Emotional

    This month has been very difficult for me. I have been very Emotional. The weather hasn’t helped much as you can see from the picture. The days have been cold, gloomy, and short. Foggy at times and rainy as well. Most days are cloudy, very  few days have been sunny.

     I feel: Empty. Alone. Sad. Shameful. Frustrated . Angry. Doubtful. Hurt. Raw. Confused. Afraid. Helpless. Dirty. Betrayed. Suffocating. Broken Down. A Mess. Pain. Imprisoned.

Celebrating Is Much Worse Than Having It Forgotten

     December has been very difficult for me, my birthday. It was supposed to be my day. My 13^th Birthday. It was a happy day. I had come home from Young Life, it was 11:00 pm. That horrible cold night, many years ago. The night he came into me. The night he decided to take my virginity. The night I didn’t fight back. The terrible night I wished I had never been born. 

     How I wish I had just died. I was so terrified. I didn’t know what to do. His filthy body covering me. His rough hands rubbing me all over. His disgusting breath as he whispered how much I had grown up. “Don’t cry, lay still! Be a good girl.” How could I not cry? It hurt so bad. The throbbing burning pain. “You’re a good girl.” I dreaded it. “Don’t fight!” I didn’t want to. “I am not going to hurt you, but I will kill you if I thought you were talking to anybody.”

     Damn him!!! I hated it. I just wanted it to end so bad! So I was a good girl and did everything he told me. I did it over and over!! I was only a child.

     Today I still live with the voices, the scars, and the screams. I can’t forget the threats. I carry his madness, and perverted distorted acts in my heart. My soul is filled with anger and pain. I am ashamed and angry at my self for letting him do it. All I want to do for my birthday is run away and hide. I want to run away as far as possible from everything. I want to be free from all this hurt. I want to hide, find a rock and go under it. I don’t want anybody close. I just want to be left alone. How I wish I could just disappear, but no matter how much I try to hide or run away from it, it will always be there. I would think that as time pass, it would get better. It hasn’t.

     It’s been years and it still feels as if it happened yesterday. I hate it. I hate him. The reminders are everywhere. Every year the same pain. I feel sad and angry. No matter what I do. I hate it, I hate feeling this way. I don’t think anything can help me fill this darkness. The deep down hurt and disgust. I’m trying so damn hard to fight all this, but it is becoming to hard and frustrating. Why did this happen? Why did he hurt me? How can I just get on with my life? He will never know what it is like to live this way, to go through this every birthday while he is out there living his normal life. I can’t forget. I try to pretend this madness never happened. I don’t want to believe it. I want to forget. To celebrate my birthday is much worse than having it forgotten.

Today I Said A Little Prayer

I have been thinking of the miscarriage I had four years ago. The baby would have been 4 years old, November 27^th. Hard for me to accept that I could have had a child that age. He or she would have been in school by now. How would it had been like? I don’t know. It has been years since the miscarriage, every year comes and goes and I try not to place any thought to it.
Since the day of the miscarriage, I had suppressed all my emotions. I try not to feel anything for it. I was so sad, when I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t want to accept the pregnancy, so for me the miscarriage was good news. Don’t get me wrong, I do love children, but I didn’t want any until later in life, when I was in a stable relationship. When I had worked out some issues in my life and I knew I could provide a child with love.

I look back and remember feeling so relieved that I no longer had to carry that child. His child. After the D&C, I went home from the hospital and slept. The next day I went to work and carried out with my life as if nothing happened. I don’t remember feeling anything. I was in a daze. It was so surreal. If I did, I just worked through it. I tried to keep myself busy, so that I didn’t have to think about it.

Every November, I go about as if nothing. I try not to think about it. I just Thank God that he took it away. Sounds evil, but that is what has kept me somewhat sane.

This year has been different. Maybe that emptiness that I have felt for years is because I am grieving the loss of it. I never allowed myself to grieve. Never aloud myself to feel angry. I have never cried for it. I made myself believe that since it was never born, that I need not feel anything for it.

I have been feeling sad and angry about this. Sad because I loss a part of me. I loss my child. I start thinking about what it would have been like if this baby had been born and I cry. I think of how different things would have been. I wonder if I would have had a baby girl or boy. I have this empty hallow feeling inside. This emptiness that nothing can comfort. No matter how much I cried the emptiness is still there. The anger comes from not allowing myself to feel anything. For being so immature. I am also angry for having felt such hate towards this innocent baby.

Today I said a little prayer for him. I allowed myself to cry for the first time. To grieve my loss. I grieve not having had the chance to hold him. I allowed myself to feel for my baby. I apologized for not wanting to feel for his loss and saying that I didn’t want him. I am not a terrible person, I would have loved my baby no matter what.

A Least You're Alive

     “At least you’re alive.” Someone once told me this. Alive?!! I keep on trying to wrap my brain around this. Yes, I am alive. Yes, I have a whole life ahead of me. Yes, I can choose how to live my life from now and in the future. But can you actually call this “a live”?!

     I get so angry when I think of this, “you’re alive”. I’m alive!! Wow. I am alive, but what kind of life is this?!! I understand, some victims don’t even survive their attack. I did, how lucky! Sometimes I wished that he had killed me. I know it sounds bad, but he killed a part of me that night he came into me. He continued to kill a part of me every single night there after.

   What kind of a life is this, when most of the time I can’t understand me? Some days I am fine, while most are as if living a nightmare. I can’t sleep at nights. And when I do, I wake up from nightmares. Horrible vivid nightmares, that make me physically sick the whole day. I hate feeling scared. Looking over my shoulder all the time. Not trusting anyone. Living with the fear of getting hurt. Sleeping with a knife under my bed, just in case. Not opening the door to anyone in fear that it might be him. Not answering the phone for fear of hearing his voice. Avoiding going out by myself for fear that I might run into him. I am so scared of life. I try not to show emotion, because if I do someone might take advantage of it. If I let my guard done, I will get hurt. If I love, it might get interpreted as I want to have sex. If I smile and laugh, I am having to much of a good time and I don’t deserve to be happy. I am even so afraid to cry, because if I do I am afraid that I will not be able to stop. I’m of afraid of sharing in a loving relationship with my bf. I fear that he will have control over me if I really allow him to get any closer. I feel that he will use what he knows about me against me. Ashamed of what I allowed you to do to me. I don’t eat. Most of the time I’m either to nauseated or I’m just to tired to even want to eat. I feel sick most days. Sick to my stomach. I get horrible headaches, especially when I haven’t slept. There are days that I don’t want to get out of bed. Days that I feel nothing. Numb. I don’t feel happy, sad, angry, or afraid. I’m just there. No feelings. I ask myself, “Am I alive?”. I like this days, because at least I don’t have to deal with anything. Then there are the days that I hate everything. I hate my life, what he has done to it. I hate what I have become. What he has made me. What he has taken away from me. I can never get it back! I hate everything even myself. I hate me for allowing it to happen. For allowing him to manipulate me. For destroying myself because of him. Anger!! Angry at everything, especially at my family. For not protecting and supporting me! For calling me the horrible names. For blaming me. Angry at everything and everyone around me. I am angry at me, for allowing all of what he did defeat me. I am angry that no matter how much help I’m getting I am not seeing any progress. I’m just so fed up! I am tired of living. Living this way!! Living in this nightmare!

    “At least you’re alive.” Is this LIFE?!! I would’ve rather wished that he had killed me that day! At least the nightmare would have ended! I’m slowly dying anyway!!

How Do I Begin To Talk About It?

     It’s been two months since I started counseling. I feel so frustrated, I haven’t seen any progress. My therapist is very nice. She seems very caring. Sometimes I feel that I am just wasting her time. I haven’t talked about what actually happened. I usually just talk about things that are bothering me at that moment. And most the time I am just quiet. I am afraid to say it out loud. I am afraid that if I say it. I wont be able to deal with my emotions. I don’t feel strong enough to do it right now. I don’t want to deal right now. I am not as strong as I thought I was. All this feelings. I am afraid to relive it. As it is, just having to go to therapy makes me physically sick. The day of therapy I can’t sleep, I get up very anxious, my TMJ is aggravated ( my jaw feels as if I was punched), I get palpitations, and I don’t eat that whole day because I am so nauseated. The little I do eat, I throw up. Why do I hurt myself this way? I’ve lived ok without any help. If I feel this bad and I haven’t brought it up yet, how am I going to feel when I do. My nightmares are becoming worse since I started counseling. I don’t understand why.
     How do I begin talking about it? I can say what happened, but having to share my emotions is hard. Where do I start? Do I start from when I was 6 years old, when I was 13 years old, or do I just start when I left at 19 years old and screwed up all my life? How does that work? I don’t want pity, I want help. I want someone to help me sort all this. I don’t want to breakdown.

Another Sleepless Night

It's going to be a long night. All of a sudden I just burst into tears. I hate this feeling. Not being able to sleep. Trying to calm myself down by listening to music, but hasn't helped. I hate this. I hate feeling alone. Alone. Overwhelmed about this situation. My life is just so complicated right now. How do I pretend that nothing happened? I want to be brave and think positive, but it's difficult when all I can remember is being there. Feeling cold and afraid. Afraid of what of not understanding what was going on. I pretend or at least try to convince myself that nothing you did to me can hurt me anymore, but it is still so vivid in my mind. Your smell, your touch, your dirty hands, your perverted words. How can that go away? No matter how much I blast the radio to drown the thoughts, it's still so difficult. It's like having a recorder in my head, playing the same terror movie over and over and over again. No matter how many years have passed it's still as if it was yesterday. I try not to take myself there, but how can I, when any little thing reminds me of you. You, you did this to me. It's worse at night, when darkness falls. The silence just drives me  crazy. I try to sleep, but am afraid too. Any sound even the softest frightens me. Reminds me of when you used to come and do what you need and leave. I try to sleep, but am to afraid of closing my eyes and seeing your huge shadow standing over my bed.  When I do fall asleep, I usually awaken to a feeling of you on top of me. Not being able to move. The horrible suffocating feeling of you.

THE PAST

I was 6 yrs old when I began getting molested by someone that should have loved me and taken care of me. I was molested until I turned 13 yrs old. Yes, on my 13th birthday my present was rape. Happy birthday to me! The rape continued until I was 16 yrs old. I would avoid him as much as possible. When I turned 19 yrs old, I met a 40 yr old man in college. He swept me off my feet. Soon after I moved in with him. He was so caring. He loved me, so I thought. It wasn't to long when he started verbally abusing me. He would push me once in a while, but he wouldn't hit me. I thought it was ok since he financially provided for me. I had no one. He was the only one. He would force me to have sex when ever he demanded it. Even when I was ill, like the night after my car accident. When I graduated from nursing school it got worse. He began hitting me. He would accuse me of cheating on him with the doctors and the male nurses from work. I became pregnant by him. Two months later I miscarried. I was glad. I didn't want anything of his. I didn't want a child into that relationship. I had two surgeries from the miscarriage. On one of my doctors visit, my doctor noticed the bruises. He confronted me about the bruises- chest, abdomen, arms, thighs, and legs. I was to embarrassed to tell him. I worked for him in the hospital. What was he going to think. A nurse who couldn't even care for herself.  He took pictures of my bruised body and documented. He notified the police. My ex was arrested. He only served one year in prison. My doctor helped along the way. He helped me get a protective order. I continued working for one more year, but I was not doing well emotionally and physically. I resigned from my job as a nurse. I couldn't function. It's been 3 yrs, and I can't seem to get my life back together again. I left everything and traveled for a couple years. I just recently came back to my hometown. I'm trying to get back into life, but it's been difficult. I pray each and everyday that God gives me the strength to be able to at least live a so called 'normal' life. The ironic thing about all this situation is that as a nurse, I helped out two of my patients to get out of an abusive situation, but I never did anything to get out of mine.

Can I Survive The Healing Process?

Ok, I should be thankful, for having survived my past. Great. Thank you God, but how do I survive the healing process? I've been to my 6 th appointment to the crisis center. I thought that I would be much better after 1 month 1/2. Well, I only feel worse. I can't sleep at nights. I'm having terrible nightmares. I am so emotionally and physically tired. I force myself to stay awake, because I am afraid of what the night will bring. If I do fall asleep, I'm usually awaken in the middle of night by the bad dreams. The nightmares haunt me most every night. The most I sleep is about 1 or 2 hrs every 3 days. I am exhausted!! Most the time I am not hungry, just nauseated. Sometimes I wish I had never gone for counseling, I think I was doing well without it. I don't know how long I will be like this, how long do I have to suffer like this. I just hope God listens to my prayers. All I want is to feel better and feel safe at night. I want to sleep!!!