How Can This Feel So Real?

My wrists hurt, my hands are numb
I look down reaching for my suffering
I examine, looking at each carefully
Feeling it's pain with my other hand
I search for the ropes that tie them
Nothing exists
The skin tingles and pulsates beneath my fingertips
How can this feel so real?

Screaming and choking
I search my neck
Pulling  and tugging at it
I need to release his hands that are killing me
I search
Nothing exists
His grip so tight around me..
How can this feel so real?

I lay curled up on the floor, gasping for air
Crying uncontrollably, unable to move
I am being torn in two
Its an invisible rape.
I am alone, I am safe
Yet...i feel so small and defenseless
His weight crushes me, I cant breath
He isn't here
He doesn't exist anymore
My body is shattered into a million pieces
How can this feel so real?


I lay motionless
The world spins around me.
I am dead now
There is no pain where the dead reside.
There they have butterflies, rainbows and laughter.
I want to join them. I run to the dead ones.
They welcome me with open arms
I let go
This doesn't exist
My body is not ruined and broken anymore

I wake up

I ran away today..

Three days of body memories, flashbacks, and crying on the floor in a ball. I couldn't take it anymore so I ditched work at noon and ran to a friend. Another survivor (the one who did my tattoo) who understands. We spent the day cooking and dancing to oldies. It went from being the worse day to one of the best. I am so happy that i have such amazing and supportive people in my life. I wouldn't be where I am without them.
And most of my body memories went away while I was there. Tho their coming back now, I know I can handle it because I'm stronger then these memories. My wrists may hurt and my hands may be numb but no rope binds them anymore. I just have to keep telling myself that. That rope was there a long time ago. Now I'm free and these feelings are in my head. I will get through this. I will get through this.

When my tattoo was new

When i look down at my wrist I have hope. It reminds me where I've come from and how hard I fought to get where I am today. Its about this POEM but I'm not asking for these things to change anymore. I have the power and control. This is my life now. Not his.

Triggered

Can't stop crying, everything hurts. It feels like there's a boulder on my chest. Its too painful inside my head right now i need to run away.

Writing Exercise: Name something that you are proud of today

Today I looked down at my leg and saw my burn scar that is usually hidden and got reminded of the abuse and got very triggered. I am proud because instead of keeping my triggers to myself and hiding my emotions and feelings I reached out to a friend for help. A few months ago I might not have done that. I am proud that I can see my growth and progress in small everyday things.

Writing Exercise: 101 Things I wouldn't change about myself

Part one:
1. I wouldn't change my religion and faith
2. I wouldn't change my ability to care for others so much
3. I wouldn't change my curiosity for the world around me
4. I wouldn't change my resilience
5. I wouldn't change my love of dance
6.I wouldn't change my love for so many different types of music
7. I wouldn't change my obsession with art
8. I wouldn't change my love of flowers
9. I wouldn't change my taste in movies
10. I wouldn't change my love for reading and knowledge
11. I wouldn't change my love of writing
12. I wouldn't change my survival skills
13. I wouldn't change my creativity
14. I wouldn't change my strong-willed determination
15. I wouldn't change my curly kinky afro hair
16. I wouldn't change my long legs
17. I wouldn't change my tattoo
18. I wouldn't change my laughter
19. I wouldn't change my ability to do what makes me happy and not caring what others think
21. I wouldn't change my sense of humor
22. I wouldn't change my kindness
23. I wouldn't change my silliness
24. I wouldn't change my inability to laugh at times when i should be embarressed
25. I wouldn't change my inability to sleep without a night light and my favorite stuffed animal

Support group tomorrow

Tomorrow is support group and I am the long share person. Meaning I go first, its for up to 15 minutes and I can receive supportive feedback afterward. The topic is: I am able to grieve my childhood and mourn the loss of those who failed me.


I think this is a good topic for me because I have been working on this step for a while on my own. It will be nice to get support from a room full of people as i work on it. It's so hard tho to accept that I was failed by so many who were supposed to love me. It changes the view of them in my head. Like my mother for instance. In my head I've always seen her as a woman lost. Not knowing how to care properly because she was never shown. I excused her behaviors with her mental illness and her own sadness. But her actions can't be excused, I was hers and her job was to keep me safe yet she failed. Failed so horribly. Then she died and never even had the chance to attempt to make anything right. Tho its impossible to ever right a wrong when you don't believe a wrong has even occurred. My mother is right there at the beginning of my pain. I never really mourned her death but I mourn the loss of what could have been. A mother who could see the pain in my eyes and do everything in her power to save me. But I never had that and I never will. I was an innocent child who loved her parents unconditionally. I say unconditionally because I never expected anything in return. They showed me early enough what it mean to lack basic things in life. I never even expected for them to love me back. I just wanted to make them happy and proud of me. So I did the best I could.

So many people failed me. So many saw what was happening or how bad things were getting and did nothing. Those who did anything were ones who wished to contribute to the pain I was already suffering. If one of them, just one had stepped up and done something thing to stop the continuing of evil things could have been so different. All I needed was to be saved by just one person. But no one was brave enough. We as people upon seeing tragedy like to sit on the sidelines and watch. I liken it to seeing a car accident. Everyone slows down to watch but very few will ever actually stop their cars, stop their lives for a moment, get out and rush to assistance. Because that's how this world works. And my life was like a terrible car accident. One of those horrific head on collisions. Leaving people bloody and battered and broken. So no one ever choose to slow down and assist. Then I just got lost in the heap of other boys and girls who no one ever saved. And i stayed that lost child, until I learned how to find and save myself. 

So now its my time to do what no one else ever did. Give that broken child a voice, show her love and save her from the awfulness that surrounds her. Everyday that I write or speak it or cry  about it I let go of a little bit more of the pain that kept that child silent for so long. A friend once told me that what happened is the same as if I got into a horrible accident causing bits of metal to log under my skin all over my body. Every-time I speak its like pulling out a piece of the metal and watching the wound heal. Sometimes I'm surprised at how much was actually lodged in there....as much as I remove there is always more. Sometimes it almost seems like their multiplying. Or going deeper and forming a greater wound. But I am stronger now then that child stuck in that horrible accident called life.

 So i grieve my childhood by saying goodbye to her. Like having a funeral without a body. Similar to what I wrote here HERE Ive said my goodbyes to her in my mind I think the next step for me in this process is to do something. A real something to say good bye. Because I owe her so much. I wouldn't be the woman I am today without her fighting so hard to endure.

Grieving for me is more then just walking around crying and wearing black. Its a chance to honor the deceased, remember them, and honor who them were. I exist today because of a child whose spirit had to die inside of a house filled with rage and anger. I wouldn't be who I am had all those things not happened so I wish to honor who she was. She was smart, funny, loving, trusting, caring, and gentle. She had the ability to love more then she was ever loved herself. She was inquisitive and wanted to know about the world around her. Why was the grass green? Why was the sky blue? She loved asking questions even if they only one she could ask was god. She was independent and wise beyond her years. She was resilient and found ways to smile even when there was nothing to smile about, even when they tried to beat the smile  off of her lips. She lives on inside of me. I love her and want her to be a peace now.

Goodbye little one and thank you for fighting.

Some inspiration

I'm Angry

So today in therapy we talked about anger. I feel like I get angry at a lot of small things because I'm not addressing the actual reasons I'm angry. So we started on this today, not even touching most of it. I never realized how angry i actually am, and I never allow myself to feel like I deserve to be that angry. But I do. And I am tired. So sick of tired of being angry with myself. When the anger belongs with him, when it belongs with everyone who hurt or failed me. Because I was a child. A defenseless baby given the weight of the world to carry before she could even walk. I DO deserve to be angry. So here's my anger:

I'm angry that I was born into a world without love. I'm angry that I ever thought that what happened was my fault. I'm angry that my dad raped me. I'm angry that he did it everyday. I'm angry that he let his friends rape me. I'm angry that they paid him. I'm angry that he hit me. I'm angry that he confused me for his wife instead of his child. I'm angry that he treated me like property. I'm angry that I came from him. I'm angry that he's the one that hurt me. I'm angry that he used my love and trust in him against me. I'm angry that he thought buying me pretty things and nice toys would make up for what he did. I'm angry that I took those gifts. I'm angry that my mother pretended that she didn't know what was happening to me. I'm angry that he sometimes touched me in the bed right next to her. I'm angry that no matter how hard i pulled on her arm to wake her up and make he see what he was doing, she never did. I'm angry that she drank and took so many pills that she was blinded by what was right in front of her face. I'm angry that she was my responsibility. I'm angry that she hit me, tried to stab me or suffocate me anytime i hid her pills. I'm angry i ever cared about her life enough to hide them. I'm angry that I had to sleep with a bed against my door. I'm angry that that wasn't enough to keep the evil out. I'm angry no one saved me. I'm angry that so much responsibility was placed on my tiny shoulders. I'm angry I had to keep these secrets. I'm angry that I let them make me angry. I'm angry that I thought I did something wrong. I'm angry at my shame. And I'm angry that he ever thought it was okay to try to destroy me.

I'm sure there's more anger but that's all i can feel right now

Great weekend completing several different things on my list! Finally some fun. Its time to get back to reality but i needed this break. So lucky to have such amazing people in my life to help me survive and have fun even if its only in small doses. #happy #grateful