Rantings and Revelations ~ TW

My brain is so fuzzy and I really have to concentrate on thinking and what I am typing. It is taking so long just to type. I think , in my desperate Need to make everything go away - the anger, the pain, the gnawing at my soul - the constant triggering and emotional pain and whatever it was that was plaguing my entire being - that I took way too many anxiety meds. I got my pain meds, late last night ( thank god - the pain was at it's worst last night) and I was in so much pain, I doubled the dose - of a strength that was already upped from my usual dose. I think I took too many. I have such brain fog and my body is tired and I can't think clear like I normally can. I am hoping that this will eventually wear off - well, it has to wear off. I just don't know how long I am going to have to wait.

I did research last night, before I got my pain meds back - on the side effects of withdrawal. Turns out you are never supposed to just stop the meds, you need to taper off or the withdrawal is horrible. I can't believe they literally made me wait almost 5 days to get another script.

I think the side effects were really adding to my desperation of how I was feeling. It had said to expect anxiety, self-harm, sui/ci/d-al idea-tion, depression, confusion, seizures and on and on. Well, hell, that explains so damn much of what I was going through.

And I so scared myself during this meltdown of mine, made worse by withdrawals. I can not drinks with meds that I am on, but I was so desperate to get that feeling out, that I drank it like milk. And taking all the anxiety meds - and yes, it fucked with my lungs - and at the time, I didn't care. ( I am breathing fine now...I think). I scared myself with the pain being so bad and so beyond what I could hold, that I no longer cared if I wok/e. That I actually boiled that water in the pot to SH - but I managed to NOT SH!

So despite going through absolute hell - I realized something coming out on the other side: I am so much stronger than I give myself credit for. My resolve to not SH anymore is so damn strong because my anger is at my dad, the other he and just...all the assholes that stole my life, not me. Even in this depth of darkness ( and withdrawals) and complete and utter desperation, I held that god damn pain. I sat with it until I thought it was going to take over my very being and I would cease to ever be me again. I did that...and I am okay. I NEVER want to go through that ever again. I felt like the very core of who I was - was dissolving right in front of me and I would never be okay again.

I don't understand how healing can be so damn hard. I survived the abuse. You would think I would survive the healing...I mean, I am, but it doesn't feel like surviving. But today - even through the fog and haze of all the meds I took to cope - I feel better. I feel closer to being, ME.

I have my session today - I feel so fuzzy I do not know if I can even find the words to speak to her and say what I was going through. It feels far away and hard to grasp. Hell, I feel far away and hard to grasp. But I am going to try. I did send her like , not kidding, 7 pages of my journal. I did send her the journal with me naming him as my dad.

I have no idea what we are going to discuss because it is just so all over the place lately. I think I should tell her what I journaled about the reasons I want to keep him in my life - like, what it is I think I am getting or what I am trying to get , with keeping him in my life. And the guilt and pressure to call him back and just do whatever it is I am supposed to do. Ahhh - I think that is the child part of me thinking - the adult part knows I do NOT have to do that and my opinions and thoughts and what I want to do - matters. My feelings matter. My boundaries matter. My voice and what I have to say, matters.

It is the child part of me - that says, I HAVE to do what he says - what they all say. That I have to take care of them and make sure they are okay and their feelings are not hurt . That I have to do what I am told so I can avoid his anger - his anger : so dangerous. Life threatening. And it was. It is not now. But there were so many times growing up that I thought he was going to kill me. TW: for the section starting with TW and I will say when TW , ends. - talking about physical abuse and times I Felt and in reality, was almost kil*le/d by my dad in his rage.

TW start: He..ahhh, I am so used to saying He and not naming him. My dad was driving, so fast and so angry - raging. The family was in the car ( I was in there, too - I do not count myself as part of that family). i don't know how old I was but I kept telling him that there are signs saying he needs to go into the other lane- that this road is not finished - road ending - there is a drop - the road literally is going to stop and we are going to plummet down and drive right off the road. We are going to di*e). He just was creaming at me to shut up and drove faster and faster. They also saw the road ending and were screaming for him to stop - we were all crying. Praying, I was praying and preparing to di!e. Everything was in slow motion, I just kept praying and bracing for it. I stopped screaming and went into this still and silent mode - just preparing for it. At the Last minute - the literal last minute that before it would have been too late - he realized what he was doing and screeched the car to a halt- tires spinning, the whole car circling out of control. And we stopped. We were still alive. Tires of the car almost touching the part of the road that just ended - just became this huge drop off - no more road. He did almost kil--l us - all of us - me. Himself. Because of this rage.

Or the time I stuck up for my sister who was getting screamed at and hit for something. She didn't even do what he said she did. But he got so mad at me and I ran out the door - running for my life as he chased me holding this branch of a tree that he had earlier sawed off. Chasing me and I ran as fast as my legs could take me, terrified because he was in a rage and i knew, if he caught me, he would beat me until I died. He did catch me, and beat me pretty bad - but I didn't die. But I thought I would. So many times because his rage, and taking it out on me, us - I thought i was going to be kill**ed by my dad - I thought he hated me - THAT much.

I always stuck up for my sisters - my dad and his wife used to call me the lawyer, because I was always trying to stick up and protect them. Hahaha, spending my childhood protecting my sisters and this is how they treat me now: they hate me - they spend their time trying to hurt me as much as they can. They are fed this HATE, HATE for me , fueled by their mother who hates me so much. I spent much of my life trying to understand why she hated me so much, hurt me, abused me in so many ways. I didn't do anything to her. She still hates me and is cruel to me every damn time I am around her- so cruel still.

But I get it - I was his first wife's daughter. I was the " white" one. I didn't even look like I belonged to them. I was the physical reminder of my mother - his first wife. And he tried to keep my mom and his new wife, in his life and tried all the time to have them both around - like a fucking harem. No wonder his wife hated me so much - it wasn't me she hated, I did nothing but be born. She hated my mother because my mom was a threat to her - in her mind. I represented my dad's love for my mom, still. TW: end

Ha - love. I do not even think my dad loved my mom. He cheated on her and hit her. Treated her like complete shit. And all the whole, my mom still tried to make sure he was okay - even when he was married to that bitch. When they had no food - she brought some. When the kids needed toys - she brought some.

OMG - I get it. The guilt - even if someone treats you like absolute shit and hurts you, it is still your duty , " duty", to make sure that they are okay - care for their needs and feeling. I think THIS is where I get this sense of guilt from and this misplaced sense of taking responsibility for others feelings and if they are okay - even if they hurt you so bad. But at the same time, it's so confusing because she was always telling me to not sit and take shit from my dad. But how could I hold that when I grew up seeing her do just that - take the shit and still care for them. I am NOT my mother - I reject having to make sure my abusers are okay and making sure their needs are met - ofc , not inappropriate needs. Well, some inappropriate needs - just not sexual ones anymore.

And his anger - his rage, was so destructive, so dangerous. No wonder I feel so afraid of my own anger. And when I let my anger out - when I was a ragy, angsty teen - It was destructive for me too - I only knew the rage he showed. I never hurt anyone - but I could only get out this anger, physically. Kicking holes in the walls, destroying things, slamming doors so hard I broke them. So much anger - years of being abused - so much anger about it. But I couldn't touch why - why I had that anger. I just knew it was there. So yes, I am afraid of anger - of how all of them, my dad, his wife and my other main abuser - how they showed anger and rage - so hurtful, scary and destructive, But I have proven to myself now - that I can hold this anger, and even the gnawing - and not be destructive.

Yes, some destruction came out - trashing the kitchen, throwing shit against the wall - but I claimed it, I got myself back really quick. I made sure to apologize and fix everything. I think I need to learn how to hold this anger and the gnawing and bubbling beneath the surface - the clawing - and express it to get the energy OUT of me. And in safe way that is not destructive to things or myself. I have a right to be angry and a lot to be angry about. And I have a right to express it. I just never learned how. I feel like a child - or so stupid. But I do not know how to let it out...then it sits in me and eats me alive.

I am scared about this therapy appointment today. I am scared I will not be able to stop crying. I am scared because I named one of the he's as my dad - she knows - it's out. I know. I have accepted. I am afraid the anger will blow and show up and I will not know how to hold it in. Maybe she can teach me what to do with it - idk. At the same time - I am so damn happy I have a session today because I need it so bad - I can't keep going on like this. I really was afraid of what I would do to myself and hw the anger would come out. But I refused to let it out - and it was tearing me apart.

But, somehow - I survived the past few days of pure hell. I went into the complete darkness and made it to the other side :) Fuck, I am resilient.

I have this...sense of self back that has been lost for so long in this deep, dark muck of the aftermath of abuse and trying to work through it and heal. I was really nervous my session today. I gave her my journal - seven damn pages of memories of abuse. And with naming him as my father. I didn't put everything down - I did hold back some that I just couldn't write out.

But she didn't look at me like I am damaged, she didn't hate me and leave or look at me with pity. She offered compassion and stood up for me. She gave me a few things to do in order to give a voice to little me - or to...honor, little me, and all she/me went through. And I did one of them - and it felt so damn good.

I have, on my bedroom wall , a collage of portraits I had collected from National Geographic magazines. Pictures that were so moving, poignant and had touched my soul. Mostly portraits, faces - all that had so much emotion and expression - they had a story to tell. And it is kind of like honoring those emotions and their stories, on my wall. Like, I saw them - not looking past them - I stopped and SAW them.

She sees this on my wall during our telehealth sessions. She asked me about them today and I told her what I just explained. She suggested that I too, have something to say - a story - emotions that need to be held and honored. She suggested I put a picture of me when I was little - little me should be up there with them. She too has a story. She too, needs to be honored. And after the session, I felt really empowered. I wanted to do just that - with the little me picture.

So , I did. I went through - painful as it is to look at old family photos because it is so damn triggering plus there are so many damn pictures of my abusers and my abusers with me in the pics and you can just see it in my face, the fear and pain. But I found a few pictures of me, little me. Pictures that captured different emotions and aspects of her/me. And I lovingly taped them up - intertwined in this sacred collage of honoring. And it felt so damn good.

She also was telling me about how this is grieving - grieving the loss of my childhood, of safety, of not having a family that could keep me safe. She suggested taking 24 hours to just self care and allow myself to cry - to grieve - to honor her pain and what she went through. To connect with her, in a way. And I think I am going to do this. Not today or anything - but I AM going to be doing this. Even though I do feel some guilt for doing that - taking that time for her/me - like I so not deserve it. Ugh, back to the guilt.

I decided to NOT call my dad back today. I decided to NOT listen to his voicemail. I decided NOT to even read my sisters text or respond. I am going to - maybe tomorrow or some time before my next session ( so I can process that with her) ... unless I change my mind. lol. I just do not want to call him or talk to him with all this pain and abuse memories from him so fresh in my mind. And after naming him, my dad, as one of the abusers - things are so real that I can never lie to myself again.

I also decided that I am going to name the other he. I am taking my power back, one small step ( huge step) at a time. I decided that since I am going to read, out loud ( ugh, might take like 2 or 3 sessions to even get all that out and read it - with multiple breakdowns in-between sentences) the journal entry that she already read - about my abuse....I am going to re-write it...add ( maybe) the things I left out because they were too painful to look at and too fearful. And I am going to write the other he's name in there. No more he and he and she. But again, this is off in the near future - but not so near - lol. I need to work up to that. Well, work up to READING that out loud .

I might work on writing some of this tonight - maybe just writing his name and relation instead of he...in the journal. I think I will hold off on writing more of the abuse stuff for tonight. I am feeling good and in a safe place. I think id like to sit in this for a while before stirring shit up . Plus - these pain meds are AWESOME. bwahhahah - I feel great. And makes me super calm, anxiety is gone - and makes me so comfy that I just want to sleep. And helps with the major pain I have - there is always pain, constantly. But these really help. I am so looking forward to a calm, comfy and safe sleep :)

I remembered parts of myself today, that I thought I lost. But I didn't. I just couldn't see them anymore. Good stuff about me. Passions, interests, talents, ideas...I cannot express how good this feels. It is a reunion of myself, in a way.

I think I am going to take the rest of tonight to just, get in touch with those parts of me. To remember...me. To self care. To listen to music that reminds me of who I am. Speaking of! I want to share a song here in my journal. And every time I think I've lost myself again - I am going to come in here and look at this, and click my link and listen to who I am and the direction I am heading. The real and untainted me. Not me without my past or the abuse - but me despite all of that.

https://youtu.be/13Q_GYN9RMU?list=PLy3uZXtZjRmGMyPrT-j3__jjZowqspUh4

^^^^ - click this link bliss, when you forget who you are. :)

I think I am going to go name the other he in my journal that I will eventually share with her, out loud. And eventually share here, in my journal. And then take some me time - to just enjoy the rest of the night . Go look at little me in the collage. To rest in this feeling of things are okay right now - despite everything. Hang onto this while I can, LOL! Perhaps maybe do some artwork - I have not done any of that in so long. But then get some good sleep - I have SO much sleep I need to catch up on. And not get up at 5 am. My usual. Allow myself to rest.

Well, so much for this great empowerment I had and this sense of reconnection and freedom. That was short lived. Woke up today to my bitch ass sister texting me cruel things because I didn't text her back right away or answer her calls or my dads calls. She kept saying, why do you despise me so much and have so much ill will against me. OMG - all I did was not return texts for 2 days and didn't answer her call. On and on about what a horrible person I am and how great she is for even trying to be nice to me.

Them THEN, she throws arrows of guilt at my heart by saying, dad thinks you hate him and doesn't want to talk to him. WTF???? I can not do this anymore, I can't! But I am a dumb stupid piece of shit fuck - and I know I will just continue to give in. They find my weak spots and dig in and dig in until there is nothing left of me. They will not stop until I d/i/e.

So then, I rushed to the phone to call him. Gotta make sure he doesn't feel unloved or I don't want to talk to him. And he talks AT me for almost 2 hours! He did not hear One damn word I said. I asked questions about what he was talking about, brought up stuff to talk about, made comments - all of them ignored - like he didn't even HEAR a word I said to him. I honestly start questioning myself to see if I even Have a voice - if people can actually Hear me! Its no fucking wonder I struggle so damn much with speaking out loud.

He didn't want to talk to me, he was not hurt - it didn't even matter that I was on the other end of the phone. I didn't exist. Then he says, after all I endured for almost 2 hours - oh, I got a call - or you do, gotta go. click. WTF? WTF? WTF?

I am so angry! I am so angry! I am so angry! He doesn't Deserve to have me in his life. But I have so much guilt and am given so much god damned guilt - I always go back. And it is ALWAYS the same. ALWAYS. There is no hope things will get better. I know they won't. They can't. And I feel so god damned trapped there.

I am debating on telling them I can't afford a phone, and getting a new number and not giving it to them. I know I won't...but I Want to. I feel I can not exist and still have them in my life. And even knowing this - that it is ki//ll/ing me from the inside out, I still chose to stay out of this god damned guilt. They do not even Deserve my compassion!

I don't know if I should scream or cry - tbh, I have been doing both today. I can't heal with them in my life. I guess I am choosing to not heal. And that makes me so damn sad. And I know I am going to SH over this...over and over and over. FUCK!

And vent ok? Vent as much as you want - get it out ok? It's actually good that you're allowing yourself to feel hate towards them - Try not to hate yourself too much though - because you're only doing what you know - you're trying to unlearn those things but it's hard. It took years to learn and unfortunately it takes years to unlearn

It's ok too to get angry and upset with me ok? I don't take offense to it - I know you're hurting right now - so it's ok to come right out and say something like that's really f*cking stupid Soul - ok?

*leaving a safe hug*

I have had my mother's divorce notes and official papers, for over a year. I don't know why, but today I decided to read them. And I learned very disturbing things about my father that I didn't know.

I knew he beat her. I didn't know the extend of it - she never really told me. She talked about - only twice with me. She never told me the extent.

I remember him beating her, the physical fights, the screaming, throwing things. The anger - the rage.

I don't know how in the world I remember this - I was so little. But there was this bouncy chair I had that my mom would put me in when she was in the kitchen. And I remember being in it - not a new memory , I have always remembered this. And they were fighting, I was scared. I don't have words to put to this memory - just feelings and hearing it and watching it.

Him holding a pot in the air, at her. Hitting her with it. Them fighting and screaming. Him hitting her, over and over again. The yelling. How it was in the kitchen and moved down the hall - and then he left. It is so hard to put to words- but its like a movie I can watch at any time. I can still see everything that happened.

I learned from reading this that he beat the living shit out of her all the time. He strangled her. He tried to kill her. He threatened her life - they were still married.

I am literally shaking as I write this.

That he vacillated between spending time with me and complete neglect; Ignoring me like I didn't exist. That when he had the baby ( my first half sister that I have no contact with anymore - back in the day of MySpace, she put my picture and phone number and address on there - and had people harass me all the time. A;; the time. Sent baby formula and pampers to my house - saying I am a slut. Hacked my computer and told my gf at the time that I was cheating on her - emailed my friends as me and broke friendships - on and on). ..so when she was born, he stopped visiting me and gave all his attention to his new family. He Still doesn't treat me like I AM PART OF HIS FAMILY.

I learned that I had said, I didn't want to l/iv.e with him. That I didn't even want to be around him.

And the sexual abuse she knew about - she didn't even state Any of that in the custody and divorce papers. She kept that secret.

That I had behavioral problems and developmental delays because of my father and what he put me and she , through.

That my timeline of understanding how old I was with the abuse - it was all off! I was wrong. I remember, in detail - with feelings only - no words and no understanding of what was happening, the very first time he raped me. He was living with us still. They got divorced when I was 4. Separated when I was 3, I wasn't 4 when he first raped me, he was still living in the house. I had to have been 3. I am hoping 3 and not 2. But either way - who would DO that to such a small child? To their flesh and blood? 3. 3 or 2. I can not wrap my head around this. Not at all.

And that made me remember - not a memory that was lost, but one I have always held: being at my dad's girlfriend's house ( his wife, now) and she told me that she was going to have a baby - but I had to not tell my mom, I had to keep it a secret. And that my mom was sick and going to di/e, so I better be nice to her bc she was going to be my mom. And my father was there, right there when she said that and he didn't stop her or comfort me...I think that was the day she was sexually abusing me, too. or first started.

My father was never a father to me. He never loved me. He is still not a father and he is never going to be. I don't know if he eve loves me. I do not know if he even knows how. He is there for his other family, his kids, his wife - thought they treat him like complete shit. I kiss his ass - and he is still not there for me in any way.

I was so ready to tell my aunt this morning what I had read. I know she knew something was wrong from the way she was looking at me, hanging around me - talking to me. But, I couldn't get the words out. I couldn't tell her he had strangled her, tried to kill her, beat her every damn day. I think she might know some of it and is not telling me , thinking I do not know and she is saving me from this.

So many damn family secrets.

...I can't get over this...my fault. Years of abuse from my father and from the other he. It Was my fault. Even thought she walked in on it - with both of them...i always said nothing happened - every damn time she asked. It was my fault she didn't know - didn't stop them. My fault . omg, I am so so fucking sorry. If I just would have said something - I could have been saved. My worst fears - true. My fault.

I can't - I just can't . How am I supposed to get up every day and face myself???? My fault.

I am losing my shit - I am. I can't hold this - my fault.

This is just how it was , last night. its all too much to hold. I can't hold this. This is just growing and growing and i am losing myself in it - too big to hold but i cant not hold it. But i have no choice - i think i am going to break - my fault.

I don't know what to do. i will never be okay. my fault. i could have stopped all of this. my fault, not hers.

...and last night, i was so upset, so overwhelmed - that I took my pain meds with my anxiety meds - just so i could sleep. I assumed I would be okay. I know I was not supposed to do that bc it decreases my lung function. I was so upset I took that risk.

Then about 2 hours later - they both kicked in at the same time. And It was so damn hard to breathe. i took my inhaler, i used my oxygen. I emailed my best friend who i was talking to about what i read - some of it, not all of it. She doesn't know my secrets. I texted her that the meds were an accident and if something happened - to know it was not a s/ui-cide. I Really thought i was going to d/i*e. Then I passed out . Just woke up half an hour ago.

She never texted me back. I think, maybe she is mad at me? Maybe i said something wrong? maybe this is what happens when you tell??... my fault.

I am so upset with myself that i told her and now she doesnt want to talk to me. I am so upset that i was so damn upset that I almost didn't wak/ke up because of how stupid i was taking those pills. I am so upset with myself that that I always lied and never told my mom.

I cant hold this - this guilt, this pain. I cant get through today. Why the hell am i even up - i am so grogggy.

I want to text my therapist today - i think i need to. how do i hold this info - that i never told - i could have saved myself. not my moms fault for not saving me - MY FAULT.

im going the fuck back to sleep - i can barley even see. eyes are so blurry. too much medicine.

Maybe it just should have taken me out - soi didnt have to live with the realization thtat it IS my fault - not hers for not saving me.

No. I'm sorry but NO. It is NOT your fault. You were so young. A baby. How could you talk about what you didn't understand? How could you explain what you didn't have the words to explain? She had to know whether you said NO or not she had to have known. Simulation or not it was still wrong. She washed you up afterwards so she knew. She put it in the paperwork so she knew it was wrong. She probably phrased it that way to keep him out of jail. To keep him out of trouble. It's just sick. But she was probably afraid of him because of what he did to her. Not that its a good excuse but it's understandable?

I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude all the time on your thoughts or invalidate anything but I desperately want you to see what I see. That it's not your fault. It's NOT your fault!

I do not know how much more of this I can handle. I really don't. Every night all the shit hits the fan. It all comes tumbling inward. And every day I struggle. There is NO relief - ever. I can't sleep anymore. I get maybe - an hour, maybe 2 a night, max - on a good night. - for so damn long ( except if I just drug myself to damn near de/a/th). Just up all night so UPSET that I fear these emotions and memories might k/i/ll me. Sometimes, wishing they would. Then when I get sleep - nightmares. There is no escape. ..And speaking of no escape - my sister is texting me atm . fuck that - i am not even reading it.

I can not sit with this all the time - it taints everything. It is so huge - these massive feelings and every day I fight to endure the day so I can just try to sleep. And every night I am up all night thinking, I can not CANNOT - hold all of this anymore.

It feels like it is going to destroy me. It is so big. Overwhelming. Nothing helps.

I do not even know what I am saying or thinking or feeling at this point. I just pray, yes, at this desperate point, I Pray - pray that I can make it through this and that I can find , somewhere out there or within me - a damn fucking break - just for a bit - from all this shit bc i really dot think i can do this 24-7 anymore.

Ahhhhh! I am so damn angry!

I have had this seething anger for so so long. It is seeping out everywhere and I do not know how to express it. Suppressing it has just made it so much worse. I found this stupid plate my dad bought me...gave it to me from the salvation army thrift store as a present, with price still on: 3.00. lol. Just some crap he picked up for me - nothing I liked - it is something he liked at the time - collecting these stupid plates. I almost took it out tonight, in the middle of the night - to the street and smashed it on the ground into a million pieces. I didn't though.

I guess my anger has been coming out without me even knowing it. My aunt got all pissed about it and started yelling at me. All because I put a spatula on the counter too loud. It's a fucking plastic spatula - how LOUD can that be? She basically told me...no, she Did tell me, not to express my anger in her home or around her . and I have to smile more. basically, fake happy and choke and d/i/e on my anger. But oh, it's fine and dandy for her to yell at me when she's mad at me - throw her fits...take it out on me. But god forbid I EXPRESS mY ANGER.

So I have been trying to shove it down and its getting bigger. I have had insomnia for days and days. I can't sleep. I am so angry at night. I am so angry at everyone and everything and myself. I have no way of getting this out. I cant take this anymore.

And just below this anger is this deep sorrow and this intense need to just...sob. For hours and hours - it might last the rest of my life. I might never stop. But I can't express That either. Not here, not in her home.

It is like she is taking away any right I have to my emotions or expressing them - even in a correct way. I can't be angry, I can't cry. Nothing.

My anger is getting so much worse - and it is taking its toll me on. The anger, the sorrow, the pain - its CONSTANT. So much so that unless I overmedicate myself to the point of my lungs not working even worse than they do not function now - I cannot sleep. Ever it feels like. I do not know how many days it has been. Even overmedicated I only got a few hours of sleep.

I am so close to popping so many pills right now just so I can sleep. Get some god damn peace .

I just endure each day - filling it with pointless activities to pass the time - so I can go to bed and endure the next day. I am literally, just wasting each day...waiting to the day I d/i/e. I am just waiting for de/ath. I do not even feel human anymore. I do not feel alive. There is NO joy in my days and there has been no joy for so long , I do not remember what joy feels like.

And I feel like I do not even have human status - I never have. I work for my aunt - all damn day - Literally, All day: I cook all the meals, I clean, I bring in all the groceries and put then away - I do dishes all damn day and then put them away - and then do more dishes. My entire day is devoted to HER. I get up ...well, back when I was sleeping, I got up every day at 3 or 5 am - Just to have time away from this constant work for her, away from her - some alone time in this house...trying to find some peace.

I work for her . I devote my day to doing everything she wants. Yesterday I broke down and just cried because all I do is cook and clean and dishes and groceries and all this shit she wants me to do - and I have nothing in my life. I do not get all of my needs met and I never have any of my wants met. I am so broke. I have 0 income, 0 money. In return for all I do, she helps pay for my medicine ( its expensive) and a little allowance of money for for each week - which I use most of to buy thigs I need that are more important than food.

But she said, finally - that if she had a personal chef and someone to do all I do for her - she would pay them. So, today she said she is going to offer me some pay for all I do - but here's the catch - she is adding so much more to my to do list, daily. And she will " inspect" all I do to make sure it meets her standards. I am not kidding. God, so - I do not do Enough for her- wtf wtf wtf.

And she is so obsessed with running out of money and fear and she is the cheapest person I have ever met in my life. We did not have tomatoes in the house for over a year, because she said they were too expensive - she would not pay the price. Ummmm, they are TOMATOES. They did Not cost too much - she was just mad they went up a few cents in price. Its crazy.

So, although I am grateful for getting scraps from her ( that's all i am worth and i know it), I know that the money I will be getting at the end of the week of working all day and into the night for her - it will be such a small tiny amount - that I still will not be able to buy anything unless i save for months and months. It Is that bad, yes. And she feels like she is doing me a huge favor. But guaranteed - it will be way below minimum wage because she does not value me or the work I do.

And right now - i am so fucking pissed! This anger will not go away - its nearing 5 am now, too late to go outside and break the plate. so another day of stuffing all my anger in. But bright side - I am not self harming - not on my skin anyways.

But I think I am still self harming - just in different ways. Taking too many meds- not taking my meds at all - I've stopped taking my inhaler for my lungs, i started smoking cigarettes - taking risks with mixing meds in order to knock me out so i do not have to feel all the pain - on and on. But I do not think I am mad at myself. I just do not know how to get the anger out - so I turn it inwards and hurt myself.

God - I am so tired yet so wide awake. How many days can a person go without sleep before something horrible happens to them? I know I can not go to bed. It's morning. Im up. Drinking my coffee. starting my stupid day. Another stupid lifeless day.

This anger is going to roar its ragefull head soon. I can feel it. I go 45mph down a 25mph roads - road rage is kicking in. Tiny things are making so angry - I do not know where to put this anger or where it is coming from. I researched trauma and anger and there is a huge link. I just wish I could put my finger on why I am so mad and just get this out - but how can I in a house where I am not to express any emotions that are not " happy".

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

I am not looking forward to the work"" talk with my aunt - I am worried about how much more she is going to add to my daily to do list. She says i have to be busy all day and afternoon, possibly night - just like i would a job - 9 to 5 or more. Do nothing but her stuff until I am " off". I already spend my days like this for her. What the fuck else is she going to make me do???? Why is my time worth nothing to her?

i hate my life

i hate myself

I HATE EVRYTHINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG