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Found 8 results

  1. 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.
  2. 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.
  3. 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.
  4. I Remember Falling

    It was during the summer of this past year. My friend invited me to a party. Parties, naturally, have never been my thing. I hate big groups of people. In my mind, at least one person in a crowd could be evil .They could be a murderer or a rapist. I have trust issues. I trusted my step brother almost 7 years ago now and just look where that got me. I don't remember much of the party. I do know now, though, that I really can't handle my liquor. I shouldn't drink it. I knew that going into it but I was stupid and reckless. I was really depressed at the time and I just wanted to relax and forget for just one night. I wanted just one night of peace. One night to say that it wasn't on my mind. To say that I wasn't thinking of my past and what has happened to me. I just wanted one day of that awful week to be happy. That was a huge mistake. Everytime I try to be happy-- something bad always happens. Honestly, I should have fucking known something would happen. When I woke up in the morning, I was confused. I honestly didn't remember how I got home. I smelt like vomit and had McDonalds lying next to me in my bed. I remember bits and pieces throughout the night. I remember sitting on a couch and waiting for my friend. I remember riding in a car and not knowing where it was going. I remember people asking me if I was okay-- I think I was crying. I remember every time I said yes and asked them to leave me alone. And I remember falling. I was in a dark room in the house. It was a pretty big house and my drunk self couldn't really navigate it. I was looking for my friend, who I think, had disappeared with her boyfriend at some point during the night. I should have known that they would have been doing scandalous, consensual things. But I'm an idiot and went looking around anyway. Partly because my friend had promised not to leave me alone for too long, because she knows I have anxiety issues, so I just got a little too worried. I ran into someone. I was suddenly in a room with someone I didn't know. I remember little bits of trying to fight back or yell. Something like that. Then...i fell. Next thing I remember I'm in a car with my friends and I think we're going to eat. Not remembering makes me feel like an idiot. What if nothing really happened and I'm just being silly. I did wake up the next day with a hickey and bruises but that could have been normal drunken promiscuity and falling around. I don't know. It's probably a good thing I don't know everything that happened. But for the past (almost) year since it happened, I've been a reck. More anxious. More depressed. More nightmares. I already had these issues because of what happened to me when I was younger and my biggest fear has always been having it happen again. I guess, in a small way, I should be grateful I got lucky and didn't remember all of it. Sometimes, I dream about and I can't tell if they're just stupid dreams or memories of some sort. It's kind of driving me insane. I've kept all of this to myself. Since it's so recent I don't want someone to tell me to go to the police or pressure me into something of that sort. What am I supposed to tell them, anyway? I don't have a name or even a description. I don't know the address of where the party was. I don't know everyone I was with. I don't know who I spoke to throughout the whole night. I don't know what room I was in. The report would just be a mess. Nobody would believe me. Sometimes I don't even believe myself. I feel like a fucking moron. -Lane.
  5. Lost in my mind

    There are times when I catch myself staring outside and looking at nothing. All that I am thinking about is how jumbled my mind is. For all these years I have been lost. I can't explain why I am the way I am. When my screams in my sleep wake up my family how do I tell them? I play it off that it was just a nightmare. It never is. Someone close to, during an argument, told me that I need to stop being the victim after all these years. As if I have some on and off switch. I wish that I knew how to stop this tail spin. If I knew how to help myself then I would do it. I want to live a normal life. Maybe I am simply cursed to live this way.
  6. Invisible

    I am so sick of feeling invisible. Let me try to break apart the different ways in which I feel invisible. Sexually - For the past two years. maybe for a few years leading up to that too, my husband's and my sexual relationships has changed... has tapered off. Now, I know that's normal... but it's almost like... I am apprehensive to say or do ANYTHING blatantly sexual, because he appears to get irritated and annoyed that I'm horny, again. So like... I have taken to basically being nudist in my house... because it's comfortable (we were never like that growing up...) but also because I like walking around in front of him naked. But. He. Doesn't. Care. I don't even know what would get a reaction out of him... maybe if I wore a clown suit? Or set myself on fire? I don't know. He just... carries on like everything is normal. I feel invisible. Likewise... I have really upped my consumption of porn and how often I masturbate... and I have started drawing intense erotic illustrations... Again, he could be walking by me drawing, or writing something... look at it, and just walk by. Like nothing out of the ordinary is going on. I'm not saying he needs to like... fucking throw me down each time he sees that... but... SOMEthing would be nice. It's so hard, and getting so much harder every day, because I'm realizing how much sex, sexual attention, and feeling wanted by someone matters to me - to my fucking core. It is NOT just about getting off, it's about truly feeling wanted by a man, feeling coveted, needed, desired. Cherished. It hurts me so bad when he ignores me, over, and over, and over. In General - My man has always been quiet, has always been... reserved. Shy. That's fine. What is hard, is the constant feeling of zero communication. On a typical night... we might speak 100 words to eachother - and that is probably being generous. Yes, we have BOTH gotten into the habit of technology taking over our "down time"... but even if I try to initiate conversation, he doesn't want to talk. I have asked him what his favorite part of the day was... Did he see anything weird.... Eat anything good? Anything, just, fucking talk to me... and he can't. He doesn't want to. But then, if his mom calls, or his brother... he instantly comes alive. He wants to chat, he wants to talk, socialize. Why won't he socialize with me? Or, if we are doing something socially (btw, majority of the time we do shit with his family, since all my siblings live away, and my mom lives downstate. His entire family is in the area.) he comes alive. He wants to stay late, talk to everyone, etc. Why won't he talk to me anymore? Or like, if we're in a social situation, he's very apt to not introduce me or include me in conversations... or ditch me all together. I am not that shy... so in the beginning I would stick my hand out and introduce myself... 7 years in... I am so fucking tired of it... I just... will be there... in the background. Or like... today, I come home... I ask him questions... I get one word responses. I told him that I had a hard day... nothing.. It's just so hard to.... feel so invisible. And I KNOW part of it is he is so comfortable with me, that he can just... .be.... but I am dealing with severe emotional abuse and trauma... shit that made me HYPER needy... I'm mad at him. I'm not. Life Decisions - There has been one major.....major fucking decision that was made the first year of our marriage in which I had no say. He had a job downstate. I was just about to graduate college. His job was KILLING him. He was depressed, and would come home and cry.... I fully supported him getting a different job. I tried to get him to look out of state, or downstate... anywhere where there WERE jobs. He could only see moving to his hometown. I tried so hard to help him see other options... but he chose a 3rd shift, part time job, and moved back in with his parents. So.... when I graduated, I moved in with my in-laws. It was fucking hard. I had an incredibly hard time finding work... and he was on a completely different schedule.. so when I did see him, he was sleeping. Now... we are established... we have our careers, our own house... it's cool. And we have fought about his... decision.. but I have decided it isn't worth it for me to bring it up.. all it does is make him crazy defensive, and we fight horribly... so why do that? But it's hard... because he makes these other (not as big, but still LIFE) decisions without taking into account MY thoughts. Like, he was already planning on doing it, but he's telling me first. IE - we got a dog. He took a demotion/pay cut to have less responsibility at work. And then a series of incredibly small fucking trivial decisions that just... accumulate and make me feel like I am a shadow in my own life. "Oh didn't I tell you we're having dinner with my parents tonight?" It's just... I am so fucking lonely. I didn't even know I was lonely... I brought up date night with him last week... just.. trying to schedule time for us to reconnect... he asked why, but then was down for it... Yeah... I haven't heard about it since then. That's the thing... like, I COULD go and remind him... I COULD go and bring it up to him, again. But... I am so fucking sick of that. I want HIM TO CARE ENOUGH ABOUT ME TO SEEK ME OUT. I want HIM to want to do things for me, to worry about me, to cater to me, to cherish me. I know he loves me... but it's a platonic... like... brotherly/roommate love... I don't feel like his partner. I don't feel like.... anything. I feel like a fucking shadow that just hangs out... I can manifest sometimes to say things, interact with objects.... but usually I'm just a shimmer of darkness... I'm just so fucking sad right now.
  7. Sadness. (Possibly Triggering)

    I don't know that I want an answer. No, that's wrong, I definitely do. I want to be heard. I've been holding a lot inside, but I do want to be heard. That bastard....Campus rape. My first semester. Nothing ever seems to go right for me, as soon as I endeavor on something new I always get my heart ripped out and stomped on. I should report him. I COULD report him. I could make him pay for what he did. I wish I wasn't so scared. So scared of what might happen if I open my mouth. I don't know how i'm going to feel okay. Ever. will...I? Knowing that he's out there and free and not knowing what damage he may have caused me. I know that I'll be spending years thinking about this. Months of sadness, wasting my time reliving the fears in my mind. I can't even sit here alone in my room and feel okay. THAT BASTARD. How can you sleep at night? Oh how I hope you are rewarded for my misfortune you son of a bit*h. I want to heal. So badly. I was healing, finally, I was finally healing from the abuse that started my freshman year of high school. This is history repeating itself. Is it not. Have I not suffered enough in my life? And to think that you were someone I once confided in. You knew all the gory details. You knew my pain. You are really something aren't you. I will never understand how this world is filled with so much evil. I will never understand why rape is so common. So dreadfully common. No one ever lives without it touching someone they care about, know about, or themselves. I'm so angry. But i'm also very hurt. I'm hurting so badly, was this what you wanted? to cause me a lifetime of misery for a few moments of your own selfish, twisted pleasure you men that do these things are freaks. How dare you. How dare you defile us. How dare you lay hands on us and make meal of our flesh. How self entitled can you be, what makes you think this is okay? God, If I could eliminate the evils of this world you must know that I would have made rape one of them. I would have put rape on that commandment list, I would have drawn it in permanent marker, chiseled it in mountainsides, I would have made Moses move mountains, Put it on the pinnacle of the earth and forced the whole world to see it's own wickedness. The dogs that we call men would never go a day without that slap to their faces. I would make colors to describe the anguish we must feel. I would come up with words, poems, literature specifically for the world to understand why this should NEVER happen to anyone for any reason. Oh how sick. How sick you are world. One day I hope that hell is real just to watch the wicked burn. I would love to smite the earth myself sometimes But when all is lost I remember that there is still hope There is still reason to believe in love and miracles God I wish I could get his smug face out of my mind His cruel laugh is ringing in my ears I am dishearted, and I hate the fact you even exist. How could such a loving God allow such evil to reside within you, or are you the darkness? I am not so certain of anything, You call yourself a Christian but all you have managed is to persecute me, I swear on my life that I will find a way to overcome the things you say and have done, but I will never ever fully disentangle myself from you. You gave intimacy a bad name.
  8. Unspoken Words

    My daily schedule is abnormal, to say the least, since it has been so long since I held a job (a little over 8 years). I typically sleep from 4 or 5:00 am until 1 or 2:00 pm, give or take, anywhere from 8-10 hours per day, depending on my physical and emotional needs. The reason for this odd sleeping pattern is due to my boyfriend's job, which is second-shift hours. Though, perhaps, not ideal, these hours have worked for us for several years because my boyfriend and I are both night owls. Comfort can be found in the wee hours of the morning with peace and quiet that only those hours seem to afford - peace and quiet that I cannot get at any other time of day where we currently live. Above all else, my resting period is by far the most important aspect of protecting my sanity, which is why today's therapy appointment was a complete bust. My appointment was scheduled for 11:00 am, technically the middle of my "night." I suppose I could have rescheduled this appointment for another time (I didn't notice the time slot on the card until after I left the last appointment); but considering that I'm lucky to get an appointment every three weeks, I didn't want to risk having to wait even longer for another one. I struggled to make myself get into bed at 1:30 am this morning in order to be up by 9:00 am, only to toss and turn for the next 2 hours. I only got a little over 5 hours of sleep which left me cranky and not in the mood to talk at all! Any less than 8 hours of sleep, and, yeah, I'm pretty much worthless for the day. I know that I function poorly on less sleep which is why I dislike, no, detest having this routine screwed up. It has taken me years to understand what "I" need; and this is one of those "non-negotiable, must have requirements to function properly" things. I thought that I had made myself clear about the reasons I preferred afternoon appointments to my therapist the first two times I discussed it with him; but I reiterated them again today for the first 10 minutes of the appointment. Honestly, I cannot even remember what he said to me after I finished my spiel. Maybe, it was lack of sleep. Maybe, I dissociated. Nevertheless, the only impression I took away from today's appointment was that my therapist was distracted and seemingly uninterested in what I was saying (on his computer part of the time and on his cell phone a couple of times). He did, at least, schedule the next one (another 3 weeks away) for the afternoon. After only three appointments with this new therapist, therapy is leaving me feeling disappointed, unheard, and generally hopeless. It took so much for me to get back into therapy again after a five year long break from psychiatry. I had hoped this time might be different, that I might actually be able to work through a lot of the issues that still cause me distress. Unfortunately, there really aren't many choices for therapy where I live, especially since I have no health insurance and no money of my own to purchase such things (I guess, I'm a criminal, now, for that?); but I have to make the best out of this experience with this therapist. The unspoken words I heard today were, "Conform or don't waste my time."
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