Yesterday I did not eat much, my beloved cat Hardy passed the night before after a long few days of struggling to breathe, he passed eight months after my other beloved cat Laurel passed. I have no safe place to land anymore which caused TC to come out, let me see her in her frilly pink dress with black dress shoes, I could see her sitting on my bed with me and she was bawling, I tried to comfort her but she just wept then i tried to fall asleep, lied there as she told me about her bad grandpa, the times he TW....put his hand over her mouth reeking of gasoline because i was'nt finished and he did not want my mom to know where i was or the times he made me pleasure him through his pocket, looking for a quarter is what he called it, then she told me deepest darkest fear and that was TW....that she knew he killed himself because he did'nt come visit and she did not make him happy anymore, she was convinced and told me she had heard her dad say it was her fault when her mom and dad were planning her bad grandpa's funeral, as soon as she shared this with me, i got the worse stomach pains and felt like i was going to get sick, so i sat in front of the toliet and rocked for over a half in hour, saying over and over, i am sorry, today there is a new deep sadness nestled in me, TC's sadness, Tomorrow we bury Hardy, I am scared TC will show up again and I hope tonight will not be another night with my little five year old TC, teleah
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recovering from csa and the struggle of accepting it and coping with the aftermath
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Yesterday was father's day, first year I chose not to call him or send him a card, so i tried to enjoy the freedom of not feeling obligated to honor him which went well until night thats when i turned into the good girl, the girl who always made everyone happy, first after going to flea market with family and tense ice cream, i came home. made dinner, exhausted, then instead of resting i washed his shirt to make him happy, then watched tv and then i suggested alone time, despite it being the most triggering day of the year and lead him upstairs, where like a good girl I seduced him, scratched his back , touched him ect and though parts were mutually pleasing, it hit me afterwards, the whole reason i seduced my husband is because that is how i ended fathers day up until i was twelve, pleasing my dad, making sure he was happy and i was his still. What really breaks my heart, shatters my soul what is left of it is I am still that good girl, I still want everyone to be happy and despite being married over twenty years, I am still his, i am still my dads good girl, I still hear, thats my girl, when my hubby TW.....climaxes and I know a huge part of me is, a part of my core, my sexuality is his, i was groomed to be a good girl, how to please him in sick way, affectionate ways, in every way and as long as i remember that, i am and always will be his good girl and i am not sure i can live with that cold hard truth of my life, teleah
About a month ago, I wrote a house list and everything got done, wrote a list for graduation just in case she graduated and she did, and now I feel done, I got everything I needed to get done so I can go, nothing unresolved, daughter happy, husband happy, house clean,I should be celebrating but the depression whispers, you can go now, they will be fine, you did all you could for them, you have nothing left, trying to not listen to this voice, turning the music up, but I still hear it, scared when soon the happy mask falls off, all anyone will see is the sad little girls inside me, all they will see is the broken me again, see me as not fixable as i feel right now, not sure when the mask will fall off and everyone will see the real brokenness in me, teleah
At ten, my dad had an affair with a coworker and I was the one who told her, because a little witch in class asked what an affair is, so i stupidly asked my mom and all hell broke loose and that night my dad threw my mom into a coffee table and for two days she forgot who I was so a few days later my dad moved out and I foolishly believed the violence was over, maybe I could finally be safe but then the fighting really began, my dad would come over and steal her stuff or break it as I hid in my room and waited for mom to come home to blow up at me for letting him in and threatened she would put me away for good if I let him again, so when he came over and he went in the garage I stood in front of the door, which he got open and he was carrying a pipe wrench from mom's dad and he was swinging it back and forth as he went in the hallway, I met him there and asked him to please go, then he said, it was his house, he could do what he wanted and I asked him again and without a word he dragged me to the bedroom, he slammed down the pipe wrench and told me again he owned everything including me, then he pushed me on the bed and within minutes he was raping me, ripping me, stealing my innocence and my soul in one violent act then he got up to go, he told me to wash the sheets unless I wanted mom to think I was wiping wrong again just like the retard I was, then he went into the bathroom and broke mom's favorite vase then left, When he left I cleaned the sheet as best as I could and picked up the glass, took a bath and got in my pajamas, sat on the couch frozen in shock, until my mom came home and got mad at me for making a mess in the tub, had missed some blood and she was furious I had wiped wrong again so I was sent to my room without supper and so she could call the institution that she told me later would not take me in because I was too retarded, I was ten, ten years old.
Since I first started this journey through my abuse, a question haunted me, until last weekend when after I was intimate with my husband, I was sitting on the bed fighting tears as I have done for a long time thinking of the question that never had an answer, how did he groom me, what did i get out of it, then i heard his voice, say that's my good girl and heard him moan and it hit me, finally the answer, he gave me pride he made me feel proud of pleasing him, being his good girl while my mom called me retard and pointed out i would never live up to my potential because i was a mistake from God, the way he got me to please him was to give me worth in a world where my mom did not even see me as worthwhile, that is how i saw it, how little me saw it, so I know now. now what ? My heart is broken, knowing little me had to do such vile things just to feel she had worth in her small world, teleah
Went back to therapy this Thursday, still in outpatient but had to see if i could get trauma therapy and found out I could, wish was good news maybe. Anyway most of the session was talking to TC, my youngest little, she is 3 or 4, she is so little, it hurts to look at her, she does not usually talk just cries but she talked this time,because I was willing to hear her or maybe she found her voice, I asked her what she needed from me and she said, she needed to be be believed, she needed to feel safe so i held her and stroked her hair and told her she no longer had to see her dad, i would protect her and she cried and said no he was her daddy and told me she did'nt trust me because i had hurt her a whole bunch of times, i told her i wouldnt do that anymore she just fell quiet as the therapy appointment ended and now i have to write my dad a goodbye letter and she keeps weeping, i can hear her like when she showed me TW.... her daddy teaching her to bring the leopard blanket and how to sneak her little hand under and please him as her mommy made dinner and her big brother played in the same room, I do not how to get her trust after hurting her through self harm through years, I want to tell her saying goodbye to her daddy is a good thing but she just sits and cries, i have no idea what to do now because all TC wants is her daddy.
TW..... Last Tuesday I had a doctor appointment and had an episode, i rocked in my chair and tried to not cry, I sat there just looking at the examining table, seeing little Theresa, me at age six and I am red down there and my dad is glaring at me and the doctor is telling me how to wipe and i am humiliated, we go home and dad tells my mom what the doctor said and she flies into a rage and makes me wipe in front of her and dad until i bleed, then makes me go to bed, the next morning she tells me if i want to be a retard i can go to an institution where people will crap their pants in front of me and play with themselves, then i went to school as if nothing happened. These images haunted me until my appointment when i told my t about the doctor appointment and was about to tell her about my memory when theresa told her about my self harm and she was tired of fighting the memories and felt broken, so my t went and got the director and soon his husband was driving me for an assessment and now i am in outpatient, feel like i am too much to heal, feel like no therapist is ever going to be prepared to treat me, feel like there is no hope of me to heal because i let theresa meet my t, teleah
Victim, was my moms favorite word for me, her greatest wish was for me to stop playing the victim in my life story, if i could just be a victor, i would drive, have a job, lose weight. get published if only i could see myself as a victor, she would be proud. Worthless was another favorite word for me, i was worthless because i never saw my potential. i was worthless because i did not drive, have a job, lose weight. Burden was another favorite word for me, my seizures were a burden to her, my clothes, my shoes, my soap, my braces, my schooling, all were a huge burden to her, These are the words i fight in mu head everyday and tonight they are booming after asking my stepdad for part of my inheritance, which he has offered me in the past but i am still fighting those words my mom used to describe me and tonight my biggest fear she was right.
Tenth Grade in high school was hell. I was Tw..... date raped in October, my crush got engaged while ,my mom got married and I never felt so alone in my fifteen years, I was overweight, scared and had sworn off boys after a painful breakup in my freshman year, I was alone while my mom and Jim went on a date, I looked in the bathroom and found my old seizure medication, not seeing things get better, I got a beer and went to my room, where my radio was on, and I was about to take the pills when the radio dj announced Wham's newest single "Everything She Wants", I was so excited I jumped up and the pills spilled everywhere and in that second, George Michael was the reason for not taking the pills, Nodak was saved because of his song. Nodak begin writing to him a journal of all her young relationship problems, her mothers emotional abuse, her date rape, her fuzzy memories of her past, the eternal love she felt for her crush, writing to him saved her life over and over until I got married yet Nodak was still part of me and George was still the reason to keep going, one more single, one more cd, one more concert, but now George is gone and Nodak is lost inside me, telling me there is no reason to keep going, her heart is broken and I have no idea how to comfort her, I normally embrace Nodak but now she as broken as the rest of me, not sure how to take care of her, now her George is gone.
In therapy we are working on parts of me, we started with the oldest that I actually like, sexy, funny, creative, meeting her was weird but ok, then last week my t faced me with TC, my youngest, she is 3 to 5, she carries the memories of grandpa, she keeps showing me glimpses of the hell she endured, mostly the times i was told to go sit with him and how i knew that meant to TW,,,,I knew how to pleasure a man at three, I was already taking care of my mom by keeping grandpa away from her so she was happy, TW.....I knew how to stroke him, i knew where to put my hand and how to make him happy at three, that is what TC went through,my heart breaks for her, then it hits me it happened to me, that leads my head and heart to mourn, mourn again, still mourn then the scary thought hits me, the only way the mourning ends is if I end, TC scares me and in order to heal I need to embrace her but embracing her hurts me, this is so confusing and I wish I could pretend I never met TC, pretend TC was never created through the trauma and hell she went through.
For the last four years, I have put her name into facebook. j , and I never find her and tonight, there she was, TW,,,,,the girl my father took pictures with at the river, the girl whose smile is etched in mu head, her laughter as she rode her bike behind me, singing Blondie songs, the girl who stood beside me in front of the log, where I was used of posing, then her joyous warm smile turned into shock and shame as he took pictures of her and me in our pantties, seeing her, was good because she is ok, she has kids, she has a husband and she looks so happy not broken like me for that i am relieved but still feel shaken, i thought i would find her and heal but no all that happened is I found her.,
Tomight I was hit by a horrible flashback, TW...... my dad whipping his belt on the bed, whack is all i hear now, this sound sent me into a crying jag and i texted hubby and he told me what i felt was normal, and that once i quit fighting the truth, it would get better, i texted back that would he be able to accept my truth that....TW My dad never loved me but lusted after me, that he intended to hurt me, that he gave me to his dad and his friends and he texted back. yes he could and i should accept it, not sure how i could do that, how do i accept he was a monster not a dad. he said i have to keep fighting, i am tired of this battle, tired of fighting ghosts, tired of this battle of the present and the past, tired of memories hitting me out of nowhere, so tired of this battle with my brain and my heart, want be done with this battle.
Had therapy today, it was intense, she is new to therapy so she is excited to have a strong client like me, I just smiled and said thanks and we moved on. We are going over the emotional abuse mostly but today the main topic was why my mother hated me so fiercely when i was little like when i was five to ten, and I realized it was because my dad paid more attention to me, took me out more, but here is the thing she would insist on us going out on dates once a week, fight my dad to take me out for dinner and a movie, so i am still baffled, but the thing that hurt the most, made sense but took my breathe away was her therory that my mom knew of the abuse, she just did not care, she was too busy taking care of herself, protecting herself to care he was grooming me to be his girlfriend, she did not care he was making my life hell, she did not care he was giving me my seizure meds with a cocktail at seven, she was not in denial, she just did not care and that is what hurts the most right now. I cared so much for her that i did not tell and she just did not care, i carried her husbands secret shame all my life and she just did not care, i dont even know how to begin to process that, tonight i hate myself for believing she ever cared enough to love and protect me from harm, teleah
My daughter starts senior year tomorrow, i want to celebrate but i am stuck in where i was at that age, My first day senior year i knew no one at my three story shopping mall size high school, i felt so lost, alone which i was used of after coming home from a week at my dads, a month ago. As i walked the hallways. i felt isolated but i felt that in my house with my mom, my stepdad and my new baby sister, so i was used of it, i thought getting lost to every class. Back home before my family invaded. i allowed myself the luxury to cry, to cry that a month when i had come back from my church trip to Germany I was stuck visiting my dad, in which during this trip, he took me out for lunch with a colleague of his, a man from out of town, and during this lunch i confidently spoke about politics and world events which i guess turned the man off because after lunch, the man left and my dad turned angrily to me, Had you not been so mouthy, he was interested, grabbed my arm harshly and lead me to the car, pushed me roughly in the car and snarled at me, Just because you are now a world traveler doesnt make you any less of a retard, keep your mouth shut from now on, and for the rest of that awful trip, i kept my mouth shut and went home silent, i barely spoke which my family thought was attitude when in reality my words had been taken away, stolen, stolen like my innocence that my dad ever protected me, that i was ever anything but property to him
TW this poem is about what i go through when the depression hits hard like these past weeks.........
My Dark Web
i keep trying to push them away, protect them from my toxic darkness, I dont want to infect anyone else with my toxic darkness, my dark despair, so i push them away before they they get entangled in my dark web,
I reason during the unreasonable hour of three in the morning, I should go before they get stuck in my hurt, in my soul muck, i should go before they wake up and need me again, but after a night of fighting my demons i awake in my dark web.
I awake the next day, even more determined to push them away, people who could be infected by this sickness, i turn off my phone, wont open my door, ignore their countless messages, reasoning i do not want to hurt anyone anymore.
Deep in this web, I sit the ones i have infected before, him the one who wanted to love me, save me from myself no longer sits next to me, next to me, the little girl i brought into this world unaware she would inherit my darkness, my hatred of self, she is the one who insists to stay in my dark web, feeling obligated for i am her mother and she still believes she can save me.
It takes hours, cups of dark deep coffee to climb out of my dark web, to be a loving wife, a strong mother but in seconds, a small gesture, a word, a song and im entangled in story my story of horror, with a heart full of frustarated sorrow, i know tomorrow i will not let anyone touch me, come near my dark web, i do not want to hurt anyone anymore.
Once again its June, graduation time, and once again i feel completely defeated, my neighbors daughter is graduating and i am happy for her but i cant say anything or go over there, o am stuck in the last time my dad raped me on the eve of my graduation, stuck in that hotel room, lying there trying to float away but knowing what he was doing to me, actually feeling my heart break because all i wanted was him to be proud of me, wanted to take him out for dinner, just dinner, but once again he hurt me, but that time i felt everything, i couldnt float away and i tried, every June I get stuck in this horrible place, one of the dates on my trigger calendar, one of the dates i try to forget but my heart remembers and my souls aches every year at this time, i am so sick of this, so sick living in this trigger calendar, so sick of not being over this already, when is this pain going to be over, teleah
I have not slept a whole night of sleep since Saturday night, the night I found out what a horrible mother i truly am.TW....... Last Saturday night my daughter threatened on snapchat to her friends, she was going to kill herself with an item she found in my belongings, this friend called the police who came to my house and we were escorted to the er in an ambulance to find out luckily she was fine and she was not serious, this was a week ago today and i still lie awake, guilt overwhelming me knowing she found it, she knows how low i have been and i know what a horrific burden it is to know that after what i went through with my mom, on top of that weight, i still can not forgive letting j or b get hurt as my friends, the fact i exposed them to my dad and they got hurt keeps me awake, the fact i could not protect them keeps me from sleeping, i hope posting this tonight will not be another night of guilt insomnia,, thanks for listening, teleah
Today is my birthday which for most people is good but for me i hate it and this is why, this why this is one of the most triggering days of the year. Every year i spend my day with my mom, she would tell me every year, the story about how i was born a blue baby and for three months i struggled for breathe and how she wanted to celebrate the miracle of me, and for that one day she tried to be the best mom, i got to pick my favorite food, go shopping, be spoiled but by bedtime, she could not fake it anymore and would lose it and scream God made a mistake saving me, how everyday i was in her life was torture, then i would just agree with her to not fuel her wrath and go to bed knowing i had another year of abuse ahead of me then my dad would come in to tuck me in and tell me he could not believe how lucky i was to be his for my first 11 years then he would abuse me , telling me how as i get bigger there were was more he wanted to show me, ok gotta stop there, sorry
Woke up this morning to an email from my pedophile father, she woke up to a voicemail reminding her to call him at lunch to chat, ouch. I lost my mother, i only belong to a dad who broke me and she belongs to a dad who reminds her to take her vitamins on text. I struggle fixing things around the house, wishing i could ask a dad how to fix things, he calls and sees if she needs help with anything at all. ouch this hurts, feels like a weight of envy has been laid on my chest it is not fair, she gets him as her dad and i wrestle with a monster under my bed almost every night. ouch this hurts to hear them on the phone planning the memorial while i listen, trying not to sob, i have never felt that comfortable with my dad, ever, I am going to bed with this brick of jealousy buried in my soul, feeling horrible. feeling envy at her good fortune of having a safe dad, a dad who will hold her as she cries in a month at my moms memorial while i cry alone, i wish i could turn my heart off and not feel this throbbing pain but i cant and ouch it hurts, teleah
I was fourteen, my dad had insisted we go on a road trip to my uncles to retrieve some antique guns, world war 2 rifles so we went to missouri, the backwoods and visited for a whole two days until my dad could not handle the heat or the bugs, so we left to go to kansas for the rest of our trip, i was happy to be going to the big city, happy to spend time with my dad for what i thought would be a few magical days, We got there and checked into the hotel where i swam for him and he took me out for dinner on top of the hotel, i was so excited then we went back to the hotel room where the abuse began again, just where it let off a year before, then the next day i woke up to him taking pictures of me, and he took some of me because i had matured, then i went into the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror and that moment i knew i was his girlfriend not his daughter for this trip and i became his girfriend, we walked hand in hand through stores, he opened doors for me, he took me to a movie and at night he raped me. at night he stold my soul, four long days later i went home to my mom who had burned all my childhood treasures because i betrayed her by not calling her on the trip, i went into my room and looked in the mirror and there i stood her daughter, her evil daughter, and i wondered what was worse being her hated daughter or his loving girlfriend?
After walking in the freezing cold, wearing a panda hat, i made it to therapy, cold but proud i made it there after last night, Last night things got super dark, i let my daughter sleep over on a school night so i could be alone, but honestly i lost my courage and i told my t that and i expected some help, maybe some rational thoughts to replace the irrational ones that are there since mom's passing last week, but instead we discussed why i didnt, which is my three cats, my daughter, my husband, then she changed the subject and i felt she did not hear me, hear the pain, or want to hear the pain, Walking out she said see ya soon, not telling me when so i am thinking of not going back, right now i need to be wanted to be seen, it might help me from feeling so alone since her passing, walking home i felt worse not better and even more alone, so not sure if i should go back, not sure of anything but therapy today was not good
Tonight, once again i visited the forest, the same forest i have been running through since 11, since the day i ran out of the forest into a pick up truck. Every few years, i find myself back in my mind in my dark heart, running towards my escape, that pick up truck that was supposed to end my abuse, end his terror over me but instead i am still here. The one thing i want to conquer in therapy is my desire to keep running towards that truck, the desire to end his now haunting terror in my life. What I struggle with is how to get out of the forest and find a safe escape when all i want to do on cold dark nights like this is keep running towards that truck.