There is Hope

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YOU'RE NOT ALONE.

 There is HOPE.

 

 

A Father-Daughter's Secret

I  would pretend to be happy. I tried my hardest to pretend that I was normal.  Trying to hide the terrible things I did each night. I was not tough, normal, nor happy. The pathetic act to cover my disgusting soul.

My soul is filled with anger and pain. I am ashamed. I let him do it, week after week. He would come and go and he did what he wanted. I hated him and I detested it. I felt like his property. I belonged to him. It was all his idea. I was his and the more he used me, the less I felt myself. He was a grown man. I love and trusted him!

I would pretend to be someone else. I would say I enjoyed him, because if I didn't, he would prob longer. I would close my eyes and pray that it would end soon. I would not fight or say anything. I would pretend to enjoy it, because he loved me. He wanted me to feel real love. He said he needed me. I needed him. I enticed him. 

I was so innocent then. Only a child. Defenseless and needy. Needy for attention, for his attention. 

It all started when I was six years old. So sweet and innocent.  Soon I turned thirteen, better to do what he wanted me to do. Better to hold. A much better lover. So grown up.

I wasn't just a kick screw. He would have me perform all his favorite tricks. HE COULDN'T KEEP HIS PRICK OFF A LITTLE GIRL!!!! What a disgust. 

All that time he made me believe that it was all my fault. He made me believe that it was just what fathers and daughters do. I NEVER WANTED IT! 

He told me he didn't want to hurt me. He said that if I disobeyed him and told, he would kill me. He said it would always be just the two of us, sharing our love. He would always remind me of the "gun", when I resisted. He said that if I told anyone he would use it.

Sometimes, I would push him away. I would plead with him to leave me alone. I would tell him that I didn't want to be with him anymore, and that if he kept on coming I would tell. He made me believe it was all my fault. He called me a "bitch". He would remind me that nobody would believe me. He said that he would tell everyone that I was a tramp. That I seduced him. That I brought it on. MAYBE I DID! MAYBE IT IS TRUE!! I'm not sure. I didn't know what led a man. MAYBE I WANTED LOVE SO MUCH THAT I LED HIM INTO MY BED. I ENJOYED IT!! I led him on and into my bed. I DID EVERYTHING HE WANTED AND I DID IT OVER AND OVER AGAIN, EVERY NIGHT! 

It was our secret. A father-daughter's secret. He loved me and I love him. 

I prayed each night. I prayed that this night would be the last. I prayed for Gods protection and for forgiveness. I prayed for HELP. I felt ashamed, alone, hurt, betrayed, and forgotten. 

A Little Angel

I have been so overwhelmed, disappointed, sad, and angry at life. I feel so embarrassed and ashamed because I have been mad at God and have questioned His plans for me. I feel that I have been selfish and that God is punished me for my past. I know that God doesn't punish us and that He loves us all, but sometimes things just happen that makes you question His plans.

On Feb 22nd, I found out I was pregnant. It was such an amazing surprise. I was very excited. I couldn't believe it. I guess the nausea, mood swings, fatigue, weight loss...was not related to the long hours at work. I was now 2 1/2 months pregnant. I had been to busy and involved with work to have noticed the changes with my body. 

The feelings were so different from the previous pregnancy. I was shocked to find out I was pregnant, but I was happy. I couldn't wait and get home to tell my boyfriend Jay. A new little life. Our new little life.

I didn't tell him right away. I planned it all out. Instead I went shopping. It felt so warm, comforting, and soothing to go into the baby stores. All the cute cuddly items. I also felt uneasy and overwhelmed. I thought of my previous pregnancy and how selfish I reacted towards it. I fought back the tears and reassured myself that it's different now. That this baby won't take the place of the other. It's ok to love this baby.

I bought a little pair of white baby shoes. I wrapped them up in a little tiny box. 


The following morning I handed Jay the little white box. He opened it. He smiled. He was as surprised as I was. He was happy. I was happy. I then handed him the sonogram. We stared at it for hours. We couldn't believe it. We hadn't planned it, but he was welcomed and loved. Our baby.


On March 6th, I miscarried. I can't believe it. I just found out a couple weeks ago that I was pregnant. NOT AGAIN GOD!!! I cried and I am still crying. I am so angry, sad! I am so angry at God for having allowed this to happen. For taking my baby. For not trusting me to be able to care for this baby. I don't get it! I am also disappointed at me for not having cared for my body better. Maybe my baby would've had a chance at life.

WHY???!!! Why does God allow such a thing? Why can't God just allow me to be HAPPY? Why can't He just allow me a second chance? Does He think I'm such a screw up or that my life is so screwed up that I don't deserve a child? 

I know I sound selfish right now, but I am hurting so bad. I feel so empty. I don't know how long this hurt will last. I just feel so miserable. I just want to cry until it doesn't hurt any more. I want it all to be a bad dream. Medically I know why it happened, but my heart wont accept it right now. All I have left are the little reminders-the little white baby shoes and the sonogram, of what was my and Jay's baby. 

Letting Go

"It's getting hard to fight. I feel defeated. I don't want to break down. I don't want to mess anything up. I want it to feel right to be alright.  I thought that with time, it all was going to get better. It has not. I am so scared.

I have been feeling as if I have been fighting a battle with myself. I have always been a perfectionist in everything I do. I have always carried well, no matter what. I always smile even if inside I am dying. I have control over everything, who I trust, who I let into my life, and how I want to be treated. No one can control me or my emotions. I control when I cry and how much I cry. No one will ever be allowed to hurt me or make me feel vulnerable ever again, because I have control over my life and who enters into it. Poised, prim and proper, the smile, the many faces of perfection.

But in reality my perfection and control are faltering. I feel like letting go. My heart is breaking. I feel I can't hold on to all this any longer. Everything is getting so difficult to deal with. I just want to be held tight and reassured that everything will be alright. I want to crawl into a hole and cry and never come out. 

It's like  living  on the edge, hanging from a ledge, too scared to hold the hand that wants to help."

I am hurting so much that I decided to go for therapy. I can't explain it, but felt that I needed to go to therapy. I always walk out of counseling when it's getting close to talking of what happened. I usually leave therapy on the first couple of sessions. This time I feel it is different. I walked into the center, I didn't have an appointment. I was seen the same day. Usually there's a 3 day waiting period to be seen. I guess God is watching over me and He feels it's the right time. The right time to "let go".

My therapist's name is Alice. She seems very nice and caring. After the introduction and get to know session, she asked me why I was there and what I want to get out of the therapy. She didn't have to ask anything else...I just blurted it out loud "I am here because I was molested and raped by my father from the age of 6 years old until the age of 16. I want to be able to live without the nightmares." 

I said it! I had never said it out loud to anyone. "My father raped me." It was so surreal. It felt as if someone else had said it. Such a relief and no one told be to shut up. No one said that I wasn't allowed to talk about it. No one slapped me when I said it. No one said I was going to hell.  It was as if I had taken back my voice.  The voice that had been quieted for many years. My voice.

I had wanted to say it for many years, but I was to afraid of breaking down and not be able to stop crying. I did cry and I didn't break down. The therapist reassured me that it is going to be alright. That it is going to be difficult, but that the worst part is over. That I survived the abuse and that I am strong enough to survive the recovery. 

Finally, I stepped up. I will let go. My abuse is just a part of me of my past. It does not define me nor will I let it define me. I will not allow the b******s that hurt me take anymore of my life. I will no longer allow myself to pretend to be who I am not. I owe it to myself. I won't hide or run away from my feelings. I can't love myself at the expense of someone else. Besides what do I have to lose, I have already lived the nightmare.  I can't break anymore than what I am already.

"" There's comfort in knowing you don't have to pretend anymore, you're going to do everything in your power to heal."". ~E. Bass

Daddy's Little Girl

She was daddy's little girl
To have and to hold.

The day before Her 6th b-day
The last happy memories
She'll ever know.

She was absolutely forbidden 
To talk to anyone
About what she did with daddy.

Her story is sad
But she learned
Early on 
To fake
Happiness.

She decorates herself with
Smiles, 
Butterflies,
Flowers,
And 
Sweetness.
Trying to reclaim 
Her stolen innocence.

Her family disowned her
When she was sixteen
For telling the truth.

She wonders
What life would have been
If her mother would have only believed her.

She wishes she had never been born
Into this dark cruel world
The only world she knows.

The most difficult thing
Is to forgive herself
And learn to let go.

She puts her heart through hell
Their love will always be sin
It's hard for her to understand
That it is his sin alone.

She's afraid of the stigma
Of her soiled past.

When she looks at herself
She sees no soul
No salvation.

She was never taught
To respect, care, and love
Her body.

She cares for everyone 
But she treats herself like crap.

She never cries
Even though she is going 
Through hell.

Her smile hides her pain
Her smile keeps her sane.

She's learned
How to hide her crazy
Keep it together
But under all that perfection 
She is crumbling.

She tries to run away
From the darkness
Running from her mess.

No matter how far she runs
It is always there.

Torn and all jacked up
She numbs her pain
At the expense of her liver.

She has always known
What feels good
Hurts at the end.

It's one of those sad things
That happens in life.

If she could
She would
Slip away
And
Never wake up.

     Here goes, it has been difficult for me to find an entry for my blog. You see expressing myself either through writing or speaking to someone about it is very nerve wrecking for me. I cannot find the right words to express my feelings on paper and when it comes to talking to someone in person I just seem to clam up. The fear of letting someone into my deepest thoughts and emotions just overwhelms me.

     I started the blog in hopes that I would be able to express myself and begin finding closure for my life. When my former therapist suggested I write down my feelings and thoughts on paper that’s when I decided that maybe blogging about it would help me more. I did enter a few entries to my blog, but it’s the most difficult thing I have done. Trying to place my emotions on paper is terrifying. I can write my story without any problem, but adding emotions and finding the words to express my emotions is something so awkward. I want to be able to express myself without worrying and being afraid of what will come out of my true feelings.

     As a child, I learned to keep quiet. {Never disobey your parents. Always do what you are told. Never ask just do it. Don’t talk about how you feel. Don’t cry, What are they going to say if they see you crying? You better not be talking to anyone. They are going to think you’re crazy. You are going to break up the family. You’re crazy. God will punish you. You are going to hell.} All through my childhood, teenage years, and adult life that’s all I know to do, keep quiet, if not I will go to hell.

     For the past couple of weeks, I have debated whether I should continue to blog and even write about my experiences as a survivor. I had come to the conclusion that I should take my blog down. That I am just wasting my time and that I was not getting any where with this. I felt that I was not being true to myself and my blog followers. I kept on asking myself, “What do I have to offer, if I can’t be true to my emotions?” I started blogging in order to be able to express myself and to be able to at least spread the word on child sexual abuse, rape, and domestic violence. I felt that maybe through my story and daily struggle to sanity that I could make a difference, but somehow I was not seeing any changes. My entries are all just to dark and without any positive outlook. Nothing that shows that I am on my way to getting better. I am emotionally stuck. If I can call it that.

     Today after long thought, I am not deleting my blog. I believe God answered my question. Just be silent and you’ll get an answer. Or for me be patient. Nothing changes over night. Today I spent my whole day tweeting with other bloggers and survivors of abuse and/or rape. I found out something very meaningful and heartwarming. I found out that through this blog I am making a difference in many people’s lives. As the day progressed I was seeing more tweets geared towards me about how inspirational and amazing I am and how they like my blog. Some tweets read: “keep on doing what you doing, you are amazing”; “you are a better person “; “u are doing important work”; “thanks for the inspiration”; “Thank your for seeing all that is beautiful(you), for sharing your journey & walking with purpose”; “TU for sharing love+strength despite what you’ve been through…”; “ you inspire me & at least once a day I smile b/c of u”; and many more. WOW for me to read all the kindness and support just brought me to tears, but tears of joy. I am actually doing something worth while and people are taking time to read and comment on my life. I am overwhelmed with emotion.

     I had not opened my blog since Dec. 20^th, but today after all my debating, this is my first entry of 2012. Sorry for such a long entry, but I felt the need to express how I felt about my blog.

     I would like to express my gratitude for all the support and encouragement I have gotten from all my followers and the kind people who take time to read my blog. Thank you for the kind words and comments left on both the blog and on twitter @SusieU_11. It really means a lot to me. Thank you for being patient as I am new to blogging. Please feel free to comment on either the blog or on my twitter account @SusieU_11. I really appreciate all your feedback.

     My journey to recovery is still in progress. It is looking like to be a long and difficult battle, but knowing that I have all this support and love is only going to make it easy and worth the fight. I know I can do it and I wont give up!!

     Thank you again for visiting my blog. Oh and sorry to have made this too long and for rambling on and on. I said I had a difficult time expressing my emotions, I didn’t say I had a difficult time writing.

Luv,
Susie
　
PS: Look for future blog entries as I share more of myself.

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.