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About this blog

I'm just going to use this as a space to process things in a way I can write down and read again when I need to. Any input you have is welcome.

Entries in this blog

Processing

Grief Is Weird

Posting this because my brain won't let go and I need a break. But I talked about it yesterday in therapy about the way I've suddenly begun grieving. One of the biggest questions for me that's still unanswered is "why now?" I started being SA'd approximately 17 years ago, starting with being groped and having my body talked about sexually by my neighbor and brother and describing ways they wanted to SA me. The first memory that came back to me was my neighbor's cousin sexually exposing himself t
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masongator in Processing

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Processing

Angel In A Box

Today was emotionally a hurricane for me. Everything seemed to remind me of my brother and everything about my brother reminded me of him touching me and every reminder of him touching me just brought the snickering sound of my mom laughing his abuse off and defending him. I struggled with the fact that she didn't get me a single present because she doesn't love me. It all set in how much of a lie my life had been. Staring at the forgotten remains of the childhood I thought I had all day broke m
masongator

masongator in Processing

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Processing

Never Stood A Chance

This isn't really a recovered memory but just something that occurred to me. At one point I was trying to see how much I could remember of my early childhood. A lot of it seems murky. I just was curious... I had no intention to reopen old wounds. Then I realized that around the age of 3, maybe early into 4, I had exactly one memory that's still somewhat intact. It reaffirmed to me, crystal clear, that there just wasn't love where I thought there was.  I remembered being absolutely terrified
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masongator in Processing

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Room To Grieve My Childhood

Sitting With It

I'm currently left with not much to do except stew in my thoughts and emotions. I think I've done enough rotting... for now at least. I have a lot to say. I sat for quite a bit with the realization that I'm not just grieving my dad. I'm simultaneously grieving the fact that I had the possibility of a safe and happy childhood forcibly taken from me by my abusers for reasons I don't even fully know. Grief, for me, has always been late to arrive. I understand in my dad's case, that I didn't at
The Voice Currently Borrowing My Lips

I Wish I Knew How I Could Help You

Today, Silas has been a little more expressive and it's excruciating. He said today, "why did we let this happen?" over and over. Just to himself. He also lifted his shirt and made motions across his stomach and arms; he wanted to cut those spots. All he wants is to cuddle with me; he's still scared to directly speak to me. I'm sorry I let you down little one. I'll at least be here for you to rest against.
The Voice Currently Borrowing My Lips

Breathing Room

Spent time with Silas today. I think the biggest thing I need to focus on with his arrival is giving him the space and opportunities to show himself more. I visualized him while we were at the library. He looked at me curiously but still won't talk any more than he has. He seems uneasy around passersby. I guess I need to make sure I have safe places to relax alone with him more often, and make sure I feel safe more often too. He can't feel safe if I don't. There's got to be a easier way. Wh
The Voice Currently Borrowing My Lips

Tucked Away

Spent last night asleep with Silas curled up against my chest. He's shy to speak still. He's warming up to affection though. Imagined I kissed him goodbye before I went to work. If you need to retreat for now Silas, I understand. I hope you'll visit me again soon. Next time, you can pick one of my plushies if you need something to hold onto. I'm always here if you want to say something or if you don't. You deserve nurture, you deserve your wounds to be dressed and if I'm the only warm thing you
The Voice Currently Borrowing My Lips

It's Just Us, You're Safe to Come Out

I spoke with the little boy in my head tonight (if you're reading this, the context is in my post titled When I Speak). He showed up and I visualized him peeking over my shoulder. He's scared but inquisitive. He's been using my voice and it seems like he's scared to be punished for it. I'm grateful you're here and talking to me, little one. I'm not angry. This is one of the only ways you can get help. I know nobody else sees you. But I know you're here and when you're ready, you can say what you
Chats With the Void

I miss your embrace. I miss your safety.

You... you're just in my memory now. I'll never hear those loving words from your voice again, with a surprise waiting for me in the passenger seat of your truck just so you could see my smile. Sometimes I touch the bed and wish you were with me again, like when I was tiny. I remember your warm skin and your rough face and your bear hugs. I wish I could read The Hobbit to you again while we both forgot about our own pains for awhile, just one last time. I wish I could've let you know that you we
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masongator in Chats With the Void

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Emotional Struggles

Numbness.

I should be asleep. I just can't right now. I feel like I need to get this off my chest so I can get some sleep. Lighten my mental load I guess. I hate how detached I've become. I don't feel like a victim, and I mean that in a bad sense. I know there's pain present, it's just that I don't feel it. I've never shed one tear over my assaults themselves. I cried for 2 straight hours Thursday after seeing my mom helpless from surgery and medicine. Again, it's because I hate her. Once my family l
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masongator in Emotional Struggles

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Processing

God, Please Just Let Me Cry.

That title is not an interjection or hyperbole. I found myself literally asking God to just please, please let me weep or cry or something from all of...this. I cannot do it, I have not allowed previous trauma to cause me to cry for a long time unless I am actively and severely triggered by something. But I feel so much like a fraud of a victim or survivor or whatever we're going to call it because I have not managed to shed a tear. I sat there welling up with tears multiple times the past few m
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masongator in Processing

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Processing

Debugging My Own Brain

Sometimes I pour over my own thoughts realizing just how warped my brain is. To whatever extent my own self awareness allows me to see it anyway. I have reflected so much on those external affirmations that it really was not my fault. That I was just a child doing what I thought would get the harassment to stop. As much as I appreciate hearing that type of reassurance, it kind of only gets at half the problem, and that's not anyone's fault really. It's one thing to hear it and feel less guilty,
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masongator in Processing

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Reflecting

Pain Is How I Know I'm Still Living.

Putting this down as a quick little vent before bed so I don't have to sleep with this on my chest. I keep thinking of how much it hurts realizing how many times I've been cast aside. There are probably more repressed memories of it that will crawl their way back to me. I get nightmares sometimes worrying that people won't believe me, even though I'm fully aware the call is coming from inside the house in those instances. I sometimes hear on my head my assaulter's sounds of pleasure when he took
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masongator in Reflecting

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Processing

Learning to Allow Myself Affection

I understand that to some this concept can come across as pretentious or like a non-issue...so I ask that if you read this, you're willing to hear me out on why I don't view it as such in my case. It has been a painful road to navigate trying to understand my assault and why my assaulter chose to do it to me. I'll likely never know his reasoning. Unfortunately, in this situation, your brain can take it upon itself to start filling in the gaps before you even realize it. At least for me anyway. N
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masongator in Processing

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Processing

I'd Give Anything to Be Able to Trust Someone.

TW: Assault and coercion will be mentioned, but not detailed. More context can be found in my thread in Sharing Your Story if you'd like to read it. One of the biggest things I've struggled with is realizing how much I was betrayed after I started remembering my assault. Not only that, but how deeply it colored my willingness to trust others without me even realizing it. For the majority of my life that I can remember, I've worried about getting close to people for fear that they will immed
masongator

masongator in Processing

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Processing

Picking Up Some Pieces

See tags for TWs. More context can be found on my post in Share Your Story, but it's not required to understand this. Today, I went to church and prayed for myself privately. It's actually the start of my "weekend" because my days off are Sunday and Monday; figured I'd try to make this week one where I'd try to focus on healing, and this is where I started. Yet I sat in the church, alone in my pew, singing hymns, reading out of the Nicene Creed, and I felt shame underneath it all. Who was I
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masongator in Processing

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