Its been so long since I've written anything. It's like I've been afraid of my own words. Afraid to let them out because that makes them to real. It always seems so much easier to hold everything in and try to ignore it. But in reality you never realize how hard it actually was until you let it flow out of you. I'm overflowing. And I'm exhausted. Without therapy right now I'm back to having only you to talk to diary. No one in the real world understands me. I feel like an outsider to all of them. I feel like i don't know how to even be alive anymore. How can it hurt so much to just exist? Sometimes I forget for awhile. Sometimes I can laugh and run and play and forget and be this other girl. And then there's a shift, a sudden change in my universe and it all comes crashing back down reminding me of where I came from and what happened to me. It's bad enough to just deal with life everyday, money stress and just trying to make it in this world but then added on top of all of that is the reality of what I went through and not having any family there to catch me when I feel like I'm falling. I can't stop these dreams and flash backs and the body memories are back. They went away, why did they come back? I just need someone to sit with me and listen to me and hold me and tell me it's okay even tho I know that it isn't.
Last night I dreamed I was on an airplane flying home and it was night time. I got off the plane and had to catch a bus. By the time I got to my stop it was after midnight and I had a long walk to my house. In the darkness I saw three men and knew that they looked suspicious but couldn't avoid walking past them anyways. So I went as fast as I could, trying to avoid their stares and the smiles on their faces. But as expected they chased me, caught me, and took turns raping me. Then I ran away barefoot, clothing torn, and my body broken. I ran away like I did from my dad's house 5 years ago. And they took their turns on me like his friends used to.
I'm so sick and tired of being surrounded by rape. Its all I think about, it's all I remember. Its like I wasn't even ever a person, it's like I was just born a rape victim. Born to be hurt, born to cry and scream my muted screams where no one hears me. Sometimes I feel like I'm nothing more then this. As hard as I try and fight and work and grow it never seems to be quite enough because in the end this always comes back to haunt me. Stop haunting me, please let me sleep.
This is a diary about me, about my life, and about the abuse that I suffered. I write not for pity or attention. I write to find my voice and shed light on issues that are too often kept locked away in darkness, deep in the minds of their victims. I have held my secrets for too long, so I share them with you now, both friends and strangers so I can ease some of the weight that i carry on these shoulders.
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Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Today I feel completely alone. I wish I had someone here. I miss my mom. I need someone here. I get no hugs, never any human contact. I need arms wrapping me up. Arms lovin me and keepin me safe. Why am I so alone when others have so much love surrounding them? Today is a day where im just tired of pretending to always be "okay" or "fine". I feel empty. I just need something. Something important is missing. What is that something?....family. I just need that something today. People can not survive without love. Yet I go on everyday. I just need it for one day. Then I will be "okay" for awhile. I'll be "fine" for a little longer.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Writing Exercies: 101 things I wouldn't change about myself
Part one:
101 things I wouldn't change about myself P1
Part two:
26. I wouldn't change how unique I am
27. I wouldn't change how outspoken I am
28. I wouldn't change the way I sometimes make up words and have my own language
29. I wouldn't change my ability to make almost anything funny
30. I wouldn't change my ability to make most people laugh
31. I wouldn't change my weird since of unmatchable style
32. I wouldn't change my love of trying new things
33. I wouldn't change my compassion
34. I wouldn't change my obsession with buying books even if i don't always read them
35. I wouldn't change the way my life turned out because it made me who I am
36. I wouldn't change my goofiness
37. I wouldn't change my obsession with cleaning
38. For that matter I wouldn't change my obsession with most things. It's who I am
39. I wouldn't change my crazy personality with best friends
40. I wouldn't change my wariness of new situations. It keeps me safe
41. I wouldn't change my intuition
42. I wouldn't change my ability to read other people emotions
43. I wouldn't change my hopefulness
44. I wouldn't change my eagerness to learn
45. I wouldn't change my spontaneous attitude
46. I wouldn't change the love I have for children and how badly I want to be a mother
47. I wouldn't change being able to sense things most people can't (I'm like a dog haha)
48. I wouldn't change the fact that I told my story, and that I keep telling it
49. I wouldn't change my sarcasm
50. I wouldn't change my wild imagination
101 things I wouldn't change about myself P1
Part two:
26. I wouldn't change how unique I am
27. I wouldn't change how outspoken I am
28. I wouldn't change the way I sometimes make up words and have my own language
29. I wouldn't change my ability to make almost anything funny
30. I wouldn't change my ability to make most people laugh
31. I wouldn't change my weird since of unmatchable style
32. I wouldn't change my love of trying new things
33. I wouldn't change my compassion
34. I wouldn't change my obsession with buying books even if i don't always read them
35. I wouldn't change the way my life turned out because it made me who I am
36. I wouldn't change my goofiness
37. I wouldn't change my obsession with cleaning
38. For that matter I wouldn't change my obsession with most things. It's who I am
39. I wouldn't change my crazy personality with best friends
40. I wouldn't change my wariness of new situations. It keeps me safe
41. I wouldn't change my intuition
42. I wouldn't change my ability to read other people emotions
43. I wouldn't change my hopefulness
44. I wouldn't change my eagerness to learn
45. I wouldn't change my spontaneous attitude
46. I wouldn't change the love I have for children and how badly I want to be a mother
47. I wouldn't change being able to sense things most people can't (I'm like a dog haha)
48. I wouldn't change the fact that I told my story, and that I keep telling it
49. I wouldn't change my sarcasm
50. I wouldn't change my wild imagination
Writing Exercise: My Safe Place
Today I joined a Write For Recovery Workshop and one of the exercises was to write about our safe places~
My Safe Place
When I was a little girl I dreamed that my parents were not my real parents. Somehow these people, imposters, had gotten a hold of me and my real family was out there somewhere searching for me. My real parents were a King and a Queen from a magical land far far away and I was their princess. We lost each other and I knew that they were still looking for me. Every little girl they saw must have reminded them of me. So I drew pictures of crowns and the magical land and I taped them to my window because I just knew that they would find me. They would drive down they street and see those pictures and they would know that that's the house that I was in. They would pull up to my house in a long white limo, and I would run to them and they would take me away. They would take me away from all the anger, hurt, fear and pain that this fake family had shown me. And I would return to my kingdom. Once again I would live in that giant castle. The castle that had 200 rooms and long long stairways that took me and mommy forever to climb. There I had new siblings and we all got along. We played all day in the orchard, rode our unicorn pets through the forest, and splashed in the ponds that surrounded the yard. There was green grass as far as your eyes could see, and the weather was always perfect. Flowers blossomed always and none ever died. The flowers surrounded the back yard and some were tall enough that you could play hide-in-seek in them. There were magical fairies that played with us and would keep me company while I hid from my siblings. I would tell the fairies my secrets and they were my best friends.
Inside the house mother was always busy with something. She cooked us the best foods and cleaned the house so we never got sick. She would read us stories and sing us lullabies. This was my favoriate part of the day, sitting in her lap as she sung to me before bed, rocking me ever so gently in the rocking chair until slowly I started to drift off to sleep. Tucking me in and kissing my head I felt safe here, safe enough to sleep. I know nothing bad would happen. There were no worries in this magical land. There was no violence here and all that surrounded was love. This magicial land and all its splender kept me going through some of the worst times. Though I knew it wasn't real, the hope was enough in the moment. Every night I would pray that my real family would finally knock on the door and bring me out of this house of terror. That they would save me from the pain and let me be a child, and I would run into their arms and forever I would stay. Sometimes I still pray for them to come, sometimes I still need arms to run into.
My Safe Place
When I was a little girl I dreamed that my parents were not my real parents. Somehow these people, imposters, had gotten a hold of me and my real family was out there somewhere searching for me. My real parents were a King and a Queen from a magical land far far away and I was their princess. We lost each other and I knew that they were still looking for me. Every little girl they saw must have reminded them of me. So I drew pictures of crowns and the magical land and I taped them to my window because I just knew that they would find me. They would drive down they street and see those pictures and they would know that that's the house that I was in. They would pull up to my house in a long white limo, and I would run to them and they would take me away. They would take me away from all the anger, hurt, fear and pain that this fake family had shown me. And I would return to my kingdom. Once again I would live in that giant castle. The castle that had 200 rooms and long long stairways that took me and mommy forever to climb. There I had new siblings and we all got along. We played all day in the orchard, rode our unicorn pets through the forest, and splashed in the ponds that surrounded the yard. There was green grass as far as your eyes could see, and the weather was always perfect. Flowers blossomed always and none ever died. The flowers surrounded the back yard and some were tall enough that you could play hide-in-seek in them. There were magical fairies that played with us and would keep me company while I hid from my siblings. I would tell the fairies my secrets and they were my best friends.
Inside the house mother was always busy with something. She cooked us the best foods and cleaned the house so we never got sick. She would read us stories and sing us lullabies. This was my favoriate part of the day, sitting in her lap as she sung to me before bed, rocking me ever so gently in the rocking chair until slowly I started to drift off to sleep. Tucking me in and kissing my head I felt safe here, safe enough to sleep. I know nothing bad would happen. There were no worries in this magical land. There was no violence here and all that surrounded was love. This magicial land and all its splender kept me going through some of the worst times. Though I knew it wasn't real, the hope was enough in the moment. Every night I would pray that my real family would finally knock on the door and bring me out of this house of terror. That they would save me from the pain and let me be a child, and I would run into their arms and forever I would stay. Sometimes I still pray for them to come, sometimes I still need arms to run into.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Alien Behavior
I feel like I don't belong on this planet. Like I am an alien and everyday I wake up and put this human suit on. I zip it up, look in the mirror, adjust it, and go out and enter the world. Desperately trying to blend with the other civilians. I don't understand their language, or their struggles that seem so big to them, yet so small to me. I don't get them, and they can not see the little green alien monster that I am inside.They see what I show them. A regular girl that hides behind a smile. I have them all fooled. They think I am like them. But I come from a different type of world. A very dark a scary place. A wasteland full of trash and rotting things. Everyone is angry there and everyone is unkind. Their are other girls aliens like me there and they go by names like Dirty, Filthy, and Shame. My name on that planet was Ugly because that what I felt inside. That's what those unkind people told me I was. I hated that horrible planet. 18 years of my life I wasted there. But then I grew up and I moved far away. The people here don't understand what it's like to live in a world that could be filled with such hurt. Or what its like to be named Ugly, Filthy, or Dirty. We aliens work so hard to fit in, be like everyone, not stand out, or be judged for what we suffered or from where we come from but...sometimes that mask we put up, our human suit slowly starts to slip off. Revealing parts of who we really are. And sometimes when people see this, people that do not understand, they get scared. What we have gone through makes others uncomfortable. Some choose to walk away from us, leaving us when we need them most. When this happens I build my human suit tougher. Shielding more of me and pretending to be this new person. But if I need to pretend to keep these people in my life...Do I even really want them there? This suit I carry weighs me down. I need people who don't care where I come from, or how different I am. I need them to just care about me. The real me. Not who I try to be for them. I need people that will help take the weight of the world off my shoulders. If I am different, if I am a little green alien not like everyone else then I think its okay to be who i am. It's okay to be different. I will never return to that place I came from. This is my home now and I don't want to blend anymore. I want to stand out. And I want to support all of the other people out there that don't fit in either. By being different we form a solid union of uniquely similar people. We are all different and that makes us all the same. And we should all be able to live without judgements. Not having to hide where we come from or be ashamed of a life we had no control over. I'm tired of hiding me. I am who I am. I come from where I come from. You either except me or you don't. You either love me or you don't.
Friday, March 22, 2013
I went to an art workshop (hosted through my support group) it was called the I Can project. We write out I Can and I Can't statements and destroy the I Can't and use the I Can's to make some form of art. I made a tree and In case you can't read my words on the photo my I Can's say: I can be loved, I can find love, I can dream, I can have a future, I can be safe, I can speak, I can grow, I can be happy, I can enjoy life, I can live in the moment, I can trust, I can find peace, I can stop expecting the worst, I can create, and I can be who I am. Then the I Can't statements are the ones falling off the tree on to the ground. I only wanted to put a couple. They say I can't be happy, I can't trust people, and I can't talk about my past...so those aren't even true anymore but that's how I felt before. (the whole point of this project is to include your hands in the actual art) so I did a cut out over it in tissue paper...kinda like i'm holding on to all those I Can statements. Definitely want to do this again. It was very empowering.
Dear Diary...I'm Falling
Do you ever just feel like you falling? Like when your having a dream and you fall off a cliff and you wake up kicking and trying to grab hold of something. That's how I feel when I'm awake. Like I'm not really here. Like the ground suddenly just shifts from under me and I fall, and I'm constantly kicking and searching for something to grab hold of. Something or someone to save me. But I just keep falling. Sometimes It's like I'm falling into a never ending tunnel. I'm being swallowed up by the earth. These dark memories wash over me and I start to fall to my death and there's nothing to drag me out and save me. I am so tired of kicking and fighting and always searching for that thing to save me. What if that thing doesn't even exist? What if I'm wasting my time and all of my energy just grabbing at thin air? I wait and I wait and I wait for the big SMACK. The sound it makes when I've stopped falling. When all that pain is finally over but that never happens. Something always pulls me back up, helping me gain my footing again. But why? Why wont it let the pain just be over? What is saving me when I feel like I can not even save myself? Why am I here fighting so hard everyday, fighting to just exist? Everyday seems like effort to just be. Breathing and existing, carrying on in this world takes so much effort. Why am I fighting so hard for a future that most times seems so bleak and unsure. What If this is my forever? What If forever I stay this broken, hurt, sad, little shell of a person...if I do then what is my purpose for fighting so hard? I wish someone could tell me. Help me understand. Tell me that one day things will be okay. That one day I will be stronger, wiser, better. And soon I won't feel like I'm falling anymore but like I am solidly placed in this world. That my life has a meaning, that all my fighting, and suffering, and searching, and agony was not in vain.
For whatever reason I keep going. And I don't walk I run. I don't know why I run but I've been running for 23 years. I run knowing that that cliff can appear at any moment, knocking me down, sucking me in to the darkness. But I always make it out. Then I start running again. Running away from the past and all the memories from it. I don't know why I run. I don't know why I fight. I don't know why I continue to search, but I do. Maybe one day I will know why. Maybe finally I will reach that destination that my legs so desperately want to take me to.
For whatever reason I keep going. And I don't walk I run. I don't know why I run but I've been running for 23 years. I run knowing that that cliff can appear at any moment, knocking me down, sucking me in to the darkness. But I always make it out. Then I start running again. Running away from the past and all the memories from it. I don't know why I run. I don't know why I fight. I don't know why I continue to search, but I do. Maybe one day I will know why. Maybe finally I will reach that destination that my legs so desperately want to take me to.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Therapy No More
Wednesday was my last day of therapy. My sessions ran out with her and now its time for me to move on to someone else. But I haven't found anyone else yet. I thought it would be easier to say goodbye. I didn't realize it would be like this. How do you say goodbye to someone who kept you alive? How do you even tell someone that they helped keep you alive? I don't know where I would be if I hadn't started coming to therapy but it wouldn't have been in a good place. I just.... I finally found someone to talk to that listened to me, someone that i could tell all this awfulness to instead of keeping it locked up like i normally do and now that has been taken away from me. How am i supposed to trust someone else with these horrible secrets? I don't understand why everything is changing all at the same time right now. And I'm not ready to be away from her. It's too soon but I have no choice. I tried to be strong, I didn't let myself cry in there. When she asked me how I felt about it I just said It sucked. Then I broke later. When I was alone. I can't let anyone else see how dependent I am on her or the therapy because I don't wanted to feel like a freak. I just want to be normal, whatever that is. I am just so tired of everyone leaving me. And my mind just can't comprehend how someone who has been such a huge part of my life and healing can now be someone I never talk to again. I can't just never talk to her again...How will I survive? Ugh..I feel like a crazy person... Why can't I just get over it? Why am I crying so much? I knew it wasn't going to last forever....I wish I could just get over it and move on. I need to stop being so dependent on therapy and people. Because in the end they all leave...they only one I can trust is myself.
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