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Found 16 results

  1. DeadPool 2 and the Awkward Sight

    So... Friday night, my boyfriend and I went to the movie theater for the 9pm showing of Deadpool 2. The theater is in our town, which made it a convenient location. We went in to our theater, and as we were looking for the seats, I saw my former best friend's brother. M. He was also a former best friend... As we walked by their aisle and towards the back, I gripped the back of my boyfriend's shirt. We got into an aisle and took our seats, and my boyfriend turned around and looked at me. "What's the matter?" I could only stare at the back of his head. I just felt overwhelmingly hurt and angry. "Babe?" I finally told him who it was that I was staring at. "That friend... who's boyfriend assaulted me... that's her brother right there. He was also a best friend." My boyfriend comforted me and asked if I wanted to leave. I said 'No.' I enjoyed the movie and eventually ignored his existence. As the movie let out, I stayed in my seat until he left the theater. When we walked outside, I had my boyfriend walk me to my car. Luckily, he was parked on the other side of the lot. I drove off, seeing him talking to a girl, next to his vehicle. I texted a mutual friend, who used to be best friends with all of us. His name is K. I told him who I saw, and he asked if M said anything to me. I replied no. I remember how M, K and I would go out to bars together, drink and talk and have a great time... those were the good ol' days... until I became best friend's with M's sister. Now that whole family deserted me and chose my attacker's side. June is upon us, and then July. July is the month I find out if I go to trial or not.
  2. Pointless

    Everything I do is pointless. I can hear sirens screaming from the streets outside. Whirling past my house-back and forth. All night. Every night. Most nights I can't help but wish they were for me. Not because anything awful was done to me-- God knows I don't want that again. But because I finally did something awful to myself. That for once I did something that wasn't. I could do a million things. And I would never change. I could be the polar opposite of what I am now and I would still hate myself. I just can't help it. And to work to fix it just feels irrelevant. Inconsequential. My existence, my life, and everything I do within it is nothing more than some sick joke. My father found out this past year that I was raped. And I was afraid of having to talk about it but relieved because I thought that I would finally get help or justice or something out of this. Nothing happened. He didn't do anything. Didn't even talk to me about it. I told teachers. I reached out. They didn't do anything. They were there for me, unlike my family, which was nice. But still didn't get me any more help. They tried but got distracted with other, more important, tasks and stopped. My friend found out. My best friend. He doesn't even talk to me anymore. He hates me. He avoids me because I'm such a fucking burden on his life. All he did was give me a hug and try to convert me to his religion. Imagine that-- you find out your friend was used as a fleshlight at age 11 and all you do is push your religion on them. None of it helped. It was all just pointless. I don't want to do this anymore. I can't keep pushing for things to get better only to get pushed back even farther again. Only for things to get worse. What's wrong with me? Why can't things get better? People tell you all the time that time heals all wounds. They tell you things will get better. But this summer it will be 7 years and nothing has changed. So what's the fucking point? -Lane.
  3. Fantasy

    I've always imagined what my life would be like if I were never raped. I made a list, once. I wrote down every single thing I wish I was, that I knew be if that never happened. And then I wrote down everything I was because of it. It was a long list. I felt disgusted with myself and who I have become. I thought of the people in my life who are happy and optimistic. I thought about how envious I was of their ability to see the good in people and the good in life. I looked in the mirror and just felt disgusted with myself. I was disgusted with who I had become. I'm so pessimistic and negative. Unhappy and spiteful. Sometimes I'm foolish enough to believe that happiness is within my reach. I'm silly enough to think that someday I'll be balanced and normal. That I'll sleep at night and live without anxiety. I'll wake up without being depressed. I'll be normal. But anxiety is as much a part of my life as eating. Depression is as natural to me as breathing. I wake up everyday wishing I had died in my sleep. I go to bed every night regretting that I had managed to live through the day. Life isn't something enjoyable. It's a chore. I get up everyday and I have to force myself out of bed. Force myself out of the house. Drag myself through school. Pull myself to the end of the day. And then I repeat. But if I had never been raped I wouldn't be this way. I just know it. I know that I would be happy to get up. I would be excited to live everyday. I would go through everyday with a sense of bewilderment and excitement. Rather than dreading tomorrow I would be optimistic and look to the future. I would believe in myself instead of living with this sense of shame. Instead of feeling disgusted with myself. Instead of hating what I do. Instead of constantly expecting failure. Instead of hiding in a crowd. I would stand out. I would love myself. I would anticipate success. I wouldn't be so un fucking happy. But that's just an unachievable fantasy. I'm going to live the rest of my life this way. And that's just the way that it is. -Lane.
  4. Reconciliation

    Sometimes, I still feel like that child. That scared shitless kid hiding in a closet, hoping that all of this will end. Waiting for the yelling to stop and for the threat to go away. Hoping that this won't happen again. That I'll be okay and that I can just go about my life normally like I did before all of this began. Deep down, I'm still that 11 year old girl who feels the hope depleting from their spirit. Who feels the light drain from their life. She's still there. When most people look at me, they see a growing woman. Someone who's "going places" in life. And when I tell them I'm more destined to kill myself or end up a failure, they look at me like I'm a joke. Like I'm joking. Like what I'm saying is something to be laughed at. Like that's just "my sense of humor." I've spent a lot of time these past few years working to stop hating myself. I haven't done the best job. Some days I feel like I've made and others I want to throw myself off a building. But I've tried endlessly to reconcile what I feel with who I am now. People will always tell you that you need to learn to love yourself. In order to love the rest of the world, in order to live a positive life...you have to love yourself. Or at least like yourself. What they don't tell you is you have to love every part of yourself. What I've done all these years is repress my 11 year old self. I didn't love her. I pushed her back into that closet and let her live in fear. I've let those horrible moments be her entire existence. That's the only life she's known so fear is the only thing I know everyday of my life. Anxiety. Sleepless nights. This endless cycle. I need to unlock that closet. And let her out. Reconcile what she feels with the rest of myself. I hate her. I hate that scared, weak child. I blame her. For not being stronger or louder or faster. I blame her for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. In my mind, for years, she's been what ruined my life. That's not true. And I need to realize and reconcile the truth with who she is now. With who I am now. I'm someone who survived something awful. And I didn't fall into the woodwork. I didn't give up. I didn't become another at risk teen who couldn't make it. I didn't become another rape victim who kills herself-- though I have tried and sometimes consider it. I didn't become just another statistic for some report. I'm so much more than that. Every one of us is so much more than that. My life would just be another news story. Another thing that people forget about. Typical. Forgettable. But if I keep fighting I have the potential to change my life. To change the lives of others. To make an impact. People will see me for who I am rather than what I was. For what happened to me. I'm more than that one moment in life...though it often does define much of my character. I'm a survivor. And whoever you are, most likely if you're reading this, so are you. I know things are hard. I know just how fucking painful all of this is-- even years later. It's hard. It's always going to be there. It's never going to be easy. But you have to love every part of yourself. You have to reconcile your emotions. Settle this inner turmoil. No matter what you have to do. I'm still trying. Still working. Don't let this give you the impression that I'm okay. That I'm healed. I'm still working on it. Still trying. Everyday. And if you need someone to talk to...if you need help...shoot me a message. I'm always here. For anyone who needs it. Even if I can't give the best advice or give any answers. I know that sometimes all you need is for someone to listen. -Lane.
  5. Support

    For many years, I fought my battles alone. I barricaded myself with the idea that I did need anyone else to get what I was going through. In my mind, every other person was just an intruder. Almost as if letting someone else in was like opening my doors wide open to some kind of attack. I felt like I would have been more vulnerable than Poland during WWII. Germany would invade, and I would be left defenseless. However, every country needs allies and every person-- a friend. Although I technically still had people in my life, it wasn't much of a support system. Mostly because I didn't allow them to support me. I felt that they simply wouldn't understand or that they would have no idea what I was talking about. Or, worst of all, that they wouldn't believe me. That I would be seen as some kind of liar simply trying to garner some kind of undeserved sympathy. What I had to learn, and what I feel many of us have to learn, is that people can't help or understand if you never even give them the chance. I understand better than anyone that it can feel like nobody cares or that nobody will listen. But, trust me, they will. Whether you seek help from people in your day-to-day life or you find it online, in a place like this, you just have to find somebody. Keeping it all inside. Bottling it all up. Repressing it. Waiting for it to go away. That will never be the solution. You can't just outrun this. You have to face it and you have to fight it. Because no matter how fast you try to run or how hard you try to ignore--it will always be there. And as you get faster so will it. And as you repress it it will just become harder to ignore. The pain you and I feel-- it will grow like a cancer. And like cancer the only way to beat it, naturally, is to fight it. Fights are not won alone. Wars cannot be won without assistance. Every country still needs and ally and every person still needs a friend. Talk to someone. Opening up can be hard. Some people, like myself, are like locked doors that even they cannot find the key to. But even where there is not a key there is a locksmith. Where there is not a locksmith there are tools. No matter how hard it or how long it takes...we all have to open up. We all need support. -Lane.
  6. Days Go By

    The days go by. Slowly. One by one. Life travels sometimes at what feels like a snail's pace. Everyday is just another trial of what I can really get through. Or another test of whether or not I can make it. Some days, I wake up and I won't to put a bullet in my head. Getting up feels impossible. Survival feels improbable. I have a hard time seeing any reason to be alive anymore. I feel hopeless. Worthless. Like a shell of a human being. I'm not who I used to be. I'm nothing like who I used to be. I used to be happy and full of life. Now, though, I'm scared and constantly wanting to disappear. There are these brief moments, however, when I feel okay. When I feel like the days will go by and I will one day be normal and adjusted. There will be a time where the nights go by without fear or nightmares. A time when I'm healthy and healed and what happened was just a memory rather than a defining part of my entire character. I just know, though, that that simply is not realistic. I will never get there. Some days, I can only see my future as painful and fearful. A time where the days will continue to go by slowly. Each day feeling like a lifetime. I had a dream once, where I was 40 years old and still the same. I was still scared and jumpy. In my dream, I was just as lonely as I am now. Just as isolated. I lived alone. I was destined, at that point to die alone. There are brief moments, though, where I can see potential. Potential for life to be new and different. Where I can be something more. Where I'll fall in love and get married. Have a family and pets. A house with one of those picket fences. I have the teaching job I always wanted. I work everyday and I'm happy. I'm okay. I don't cry at night. I don't get scared in the dark. I don't feel alone in the days. I'm still young-- I technically have time. I just know that that reality is too idealistic for myself. I know that can't be me. I know that I'm destined to forever be confined to my own prison of fear. It's torturous. No one understands me. No one understands why I'm so afraid. Why I'm so alone and purposefully isolated. I can't tell if it's better that way or not. Once people profess to understand you, they make assumptions and they make judgements. They make suggestions and intrude on your life. They tell you what helped them assuming you're the same. Or they force things on you. They tell you that it's your fault you're like this. That you need to move on and to get over it. They don't realize that you've been trying for trying to do just that for years. Get over it. Now that's the real dream. To be "over it." But, again, I don't think that's a reality that I'm going to be able to achieve. The days will continue to just go by. One by one. Day by day.
  7. Anxiety Shakes

    Today I had to call my insurance company to sort out some claims they denied. They denied them because they didn't have the information about my last insurance policy to verify that it ended. There's some paperwork going out to get them that info, and then the claims should be approved. It was OK as phone calls go - mostly just answering questions as asked. But I've always struggled with phone calls, and by the time I hung up I was ice cold, shaking, nauseated, and breaking out in cold sweats. I couldn't sit still for hours after. Maybe next week this'll be sorted out and I can call and make an appointment with a psychiatrist. The nightmares have been getting worse. The flashbacks were really intense and near constant there for a bit; they've eased up a little now but I'm still getting them daily. And spending the rest of my time deathly tired and with my brain off in space. I hope they'll do something to help. I've never really had a doctor believe me before. Today was the first day in weeks that I had any energy at all, and that was because of how badly this phone call set off my anxiety. One day last week I was laying in my kitchen floor with all the lights off when my dad got home from work, because cooking 2 steaks and some rice took all my energy but I wanted to be close enough to know if anything boiled over or whatever, while I was waiting on him. Even getting out of bed to go downstairs and watch TV is a big deal lately. I can't keep living like this, unable to do anything for myself. Something has to give soon.
  8. When I fall apart

    I had a meltdown a couple of weeks ago. The day had started out ok I thought. Well, except for the fact that I was getting over a bad migraine from the night before and wasn't feeling so good. I've had someone describe it as a "migraine hangover". I've never gotten drunk before, so not sure how it compares to that kind of hangover, but I know what I experience isn't pleasant. Anyway, back to my story. I was at college, which I am really enjoying, and was attending a workshop on test anxiety. I usually do ok when taking a test, but I do struggle with anxiety and thought it would be good to attend. It was a very small group with only 4 students attending, all females. The instructor was an older woman and seemed friendly. After the initial introduction to what we'd be learning, she handed out papers for us to fill out. The top half of the page we were to write down something negative that we would tend to tell ourselves whenever we'd make a mistake in everyday life. Then we were to write down three positive things we should say instead. I struggled some, but eventually came up with something. She then had us each read aloud what we'd written. Then we went on the rest of the page where we were to do the same exercise, only this time it was to be about when making a mistake in an academic setting: in class or taking a test, etc. I sat there and couldn't come up with anything and started to panic. My mind went blank and no matter how hard I tried, I could not come up with anything. My heart was starting to race and I could fell the anxiety rising quickly. The instructor kept trying to work with me to get me to write down something. Before I knew it, I was starting to cry. I was so frustrated. It was such a simple thing and I felt stupid and pathetic for having such a difficult time. I finally wrote something down and managed to calm down and made it through the rest of the workshop. I even did well on the short math test that she had us take to put into practice some of the things we had learned. I left feeling rather discouraged, afraid that I would have more of these kind of episodes in my regular class. I headed to the restroom, planning to go back to my favorite spot to spend some time studying. While in the stall, I started thinking again of what had just happened and then I really fell apart. I was crying so hard and was so upset that I figured I'd better go see the counselor, but wasn't sure if I could make it over to her office. Just the week or so before I had started meeting with a counselor there at the college, dealing with a couple of issues and establishing a relationship so that if I found myself in a situation where I needed help I could see someone that I knew. Somehow I pulled myself together enough to be able to leave the restroom and made my way over to the counseling center. But when I stood at the receptionist's desk and started to say that I needed to see the counselor, I lost it again and couldn't speak from crying so hard. The receptionist was an angel and figured out what I needed and then offered to let me wait in a private room with the door closed until the counselor could see me. I didn't have to sit in there long before my counselor came and took me to her office. After what felt like a long time, my sobbing slowed down enough that I was able to talk and tell her what had happened. After talking with her for a while I was calmed down enough to leave and go on about my day, though I was totally drained and felt fragile. I saw my regular counselor a few days later and told her what all had happened. She said that the instructor had not handled the situation well and the fact that I was just coming off of the migraine didn't help. But what was encouraging the most was that she said that I had handled it in a much healthier way than I would have even a few months ago. She said that it was good that I was able to let those emotions out instead of just trying to cram them back in and not deal with them. Also, the fact that I was able to take immediate steps to get the help I needed was a sign of growth. She felt confident that I probably wouldn't have issues like that during my classes or even during a test, but rather it was a one-time situation with multiple factors causing it, with the migraine being a major one. I did find out later that I wasn't the only one that started crying during the workshop. It happened to someone else the next day. Seems they need to change how they present this particular workshop. It was a relief to know that I wasn't the only one! The whole thing really shook me up, so it was reassuring to hear the opinion of my counselor that I seem to be in a much healthier place that I had been. At the time, it felt like I was having a major setback. I know that there may be another time when I will fall apart, but I don't need to be afraid of it. I know that I have people to help me and that I will get through it.
  9. DISCLAIMER: I do go into a little bit of detail about my intimacy with my ex boyfriend. It was always sweet, loving, non abusive, and consensual, but still, just want to give a warning! Hello everyone! So in case anyone needs to read a juicy excerpt of young adult relationship drama, look no further than this post right here! Hmm, but in all seriousness, I was and still am super emotional about my problems with my relationship. And I was just having anxious thoughts, not pertaining to the relationship, but to this anxiety that I am getting so tired of!! I thought, hmm what if what is causing the anxiety is something physically wrong in my brain, and I have to get an operation?! My second thought was girrrl, go get yourself an fMRI stat! But then, I was like, welllll, you did suffer sexual violence as a child, maybe it was only one time, but it definitely changed and altered a lot of your perceptions. Although, because nothing is impossible, the chance that there is something physically wrong with your brain is still there, but most likely, you are suffering from anxiety due to defining your worth and strength based on being molested. Which, I hypothesize, will make anyone feel, at least bad about themselves. But anyone else with anxiety have crazy thoughts like this? I am only having it now because I feel like I have been making a lot of progress but it has been exhausting for my mind. Maybe this is my mind retaliating, making me feel more anxious. That's not nice mind! ANYWAYS, so here's the juice on my confusing, annoying, relationship: I began to have a relationship with a guy two years ago, we actually met up on tinder, and no I was not a usual user of tinder, but I was with a friend who recommended it to me just to be silly since we had nothing to do that night, so I thought hey, why not. So i actually strike up a nice conversation with this guy, who just moved to where I live in the U.S. from a country in South America. I do not want to name said country just for privacy reasons (I know I am a little paranoid), but lets just say this country is suffering political and economic turmoil, and he moved to the U.S. to start a better life. WELL, so we met up and hit it off super well. We decided to meet up again and go to the beach. It was nice, but in the back of my head, I felt the numbness that I always feel about myself. I was happy to be with a new person who I got along with, I mean I wasn't necessarily attracted to him in a romantic way, but I was just letting things happen. So when we get back to mine we actually kissed and he slept over (we only kissed). Now, here is where I got a little upset with myself because I remember telling myself after my ex boyfriend and I broke up that I would not move so suddenly with the next guy, I would give it time, and try to feel myself out first: do I really want to hook up this guy because that is all i want, or do I want to hold off on that so I can actually build trust toward him, and possibly develop a loving, trusting, relationship? Well, I guess I went with the previous option, because a couple days later, we hung out again, but this time, we did more than kiss. I let him go down on me, but I don't know why I did that. It was definitely consensual, and it was a really lovely experience, but then he asked me to return the favor and I immediately felt disgusted and bad about myself. I have a really bad perception of giving oral sex to a man, so it just ruined my night. However, he saw how upset I was, and sweetly took me in his arms and told me to relax, that he did not care at all, and he was just happy we could enjoy an intimate moment together. It did not make me feel better. I felt so angry with myself. Why could I not accept the fact that it was okay that I did not want to reciprocate? Like, I was not trying to be selfish, I just knew it would make me feel worthless, because that is how I perceive it, and still do (that's a whole different story though). But yeah, he was totally cool with it, I still felt super bad that I was allowing any intimacy to happen between us at all though. I knew that that's not how I needed to start off my next relationship, because intimacy has always been a negative thing in my mind, ever since I was molested. So, for me, I did not start the relationship with a good mentality. I was always weary of him, and I always felt scared that there could be a side of him he is hiding, a perverted, overly sexual side. That is like my biggest fear in a relationship, to discover that I have been with a man who has the same traits (at least in my head they are kinda the same) as the man who took advantage of me. It sucks because looking back on it, and hearing what my friends and family have told me, this man who I apathetically treated as my boyfriend, adored and loved me so much. And I never let myself feel that love A couple months into the relationship we took the intimacy to the next level, and I pushed myself because I was conflicted. My mind was judging me harshly and critiquing me for not wanting to be selfish, and wanting to give more, it was making me feel like I was worthless for enjoying that aspect of intimacy with my boyfriend. Because of that, I sometimes felt hatred toward him, and always toward myself. I never felt that feeling of security and trust that one must feel in order to have a healthy, vital relationship. Let's just say this is Part 1 of my relationship drama. I have endured enough drama today already with it, so I think I need a little break. Enjoy your day/evening! And even through all this 'drama', I am not trying to keep myself bummed out! I am training my mind to stop dwelling on what I can not change/what needs to be accepted. love, pauline
  10. Just A Girl

    To believe that everyone cares and to find out that they really don't care is the worst way to feel. It's the worst feeling in the world. And you sit at home contemplating how your life even got to be a mess. You sit at your glass table by your laptop, attempting to spill your heart out - Although, this blog posting may only get one read or two. Reason why, because I'm that invisible girl that everyone knows me for. I'm that girl that can be easily passed by on the streets and everyone would assume she's okay when she's not. I'm that girl that has been through an incredible amount of pain and regret, yet nobody cares, or does not want to care. I'm that girl that has been banned from all support groups especially when that was the only help I had for myself. I'm that girl that can't quit assert herself and lets other take advantage of me. I'm that girl that will be used again and again and again - Nobody understands the hurt they have caused - Because it's a never ending cycle and to be completely honest is too hard. So we result to our mean ways - To be cruel. I'm that girl that you can manipulate and lie about just so you can please yourself and others. I'm that girl that has been sexually assaulted three times by individuals half my age. One time, by a sixty year old man. And as he lay on top of me, the only thought in my mind was this: "Why did I leave home?" If I hadn't of left my Mom's place, I wouldn't be in this mess. I wouldn't be struggling through addictions nor would I have burned all these bridges with different organizations that now hate my guts - And I hate them too. I'm that girl that you can mock and mock and mock and nobody would stand and do or say anything. Just for the fun of it. I'm like a doll. You can easily manipulate and torture me in whatever way possible. Because it's easier that way. Because this is the way our society is. I'm that girl that endlessly cries in hope that someone hears. However, we're in the middle of nowhere with trees and bushes and nobody can hear. Even if I scream, nobody can hear. The closest sign of civilization is about three hours away walking distance, up at a local convenience store. But whose going to care? That's right - Nobody. I'm also that girl that does not deserve any help whats so ever. I deserve to wallow in my tears and die because that's all I'm good at; this is my destiny. Sometimes I wonder if I'm cursed or something from all the hurt I've done to others in the past and even today. Sometimes I wonder if I deserve all of these horrible things happening to me. Often, I believe this may be the case. As much as I don't want to believe it, I know it's true. I'm cursed and known to be invisible by everyone. I can't wait until the next guy abuses me... AGAIN. ~
  11. *TW* Moods this week

    So starting this month I've been on one dose of Wellbutrin right when I wake up and two doses four hours apart of Adderall, each per day. I've noticed I get really anxious and depressed if I am alone after my second dose wears off. Some nights almost suicidal. Two weeks ago over the weekend meds wore off and I got so anxious and hopeless that I self harmed for the first time in years. The next morning I had to have someone talk me out of committing suicide (as in, I was seriously considering it but I worded it to them that I was just triggered and tempted to self harm) and walk me through some grounding techniques. Then the next day in the evening I was feeling ignored by some friends and didn't wanna walk home alone, so I kept trying to hint that I couldn't walk home without someone to stop me from thinking some REALLY BAD thoughts when crossing over the bridge to my house. They were able to talk to me and calm me down (even when I wanted the two of them to tell me how much they hated me and wanted me to go away permanently). My mood has been all over the place this last week. At least the last two days have been good. I got one exam grade back Monday that I failed, two more exams on Tuesday that I failed. Wednesday morning I just did not want to see or be seen by anyone. I went to class anyway and got back the exam itself, but was too self conscious to ask for help from ANY of my classmates. I was feeling ignored again by the same friends and had to leave to go to my car and cry. But then once the friend that I am seeing casually messaged me and walked with me around campus, I felt better. They (singular) are still hung up over their ex (the other friend) so I understand them being in their own little world and not paying attention to me. I expressed to them my concerns and we were able to compromise. Their ex is also my roommate, so it's really hard to say if I am jealous of my roommate for having someone who loves her so strongly or if I'm jealous over my casual partner because I'm catching feelings for them. My weekend is looking up. I didn't sleep much last night but I am still feeling the (platonic) love and affection from last night, which is enough for me. I have a lot of projects to do, but I actually feel confident I can do them compared to the weekend from two weeks ago. I hate being so dependant on my friends for love and affection, but I've been alone for such a long period of my life that I need constant reminders from my friends they appreciate me. I've always struggled with the fear my friends secretly hate me and are just tolerating my existence, but not when I am around my casual partner or some of my other friends. My fears have been assuaged more and more over the last month the more I talk about my feelings of paranoia, and people have been inviting me out more it seems. So that's nice. It's hard to say what effects from the meds have been helped, worsened, or have stayed the same. Like, they say "alert your doctor if you have suicidal thoughts." But I have always had them, and my PTSD and focus are so much better on these meds. It only gets that bad if I hyperfocus on my anxiety and feelings of worthlessness, which I have successfully avoided this week through friends and therapy.
  12. What is love?

    I have really enjoyed some of the blogs out there! How long should a blog entry be anyway? How do you write an excellent one? What does everyone want to read? I guess I'll just write until I find a style I enjoy. I've never really been into blogs, but now it's like I can't get enough! It's like reading some one's journal entries! It's incredibly personal, but in many ways totally relate-able. Well, I got caught in the YouTube loop today - but first, BF and I are thinking about moving to Maine in the future, so I was doing research on that (Mostly on the winters there because he really is a summer boy), as well as which other states would be a good fit for us. Well, I was also curious about what state would be the best fit for me. This is important because if I don't know what I want I have the potential for being unhappy where we move. Maybe it's because I have a Malamute, but apparently I'm a good fit for Alaska! haha! I personally would love to live in Alaska, but I think my man would just die! He'd do it for me, but I'm not gonna make him do that! -ANYWAY- I watched a YouTube video by Linda Barsi on what it's like living there (Alaska), but I also watched another video about her journey to anti-depressants which I found very helpful....and emotional. In that same video she referenced Ana Akana (?) who also had lots to say on depression and I watched HOURS of her videos....literally hours. Usually I get stuck watching other things like the vlog brother's sci show or the slow-mo guys but I was practically glued to the screen because everything she was saying about HER depression resonated with ME. Well, it just so happens she's also in a TV show called single by 30, which I HAD to check out (thus is the YouTube loop). So, one thing led to another and Om-goodness that show is adorable! It may be a chick show but it makes me think a lot of BF and I. It's two people in their 30's who had made a pact in high school that they would get married (as backup) if they were still single when 30 yrs old. We didn't make that promise, but he has always been my back up; meaning he's always been there for me and I him. We just know each other so well and I love it so much! If ever anything went terribly wrong or was worth celebrating he was - and is - the 1st one I run to. Speaking of which. There has been some tension in our relationship, but I blame my end of things..... 1- I've let my emotions drive a lot of the time 2- Most of my traumatic history happened while in a relationship setting, so I'm weird about a lot of things 3- I've been putting him more in the boyfriend box than the best friend box - which is bad because our foundation lies in us being friends very first, and my brain doesn't have nice things to say or ways to think about boyfriends. We have so much chemistry and personal investment in one another that I don't need to overthink it or get lost in my head about it. I just need to be how we always have been. I shot him a text today saying that I loved him and that I am so glad he's my best friend. I asked him if he'd wanna hang out tonight after he's off work, and to be honest that felt a lot better than saying we should have date night. I feel like that might be how I need to do that for a while. Dating seems fake and short lived. I wanna go back to what makes us so amazing. I'm not friend zoning him, I just feel more relaxed and connected when I tune in on that level instead. No pressure, just us, and I can express my love and be with him in a way that isn't connected to my exes. It's weird having him in this area of my life. In some ways it complicates things because I've kept the titles of best friend and boyfriend in different categories. In other ways it's refreshing, and a healthy challenge to look at things differently. Still, boyfriend has a negative connotation to me, so having some one positive in that role is hard to process. Does that make sense? haha I treat him differently as boyfriend and that's not working well. SO we can go back to best friend, flirty, supportive, lovers and I'm gonna marry him some day. I can't wait! I love how we work together! AH! I just love connecting with him every day. I don't even care if it's him playing his games on his phone and I read a book while leaning on him with small talk, watching futurama and eating an oven pizza and laughing together, playing hearthstone and BS-ing all night, recalling memories or playing with the fur child in the living room. I want to give him everything - anything he wants. He has good desires and he deserves it as far as I'm concerned! I love it, I love it, I love HIM! Yes He is my lover, soul mate, companion, confidante, future husband, and many other things, but our foundation really comes from how awesome we are as friends BECAUSE we have always there for one another and we enjoy one another's company more than anyone else. I absolutely LOVE that security. I can count on him no matter what! I think my favorite though is how much he also depends on me for support. I love being there for him. I feel valuable, helpful, and important. He got really personal with me the other night - Big drama went on with some people from his past and after we worked things out and helping him process, he told me I was the only real friend he ever had. He may know other people and game hard online, but it's nothing in comparison to what we have. You have to understand, every single life crisis we've had as individuals, we involved the other one in because we're like magnets. It was easier to deal with problems having him there. It was so nice having a different perspective from some one I trusted who could tell it to me straight in a kind way that was in my interest. Over all these years there were other people that we dated, and we were flirty ourselves, haha but it's never felt so good as it has now: actually teaming up with him like this. It's like we finally reached our destination. I don't have to re learn another person to this extent, I just have to keep exploring him and continue strengthening us. I don't have to "put myself out there" with my set of fears, around people I don't even know, not knowing if they can even begin to understand where I'm coming from, or if they'll treat me better than my previous relations. (On top of that - build confidence in them.) His statement really touched me deeply. I am so silly for ever worrying if I was a priority, because his track record is proof. At the very LEAST he will be there when I need him - he always has been, so long as he knows something is going on. I'm so glad I haven't shut him out or let my fears overtake me. As always, only I am holding me back - so it's time to be my own hero and do the scary things like open up, fight my irrational thinking, do what's good for me and save myself so I can enjoy moments like these. No one can help me if I don't let them. It's all up to me. I am my own hero, and if I just step out of my own way nothing can stop me.
  13. Blog pilot: Conquer

    I don't know the first thing about writing a blog. All I know is I survived. There is more of me broken than functional - but something small, somewhere inside me persists that that will not always be the case. So here I am, writing about it. (For all intents and purposes, and I still wan't nothing to do with them, my abuser will be called "X") I was with someone, who didn't care. I was with SEVERAL someones who didn't care, at least about me. However, this one in particular had brought me lower than I have ever been. We met under incredibly ordinary circumstances, nowhere I would consider special, and he was so handsome, confident, driven and direct. He knew what he wanted in life. He was charming and exotic, and I was definitely interested. He approached me, we exchanged numbers and I stepped on the path that many of you readers unfortunately have traveled. I like to think it was because I was young, or maybe that I was naive that I didn't see all the red flags. Down the road though I genuinely believed it was my fault that everything went down as it did because I wasn't strong enough and felt like I couldn't say no - even when I did. He used me however he pleased - regardless of if I said "no". He'd just go for it; wherever he wanted, however he wanted, and on his terms. Most of the time I'd go along with it because it was easier, less hassle and would be over with sooner. I felt obliged - I was with him. I remember searching for help and seeing articles of people staying in crazy relationships - but when you're with someone long enough, certain things become the norm, and you adapt and become numb. That's what I did. How could I leave the one I loved? The one I'd given up everything for? I was so invested, I left everything for him and his family. I spent countless hours helping his family run/build a business for free (which is still successful), writing their business plan, legalities, taking his siblings to school, getting things for the business, taking care of the animals, helping his mom with things around the house, working at a new job one of his brothers had finagled for me because he liked the lady who was later my boss(so I felt indebted to X's oldest brother). You name it. I had obligations, they depended on me and I began to live with them because I didn't want to let them down, and I wanted to matter so badly (This I chalk up to my home life as well as how X treated me). Also, I felt obligated. How could I say no? I was scared to say no. I fought endlessly with my mother about my living situation and defended him because I believed that I loved him, that he was really worth it, loved me and would treat me better when I deserved it. He still doesn't know everything that happened to me. Really, I don't think anybody does. Not even my therapist. I refused to admit that I was raped when coming out of the hospital because I didn't want to see X or deal with him or any of my other aggressors again and if I caused them real trouble they'd come after me. I refused to see his dark side! I countered it with good qualities or at least mentally altered his qualities into good ones just so I could get by. I tried everything I could to make us work because a committed relationship is something you've gotta work at right? I knew I was so helpful to these people, and that was good for me but I also knew I was incredibly disposable at the same time. I couldn't just LEAVE, could I? Well, X wasn't my first assailant and I hadn't had any REAL lessons in creating boundaries or learning to say no at this point in life. I was the perfect prey and I hated myself because I didn't know what I was doing wrong or what it was that I couldn't see. I was the pretty, caged canary forced to sing at his leisure...either that or he was the prowling cat looking to eat its favorite parts one piece at a time. He'd force himself on me, occasionally promising "just one more time" - swearing that it would be the last - but it never stopped and it only got worse. All the way until the only way I thought I could end it would be dying. Yes. Dying. "Dying? Isn't that extreme? Couldn't you just leave?" No. No, because in my mind there was no way out. I tried to leave, but he was so good at the mind games. He'd have me crawling back saying sorry, feeling guilty that I had left and grateful that I had returned, often turning to extremes to get me to come back. When things would get so bad he'd make grand gestures to show he'd "changed" and every damn time I'd believe him. There was no way that all of this was happening and he didn't see it as wrong. Surely he would change, wouldn't he? For me? For love? Spoiler alert: It got worse. He wasn't just sexually abusive and emotionally - physical abuse came swiftly after discussing marriage. You have to understand that THIS was my world of relationships. I didn't really SEE how horrendous this was because I didn't know any better, and I was numb. Whatever better there was out there just wasn't for me or didn't exist. I still grieve that I wasn't loved the way I deserved. For many a partner I was mistreated, abused, and expected to be fine. It was a never ending roller coaster of feeling strong and then weak on a loop from standing up after being broken. The day I decided to die, I had moved out, but come back to say sorry because I didn't tell him when I was leaving. I told him I was leaving him, but I didn't say when or how or where. I thought he was going to kill me. He glared saying "how could you do this to me, I loved you" while standing in the bathroom doorway because he came back while I loaded everything into my mother's truck. Do understand how messed up I was that I felt like I needed to go back to say how SORRY I was for leaving HIM??? I stayed the night, and he said he wouldn't take me back. If HE of all people who cared the least and yet the most about me didn't want me back - no one would. I officially lost my value and that morning I didn't go to work, I hid a large kitchen knife in my waistband and told everyone there (his brothers were living with us at the time for free and I was the only source of income because he refused to get another job after leaving his other one) I was going to shower. Blood can't clot if it's still wet. I closed the broken bathroom door, and went to work. The first few cuts were almost nice because the pain was better than the emptiness I felt and I felt alive, but my body shortly decided to numb the area and I was able to go deeper and farther running my arms and the backs of my ankles under water to prevent the clotting. One of our dogs pushed open the door because I was crying, I pushed them out and got blood on his face. X saw this and screamed at me "What did I tell you??? WHAT did I tell you?!" He told me that if I was gonna go die I should do it outside by the parking spot of our duplex. So, I proceeded to the door to go do so and he slammed the door in my face to prevent me from going out and hit me so hard across the face. The force that he hit me with registered, but I was light headed and numb from blood loss and filled with adrenaline and anger - so I didn't feel it and I hit him back - which I had never done, at least like this. I had lost so much blood in my arms that my hands were in fists and curling back to my body downwards, so hitting him was more like swinging a club or dead arm, and I couldn't feel it, but I know it was hard - and he hit back, even harder. We went at it for a moment as he continued to say that all he cared about was how much the blood on the carpet was gonna cost him, how stupid I was, how all this was gonna make him look, what he was supposed to tell people about what happened, etc. One of his brothers came to wrap me up and I wouldn't let him, I just kept screaming that I wanted to die. I had no value, I had no self worth, and the people that had ever claimed to love me did unspeakable things to me. I was nothing. I passed out from blood loss, his brother took me to the hospital because X wanted to shower and get spiffed up before going to the hospital. How do I know this? He said so "YOU go take her to the hospital. I need to go take a shower first." I just wanted to die. I gave everything I had and I had no will to live. I hated him. I hated that I loved him. I hated that I loved him and he didn't give a _____ about me. I did everything for him and his family, and he couldn't have cared less. Maybe he could have? He could have not come at all. He could have just locked the door behind me while I died outside, but as far as I'm concerned I was nothing to him and it was his appearance he was trying to save. It was never about ME, it was always about HIM. I had small moments of consciousness like being carried to the emergency room by his one good brother Q, being put in the wheelchair, getting my 20+ staples, seeing X & Q standing in the hallway, X looking and smelling like he was going to a formal event.... X never visited or called me in recovery/rehab, and his reasons for why were lies. I called him to see if he was coming, and he always said he would, but never did and had the cleverest of excuses which were validated as lies by S. I went to therapy and rehab and never admitted to being repeatedly raped, or abused. I didn't want to get him in trouble, nor did I want to get involved with the police, court, or with any of the other miserable people who had done similar things to me. I knew that If I caused problems, especially legal problems which would compromise their business and a dozen other things, I knew that they'd come after me. I blocked his number and cut as many ties as I could conceive and one day he called me from a number I didn't recognize. He wanted me back. He was making a grand gesture again for change that we could be happy and promising all the things I wanted to hear. However, enough was enough, and I said no. I said no and when he persisted I reinforced my no, with REASONS! I wasn't helpless anymore. I was done, I was out, and in my own little way I had won. in rehab and therapy I didn't want to confess or share my abusive truths because I wanted to escape the pain, block it out, pretend it never happened, and I couldn't do that if I ever saw them again, especially a court hearing or someone coming after me because X was in jail etc. Many of my exes were incredibly physical while others were strictly verbal and emotional and I didn't have a clue on how to get better. I just went into rehab as a depressed teenager who had a lousy home life, low self esteem, particularly bad relationship and break up, self harmed, and opted for suicide. My brain did a miraculously terribly thing which was block out all my traumatic events. Miraculous because there were times after my safety plan was made and I was released from the hospital's rehab facility that I was normal. I didn't have that darkness haunting or plaguing me. However, it created abrupt triggers when my brain made connections to real life and my barricaded memories, like it dug under the wall and leaked it out. Because of it, I get the worst PTSD episodes and I am back in the moments where I am not safe. I'm starting to master not suppressing, and learning not to be overwhelmed, but let's be real here, it still happens more than I'd like to admit. This caused me problems in my marriage which is now over - which is an entirely different can of worms as he was very mentally controlling and abusive - thank goodness and am now in the arms of the sweetest, most gentle man who is my best friend, know no bounds of building me up, making sure I know I'm his top priority, understands why I may react in strange ways, knows my pain and why I am the way I am - and I could never be more grateful for the love, and compassion he gives me without guile or expectancy. Dear reader, Just because hell was your romping ground doesn't mean you can't find your way to heaven. There is hope even when there is none and if you look you will always be able to find it. Dark times and hard times can make for a beautifully strong, unstoppable, unyielding spirit and mind. I am still healing, but I'm in a safe place, and SO much more of a person than I was. What once was a whisper is now a shout and the times that ensnared me made me who I am now. I can stand up for myself, I know my worth, I know more aspects of myself. I am weak no longer. I came out strong and I conquered. You can conquer too. I needed help, but ulitimately it was up to me to make decisions towards a better destination. Only I could save myself. I am my own hero.
  14. Survivor

    I don't feel like a survivor. I get called that and brave and strong but don't feel it. Instead I feel frustrated because I see myself everyday struggling, today I went to lunch with a friend who invited her daughter (my age) to join us and I felt so awkward. People my age that have not been through child abuse talk about childhood like it was some fairy-tale. I can't relate to this and I realize they can't relate to me either. I feel so fake when people talk about tv shows, music, celebrating holidays, birthdays and I smile and laugh like I know, like I had the same experiences and yet inside it hurts so much I feel like screaming but say nothing just smile and nod in agreement. I hate hiding this secret. I didn't ask for, I didn't get a choice in whether to have it happen or not. Its the same with work, with co-workers. I don't go out into public much anyway I get anxiety just going shopping. Although I work as a mobile x-ray tech I can function to do my job but then come home and hide from the world.
  15. Hello, I am new to this group. This is my first post. I was raped 29 years ago at the age of 18. I delt with it by blaming myself for getting drunk. (Now, I know that's not true, he is the one who took from me what I did not give. He is to blame.) I never reported it, never told my parents. For reasons I can't explain, it's coming up and out now. I am feeling the pain, fear, and panic of my 18 year old self, NOW. The nice people at rape call centers didn't know what to do to help me. I am having trouble finding people like me. Who understand how and why I was able to keep all these painful feelings hidden away for so long, because they did the same thing. I'm sure there are other people like me. I hope to get help here. The help that comes from listening to other people's experiences and stories. The help that comes from hearing how someone was able to move out of the darkness into the light. I don't know how to change myself from victim to survivor. Thank you for reading this. one more thing. I am old, and I am having trouble navigating this site. If anyone has suggestions of where to look, how to look, and what to look for, I'd appreciate it. I don't even know if I am posting this in the right place...
  16. Uneasy Dreamer

    Shadows thicken, darken deep- Writhing, twisting, turning, burning. Striving deeper inside my mind, my tired soul responds in kind. Shadows thicken, darken deep- phantom shapes, I do retreat. They follow, flowing past my grasp, like water from a broken glass. Things which might have been are lost inside my mind. Those chances gone for all of time. Shadows thicken, darken deep- torturing my spirit. I lash out, to no avail I see now that I shall fail. Shadows thicken, darken deep- Phantom shadows I entreat to brave the darkened heartless deep. That's born to us with restless sleep.
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