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November Community Collaboration--This month's theme is: "My Survivor Bill of Rights Include..." ×
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About this blog

Informal letters & notes written to process. 

Entries in this blog

reflecting

To the Blame Inside of Me

I don't think you're something I'm ever going to see the end of. I sit in front of these tired memories and find you there, even still. I can look at fact after fact in my mind: No one is responsible for being victimized. It isn't reasonable to expect that doing something differently would have changed the outcome. They would have done it either way. Doing something "wrong" still doesn't justify someone else perpetuating assault. It isn't reasonable to expect pe
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selkiespot in reflecting

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reflecting

To the Volatile Perfectionist

I said something without thinking yesterday. I don't remember what it was. I was sober, and I was happy. I was laughing. That's all I really took from it. It didn't make much sense at the time to me, either. I usually fixate on what I say without thinking, scrutinizing it for any potential misgivings, any error to chastise myself over, and I'm coming up empty-handed. I just kept the feeling, mostly. Is that good? I don't say all of this to brag. I know what you do for a living. You're
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selkiespot in reflecting

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gratitude

To the Hungry Mouth

It's been difficult to find you again. After getting sick, and getting so caught up in my own head about getting better, I feel like I've lost a lot of myself. At least I'm still here to pick up the pieces. After all that's happened, I know that those pieces don't really go away. There are a lot of lies that I think I internalized about you. About us. Every time that you gagged when just trying to eat dinner - something well outside of your own control - and were met with anger. Frustration
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selkiespot in gratitude

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to these tattered insides

You feel broken nowadays. At times it's been difficult to even keep water down, lately. Even though you're able to, all you tell me is how much it hurts.  I know. I'm sorry. I tried. I kept trying, over and over.  They say that the body can remember things better than the mind. I do think of things like somatic flashbacks when it comes to that, but there's more that I think of, too. More that you keep on display, either internally or externally.  I remember when I poisoned yo
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feeling guilt after speaking

There are so many things that I need to do. So many things that I need to focus on. And every time I get stuck on something that isn't what I should be prioritizing... I go back to the same thing I always tell myself: "Not this thought. This one... This doesn't matter." My problem, I think, is when it all becomes that. I feel like almost none of my thoughts are productive anymore. Not to myself, nor to others. I tell myself the same things every time: No one wants to hear about how badly I
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reflecting

out of compassion for me

I feel like I have patience for nearly everyone but me, at this point. I don't know where that kindness for myself went - I think there was a time I managed to cultivate some, but it feels lost. Especially after getting as sick as I did, I think my brain is in a few more pieces than it was last month, and that empathy for myself is nowhere to be found lately. It's frustrating. I think of my father, and keep also thinking things like, "Well... his father was also horrible, and did awful thin
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to the ghosts that won't rest

I stumbled upon some older journal entries the other day. They were from notebook I had kept when going through trauma discovery with a specialized therapist for the first time... I skimmed a few pages before fully realizing what it was, and nearly immediately shut it after that. I still don't feel quite right, afterwards. There wasn't even much to glean from what I read, but I don't feel okay regardless. That's probably because of where else my head has been, though. It's been taking up mo
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reflecting

Keeping My Own Reflection in Mind

I tried to take a picture of myself for the first time in months.  I don't know how long it's been for certain - way too much time has passed and way too much has happened for that to even exist in my head anymore. I hate cameras. I hate being filmed, I hate being photographed, and I used to hate mirrors... Though as an adult, mirrors can feel strangely comforting. They're reminders to me that the past is over... Like the house around me, my reflection can serve as enough to know that
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To the Monster Under My Bed (thank you)

There's an older version of me that I've tended to try to forget about. He was most like my brother, I think... He learned from him, and took after him too. Before it became clear the kind of person my brother was, there was some assumption that things could be okay. That it was all actually fine. And he was able, for a time, to live that way. When I started to realize that things weren't fine at all, I kept trying to amputate that part of myself. He was too similar, and I couldn't han
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About the Imposter in My Bathroom Mirror

I've been in a weird place in recovery lately. I figured out a way to compose myself and exist as a single unit... But so much of my memory remains guarded. It feels impossible. It feels endless. But even then, if someone were to say something along the lines of, "That must've been scary," I just think to myself, well... Yeah, it must have been. But hell if I know, because it didn't happen to me... Only I guess it must have. I feel fake when I recount things, sometimes. Like I haven't
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reflecting

When I Left this Planet Behind

I keep thinking about what I can remember of that bathroom. I can remember a decent amount... What the tiles on the walls looked like, the painting on the wall, the windows, the layout. But the color of the floor remains a mystery to me. When I was scared that my father was going to kill me, I think a part of my brain decided that what felt the best about starving for air was the idea that I was actually drifting along in outer space.  Maybe it was the idea that even if I were to
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To the boy they silenced

Hey. I... I did forget about what happened to you. I don't know what words to use, really... Nor how to comfort you about what he did to us. You couldn't have done anything to stop it. I hope you realize that. I hope you realize that shame isn't yours to bear. I would understand, though, if you felt ashamed anyway. I know I do.  I used to think I was so misled. It was easier to believe that it was some strange nightmare, rather than a reason to fear the consequences of any mi
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To the girl who was left out to dry

Dear Margot, My breathing gets real shaky when I think about what happened to you. Us, I guess. But it doesn't always feel fair to say that, when there's so much I still don't understand. My breathing shakes, but it's still me breathing. We can both do that now, really... I don't know. I feel ashamed when I think about the way I felt about you before. The judgment... the embarrassment. I kept just... twisting it in my head. I confused what they told me with what I know and feel now, an
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reflecting

Some Bitter Pill

Out of all the bullshit I grew to accept over the years, it's... arguably worse, knowing that I'm probably not as crazy as they led me to believe.  It's when I remember smaller details that make it... actually more rational to believe than not, that I... crumple the hardest, sometimes. I should be glad. I don't know what this feeling actually is, though. It is a more difficult pill to swallow, I think.
reflecting

Fighting Insomnia

To whoever it may concern, I feel like I'm at a crossroads. I know what the pain is... It's hiding behind the first thing my younger self tried to talk about, something that I actually found myself immediately tearing down, when we last spoke. I wasn't even really thinking about it... I just said, "No... Actually, that doesn't make as much sense," in my own... misled way. Maybe just to keep that defense up for myself a little bit longer. The first thing they wanted to talk ab
reflecting

Taking Stock

I usually hate crying. It's something I was always shamed for, but I would be unable to control it much when I was younger. It makes me uncomfortable, being obviously upset. But when I'm alone with my thoughts, the dam breaks in unexpected ways sometimes, I guess. I was lost for a while. A lot of pain, a lot that I would rather not express.  And I started to realize that it wasn't all in my head... but in a way I was okay with, I guess. Because there were/are also other parts of m
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to my old growing pains

[Note to someone who was gone for quite some time. I think about her a lot, lately.] Hey, you. I wanted to thank you for a lot that I've been thinking about lately. It's funny that we got this far, I think. Maybe that's not a normal word to use, but I'm not really a normal person, I guess. I do laugh when I think about what happened to us, and understand how unlikely it was that I ever would have made it this far without you. Thank you so much. I don't blame you for doin
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venting

Feeling sick

I have nothing to say to you anymore. I have nothing left in my head, apparently. I just had to clean up in there again... Someone sure left a hell of a mess. I have nothing for you. All that I still have is for me, now. I'm learning how to be selfish in a way that... isn't, actually.  It's not selfish to breathe. Or to eat food, or to drink water. Or to wake up in the morning without wanting to put myself down already. To make a mistake without hurting myself over it. I
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venting

Human Waste

I dont know what to say to you anymore. Or even about you. I hate that I cared at all... but that "care" had many names, over the years. Adoration. Respect. Trust. Comraderie. "Love." But you understood more than you let on. And im going to be excruciatingly honest about this: as someone who has genuinely struggled with dissociation, emotional issues, & a personality disorder of my own as a result of what you did to me? I dont care anymore. I do not give a single shi
gratitude

5 (Unaddressed) Thank You Notes

1. Thank you for carving the watermelon for us. I know that it was inconvenient, but it means a lot that I can just grab a piece when I need. And thank you for reminding me to eat it... & for interrupting me when I berate myself for failing to feed myself with... of all things, a warm bowl of leftovers. It means so much. 2. Thank you for teaching me that just a few preserved chat logs are somehow enough to keep a loved one's memory alive. I stoke the fires every once in a while, and eve
reflecting

to my childhood lamplight

I still think of you sometimes. It was such a weird victory, when you reappeared on my nightstand. A welcome addition to a frightening place. Welcome back... I made it too. When I moved, I didnt get the opportunity to bring you with me. I'm sorry about that. I always felt like I never used you as much as I would have liked.  I'm doing okay nowadays. Sort of. Better than my worst, at least. God knows you've seen me at my worst. I weirdly miss you more than almost anyone in my
venting

Mom

Hey. I had something pretty big happen yesterday. A bad thing... The kind of thing you would say was my fault, though. Probably. It could've been avoided by Some cosmic happenstance, so... my fault then. It wouldn't have been worth telling you anyway. That's what I tell myself. I'm scared. For you, sometimes. For me, sometimes. I'm always scared. I thought I could stop being scared like that, but I can't, no matter what I do I'm scared about what's gonna happen to you  I
venting

is that what it felt like?

sometimes i feel like the pain of a dislocated body part. you don't want to understand it. it makes it hurt worse, understanding what's wrong. and standing on the side of the road, waiting for you to meet my gaze as i waved goodbye for what we both knew would be the last time, i felt like what i was: an unwanted bag of bones drifting to places they shouldn't be. i didn't understand how much rearranging i would need to do to my insides until i was thousands of miles away from you.
venting

Rejected Letter Ideas (addressed to a lot of different people)

Lot of thoughts in my head lately. I wrote a letter I'll never send the other day, and it helped a lot. But I have a lot of people I have a lot of feelings about. Each of these can apply to a different person in my life, but a lot overlap too. Some of these letter ideas are considerably worse than others. Hey, you dead yet? Let's start over. I think I'd like to start over. I think that I figured it out this time, and I think that I'm in control now. I think that I can have one mor
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