Rantings and Revelations ~ TW

Today is my independence day! Yes - I am posting big and bold and purple - it's a celebration, long overdue! 👍

So, today, He called me. I thought for a minute, do I want to answer his call? I hate how he can call at any time and just invade my life and personal space. But I was feeling okay with it so I answered it - it has been about a month or a little over, I realized, since we had spoken.

He told me that his wife, himself, his daughter, all have covid. His wife is very sick ( sorry, not sorry) but He is not ( it sounds like he is going to be just fine...besides, he is too stubborn to not be - lol). His daughter is also with covid but calling it " stomach flu" ( denial much?) and that she will be okay because she smokes weed and weed kills the virus in the lungs - roflmao - was she High when she thought of this? LOL).

He said, when am I going to see you? He wanted me to come over when Everyone in that house is sick with Covid! I told him , for the first time, about my lungs - but not the severity of it - I do not feel he has a right to know that and I do not want to share that with him, and that is okay :) But, omg, but then he asked Again, after hearing that if I caught it, with my bad lungs from asthma, I would die from it! He was literally willing to let me risk my life - no, not just risk, but actually die, from it - just because he wanted to see me and he was bored!!!

And something snapped in me. Something Finally clicked! He has always and continues to, see and treat me like an object - a means to an end. An object to fill his needs. Abusive needs in the past and his needs now in the present. No value in and of myself, other than to serve his needs.

And I snapped inside - in such a good way! I rejected that - I am NOT an object - I NEVER was. He treated me like an object my entire life, abuse wise and in every way. I only existed to serve him. Fuck that!

I took my POWER BACK. I took my self worth back. I took my value back! I let go of the victim role I always feel around him. I am NOT accepting this anymore, not from him, not from myself and not from anyone else. Never again!

And in that moment of perspective shift - everything changed for me...like a domino affect, all these other shifts started happening and things just fell into place! I no longer feel as extreme of degree of shame anymore for what he has done to me. I give that shame Back to him because it is His and Not mine. ( easier said than to not feel shame though - but it Has lessened in intensity). I no longer feel I Have to keep his secrets - or her secrets. I no longer blame myself for all the god damn abuse I endured. I no longer have to adhere to meeting that family's needs and whims with no respect for myself.

I finally have found In Life, that which I only thought I could find in death, Peace. I thought, in order for me to get My life and My self worth back, it would have to be after they all pass away or I runaway and never look back. But no, it happened right here and right now. ❤️

And, I am not naïve, I know this will take constant work to not slide back when triggered. I know that there is such depths of anger and deep sadness there, too. For I realize he really sees me as an object to serve him - and not with respect or value on my own - and not with love, appropriate love.

I know he loves me, in his way. But I also get it now that I have the power when to allow him into my life, how far and I have a voice and it matters. I can speak out loud! ( Well, that will be tested out tomorrow in therapy - lol. But I have a really good feeling about this). And I know this will be constant work to keep this perspective because I go right back to little me's feelings and thoughts when triggered. But it is so worth working on this in order to keep this.

And guess what? I am so ready to Name him. To name the relation he is to me. I will him therapy first ... and then here in my journal. I feel so empowered! This is not my shame to carry. It was not my fault, in any way. This is not my secret that I have to use every part of me, keeping, in order to protect him and her ( or the other he or her) and myself and everyone else.

I am kind of awaiting a breakdown where all my accumulated anger and deep hurt will rise up to be heard. Because right now I am not feeling that but quite aware of it's presence. It will bubble up and rise and ooze out. And the day after's breakdown will happen and I will be stuck feeling it all. But I am hoping it might be lessened by this empowerment. And this relinquishing of self hate, self blame. I think...I have started to end the war I have been waging on myself my whole life.

I know that this is going to hit me hard - being an object. But I honestly, now, after all I have realized and all that has shifted, I think that I will be better apt to handle it when it does come out, and it will come out.

❤️So, Happy Independence Day, blissedNblessed. You deserve this. It has been a lifetime coming. ❤️

well, fuck - this is harder than I thought.

1. his daughter is now texting , being mean. She always does, but nastier than usual. I have to remember that this revelation of not being an object to get needs met goes for her too! My first reply to her was ( nice, as always - placate all of them - responsible for her feelings, blah blah, do anything so they don't gang up on me and get crueler) and to explain all the reasons I had not done what she wanted, when she wanted. ( She wanted me to check my DUO message from her right at the time she left it. I found myself typing up excuses to make her not mad at me anymore - then ERASED THAT SHIT. Fuck that. I re-wrote my text back that I had been busy.

Then she texts back later saying, rudely, yeah, i thought you didn't bother t put DUO on your new phone ( didnt get a new phone, that was a lie I felt i had to say to placate her because she was mad I didn't respond to her texts a lil while ago). This isn't going to stop, either. She keeps at it and keeps at it and lashes out, repeatedly - right to slash my soul in the most mean way she can think of. This time though, I refuse to talk to her/text/duo if she cannot respect me. If things escalate to the point of harassment ( as it often does, including her sister and her mother joining in) I simply will file a police report. End of story. If He gets involved if the police do - I will tell him to get them to stop harassing me then, or I will continue with the police report.

God - this is always so fucking messy...but it get's worse:

2. I emailed my shrink of 15 years. We had worked on this very issue about my family before. I thought he would be so pleased that I finally got there. He read my email, waited all day to respond, and responded with: I don't think its right to wish covid on anyone. WHAT? I didn't say that or imply that at ALL! He did not even hear me. I am so tired of no one hearing me! ...so it ate away at me and ate away at me until I finally emailed back and told him I was very hurt and offended by his response and he had missed the whole point, plus - I never would nor did I wish covid on ANYONE. This is the person that is supposed to support me and have my back. Have I gotten a response from him back - no, of course not. Well, fuck him too.

Now I am sitting here, wanting to cry - on this fucking amazing day with my fucking amazing revelation. But - i told my aunt about my revelation - and she was beyond happy for me. So, that's good at least. But I am sinking with this guilt feeling...and anger. Guilt that I am not gushing over them , being responsible for their feelings and putting myself second.

This is so harmful to me. I do not want to get another shrink, eve though he's pretty much senile at this point, lol - not kidding. But how do I keep him knowing he cant hear me and he would think i was wishing covid on people? I guess I will just keep him for med refills. After all, we only speak 1x a month and talk about nothing because every time I tried to, he just wouldn't help me - like it was not his job or something.

I hate that I am second guessing my own emancipation because of my sister being mean and my shrink assuming the worst about me and not seeing the wonderful thing that came out of this, nor taking my side and being happy that I am not going to allow them to treat me as an object. It makes me feel like I should go right back to being the scapegoat that they can freely kick around - their object. I WON'T, lol. But the guilt is setting and I HATE this. I am just bawling over my keyboard right now.

So much for my independence day :(

Day one of LIVING my new TRUTH.

I am vacillating between empowerment and guilt. I didn't expect that actually - but it makes so much sense. I am unlearning years of conditioning ( thanks twisted for pointing this out for me - this helps).

Today is my therapy session, also know as the day of the oozing out of feelings, also know as the day before the breakdown - LOL. Omg, I HAVE to have a sense of humor about this because this damn crap happens like clockwork - I can count on it. I am hoping that this new empowerment I am feeling will lessen the severity. I am so excited to tell her about my revelation! And I so need to process my little me temper tantrum that I had a few days ago - I do not know what happened! That was NOT age regression. And I need to understand what is going on with me ( and with little me, if that makes sense). I really need to get some support from her about this guilt, too.

I am going to try to Name him today with my therapist. But I also have a memory and 2 things i need to process about the other memory , with her - roflmao, i am keeping written down notes of everything i need to discuss because there is never enough time in a session. Roflmao - I need like a marathon therapy session to get all this out - it feels like a lifetime of shit coming up. ( Oh god, I would never make it out of a marathon therapy session, sane!).

Oh, so - yesterday when I emailed my shrink and told him about this great news, he said in response that I shouldn't wish covid on anyone. And I never did - he totally misunderstood my message - enter more guilt. Then I emailed him back letting him know i didn't and i was quite insulted he thought i would do that! I got a response this morning saying that he never thought that of me, and that it was a misunderstanding. That he would never be malicious with me. ( I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER AND MORE AT EASE NOW). So, I emailed him back, thanking him for the clarification and that I didn't think he would, I was just triggered by his response and was in guilt mode. I am so glad this was cleared up because that really hurt me.

I am secretly worried about the oozing out of All these feelings that are looming and oozing - Already! And I have not talked about this with the therapist yet - I can't even imagine how it's going to be afterwards. I am hoping that processing will help organize my thoughts and feelings. And great news - I really feel confident that I will be able to use my voice today - in a much stronger way - I am not expecting perfection in any way - I will still struggle for this is all new to me - but I will do it!

omg, there is just so much and i am just all over the place - my therapist has no idea what's she in for today - hahahha. Sucks I have to do this in my car today of all days because it is 5 degrees outside! But - ill have that heat on and a freaking blanket! My own car fort! 😋

Well, i think i am too all over the place right now to even make any sense in my post, i think i will save the rest of this journaling time I look forward to, until later in the day and after my session - hopefully my head will be clear and thoughts won't be bumping into each other then...but its the oozing day - so you never know. Bwhahaha - variety is the spice of life .

Possible TW: speaking of SH and urges - nothing graphic

Well this therapy session ... its not that it didn't meet my expectations - I got a lot out - but it stirred up so many emotions that were already bubbling up to the surface. And now its like a damn tornado , emotions whirling around me, threatening me, screaming to come out - to consume me whole. And for some reason I keep pushing them back down, too afraid to hold them and feel them. And they are all battling for attention and I do not know which ones to attend to first. I feel like I am playing triage.

And I know this is just going to get worse and worse as the day goes on. The ONLY thing that works for me to make this stop - to have a buffer between me and all the chaotic emotions , is smoking pot. Then I can look at them and feel them and just...stop. Stop the chaos and madness. But I owe my aunt money and I have to work off all that money by cleaning for her and I won't be able to afford to get any for MONTHS. I can't live like this for months. When my emotions are running this extreme and this high - the only thing I can do to calm them is either take way too many anxiety meds ( which I should not be taking any because it decreases my lung function) or to SH.

I keep SHing , then saying I will never do it again, then SHing when I am not even aware I am doing this ( during my breakdowns ...hahaha, tomorrow). But I Can Not handle these emotions anymore. I do not even feel safe emotionally with all this screaming in my head. And to be honest, the ONLY thing that makes any of this better, IS SH. But the catch 22 is that it only helps alleviate it for so long and then I need to SH again.

I am sitting here typing, with full intention and a messed up satisfaction, knowing that in a few minutes, I will SH. And I will SH all god damn day if I have to. I want to punish myself. I want to get out frustration and anger. To keep the roaring emotions away. To protect myself. To sooth myself. To punish little me - it's not even her fault. And I HATE how SH is the answer and cure all for all of the above. It serves so many purposes.

I am actually so desperate to get some sort of help with these emotions that I am thinking of begging my aunt to allow me to borrow the money so that I can get some. Though she already stated that under no circumstances will she lend me any money until I have paid her back everything - that's months away. This will just get me more upset! Never getting my damn needs met. This IS a need! I cannot even meet my own needs - I feel I am not surviving very well, emotionally.

So I thought, maybe if I told her that in therapy - she knows I am in therapy - that a LOT of emotions are coming up for me and they are too big for me to handle, I can not put them anywhere and they are looming and screaming all at the same time and the ONLY way of coping with this intensity IS smoking. Though she doesn't know she lends me money for pot, lol, I tell her it is CBD because she is old school from the generation of believing refer madness :P That is is a drug, it's bad and will destroy your life. And debating on telling her I have been SHing ( she has already seen the scars - I ty to hide them though). And ugh, I almost forgot, in that little me temper tantrum meltdown , I did SH in front of her. And I do not want to do that to cope and I really need the damn " cbd" to take the edge off because I can't be taking so many anxiety meds, because my lungs.

But if she were to hear my pain and desperation and still not care about me and my welfare, that would top me over the edge into a full blow meltdown and some major SH, more so than I normally would do and more severe- I know this. I do not want this to happen.

So maybe I was thinking that I could tell her that instead of giving me groceries , to not give me any food this week so that I can get the CBD. But then she will counter that too with you owe me money, pay me first - but it makes sense that she would put out money for my food, so its the same thing, but CBD instead of food. And I hate that I would have to give up eating for a week in order to be emotionally okay. And again, if she said no - it would send me off the edge.

Maybe if I told her that the CBD is a coping skill , the Only one that works with such heightened emotions. And, since she has seen the scars an seen me do it in front of her - she would believe me. Then say it is so important for my emotional survival right now, that I am willing to give up food so that I can be okay...again, if she knows all of this and cruely says no, bam - gone into crazy land. So triggered. I am going to do this though. I am so damn desperate. I guess it is worth the risk of her saying no, or being mean, or me getting worse and being triggered. Worst that would happen is a fucking meltdown that is coming anyhow. And then just SH all damn day and every day to emotionally survive.

I am going to ask her this when she gets home - but sit her down, semi open up and tell her that this isn't recreation or whatever she thinks, but I can not stop SH unless I get this and then, idk - apologize for being alive or even born! And even if she does say yes ( I doubt she will - I am just shit out of luck ) there will be so much time spent berating me for putting her in this situation, for being all the things she hates about me and how much of a burden I am, and on and on and on until I can not stand to be alive. This is her M.O. whenever I get money from her - even though I EARN it.

And what scares me is my SH craving. Not just SH - but viciously SH, more than normal and deeper wounds. That is the reason I am on here journaling instead of SHing now. I am afraid of myself. I am afraid of these emotions. I am afraid of how bad I will do it. I am afraid of how much I have to do it before I can stop doing it and the emotions stop.

I want so bad to just cry to her and explain how much pain I am in - but I can't tell her why. And guaranteed she will just tell me to stop crying or grow up and act my age or whatever else she normally says - she gets even More controlling when I am emotional. I am getting damn close to doing sexual favors for some cash. I don't feel like my body is mine, anyhow.

I can't take this anymore. I am going to go SH ( I will be safe, ofc) and cry hysterically for the time I have in the house alone where I can actually cry. And take a few anxiety meds. Then maybe go nap with my stuffie and cry myself to sleep. I just need to bleed all this pain out so it is not trapped anymore. ( I am lying, I am scared at how much I will SH, I know it is going to be a lot.)

I have tired to come on here to journal, multiple times today and just couldn't... I am not even very focused or present ... no, that's not the right words. I feel so disconnected to myself and to others and the world and everything around me - all day. It is really getting to me. I have said maybe 3 words all day to my aunt - have no clue WHAT I have been doing in all these hours I have been up . I mean, I know what I have been doing but how could I be passing all this time doing pretty much nothing - this is so weird . I feel so stuck in my own head and I can't get out and touch anything real. I need to just give up trying to be real today and just go to bed.

I seem to just be getting worse and worse every day. Maybe my great revelation - was just a joke like my aunt says. I mean, its not: I am NOT going to be an object to him , them , or anyone else for that matter. I feel completely hopeless - nothing is getting better. And living with my damn aunt is making me hate myself so much . Being treated and told how much she hates me and how much or a burden I am, every chance she gets. She's gotten a lot nicer through the years...but its still bad. And I feel so beaten down. I feel like I am Constantly drowning.

I wish I didn't have these healthy problems because I would say , fuck it - and leave. Live in my car . She used to kick me out all the time and make me sleep in my car. It was HORRIBLE, but emotionally safer. And my little me temper tantrums seem to want to come out more and more - I almost damn near knocked over my damn Christmas tree onto the floor this am.

I have these suffocating emotions an no where to put them. And my aunt treats me like I am a " behavioral problem" or " selfish", " a burden", " lazy" , " manipulative", ect....I am trying to push myself up and heal and i live in an environment where I am constantly being squished down.

I dont even know whats really wrong with me now ...i am just choking down so much pain and wanting to lash put because i am so angry that my family hates me so much. ALL OF THEM. Every damn one of them. They think so little of me. There is no love . Literally.

And my therapist isn't really helping me. Or maybe I have unrealistic expectations. Maybe there is no healing - just enduring? Or maybe it has to get worse before it gets better? or maybe some people dont get to get better.

Maybe I deserved it all. Maybe the abuse was a direct result of who i am, a reaction to being , me, being a piece of shit. and i want to post on cups about how i feel - but i feel everyone is so damn sick of my negativity and bullshit. I am so sick of me.

i feel i need to get out all these memories because they are adding up and up but how can i when i have a damn breakdown every other day. maybe i need to just pretend nothing happened and try to live the rest of my life. I have not even opened up about the other he with her yet. have not even finished processing the one and only damn memory I shared. And the other therapist never responded back to me. I feel so alone.

I feel like i am falling into a hole of depression and hopelessness. and the past and present blurr so much so many days. I feel like i am bat shit crazy.

I realized something today. That all these memories, body memories, emotional chaos - it's bringing up so many emotions up and out and there they are, in front of me. But instead of facing them head on - with Warrior Spirit, I have been pushing them away and running away. So - they come out anyways. They find a way to be expresses: my self harm, that little ME's temper tantrum, the day of dissociation, giving up speaking out loud and ignoring my aunt, my body going numb, emotions going numb - chaos whirling in my head.

I am going to try something different. When a really strong urge to self harm or an overpowering emotions comes - even a body memory or flashback - I am going to embrace it for what it is. I am going to give the emotions and voices a chance to be - to be expressed and heard and validated. I have to stop running. I have been running my whole life.

So here I go, with unabashed honesty and truth, I am going to get some stuff out - to look at it for what it is, to name it ( if I can), maybe name the He ( maybe not) , and just see if I can't straighten some stuff out here I my journal and maybe things will calm a bit for my brain and body.

TW: Looking at , placing here and openly talking about a body memory that won't go away. It just keeps coming back. And getting out the memory(memories) associated with it. So again, TW:

God, this is hard - so hard. I can't even tell my therapist this...but it's easier here because well, I'm hiding behind a screen - no one can see me. But instead of writing a paragraph of all the reasons why I can't do this and it's so hard to do - I am going to just fucking do it.

I have this body memory. It is so shameful. Beyond embarrassment, beyond shame - I Become THE VERY EMBODIMENT OF SHAME when this memory attacks my body and the memory(s) associated with this is pure shame. But maybe if I write it and talk about it, some of this damn shame will lessen?

Out of the blue, with no trigger I have identified at all, this thing will happen to my body. It feels JUST LIKE how It use to feel after He had dropped me off - countless times. Weather it be from spending the weekend at his house, spending the day together or even being dropped off home after being picked up form school. Regardless of how many times he had hurt me already - the entire time I was with him, it was always the same ritual/routine when he dropped me back off - he always had to hurt me , one last time.

I was in the passenger seat of his car. A dark forest green jag - one side of my family so poor, the other rich - it was stuck in two worlds - both hurt so bad. Both hurt me so bad. ( I actually feel really scared saying this - I can FEEL him right here and SEE his warning glance, so full of danger - DO NOT TELL. Just giving the description of his car feels dangerous to me. He is going to hurt me so bad for this - this is how I feel. Just from the damn car alone - like no, your getting too close to telling. God, I am so scared of him . He is dead now. But his control over me is not. He still controls me and fills me with such fear. Bit I am still going to fucking do this. I am still going to write this out - and I am going to be safe. And I am going to be safe from me too - I will NOT self harm over this. I will no longer hurt myself in response to being hurt.

I was in the passenger seat. I knew what was going to happen - it was always the same. The bad and scary feelings started ...He was warning me not to tell about what happened. Warning me that if I did, my mother would hate me and leave me. That she would blame me for what I did and so would everyone else. My family would leave me. And even as he spoke his warnings, he would be starting up abuse again. He told me I had to come over and sit on his lap. I shrink into the seat - I didn't want to go over there. I already was hurting so bad down there.

But this is the way it is, this is just what happens - it is just what you have to do. I thought this, this is just how life is. He would be unzipping his pants as I was trying to collect myself together - what can I do in order to get out off this? Nothing. There is nothing. After moving his seat so it laid back more, he would just get frustrated and angry with me taking so long to come over to his side - to use me like I was nothing but a scrap of towel to clean up his mess. And I half reluctantly started to move over, half being taken from my seat and put on top of him.

And he raped me. Right there in the car - parked in the back of the parking lot - hidden in the shady trees, away from prying eyes. I always frantically looked around I case someone saw - had to hide this. My secret. I was bad. I cause this.

And this is when, what I called the Walk of Shame, would happen: When he finished, he threw me back into the passenger seat and i trued to pull up my pants and underwear - scrambling quickly. He , ahhh, this is so damn disgusting. I feel covered in shame right now thinking of this. Honestly , I am having SH urges right now because of this - but I wont do it.

The walk of shame is when ( I'm so sorry little me and young me and kid me - for having to endure this): I don't know how to put ucky words to this...The shame walk when IT ( the ucky stuff that made me messy - gross and sticky and wet and bad and hateful - evidence of him still being there with me all the time - evidence that it was all real even if I pretended it wasn't). And I would have to shamefully walk back from that last parking spot to my house. And IT was there, in mu underwear and touching me down there - always. There was no escape from it. And the fake smile I had to twist onto my face when my mom answered the door and IT was still there and I could feel it.

I would run right into the bathroom - sometimes my mom would ask if I am okay, sometimes pull me aside and ask me away from him - I lied - Everything is ok - i am safe - mom wont hate me - he wont hurt me worse. And I would slink into the bathroom. And wipe myself clean and take off my dirty ucky underwear. Scrunch it into a gross ucky ball and dig in the hamper in the bathroom - trying to find the bottom of the pile. And I would hide the dirty underwear right at the bottom - safe, hidden. Away from mom knowing, safe from anyone finding out and finally a relief from having the ucky on my skin.

Or sometimes, hide them under my bed. Hide them anywhere I could. So they were not seen - evidence. Hide it so far from ME. Sometimes when he would take them so that she wouldn't find out .. usually when he hurt me bad and there was too much blood ( she must have told him something about me coming home with dirty ucky underwear), I was relieved because I didn't have to find a place to hide them.

...What gets me is that my mother did the laundry. She SAW the ucky underwear with the bad stuff in it. She didn't see it once and could tell herself a story about it - she saw it over and over again. SHE did the laundry! She , without a doubt, saw this. She didn't do anything. It didn't stop. Over and over again, years and years. She must have found them under the bed too - you cant find this and think its okay! It is a little girl and for so many years she saw this ucky stuff. Hard Evidence - DAMN DNA evidence. Nothing stopped. It is impossible to see this and not know without a doubt, that this little girl is being abused.

And so, my body memory keeps coming up - forcing me to feel and face this over and over again. The shame over and over again. The fear over and over - the anger , why was i not good enough to be worth saving? And I have to somehow exist while my body is living that walk of shame .. for hours and hours - literally taking my body over. Feeling this. This is embarrassing - but I check - to make sure its not there. Nothing, nothing is there and I feel like it is - the most real sensation as any other. Right here and right now - despite the fact that it is over, it is 2022 - nothing feels like 2022. By body is not here - its is back there, and I am expected to go through my damn day like everything is okay - be productive. Live the walk of shame for hours - hours in this agonizing trapped shame. He is still here.

I have my therapy appointment in 30 min. I am so nervous. I WANT to talk about things - the things I wrote in my journal yesterday. I want to stop holding thigs in and talk! I am worried , after all my crisis and freaking out - she will not want me to. But I want to tell her:

I get it, I know why I have so many crisis and freak outs - this is all coming up for me and I am so busy batting it all away that it pops up in every which way for me - out of control. I need to talk and get it out in a controlled way - I need to use my voice and voice the thoughts, the body memories, the emotions, the flashbacks. I am so worried she will either turn me down or that I, I won't be able to get out it. That's the biggest one - fearing I just won't be able to get it out - I always just choke on it and give up trying to communicate. But I might just do it - despite what she thinks. Just spit it out - so bitter.

Spit it all out, what's on my mind, and stop worrying if I make sense and stop apologizing for her having to listen to me; hearing things that are so gross. Start focusing on me, and getting our my pain. I am going to do it.

I am going to do it. I am not going to let her lead me down the path of least resistance. I have lived that for too log. Today , I stand up and fight for my life. bwhahahah, well - let's see if I can actually follow through and do this. But even if I fall on my face trying, at least I tried. And that counts for so much!

I have not written in here in what feels like a long time. I am so used to writing at least 2x a day , it was this safe space for me to get stuff out and feel better - or to process things and get them out of my head - or even just log my feelings and thoughts to make it easier to make sense of them.

I still get on here, 2x a day. I try to write. I am flooded with feelings and memories that will not leave my brain and soul. And I can't...I can't leave them here. I can't write them here. Because...because this new stuff. I keep getting these little snippets of horrific flashbacks. Daily. Ant the story that is unfolding scares the shit out of me - it makes me feel it might be impossible to keep him in my life. And it might make it impossible to even talk and relate to him anymore.

And I feel sick to my stomach. And I have been taking anxiety meds every damn day - keeping myself nice and far from emotional overwhelm. And I have not been using my smoke as medicinal - I am trying to keep myself nice and fucked up all day and night. I can't hold these new memories and new information.

I know that there is still so much in this memory of these events that are blank - so I cannot and will not make a guess or insinuate anything. because I don't know for sure. But I so see all the excuses I make for what I know happened - I see them, I am not dumb. But I'm so scared if I don't make the excuses then I will not be okay with what this story which is unfolding is saying about him and about me and about things I went through. Beyond just being treated like an object.

Without my excuses and even with all the memory gaps - it sure as hell seems like I wasn't just an object for him - but used as an object so he could make money when he was broke. But I will not admit that until all the memory gaps are filled in - or until enough are...or until I finally stop the bullshit charade of believing my own narrative that says nothing happened and everything is okay.

I have therapy today. I do not know if she wants to process what I talked about last session - the other he. The body memories that relate. I know I have not fully processed that and it brought up a lot of shit. And something was mentioned in passing ( POSSIBLE TW IN 3 SECONDS AHEAD----> ) : about the pictures he showed me of the other ones and the pictures he took of me.

I didn't realize how bad that would trigger me back to that. And I am honestly not ready to go there. And I have no problem telling my therapist that if she tries, and i know she will be respectful of that. I just cant do that now.

But what is really getting to me is that other memory of the other he I talked about earlier in this post so cryptically. I want so bad to tell her, the therapist. To get it out, to scream, to cry, to just tell another soul. But then I feel wrong for doing it because there Are so many memory gaps in that memory - but that doesn't take away from the parts I know that are so so so not okay. Far from being okay. Telling me this unfolding story of my life that abuse from him spanned to a lot more than what I had thought.

I wish I could just spill it out here - but there is so so so much shame. And self hate. And anger for him. Anger for all of them. Anger foe those that saw and did nothing. For the institutions that allow this shit to happen. For allowing places to exist like for this. I want to just start balling right now but I'm afraid if I start crying I will never stop. It feels like endless pain - endless tears. So I am holding them back - plus, i still cant seem to cry in front of her or express much emotions , though I am starting to , a tiny bit - so hats improvement, for sure. but i do not feel safe crying in front of her yet - so i am pushing it away right now because of i start, ill still be crying by the time my appointment rolls around.

I am debating on just smoking up right now - keeping things at a distance. But i hate talking to her stoned because i just am So distanced and then i start to dissociate and it just becomes this useless clusterfuck of a session and then back to self hate.

So, i am proud of myself for at least writing this am and getting at least this little bit out of me. Placing it here to old so maybe i have a lighter load to carry. But still, I have put nothing down of what is dragging down my heart and soul and fucking with my mind. The dam memory. I am worried if i write it here, it will be true....even with the memory gaps - that I am being respectful of. I never want to assume anything happened that i do not know happened for sure. But i feel i cant even trust my own gut, feelings or memories - because I Do Not Want them to be True. Bc this changes my life - it changes my story - forever. if it is true. ( and how i find a million justifications of why my memory could be wrong or mean something completely harmless - yet at the same time, I'm having trouble believing my own bullshit.

I think i need - NEED to get it out in therapy Today. This is eating me up alive. I am so worried i will not share it - but yes, i have proved to myself that I can share really hard things - even while feelings i cant do it. so i guess, unless she says something like , lets concentrate on one memory at a time - i don't think she will not allow me to express this one - its just my fears - well, and her past actions - that's she has changed, thank god.

I think I need to blurt out at the beginning of the session - that I have these flashbacks that are not stopping, and new memories unfolding and this deep fear I can not shake that no where is safe ...that I can't even sleep anymore without clinging to my stuffie and hiding behind it. Every night....even sucking my thumb - anything to feel safe, because after this memory - i just don't. and this hate and anger and despair and hopelessness are a constant in my throat, chocking me.

I think I am going to write this on Word, off cups. And read it - just fucking read it - one sentence at a time - and even one word at a time when it gets really hard . But I need to get it out because i am so afraid of it. and afraid of what it will do to me if i keep it in.

Maybe if i can process it, memory gaps and all - and find someway to hold it, to understand it - with her, and feel better ( hahaha, feel batter about this - i do not even know how). But if i can, I will place it here, in the hands of my safe journal. ( No worries - TW-ings will abound. )

I have my session in about 3 hours - I know better to not smoke but i feel i need to - but maybe it is better to hold all of this so i can really share it with her - just dump it there - be real - emotions and all. maybe i do need a deep guttural cry - heaves and snot dripping everywhere - i never allowed myself that. Like, somehow not only is it not safe, but i am not worthy of getting that ...release.

then i think , i just cant handle this. so i want to take more anxiety meds - but if i do, ill sleep right through my session - ahhh. Why can I not my power for construction instead of destruction? I am so tired of self destructing. Because even though I feel everything is my fault and I am bad and i am the cause and i am dirt and bad and worthless and disgusting.... I know, in my heart and in my mind - what happened was all of that - the actions, the people. A child is ALWAYS innocent - always. Even if i think i should have ran away or fought more or done something, anything - it was so ingrained - this is life, this just happens, this is what you have to do - will be way worse if you don't. And I didn't know a world - a reality in which thigs like this didn't happen. This was my world I had to live in.

And I am so so angry! So angry that this was the world given to me by them - and I had to accept it and live in it. A terrifying, shameful and agonizing world filled with emotional pain, pain i feel. Felt in my soul and the pain caused to my body. How can ppl that are supposed to love you and care for you and keep you safe DO these things????? Did they not know that they were destroying every part of me and leaving nothing left?

So , on this depressing note, I am going to stop this post. I am going to freaking write up this nasty memory - gaps and all - honestly - brutally. And hell - ill even write down all the excuses i make in my head for it - so it looks better and feels safer and the truth is safely hidden from me.

I will read it to my therapist, today. Tears be damned, let them fall - i need to get this out or my own sanity is at stake. Regardless of her wants - I need to share it and i will. Fully covered in shame and filth and dirty - i will share it all the same. Maybe she can help me figure out what it all means, eve with blanks that are there. Maybe she can help me form some sort of outline or understand this. And if it is looking to her, what it looks like to me and feels like and resonates with me - if my fears are true - i will def need her there to help me hold this because i do know know how i am going to exist if this has to be integrated into my truth.

I have never had to share anything so bad before - i am scared i wont, or she wont listen - but i know i will share it and she has to listen. I must do this for me. i feel my sanity and grip on life is breaking off a bit - i don't want to lose my shit. So, if i have to do this to save myself - i will. its about damn time i save myself.

I am just also so worried about the aftermath of THIS. I am hoping it goes much like the HUGE things i talked about last time that were so shameful and scary but it felt so much better to get out and there was not even a breakdown. It felt better getting it out - letting secrets of a lifetime, go. But with this - it changes who i am and my story and my relationship to him, who is still in my life. I worry - and with much reason - that the aftermath of THIS, will send me off the edge....I should probs point this out to her as well and maybe come up with a plan for what to do it/when it does send me over into la la land of bits and pieces of me just breaking. I will do that - nearing the end , i will spit out that i am so worried about how i am going to react to integrating this into my new reality - or even just speaking out loud about this and making it real. Ask her for suggestions on what to do to stay...okay. Bc I don't feel im going to be okay if she tells me, confirms my fears , about what this is. What this memory means.

lol, I am just waiting for error 404 because of this crap I just wrote * rolls eyes*

- bwahahhaha, i just had to erase my last few sentences - 404 again - i hate this shit.

TW: hashing out feelings and a memory

I have been feeling this all-pervasive feeling, but it comes in waves. I am not sure how to describe because it is more than just a feeling – almost a state of being. It’s been with me ever since processing this memory about the other he. I do not even know what or who, it is attached to. But let me try to describe what this feels like:

It is like this oozing, slow dripping, dark oil of despair that is has so saturated my being, it has nothing left to do but just drip right off, collecting puddles at my feet. This dark, black, thick tar of shame, that covers so completely, so strongly, that there is nothing left when it’s done, but the shame. This complete and utter hopelessness that anything is going to get better. Of knowing, really Knowing that you are never going to be safe.

It feels like falling to my knees and crying this deep, guttural, cry. And I can almost audibly hear, and I do hear it – not with my ears but somehow else but I hear it all the same. Crying out, over and over again, “I can’t do this anymore!”. This is how I have been feeling and I can’t seem to escape it unless I am stoned out of my mind or telling myself that it’s all lies – nothing happened and starting to dissociate and go numb.

And so, I am sitting here, tying to pour the remainder of this here, into my journal so I do not have to hold it. And maybe this all-pervasive Feeling, can just stop coming back. I shared a lot of it in therapy – but held back. And this still won’t leave me alone. I can’t get this out of myself – images keep popping up. Memories of related things – too dangerous to accept that truth and the truth of what happened that day, with those men and why.

I keep forcing myself to make excuses, reasons why this is all just really okay – just a misunderstanding. I am so tired of making excuses or holding things back to make sure his image isn’t further damaged – or that my truth of what happened can be something I can hold, can handle.

And this memory – these fragments – they come with such depth of fear. I have a hard time sleeping at night – unless I am holding on so tight to my stuffie – clinging to it as if it were guarding me, without it, I can’t sleep. If I wake up and I’m not holding it, I panic and need to find it. Need to feel safe. I don't want to be asleep. But I don’t want to be awake and feel so conscious of not feeling safe either. When all the memories take over.

I didn’t even tell my therapist the whole truth – and I wanted to – I needed to. I just didn’t want any of this to be true. And I hold so tight to: I don’t have all the memories – I can’t infer anything – even if it is so damn obvious. I didn’t say that I do remember things that make it even more obvious.

I didn’t say that while I was reading my journal aloud and talking about these men in this last session, I could see – I all detail, how one of them unzipped his pants and took it out. How that image was bore into my brain while I just remained silent and frozen and couldn’t get that out.

How I know that when I was walking back to the table, from somewhere – some room that I do not remember – that I know I was not in there alone. And I know I it was dirty and bad and I was so ashamed and scared.

That his warnings he gave me, before he just left me there with these men that came to me at the table– these warnings were sexual in nature: something like, to avoid this or that person, to do these or that things….i don’t know the words – I just know what they meant when I heard it. Every time he gave me, that warning, and he had before, the bad feelings would creep in and I would get scared.

My narrative was – he was warning me to protect me. More likely, he was basically letting me know what was going to happen …and maybe how to make sure im okay? I don’t know about the last part – maybe hopeful thinking.

How I remember in a way that I cannot explain – even though I do not have a full picture, I have bits and pieces of unspoken things. That I knew that each man that came to me, talking and touching me, right there in front of everyone, were going to hurt me more, I knew this is just how it starts… and there was nothing I could do, and no one would save me. And the terror and shame were stuck in my throat, and I just didn’t feel human anymore. That I remember knowing I had to do whatever they wanted. That’s just how things are.

These random images that pop into my brain, unwanted: That flash of one unzipping at taking it out. Of some shadowy like figure with no face – just this heavy body – I can see this shadow leaning over me – leaning over and covering me with his weight. Of taking someone’s hand and hating it, being led…somewhere. Knowing I cannot do anything to stop it. All this feels terrifying – so threatening to my very survival.

He was there to get money. He had stated it, multiple times. I told myself, as a narrative to keep me safe, that he was just looking for his friends to get money from them. That’s why he left. He didn’t know these 4 men were coming to hurt me. If he would have known, he would have stopped them. But just after the last man, we could leave then – perfect timing. Too perfect.

This makes no rational sense that he would bring me somewhere – and leave me there with these strangers. The warnings that weren’t warnings but something that made me feel immediately bad and dirty and scared. Not safe. And these men saying He said it was okay – that he told them I had to come with them. How did they even know him? But they did. I didn’t even see him – or know where he was.

This horrible, detailed image. Kind of like a flashback – I can’t explain it. The room the table was in, was bright. This other place was dark. The same place. The same day. I felt covered in dirt – I was dirt, I was the embodiment of dirty. And I don’t remember why or anything – just this floating memory of gagging, choking, crying. Of, I can’t breathe, I’m going to die. And the image... of him... disgusting … every gross detail of it – so close to my face.

How before I had to be around them, there was always what I thought was that warning. But never kept me safe. I used to think it was my fault that bad things happened because I was warned – I didn’t listen. But why would there be warnings if he just brought me right to them and left them alone with them.

Or being around his bad friends and she was there, and neither of them kept me safe – but she called me dirty and yelled at me and tell her kids they can’t play with me. I remember feeling broken and unwanted and playing in the dirt somewhere by myself, listening to her kids laugh and have fun. I was punished for what I did.

If they were warnings – then none of the truth about how he treated me, would be real. But it was real. The understanding what he said as a warning was my constant narrative to keep me safe when he brought me to people that hurt me – for whatever reason he did that.

…And right now, even after thinking about all this shit – I STILL feel so guilty that I have not called him and he asked me to and sounded lonely… and am actually Debating on just grinning and bearing it and calling him tomorrow. What the fuck is wrong with me?

And right now - numb, so numb with no emotional connections. Just want to stop trying. Just want to go to sleep, really. I wonder if he got money for me. I wonder if I was free. I wonder which is worse.

* ahhhh, nasty self-harm urges roaring their heads after writing this. I am Not going to do it...but this really sucks..; I hope this is not brains last ditch effort to keep the floodgates closed*