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Found 34 results

  1. “I’m nothing. I’m just what I am. that’s all.” I can’t get over this invasive feeling. So I guess I will write about it a little. I feel if I were somebody else, anybody else, maybe the right people could have cared, could care about me. If I were a child who had parents that cared for their well being. if I were a more important human being... because i know if the same friend who knew what was happening to me thought for a second any of her current friends were in danger, I know in a heartbeat those people would have help... I don’t really know why this is bothering me so much. Could be the fact that I feel I don’t exist when other people decide to come around and communicate... I just don’t know how else to feel but forgotten. It’s a very familiar feeling. I don’t think I’ve ever felt important and seeing an old friend just go all out for someone over something kind of triggered the feelings of worthlessness I have and wondering why the various people in my life never really saw me. i had a friend who knew I was being used by that horrible person. She knew and I remember the times she was there for me but I also remember the times she must not have taken me seriously enough to warrant worrying...we have grown since then and rekindled a small friendship and she has talked to me about her other friend who had been neglecting her friendship for a guy and now that the girl isn’t talking to the guy anymore, she barely speaks to me. I feel like I am just around to be used. another thing that currently adds to that feeling if worthlessness is my mom trying to make me feel bad for not helping her with things she wants help with. I just need to try to cut ties with her because she is a narcissist and I don’t want to be only important when I am convenient like my entire life has been with her. Right now she is trying to make me feel bad for things and I just want to scream in her face. And the post someone made here about the word survivor. And another post of a male teacher being grabbed by a female student... I just feel really invalidated and I’m kind of in pain mentally. My heart feels broken. I don’t even feel like I can be on here anymore i Just feel like nothing at all some days an expendable part to be used and thrown away when done i wish I could just disappear. But I can’t the self hatred, the self blame is at an all time high I don’t want my body. Or my mind
  2. Well, it’s Wednesday. I’m tired today. I was up late last night and early this morning and I’m ready to go back to my cozy bed and sleep away the rest of the week. Honestly, I haven’t blogged because there’s been nothing to blog about. Everything in my life is just heavy right now. There’s been little good and lots of bad and I just want to post something worth reading. That likely won’t happen today. I guess this blog will be a catch-up session. Since the last blog I posted was about my suicide attempt, I feel I owe everyone an update. I DID post a different blog after that one, but I decided to take it down. It was just…. too dark. I knew no one really wanted to read that. Even if someone DID want to read it, it wasn’t my best writing and I was ashamed that I even posted it. Although it wasn’t the best blog, it was pretty accurate in describing how I’ve been feeling lately. It’s hard to post about anything other than the big things that are right in front of my face. It’s like my feelings are in front of me jumping up and down, waving their arms, and screaming at me to acknowledge them. I’m not entirely sure how to get them to just shut up and leave me alone. So, I posted about it. It didn’t help and I felt bad about it, so I took it down. I’m sorry to anyone that read it. Today, though, will not be about my feelings. In a way, I suppose it will, but overall, I intend to just let you know what’s been going on. Maybe this will help ME in the process. We’ll see I’ve had 2 sessions since the session where I hugged The New Guy. The latter of those session involved The Wife, but the first one did not. This did upset me a little. I had told her a few days prior to the session about the suicide attempt and we talked about it. I also asked her if she would be at that session and she told me yes. So you can imagine my disappointment when I got there and found out she wouldn’t be joining us. That session was…hard. The New Guy started a new program with me that’s supposed to keep me from going to an inpatient facility. We started paperwork on that. I had to use a lot of scales and rate my feelings. On a scale of 1-10, how likely was I to kill myself or, on a scale from 1-5 how much did I hate myself. Then I had to write down my reasons for living and my reasons for dying. I had to tell him what I would do if I was trying to kill myself. Where I would go, what method I would use, what time I would do it. That was hard. This session took about an hour and a half to complete. It wasn’t the easiest session I’ve ever been in, but I was hoping it was productive. I started thinking about things after leaving and realized that I don’t think I was totally honest in some of the numbers I put down. I was terrified that if he knew how bad it was, he would still make me go inpatient. He said he wouldn’t, but…. I was still afraid. I didn’t trust him. He asked if I had a plan to kill myself. My first response was “I’m supposed to say no to that.” I don’t know why I said it – it just kind of came out. My other T has always told me that she wouldn’t make me go inpatient and she wouldn’t call the police as long as I didn’t have a plan. So, to me, plan = inpatient. I was trying to avoid that. After I blurted that sentence, I told him that I didn’t have a plan. He didn’t believe me. He kept saying I needed to be honest. I told him I didn’t have one. Then he seemed to get a little angry – he really didn’t believe me. After that is when he asked me to describe what it would look like if I DID have a plan. I’m not positive, but I’m guessing he put that I did and had me describe everything to him. I don’t know that for sure though. I told him the next day that I didn’t feel I was honest enough with my numbers and he said it was fine. I asked if I could change them and he said no. He said we would work with what we had and if I wasn’t going to commit to it, he would find me a hospital to go to. So, I said okay and left it at that. During the session, the paperwork had me create a stabilization plan. This plan was supposed to help keep me from cutting and also help me combat the suicidal thoughts/tendencies. It has worked for the most part. It’s just when I get super overwhelmed or when I don’t deal with the thoughts immediately, they add up and I end up hurting myself or getting close to another attempt. Which is what happened last night. I’ll get to that later. The next session I had with him was this past Saturday. I asked The Wife if she would be there and again, she said yes. And she actually was there this time. Things felt off from the very beginning. It may have partially been because I REALLY wasn’t wanting to go. I felt like The New Guy was upset with me about a conversation we had earlier in the week, and I felt like The Wife really just doesn’t like that she has to be there. I thought it would be much easier to not go. But, I went. The New Guy showed up almost 10 minutes late which made me feel MORE like a burden. Like he had other things he needed or wanted to be doing and I was just taking up too much of his time. I eventually went in and the room we usually have sessions in was filled with all kinds of boxes and things and wasn’t usable. So, we relocated to a different room. The new room we went to was one we had used for a session before, so I was okay with that. It felt comfortable enough. But for some reason, there was a smell. It wasn’t abhorrent, but it wasn’t pleasant. I kind of smelled like stale air and mildew, but it wasn’t too strong. It was bearable. Well, it was bearable for ME. The New Guy seemed okay with it too but The Wife… not so much. She wasn’t a fan. We decided to relocate again. At this point, we were running out of rooms that had the amount of privacy we needed. We ended up going upstairs to a cold room with dim lighting. There was no table, so we grabbed some chairs and sat in an awkward circle. My appointment was supposed to be at 3:00pm but the by the time The New Guy got there and we found somewhere to go, it was about 3:20pm. I only had 40 minutes and I knew he had someone scheduled at 4:00pm. Now I was feeling rushed because of how much time was wasted, I felt bad that The Wife was so uncomfortable with the other room because of the smell, I was uncomfortable because I thought The New Guy was upset with me or just flustered in general, I felt weird in the new environment and I was ready to go. I was set up for a bad session. I wrote a blog one time called Misconceptions of a Wandering Mind and in that blog, I talked about overthinking. I am an AVID overthinker. I read way too much into things, I try to find hidden meanings behind things that are said to me, I overthink assignments because the perfectionistic part of me doesn’t want to do anything wrong, and I always worry about what other people are thinking about me. You can imagine how this plays into my sessions and makes me more nervous. The New Guy has a way of asking questions that I don’t always know how to answer. The way he phrases things… I just never know what to say or how to answer him. I often times tell him that ‘I don’t know what kind of answer he’s looking for,’ and he will tell me that he’s not looking for anything specific, he just wants me to answer honestly. It’s just that I don’t always understand the questions. With my fear of being wrong, these questions often render me completely speechless and cause me to freeze. It makes for a lot of awkward time during sessions. So, we jumped right into the next part of the program we are doing. Session number 2. He starts asking about my attachments to other people. He asks me to describe what my relationship with my family looks like. I didn’t really know what he meant, and he asked me to start listing things I liked about my family and things I disliked. He had me grab a pen and paper and write this all down. I went on to write things about friendships, and other relationships in my life. This sounds like such a simple task when I write about it here, but my overthinking brain was on overdrive and I was struggling with this. The New Guy eventually says “this was meant to be easy. This isn’t a hard thing to do,” and I said I understood, I just didn’t know what to write. I could tell he was frustrated with me. I started shutting down. I was just trying to wait out the time until 4:00 so I could get out of there. The New Guy says we’ve hit a barrier and he doesn’t know what’s going on or where the resistance was coming from. I finally told him that I thought he was upset or mad at me and I didn’t know how to do the assignment and I was having hard time doing it right. He says he’s not upset, but his tone said otherwise. He said there was no evidence to show that he was mad and he didn’t know why I thought that because he clearly wasn’t. He just didn’t understand what was going on. The Wife chimes in and said there had to be evidence or I wouldn’t feel the way I was feeling. She asked if it was a tone or the way someone was sitting. I didn’t answer. I just looked down while I was crying. I didn’t know what to do. I was thankful she took my side though. The New Guy lets out a sigh, adjusts his sitting position, and says a bunch of things that I don’t hear. We start wrapping up and he asks me another question. I honestly don’t remember what the question even was, I just remember saying “I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know. I just don’t know.” The Wife kind of laughed but I wasn’t laughing. I said “I know you’re going to be mad because I’m just saying I don’t know, but I don’t know how to answer that question. I don’t know what you want me to say. I just don’t know what you’re looking for.” I had hit my breaking point. My words were more forceful that I intended, but I was done. I couldn’t keep feeling that way. He went on to say a lot of things but I was so dissociated that I have no idea what he said. He finally said, “are you hearing me?” and I responded with a slight nod even though I really didn’t hear anything at all. He gave me homework and I agreed to do it. I was saying whatever I could say just to get out of there. I left the building, got in my car, and I broke. I was sobbing uncontrollably. I felt like such a disappointment and I felt so defeated. I never wanted to see either of them ever again. I stayed in the parking lot crying for a solid half hour. When I was finally able to catch my breath, I tried to calm myself down so I could move on. I had a couple of errands to run so I put my headphones in, blasted some music, and got my errands done. The rest of the day was hard. I cried a lot. I was inconsolable. I got home and laid down. I was so low. My heart was broken and I felt like I was letting everyone down. I drew a bath, grabbed a blade, and headed to the bathroom. I closed the doors and sat in the tub contemplating the very existence of my being. What was the point in trying anymore? Things just kept getting worse. Obviously, I didn’t die that night or I wouldn’t be here typing this out. I wanted to though. I wanted to say goodbye and wish this life away because I didn’t see the point and living with all of this pain any longer. I got out of the bath, toweled off, threw on a t-shirt and got in bed. I was drained. I took my meds and went to sleep. The days following have been fuzzy. It doesn’t seem like it’s only Wednesday. It feels like that was weeks ago and I’m just missing the time in between. Luckily, tomorrow is Thursday and I can see my other T and release all of this. Last night was another hard one. I really don’t want to get into the details of what happened last night because I am embarrassed and ashamed. I feel disgusting. I was so upset last night after it happened. I let it happen because I didn’t care about myself – I just wanted to feel SOMETHING. I was so numb. I felt worse afterwards. I felt like I had no one I could talk to and nothing would make me feel better so I did the only thing I knew how to do – the only thing I thought would make me feel better and make me feel less numb. I grabbed a blade and headed to the bathroom. I didn’t draw a bath this time. I simply lifted my shirt and the side of my underwear and started sliding that sharp, silver blade across my right hip – my favorite cutting spot. I suppose it was because I was cutting over old cuts, but the bleeding was the worst it’s ever been. Those that are cutters know that when you cut, the blood makes dots in a line across where you’ve made the incision. For me, it pools, but never too much no matter how deep I go. This time was different. It was bleeding profusely. It beaded in a line like normal, but it just started dripping down my leg so quickly. I could see the blood pouring out and it was trailing down my leg onto my foot. It was scary. I’ve never bled so bad before. The cuts didn’t even seem that deep, I barely felt them. I’m not sure if I was just THAT numb, or if it was because I was cutting over old cuts that made it bleed so much. I cleaned up the cuts and the rest of my leg. My paper towels were soaked with blood. I put a band aid on and disposed of the saturated towels. I put my blade back up in the safe place and went to bed. I was so alone, so tired, and just so broken. Everything in my life feels so dark right now. I can’t see the way out of this hole that I’m in. I keep saying I’ll try harder, but I don’t know HOW. I’m doing everything I know to do. I’m trying my best. I’m trying to put in the work but I’m just not getting better. It’s exhausting feeling this way. Being constantly trapped in your own mind with negative thoughts that won’t stop. I know this blog hasn’t been fun, but I owed you an update. This is why I’ve been so scarce lately and why no one has heard much from me. I’m just so far into my own stuff right now that I haven’t been able to offer much for support. I haven’t even really been able to reach out for support for myself. I hope you are all doing well. I hope that there’s light and sunshine in each of your lives and you’re making it through on this journey called life. I know I’ll be okay soon – I’m just going through a rough patch. I’ll be okay though. Wishing you all the light and sending as many hugs as you’d like. My best, Poppy
  3. My ex and I called off our wedding nearly two years ago. Before I met her I truly believed that I would never be able to have an intimate relationship. With her help I moved forward and I had hopes and plans for my future instead of looking back on my past. I'd learned to manage my triggers. Then everything came crashing down. For once, it had nothing to do with my past trauma and I think that almost made it worse. My entire future was planned around one person. Believe me, I know that's not healthy but at the time it didn't matter because I'd convinced myself that's what you did when you got married. Since then, I have been drifting through my life. Deciding the abuse didn't happen as I'd convinced myself it had, that it truly was just two friends playing, was a coping mechanism. I couldn't afford to fall apart more than I already was. My health was deteriorating. I was depressed, anxious, and struggling with my job and the last thing I needed was to deal with my past trauma. I'd finally managed to get treatment that helped with my depression and anxiety. I quit the job that was dragging me. I'm still getting migraines every day but I think my psyche decided that I was ready to process the trauma again. One of the few enjoyments I've had in my life is reading and writing. Even when I have been at my lowest I have been able to find comfort in the escape of a fictional world. It seems, however, that when I began processing my trauma again that's been taken away from me. I can't read a sex scene without feeling sick. If there's any mention of abuse of any kind I can't get away fast enough. It frustrates me that I'm letting someone else control my happiness again. I just wish I knew how to get it back.
  4. It's june already.. my birthday just around the corner.. i don't know what to do.. how to deal with my trauma... i was raped a week after my birthday.. my trauma already come out and haunted my days.. i don't have anyone to talk to.. imsomnia .. depression.. I don't wanna talk to my family.. they don't even believe me.. how will i cope with this situations.... 😭😭😭 Lately i can't sleep.. i feel worthless.. useless.. i hate my self... i can't do this.. Anyways.. i don't have others choice .. i need to struggle.. no one will help me.. only me.. myself.. To everyone that on the same situation with me.. u guys can do it.. even no one trust us.. keep fighting . And never give up.. how hard it is... P/s trying to help myself.. 💔💔
  5. Dear Survivors, I am 26 years old. I suffered sexual abuse most of my childhood. I used to stare at the ceiling and just imagine being somewhere else when I laid on his bed being violated. That was my mental escape. I had gotten used to it so I never shed tears anymore. I just accepted it as being part of my life. I used to write journals as a method of helping me cope. I had a long list of questions some of which were: Why did you do it? Why me? Wasn’t your wife enough? What did I do to deserve it? I felt guilty. I felt ashamed. I was disappointed, angry and scared. The reality of what happened to me all those years only struck and sunk in the day I told my truth. I was overwhelmed with emotions as tears streamed down my face. I testified and he was sentenced to 10 years in prison. I had no support from my family concerning the abuse. No one ever asked what happened or even asked about the case. I was suffering major depression back then. I cried almost every day replaying all the incidents I remember in my head. I cut myself, I overdosed a few times on pills. I was even rushed to hospital one night. It feels like nothing else in the world exists but your heartache and pain. I used to be angry with God, asking why he allowed it to happen. Where was he? When I was being abused over and over and over again. I’m not telling my story to seek sympathy. I just want every survivor to know: YOU ARE NOT ALONE. It might seem hard to believe especially if your abuse was recent and still fresh in your head but things will get better in time. You won’t feel like this forever. One of the most important lessons I have learned through my trauma is to NEVER GIVE UP. Something I have also learned is that your trauma doesn’t define you. You determine how it helps you shape into becoming the person you want to be. I might not be always able to post but I wish to share my experiences with all of you. Sometimes it might be incidents or just how it has been affecting my life all these years in both bad and good days. Thanks for reading. I hope it helps even if it is in a very small way. PS: My title is inspired by the series New Amsterdam. Somehow the question always pops up: "How can I help?". And I wish to help.
  6. After silence

    I need help

    Urm.. i don't what to say.. but i guess i need help.. 😢 i need someone... listen to my story.. how hurts i am.. i just can't take it anymore.. i have no one to talk to.. about what happen to me.. 😢😢 Even my family don't believe me.. i don't know who else to believe... i never ask to be rape.. i never ask that... 😢 but no one listen to me... they put blame on me.. I hate myself.. i hate my life.. 😢 i live with trauma and depression.. and it's getting worse.. i do self harm... to getting rid of that feelings... 😢 I don't know what else to do.. i feel like wanna die.. wanna run away.. wanna dissapear... i can't take it anymore.. 😢😢 It hurts me... 😭😭😭 god.. i totally hate my life... this isn't fair... what should i do... why no one trust me???? 😢😢😭😭
  7. Hello! This is my first time writing on a forum, so I hope I don't sound too much like a newbie! According to my therapist and life experiences, I have a severe case of complex trauma.***So Trigger Warning*** I was raped and sexually abused starting at a young age and leading into my early 20's by people who I trusted, for a span of probably 15 years, but was never believed (victim-blamed) by friends, family, my church, and the school I was attending. To say the least, I had no desire to live and no one cared. Carrying these burdens while trying to manage daily life struggles and no support group, I definitely hit rock bottom a few times. I surrounded myself with terrible friends that would manipulate and control me and would take advantage of my niceness and always put me down. I thought the cycle would never end. It only took 1 person to believe in me. 1 person who genuinely cared and would just listen. Even then, it took me about a year to open up to my husband about all the abuse, but he continued to be my rock and to seek support and therapy. I have been going to a therapist for a little over 6 months and feel like I haven't even begun to scratch the surface. I'm scared every night going to bed of what my subconscious will show me next. I don't want my perpetrators to still have this power and control over my life, but it feels impossible to breath when I have flashbacks all the time. It has been a long journey and will continue to be a struggle for me for the rest of my life. It is a constant battle every day. I am lucky to have an extremely supportive husband and kitty that help keep me motivated to stay strong, but there are definitely days where I feel powerless, defeated, broken down, dirty, sick to my stomach. What keeps you going? I hope I can find some relief in sharing my experiences with all of you and hope I can help in supporting you as well. I look forward to reading all of your stories. Thank you for reading. XOXO
  8. Lonelyladybug

    Im broken

    I've had a difficult life so far. When i was eight i started to show the dirst signsof depression but of cpirse, my family didn't notice. They didn't notice a lot. When i was eleven i was raped and i kept it to myself for years because i was ashamed and i didn't want anyone to know. I dealt with the depression shame and disgust of my own body by myself. I Iet it destroy me so that it didn't destroy anyone else. At 12 my father started to sexually abuse me as well aa emotionally and mentally. He accused me of things i would never do and it's still happening to this day. At 14 i suffered a hip injury which the root problem started from my rape but of course, i didn't tell anyone that. I suffered extreme agony for 2 years, became addicted to prescription drugs which was tramadol methrocarbonal and cocodomal. I was an addict at 14. Earlier this year i had my surgery and I've been off my meds for a few months now. It's extremely hard but i know i have to resist the temptation. Truth is i just want to fall back into that oblivion where i don't remember my rape... where my father doesn't abuse me and actually wants my company just for me... where my mum is happy to see me. Ive never had an amazing relationship with my mother... i think she's always seen me as the burden of the family, but just shortly before my 16th birthday my father was arguing with me and my mother because cominf back from our holiday i was still in crutches (i hadn't got my operation at this time) i slipped on a wet floor and hurt my hip again. The pain was blinding and i had to be given an extreme dose of my meds to knock me out on the flight. My father took a different flight home and he had demanded before we left that i was to be there whenhe was getting collected. After my fall i was sent straight home with my sister and my father was NOT happy to say the least. He caused a massive argument, valling me a w**re amoung othet things and when it all came to a head and i was sobbing i told them i was raped in the heat of the moment. I thought when i told them that i wouldn't have to deal with it alone anymore. But my mother accused me of lying she doesn't believe me and my father makes rape jokes. That completely destroyed me. I need help i can't do it alone anymore... I've contemplated suicide and I'm trying to convince myself that it'll get better in time but it's been nearly a decade I've been suffering with depression. Im only 17. I just... i have no where else to turn and i thought that if there was someone going through the same thing they might be able to help. Thank you for taking the time to read this. - lonelyladybug x
  9. After silence

    Me

    Still crying.. can't get over it.... and i'm trying my best to forget it.. to move on.. Still think about suicide.. how to end it all...how to get rid of this feelings.. But somehow still manage to smile .. laugh... jokes with others.. While at 3 a.m .. 😭😭 I'm all alone.. 😢 and think.... i don't wanna live anymore.. this isn't fair.. why no one get it?? Why people put blame on me?? It's not like i wanna get that things happen to me! Why no one ever considered it.. never ask me how i feel..how i ever survive this depression anxiety all this things... I don't care how many years its gonna take.. but why.. no one believe me... it's not my fault.. i don't want all of this things to happen.. i don't want.. I wanna dissapear.. i want to forget all of this.. 😢 Sorry for my broken english.. 😭😭
  10. You need to get over it... Thats what i get when i told my parents about my mental and health issues.. about my trauma and depression.. Thats all.. i need to get over it by myself.. i don't need help.. i'm gonna be fine.. 😊 what's the point i tell them about my problems.. when they don't even care?? Well.. am i really gonna be fine?with this trauma? Depression? And anxiety?
  11. The wall and the mask that i made up… Start to crumbling down.. It start to breaking into pieces… And i'm afraid of it… I'm no longer myself.. i already try the best…. But i know it hard… to be strong again… I started to lose it.. Nightmare? Depression? Trauma? Anxiety.. Bulimia... i can't afford it anymore.. I can't.. Faking my smile.. faking my laugh.. faking everything…why? Why do i need to do this.. why do i need to be someone that i'm not… Why do i need to impress everyone.. They don't even care I wake up 3 am everyday.. i'm crying a lot.. i do self harm.. but theres no one with me.. theres no one comfort me.. i know theres no one .. nobody will comfort me.. help me.. through all of this…. I know i'm all alone… i know it… I took a deep breath.. close my eyes for a moment.. i need to let it go.. i must! Just for a while.. i can't.. i know i can't Tears slowly crawl down on my cheek.. I start to scream… i feel pain in my chest.. i feel a lot of burden that i need to let go.. but it didn't happen… I can't take it anymore… I grab cutter that lie on my desk.. I start to cut my wrist.. one cut.. two cut… three cut… blood start dripping on the floor… Same goes with my tears… I drop the cutter.. i start to feel weak.. My tears cant stop falling.. For a while.. i didn't feel pain... i don't feel anything Its getting harder to breath… it hurt deep inside.. its torturing me.. but i can't break free.. so i continue to crying… Why can't let me be who i am… why can't people accept me for who i am… Please.. save me from this feeling… i just wanna be free… I wanna chill out like before… i miss the old moment.. the moment that i still myself… moment i didn't become somebody else… Why everything turn complicated… why… I guess this is life.. i need to become somebody else to impress every single thing in this world… Even it making me frustrated… but i guess this is how i still can survive.. by faking everything… I wake up from my bed… throw away my comforter.. face myself in front of the mirror… even though my wrist hurt.. blood shattered everywhere… i need to continue live on.. I took a deep breath.. i smile… Yes.. i need to smile.. but then i felt something cold on my cheek… i'm crying. I hate to shed a tear… i totally hate it.. And its the moment i know i no longer can't pretend…. Its getting harder to pretend.. to survive… Suddenly i feel a vibration.. my phone ringing.. I see a notification come in.. I got message from someone… Its from someone i know… i pick up my phone and start to read what written on the chat.. "Dear… You know you are my everything.. before this i always alone... you're the one who support … help me whenever i down… i would do anything to always be with you… you know what.. you are my sunshine… you shine my day… when people shut me off.. you always there for me… " "You are worthless than anything… don't hurt yourself… please don't…even no one in this world accept you for who you are... God still there for you.. i'm also always there for you… even its hard.. even its torturing you.. smile. Please smile.. your smile brighter my day.. i know you still there.. you didn't lose yourself.. you are here with us.. come back… we misses you so much….." "But i know… you no longer here.. in this world.. with us… its been 3 month… we miss you a lot.. i.. i can't forgive myself.. for not be there while you hurting yourself... i know i'm not a good friend.. for always left you behind .. i'm sorry that i can't help you to break free from this cruel world… i'm so sorry…." " i miss you a lot…. I wish we still together… to the end… i'm sorry…. " My tears broken.. if only times can be rewind.. i wish i didn't do that stupid thing… i wish i was stronger than this.. I miss you guys too… a lot…. I'm sorry for doing all of this… i thought theres no one here for me anymore…. I'm sorry… i only can regretting all of this… I look around my bedroom.. theres a photo on my cupboard… my photo… with a letter.. That written.. " we will always love you.. we will always miss you.. rest in peace… you are not loser.. you are stronger than anyone.. you are survivor…. may God always bless you dear.." - ♡♡ Don't suicide… ♡♡
  12. After silence

    I feel empty

    Somehow.. tonight i feel kinda empty I feel like losing my ownself.. feel like wanna give up wanna end my life..
  13. After silence

    Alone

    I'm all alone... Friends? I dont have it.. actually i have.. a lot of friends.. but they just exist when they need something from me 😂 But i feel happy with my life now.. being alone are good and awesome.. i dont need to think about others.. their feelings.. are they okay or not.. coz they never even care.. about me.. so yeahh.. the hell with it.. 😭😢 actually i do care.. i love all of my friends... but they didnt.. why should i have this kind of feeling.. i hate all of this.. Kinda hating being alone.. but life is bitches.. so yeahh accept it Be strong dearself!
  14. After silence

    Nightmare

    Its just another nightmare... i dream about it again.. i can see clearly his face... i can barely feel his touch... its make me sick! How can i survive like this... whenever i see my reflection on mirror... i cant see me.. the real me.. i only see the other part of me.. 😢😢😢😢
  15. After silence

    Cut

    Last night... I got depressed.. and cut my hand several times... lucky it doesnt blood so much.. and its not that hurt... I feel relieved and getting better after i cut my hand.. And now.. like nothing bad happen 😊 i'm smiling
  16. AlyssaLane

    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.
  17. This summer has been quite eventful for me. I completed my first college class (English 110/ Composition I) in the spring semester and got an "A". I then took English 111 (Composition II) this summer and just got my grades and found out that I passed with another "A". Both classes I doubted my abilities and constantly worried that I wasn't doing a good enough job. Others kept telling me that I was doing fine and that there was nothing to worry about. Every paper, every assignment was the same. I'd work hard on it, but never felt like it was good enough when I turned it in and then would wait anxiously for it to be graded. It was a big relief both times when I got my final grade for each class. Why can't I feel confident in my abilities? This is a problem in other areas too. I never feel like I am good enough, in my music playing, being a friend, or just day-to-day life. I have an exciting future ahead starting in August. I'll be moving into the student housing on campus, be a full-time student and even got a part-time job at the college. I'm thrilled about it all and can hardly wait for next month, but at the same time I've started having thoughts creep in, causing self-doubt and fear of failure to raise their ugly heads. It all seems to good to be true, almost unreal and I start to feel that it's not going to happen, or I'm going to fail at the new job and/or classes. I begin to doubt my ability to become a sign language interpreter. Who am I to think that I can actually interpret professionally?! I have this fear that my mind is just going to go blank and that I will forget everything. I fear that I won't be able to keep up in the classes or do the assignments. I'm scared that I won't be able to handle the job, helping students write their papers. I feel like I am reaching beyond my capabilities. That it is just a dream that will turn to ashes. I know these thoughts aren't the truth and are just there to discourage me from reaching for a better life. I have friends and family that are cheering me on and are confident that I will do well. My professors thought that I'd do well at the job and wrote letters of recommendation for me. So why do I struggle with these feelings/thoughts so much? On top of it all, I have still been struggling with depression, which then makes me feel guilty. With all of these good things happening, shouldn't I just be happy? I continue to see my counselor to help get grounded. I also have just started to see a doctor to see if I need more than just counseling to help with the depression. The doctor is also trying to figure out why I am in so much physical pain all of the time (that doesn't help with the depression!). I'm supposed to get some blood work done as she is checking to see if I have rheumatoid arthritis or fibromyalgia among other things. Just going to see the doctor in the first place was a huge step for me. And yet I can see that I have made progress in my healing from my past. A couple of weeks ago I had an encounter with a fellow student at the campus. I was working on an assignment before time to go to my class and was in a student lounge area. I had tried to get a bag of chips from the vending machine, but they got stuck and wouldn't come down. A guy was standing behind me waiting to use the machine. In the past I would have started to panic with him standing there, but I did ok and even laughed with him at the chips hanging there. I finally gave up and got something else before going over to a table to set up my laptop and get working. He left, but then came back and started talking to me. I've been trying to be more sociable with guys as my counselor has been reminding me that while there are some out there that are bad, not ALL guys are bad. He wound up sitting at my table and we chatted some about our classes. I was doing ok, though since I was sitting in a corner I felt slightly trapped, but not too bad. Also, people would walk by, so it wasn't like we were totally isolated. Then he mentioned that he like my feet and started going on about how beautiful they were. THAT was starting to creep me out a little, but again, I wasn't panicking. Next thing I knew, he was saying that he'd like to get together sometime and he could give me a foot massage. I drew the line there and told him that would make me totally uncomfortable. I then said that I really need to finish my assignment and he took the hint and left. Not too long after some of my classmates started arriving and my thoughts were turned to our class. The fact that I didn't totally freak out and have a full-blown panic attack shows that I've made progress. I think the main thing that helped was that I knew there were people around that I could get help from if needed. When I discussed it with my counselor, she said that I handled it great, that I set a clear boundary. I'd worried that maybe I should talk to the school counselor about it, but she said that since he respected my boundary and left that I didn't need to. Now if he had stayed and still bothered me, then maybe I'd need to get someone else involved. Thankfully the guys in my summer class were great and I enjoyed interacting with them and had no struggles. I hope to continue to form healthy casual friendships with guys, especially as I'll be around a lot more of them while living in the student housing. Enough ramblings for tonight. Here's to a dawn of new future.
  18. After silence

    Survive

    Its been 2 years.. i still cant forget it. I still live in nightmares.. i'm depress.. i'm struggling.. every day... I still hate my self.. i still cant accept it. The things you have done .. leaves me with scars... i dont like memories... i hate to remember it again.. i hate to shed a tear.. I left today hating what you have done to me.. you dont just took something from me.. you took everything.. every single of me.. Every time i showered.. i cry.. i still can see what you have done.. your hands are imprinted on me... your voice still lingers in my ear.. still pounding in my head ... its a bad daydream that never ends... Your hand that choke me.. that slap me.. that touch me.. i cant forget it.. everytime its kill me.. i hate my body as much as i hate you.. i hate my eye.. my ear.. my hair.. my body.. even my voice... because of you.. its hurt me everytime i remember.. you touch me... its hurt me a lot .. everytime i know.. i am a broken girl.... This is the pain.. that no one can see.. its slowly killing me.. torture me.. killing me apart.. bit by bit.. its hurt.. its kill me inside.. Theres the day that i wanna give up.. like i wanna kill myself.. like i want to end all of this.. i am a shame.. i am a mistake.. I am nobody.. useless.. unprecious.. but i still try.. try my best. Struggling here by my side.. continue faking everything.. to see everyone beside me.. happy.. to see their smile.. their happiness.. because i love them... they everything to me... Even though i'm nothing to them.... Every night.. i still whisper the same thing.. almost 2 years... "please.. let me go.. please.. stop it.. please... " every night with my pillow full with tears.. i cant scream out loud.. i cant crying out loud.. i dont want people to know.. how broke my hearts. How hurt i am.. Because in the morning.. here i am.. smile.. laugh.. in front of your guys... Faking my another day.. my life.. just to see people around me.. smile and cheerful.. Here i am.. a survival girl.. who dying inside.. but live outside...
  19. After silence

    Trauma

    Trauma? Feels like you want to end your life ??
  20. I'm good at faking smile... 😊 why? Because with that i know i'm getting stronger. I dont need people to keep asking me "are you okay?" No.. because whatever happen i'll never be okay.. I'm done. I'm tired. I just need my space.. my time to be alone.. i just want to be alone. I know i'll neved getting better.. i just keep faking everything . Faking my smile my laugh my appearence.. its bettter than crying out loud but no one listening .. no one ever care.. their just keep saying... "its all your fault" its okay.. i used to live my life like this.. im fine...
  21. rsilver15

    Nature/nurture

    I've been feeling depressed lately. In the true, medical sense of things - I feel chemically imbalanced; fatigued, hopeless, withdrawn, with a physical feeling of heaviness, sadness, that I can't shake off. I start to cry over nothing, I constantly stifle inner dialogues that go something like "this will never get better," "it could, it will, maybe"..."no one loves you," "yes, they do.". I may be off about this - I haven't had my neurotransmitters tested lately, but I feel like this is a different kind of depression that what I feel in regards to my past experiences, trauma, etc. It's hard to put into words, but I can tell the difference. I know I've definitely experienced both of these types of depression (brands? strains? Idk the proper terminology) at the same time, which let me tell you is all kinds of horrible, and I've experienced both separately. Thinking about this has led me down the rabbit hole of - what parts of my personality, my character, my cognitive functioning, even, have been impacted by trauma, and what parts are just the way I was wired? I realize it is impossible to tease any of that out - I will never know if I would still be anxious and depressed if I'd had a "normal" childhood, I'll never know a lot of things about who I would be without the experiences I've had, but nobody can. We are all this crazy mash-up of nature and nurture, and I feel like I tend to get hung up on one or the other. Sometimes I'll put it all on "nurture" and wax nostalgic about all the things I could have been, the person I would be (complete with natural confidence and zero trust issues) if I'd been raised in a different environment. And then I think, maybe that has very little to do with it - maybe I am the way I am because that is how I was born, and I could have been raised in a Park Avenue mansion or in a park by Charles Manson and I'd be more or less the same. Most of the time, I know it is not that simple - the relationship between nature and nurture is complex and nuanced and we don't even understand how it works, really. I do know that sometimes I need to grieve for the person I 'could have been', and that feels right. And other times I need to believe that the essence of who I am, my soul, my personality, is what got me through the things that hurt me, and that I am who I am supposed to be, in spite of (and maybe even because of) what I've experienced. I'm going to try to reconcile these two sides, to stop trying to pin down if my feelings or reactions or tendencies are a reaction to past trauma or a result of my genetic makeup, and to embrace myself as a whole person. Depression, whatever the root cause, has been taking a toll on me, and I realize that I've been trying to pin down something to blame for it... Now that I've written this out, I feel like I can try to move forward into figuring out ways to help myself, instead.
  22. AlyssaLane

    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.
  23. AlyssaLane

    Drowning

    I feel like I'm in the middle of the ocean. The cold, bitter ocean. Alone. I see ships pass by and planes fly over and I call out. But no one hears me. No one stops to help me. I'm trying--really hard to stay afloat. I'm viciously kicking in the water. I'm flailing, desperately just trying to survive. I'm going under. Sinking below the surface deeper into the waters below. It's dark and it's freezing and I'm alone. I'm gasping for air and my lungs are filling with water. I'm exhausted. I can't swim anymore. My legs are weak and my muscles are sore. Every movement feels like my limbs are burning from the inside out. I manage to get a few breaths of air but continue to slowly fail again and again. I sink deeper after every breath. After every moment of air I fall deeper yet again. No matter what I do; this only gets worse. The land lies on the horizon. Too far out of reach. Land is for those who managed to seek rescue or for those who never had to drown at all. Even if I swam for the rest of my life-- I know I would never make it there. Land is not what I'm meant for. I'm meant to drown. Alone. I am going to go under, out here, alone. The ocean will consume me and I will become just another sunken ship. Just another body that will never be found. A death never solved. Answers will be derived from what I left behind but no one will fully know. No one will know that I just couldn't swim anymore. That I was just too tired. My body hurt too much. And the pain only grew as the days when on. Waves constantly knocked me away from the land. Farther and farther out of my reach despite my constant strides towards it. Eventually, I just gave up. I couldn't do it anymore. I was never too good of a swimmer. And I never will be. -Lane.
  24. AlyssaLane

    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.
  25. AlyssaLane

    Bird

    Do any of you ever wish that maybe you could just leave? Not just your surroundings but your body. Just leave your entire self behind. I just always feel so trapped. My weird feelings about wanting to leave myself often make me so uncomfortable I refuse look in mirrors. I don't look at my own body in the shower. I get anxious trying to sleep at night because all I can feel is my own body-- this weird sense of self awareness that I can't get rid of. That's literally the weirdest kind of thing to have to admit and I don't even think I've completely described the feeling. I've such an uneasy, fearful feeling. Honestly, and this is probably too much, but I usually get it when I take off my bra. I don't know why but in those moments I just want to fucking disappear. I've always felt that if I were any animal, I would be a bird. I would be a bird because birds can fly away whenever they want. They can go wherever they want. Do whatever they want. What they lack in intelligence they make up for in spirit. Additionally, birds are never really alone. They come in flocks. They travel in groups. I, however, am always alone. I'm everyone's last resort. I'm always the cancelled plan or the back-up friend. I'm the last person you think to text. And when I text you-- you groan and put the phone away. You ignore me. Everyone ignores me. Everyone hates me. I don't blame them, honestly. I hate me, too. If I could pick any bird, it would be a seagull. I know they're just huge assholes (me) but hear me out. They live in warmth and safety their whole lives. I've only been the beach about 3 times; and when I stood on the shore and looked out at the ocean horizon, for the first time in 5 years (at that time), my mind was drawn a blank. I wasn't thinking about all of my problems.I wasn't thinking about what had happened to me. I wasn't thinking about how afraid I was. I was thinking about the impact we could have in the world. Like, my feet were moving the sand and in all technicality, the sand will never be exactly the same again. It will NEVER fall in the same place exactly like it had before I touched it. My footprints may wash away but the sand will never lay like it once had before. I think people are, sometimes, like sand. I sometimes still think about this girl, who I didn't even know that told me, after hearing me call myself trash, that I wasn't trash. That I should never call myself trash. That I was beautiful. On my worst days, I still think of that girl. She probably wasn't even thinking when she said that. She probably walked away embarrassed. She probably thought herself to be silly and intrusive. But I still think of her. Anyway, if I could capture the peace I felt on that beach forever, I would. I would do it. I would fly around above the ocean everyday. I would look around and be with other seagulls. I would be at peace and I would never really be alone. I'm always so alone. And I'm always so afraid. -Lane.
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