All Activity
This stream auto-updates
- Today
-
I’m sorry Safe hugs if okay?
-
I get it. I have been struggling with being called a survivor, too. Here's hoping all the best for all of us to survive PTSD and all lingering issues that stem from the abuse.
-
The tassel is worth the hassle!
Capulet posted a blog entry in A Grain of Salt & A Pound of Chocolate
Hello friends. I know that I have been somewhat absent for a little while. My prescence here has declined greatly over the last couple of weeks and for a little while, I was only really responding to PMs and giving posts a quick-read, just to try and keep up. I sincerely hope that while I've been scarce, that everyone's doing as well as they can be doing. While I've been thinking of my friends here while keeping busy offline, the reason for my decreased activity is indeed a good one. There is now a high school graduate in the house! That colicky, fusspot of a little boy that I rocked to sleep every single night for the first several months of his life, has now officially completed the twelfth grade. I do admit to stealing the title of this entry from a shot-glass at the Christmas Tree Shop. But I believe it, completely! It amazes me how much WORK was involved getting him to this point, to get him across this particular milestone. How many times he'd gotten frustrated, how many times he's expressed his hatred toward school. There have been countless projects, book reports, science fairs, visits to the school nurse on the days he'd faked sick because he wanted to go home, (the elementary school nurse and I were on a first-name basis) parent-teacher conferences, two previous graduations (from elementary and junior high) trips, and HOMEWORK. The homework, is of course, in caps simply because I have six more years of homework woes to endure as the Daughter will be entering 7th grade at the end of the summer and through her, it will all continue...she and her brother are SO different, in personality, in movie, music and food tastes, but when it comes to homework, they're the same. BOTH of my children dread it and do the bare minimum - it's the only complaint I've gotten from both of their teachers whenever the time comes for me to visit their schools for parent night. "Your son/daughter is an absolute delight to have in class (I'd make sure at this point they were talking about the right kid) however, he/she is missing x amount of homeworks..." Then the wasband and I would have to remove any and all electronics for x amount of time - one day per homework missed was ideal...this way, while they MADE UP the missed assignment, there would be absolutely no distractions. But for my son, it paid off. My only hope is that he feels the same way - and that as he embarks upon a new journey (college), he sees that all of the hard work he's done up until the present time has been worth it. The big day was Thursday. On the way to the ceremony, I looked at him while stopped at a red light. He was dressed in his shirt and tie, had on his cap and gown, he looked so damn handsome! "Hey," I nudged him, "I want you to know that I'm so proud of you." "Thanks, Ma." I could tell he was trying not to show his nervousness. He fiddled with his tie, scratched underneath the cap, (those things are itchy) and chewed on his nails. "I also want to apologize in advance for the ugly cry you're probably going to see when you walk across that stage." Then there was that grin I love so much, followed by a light chuckle, "That's okay, Ma!" Surprisingly, the ugly cry happened AFTER the ceremony and tossing of the graduation caps (as well as the frantic relocation of aforementioned cap with attached tassel) when he descended the stairs leading from the school building...carrying in one hand his diploma and using the other to unzip the deep purple gown so he could free himself from the confines of the graduation robe he'd had to wear for the last three hours in a sweltering gymnasium. Twelve years of school (fourteen, if you count pre-school and Kindergarten) finished in the blink of an eye! That brought on the tears and I couldn't hide my emotions long enough. I got a look of horror from the Daughter, who I'm sure, pretended she didn't know me for a full sixty seconds, the usual narrow-eyed wince from Constipa-Face (I expected no less from someone who has not a single sensitive bone in his body) and the "there she goes!" from someone else, possibly Mrs. Constipa-Face. The Son, though, gave me a hug. I kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, "wait til your next and final graduation...if you think I'm bad now, I'll be a hot mess, THEN!!" Lucky for us all, I have another four years. Now I've got to get around the fact that he'll graduate college before his sister even finishes High School... And then, to the Daughter, I said, "You just wait, too...when YOU graduate, I'll be crying even HARDER, and I'll make sure there are honking noises when I blow my nose...JUST for you, my darling...and even better, still - you're the spitting image of your Mama, so you won't be able to hide..." She groaned. Serves her right for making fun of her mother, doesn't it? I'm sure I'll be ugly-crying AGAIN when his senior picture proofs arrive. He took them two days before graduation and I'm expecting those to arrive in about two to three weeks. Then, two days after the graduation, I had forty people show up to my house (would have been at least six to seven more people, but I had a few last-minute cancellations) and although I had Oompa staying here for a few days to help out, I certainly got in my exercise...just within my own home. I lost count of how many times I went up and down the stairs, how many trips I made from the kitchen sliders/upper deck to the newly-set concrete slab one story below. By the time the night was over on Saturday, I was ready to collapse in exhaustion; my feet were KILLING me and I had some unpleasant chafing in an even more uncomfortable place. This morning, I felt a ton better, both physically and mentally - Oompa left early this morning (but not before expressing any and everything that disappointed her at one point or another...while Constipa-Face is good for nothing less than a daily dose of disapproval, my mother takes first place in every single woe-is-me contest that there ever was - even the imaginary ones) and will be gone until the Daughter's birthday, which is in two weeks. I spent the day with my father, who leaves tomorrow morning and will return for the next party, which is going to be held at the wasband's house. And since the wasband has effectively demonstrated that it's NORMAL to show up an hour after the party has started, I may demonstrate my own learning abilities by doing the same thing. (I say 'MAY' only because my Daughter will likely suffer the consequences of my being purposely tardy; and that's not fair to her at ALL.) Who am I kidding? I'll be there on time if not a little bit early - at least my kids will know I'm reliable while their father is not. I will be spending the next two weeks attempting to get back that feeling of normalcy and calm - the amount of stress that I've had on my plate was at an all-time high and the lowering of my blood pressure is a vital, necessary thing. I'll be posting another update shortly - for now, another good nights' sleep is in order as the recuperation process has begun. Sending lots of hugs and love to you all - I've missed everyone!!! - Capulet -
I came on today to ask, "is this day really hard for anyone else?" and 2 seconds on, I can see it is. I'm so sorry for anyone who experiences this day as a reminder of what our fathers/father figures were not, of pain caused and hearts broken or betrayed. I feel it, too, and we all deserved better.
- Yesterday
-
yes, teleah i would not call myself a survivor until I feel I'm ready to try a new identity w/o hurting myself. I also felt invalidated when people said i'm a survivor. I would fight them. Even though they thought they were being supportive. showering is hard for me too
-
nothing you did or said to me is ok, nothing ive endured is ok, nothing i continue to go through is ok, none of it will ever be ok, how you treat me society is not ok, and i am nothing you say i am. it's not ok . it will never be ok. some day it will be ok when im out of this place known as hell. i choose the terms, and it is not ok. will never be ok. simply put i am done giving any of this energy anymore it's simply not ok. it will never be anything but hell. hell you chose to give.
-
Hello I'm starting to feel comfortable here, I'm learning a lot about the pain I've held onto for so long by myself. And that we will, I wish you best in your career journey
-
Thank you for the welcome
-
I'm at the top of a hill, taking a break. Breathless. Exhausted. I've only been riding a few days. And it has become both the best and worst part of my life. The hill is long and steep and, and the intersecting road that lies at the end is incredibly busy. Cars whirling by, horns blaring at one another, drivers shouting harsh words, and children sitting clueless in the back seats. All of these things slowly become a complete blur. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I push the bike forward and lift my feet from the peddles. I'm on auto pilot. The bike starts plowing forward. The chain clicks as I shift gears, lowering the resistance. I lift my hands off the handle bars; but they still hover just above. I can feel the wind flowing through my hair and cooling my burning face. I'm smiling the most genuine smile to grace my face in years as if joy itself were a demon and for the first time decided to possess my pathetic body. I can hear the traffic getting closer. I can feel the hill coming to an end. I'm don't want to slow down. I want to slam into traffic. I want cars to smother me. I want the damage to be so bad my funeral has to be a closed casket. And I want my bike to only be recognize by a few small, hardly distinguishable pieces-- noticed only by a few remaining pieces of the purple glimmer from the frame and black, glossy metal that captures the handle bars. For the first time in almost 7 years, nothing is troubling me. I don't feel stressed or exhausted. I don't feel anxious and alone. I feel free. I feel at peace. It made me realize just how badly I want this all to end-- even if it is in the "worst" way possible. Even if I have to leave everyone in the dust. I want it. I want it more than anything else. I've always known that I wanted this to end. I've always known I didn't want to have to live with this for 70 years. I didn't want to live a "full" life. Because that entailed living with this for an entire lifetime. The faster the bike gets the better I feel. More excited. More free. I felt like I was taking my first breaths after being suffocated for years. Or like I was walking free for the first time after years of being anchored by heavy chains. It felt incredible. Suddenly, my hands slam down onto the handle bars and desperately grab at the brakes. The tires squeal against the pavement and the back tire jumps up a bit. I open my eyes-- only inches away from the fast moving traffic. Now, all of the horns and angry voices are directed towards me and clueless, confused child's eyes land directly on me. I looks down, trying to avoid the harsh gazes of those I've inconvenienced. I'm ashamed. I slowly put my feet back to the peddles, and grudgingly make my way home. I should have done it. I should have completely let go and let the beautiful moment of liberty be my last. I don't exactly know what came over me. But I do know that I will ride again tomorrow.
- Last week
-
Welcome Michelle to AS.
-
Hi fearless welcome to AS. Proud of you for standing and speaking out things some of us can't even imagine doing.
-
Welcome to AS.
-
Hi Katina, welcome back.
-
Today has been a long rough day all together I feel like if it wasn’t one thing it’s another!!! I had counseling today and I decided I was gonna write a letter to my abuser and send it off... I hate the unknown of not knowing if he’s gonna open it or the unknown is what drives me even crazier. I’m the type that constantly has to be in control and when I’m not I get anxious and stressed out and depressed and I don’t know how to handle it!! I hate feeling this way!!! Now I’m stuck have stupid Father’s Day dinner with all the in laws and every time we have dinner I end up at the end by myself on my phone (like now) playing games or just keeping myself occupied... it makes me feel so alone and unwanted but this is what I married into I love him to much to let this mess up our marriage. Dot get me wrong he try’s to talk to me a little bit but I get so depressed I just don’t want to talk to anyone!!! I hate it I hate today I hate everything I just feel like cutting crying and sleeping!!
-
“If trying harder doesn't work, try softer.” - Lily Tomlin
-
"Nothing worth having comes easy"
-
“Nothing is impossible, the word itself says 'I'm possible'!” -Audrey Hepburn (my fave ) ”Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.“ -Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. “Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love.” -Francis of Assisi ”No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.” -Aesop ”The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.” -Socrates ”Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.” -Confucius
-
Welcome to AS, well done on the amazing work you are doing and hope you feel heard and supported when you need it.
-
Everyone calls me a survivor which pisses me off; i survived the horrific abuse, yayy me, now i am trying to survive the flashbacks, body memories, and not sleeping. Trying to survive being a whole wife, a wife who can be intimate with her husband without her fathers ghost voice in her ear, whispering i will always be his good girl, that i am going to be a great wife to someone some day and how lucky he has such a loving daughter. I know in the past i survived the rapes, the photo sessions, grandpa, but now i need to survive bathing myself without images of him masturbating while looking at me, survive trying on bathing suits that remind of him in the dressing room with me. leering at me as i try on suits, when i survive through a night without a thought being done, a thought i need to punish myself for not being who i can be, a better wife, mother, friend, then you can call me survivor, teleah
-
Hi and welcome, Jessica! Hope you feel comfortable here. By the way, I have the same career goal. One day we will be great counselors
-
So I hurt some people inadvertently.
then I said sorry. but that didn't take the guilt away.
I was like "i hate myself"
It's the guilt
I guess the way out is to forgive myself. but it's so hard.
-
Im sitting up the night before my first therapy appt. (again), can't sleep so I'm reading articles from the day. I come across this https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/2018/06/13/sarah-mcbride-gay-survivors-helped-launch-me-too-but-rates-lgbt-abuse-largely-overlooked/692094002/ and i felt it touched home for me. now i know i shouldn't be reading this stuff, which i didn't in a way. it was more the headline spoke to me of my situation. it wasn't long after i came out in college that my r*** happened. the people in my circle knew and were cool with it, though i will say this sorority i thought about joining was homophobic so i passed. nevertheless, for the most part i was accepted. the guy who did what he did asked me that night if it was true that i was gay then proceed to i guess prove if it was true or not. even as my previous therapist told me that is what probably happened, i still couldn't believe it, nor accept it. but seeing this headline set off a light bulb in my head. sometimes things need to be heard from more than one source before the mind can accept the truth.
-
And then the dreaded car shopping started. Thought the last time I did this was rough now I have to have someone else test drive everything for me... Alwell getting a new car seems pretty awesome even though I'm sad mine is gone.
I'm not feeling so good...
if ok?
.