Dear life....I hate you

Today sucks, actually most days suck. But today just seems to be falling apart around me. Nothing is working. Therapy is hard, it was waay to intense and we focused on to much and now I'm overwhelmed. I'm sick, had to lose ANOTHER day of work because of that, and I can't even find a decent place to cry in this house because there's so many people and i have no privacy!

I went to my car. Broken down there. The kind of break down where you really need someone to hold you after but instead your alone...crying in a car. In fact I've never felt so alone before. My world crumples around me, my life turning to ash before my eyes and there's nothing I can do but let go and let it happen. I don't have the energy to try to put my life back together right now and I'm missing all of the important pieces to my puzzle. Maybe I will try again tomorrow. I just need to rest now.

Well...its done...

So I did it. I reported. It was completely different that I ever expected. I don't know if i had pictured Olivia Benson swooping down to protect me and catch the bad guy but the experience I got....the cop I got was about a bad as it gets. He was so mean and rude and insensitive...I guess he perfectly prepared me for if this goes to trial and I have to testify in open court. First let me just say, I had to wait for 3 or more hours in the advocates office for him to actually show up because my case wasn't an emergency. So I was already on edge. Then he came right as my advocate stepped out and refused to wait for her. The whole reason we waited there for so long and didn't go to the police station was because I wanted my advocate with me. He did the entire 1st half of the interview without her. I was so scared and nervous. Every-time I started crying he began to tap his pen loudly on his notebook to hurry me up. Then he started asking me things not related to my dad. Questions about my siblings, my mother etc. This would normally be fine if he hadn't wasted 60% of my statement time just talking about my mother. Another 15% he wasted on my brother, 15% more on the other person who raped me with my father. Yes all of this stuff is important but shouldn't we have talked about my father more?! I tried but i felt so rush and like i wasn't answering the questions like he wanted. He didn't even ask me if my father was around any other children that could be in danger. I had to squeeze in the fact that I have a 12-year-old niece that sees him. HE DIDN'T EVEN ASK?! Shouldn't the 1st thing he asks is if children are around him?!

He talked about my mom sooo much. How did she die? When? What did her death certificate say? Where did she work when she was alive? What drugs did she take? ETC ETC ETC Why waste so much time on someone who A. Wasn't my abuser and B. Is dead ? And this just makes me angry. When she was alive, EVERYTHING was about her. What she had overdosed on, what she drank to much of, DUI's, her going into Bipolar rage and going missing, getting hospitalized, ETC. No one ever cared about me. And now even in death she manages to make everything about her. She is really talented. I just needed it to be about me this one time and as usual she stole all the attention i so desperately needed.

The next thing that angered me: I didn't get to talk about any of the other abuse. All this cop wanted to focus on was the 1st rape at 4 and the other person that was involved. Why start on a witch hunt for someone whose face I don't even know when my dad is just right there? Walking around as a free man?

Then the cop got mad when I couldn't answer his questions like How long did that rape occur? How many minutes? I don't know...I was four. I couldn't tell time. But he got mad. And because I couldn't tell him how much blood was everywhere....I don't know it seemed like soo much. But AGAIN i was four...how can I know the amount now?

Then he asked me for my fathers information. I gave him his full name, DOB, city location, and my sisters info so she could give them his address. I even offered to give them his SSN....
Cop: "Well do you have his address?"
Me: "No but he lives in this city, can't you try to find him? His name isn't very common."
Cop: "No, how do you expect us to find him with out a valid address"
Me: "Contact my sister for it"
Cop: "Yeah well we are going to talk to her"
Me: "Your going to talk to him first tho right?"
Cop: "Not if we have to get his address from her"
Me: Can't that be done discreetly? You can get her to give you his contact info without telling her the reasons...you cant talk to her first! she will tell him. You have to talk to him first!"
Cop: "That's not how it works"

WHY? WHY isn't that how it works?! Why tip off the bad guy when they could just work a little harder to get his address a different way? He shouldn't know the cops are coming until they are there....And why can't the cops find him with all the info i provided. I told them the city...its a small population, he would be the only one with that name...cops find people who don't want to be found all the time....if he doesn't know there coming he wouldn't even be hiding. I am so confused and hurt right now. This is the system that's supposed to bring me justice? This cop was horrible but I'm an adult so I can partly deal with it...what if i really was 4 now...is this how he would treat me....just another man hurting me and making me feel worthless.


My heart hurts and I feel like a total failure

Panicking

I never thought I would find myself wishing I for a panic attack. But its been building for days and days, trying to pop up at times it shouldn't so I push it back down and avoid it. Now I so desperately need it to come out. I need one of those hysterical, over the top cries, where someone just holds onto you the entire time. I don't think I've ever needed to go to therapy as badly as I need to go right now. I'll be so relieved when the reporting is over. I've never been so terrified to speak before. I'm so shaky, and freezing, why am  i so cold? Two more days....I say that like in two days this is over. Yeah the initial reporting is over in two days..but this is just the beginning. How do I know if I'm ready for what comes next?

Reporting...

As hard of a decision that this was to make and as long as I've waited to do this, I know that I've made the right decision to report him. But I also know that by coming forward I have to be prepared. Prepared to lose even more then I already have. Lose the small bit of family that I have left in my sister and my niece. Lose control over this secret that I've been holding on to for so many years. But I will also gain a lot. By coming forward I'm free. I'm uplifting myself by taking my power back that he so violently stole from me. However to take my power back I have to speak. This has always been the  part of my journey. To just speak and say what happened.  Now I must tell police, advocates, and many others. I will probably have to tell them this over and over and over again. Yet I sit here wondering how on earth I can possible do this. How can I expose all of those ugly dark secrets to complete strangers? Secrets that I've never spoken of before, some of which I have never even brought myself to write about. How? I'm completely scared out of my mind. Yet also excited to finally tell someone my pain who can actually do something to bring me justice. Its a twisted place I'm in. Caught between wanting so badly to do this and thinking I should just continue to bury it, give up, and try my best to move on. I wish someone could tell me what the right thing to do was. This is one of those moments that I really wish I had a mother. Sometimes I'm okay, you know? I feel fine without her here, I've been guiding myself for so long it seems as if i never really needed her. But then I have moments like these. Moments that  it doesn't matter how old you are, all you need is to lay in bed with your mom as she rubs your head and lets you cry yourself to sleep. I need her arms right now comforting me.

Exposing My Truth

Everyday is a fight, to the death it feels. To simply survive, to be. I do so much work just to function. So much effort I put forth to do things that others take for granted.  Sleep has become one of my greatest demons, figuring out how to sleep, when to sleep, what will put me to  sleep fast, what will keep me asleep, what will keep me asleep but allow me to wake up if i need to from a nightmare, what will reduce nightmares, how to bring my anxiety level down before bed...i could go on all night. Something so simple as resting your head on a pillow and closing your eyes to drift off is something that brings me to tears. This is just one thing that is so greatly affected by what happened to me. And what about all the others? The daily flashbacks, panic attacks, and triggers? I suffer so much just to be alive, and what does he do? He lives his life.... There were no consequences for his actions against me. So I am left to put my life together after he broke it. I am left to hurt and work so hard while he does nothing. How is that just?
He deserves to have the entire world know what kind of man he is. He deserves to be publicly shamed. He deserves to be branded as the devil that he is. And I'm going to be the one to do this. To publicly shame him, brand him, and show the world who he is. I'm going to report him, tell police what hes done because I'm not weak anymore like that small child he once hurt. I am mighty and fierce and with the power of my army behind me I can do this. I've never had a support system like this before,i have never had so many people showing me love and cheering me on. I have all I need to do what I sought to do four years ago.

He can't hurt me anymore, I am untouchable.
I am not silent any longer, I want them all to hear my voice, and see my power, as I expose my truth.

Questions...

Some mornings I wake up and I ask "Why did this happen to me?" But you know what? No one ever answers me back. And if they did, what would they tell me? Would they say what other people have told me? That "Sometimes bad things happen to good people" or "Sometimes things happen that make you stronger. Help you grow." But you see answers like those do nothing because it still doesn't answer why. Why do some people get two parents that love them unconditionally and others don't? And what is unconditional love? Love without limits? Restrictions? Love without expecting anything in return? Why have I never had someone lovin me like this? More then anything I just want to understand. Why me? Why was I singled out? Why was my father so so angry? Do I posses this same type of anger? Is it locked far away, somewhere deep in me waiting to come out? Will it come out when or if I ever become a mother? What if I'm like him? Or what if I'm simply absent minded and weak like her? Allowing the same things to be done, not knowing or pretending not to know. Needed a man so badly that I miss whats in front of my own eyes. Their blood runs though me. I belonged to them. Am I different? Or more of the same, just waiting for the moment to unleash it? How can I be different when I came from such evil? Such Darkness? I was the light in that dark world but they sought to diminish me. Cover my rays. Did they succeed?

I just want to grow, and to become something more then they could have ever been. They wasted their lives hurting others. I want to spend mine uplifting others. Does that make me different? Or were my parents once like me? Did someone also diminish their light? Did someone destroy them the way they did me? Is my only fate to become them? What kind of things have to happen in your life for you to hurt you baby daughter that way, anyway, but especially that way? During it or after does nothing ever click saying "This is wrong" "STOP, THIS IS YOUR BABY, DON'T DO THIS"? I guess I shouldn't seek to understand what goes on inside the mind of a child rapist. I don't want to be able to understand because that would mean I'm like him.
I'm at a loss

Walking Dead

I am floating around this earth, a ghost, unnoticed, and empty.
Yet I leave footprints in the sand.
I breath, and I walk, my heart beating but I feel dead
All I had, every part of me was cut off.
Falling to the ground to disintegrate at the feet of the ones causing my pain
I was stuck in the body of this dead child unable to break free
But I grew, somehow
I transformed and became something else, someone else
I left her body there. I saw what those men were doing to her
So I floated away and she perished with her words stuck in the back of her throat
Words that formed screams, and screams that turned into begging
Begging to understand, begging for it to stop
Begging for an answer, but none came
Now I feel non-existent. Just a soul, traveling in search
In search of something, in search of life, in search of hope
Maybe still searching for an answer
I continue my search yet I find it difficult to move in this decomposed body
These hands are dead, these feet are dead, my heart is dead
My everything is dead
I must put that little one to rest, So I can breath
Closing her eyes, and crossing her hands across that dead heart
I release her
Awakening the spark of life back into my veins
It ignites like fire, then flows through me and down to my fingertips
Throwing all numbness, shame, and guilt in that coffin with her
I lower her body into the dark earth and say goodbye
I tell her I'm sorry no one ever saved her
Throwing dirt on her grave I walk away
I walk away knowing it's ok to feel
To be here, surviving, even tho she didn't
I can be alive for her, because she never got the chance
I can feel life pulling at my ankles begging me to join it and to simply let her rest
So I follow life, to breath, to walk, to keep my heart beating
Yet more then that.
To feel, to  love and be loved, to learn and to know
To remember and yet move forward
To feel not like a ghost but as this beautiful butterfly I have transformed into