I'm not free. Because I'm not. I have to be on guard around him always. Because his mood changes so drastically, and he has no empathy, he will cut me to pieces with his words if he is not feeling happy.
I hate that someone can still make me react in this way. He knows I have PTSD. He knows I was raped. He knows, and yet still watched Law & Order: SVU around me.
I live 8 hours away from that house I grew up in. The one with all the ghosts and demons. The dark secrets.
I'm home, safe in my own apartment. I can't go back there. It's haunted.