This is my life...be kind

Realizations

My wants are simple and few.
My life is nothing like most.
I'm beginning to be aware of my challenges...and the fact that I will always require help and kindness from strangers and friends. Please be kind. Please be very, very gentle....it's hard to convey how delicate is my balance.
I will probably never understand reality as you know it...likewise, you will never understand mine.

Happiness is an elusive bitch.....like a brief rainstorm in the dessert....like a white bunny with a black mask that runs and scampers away whenever I draw near.
My hope for life...is just to get through it....with the least amount of pain and distress....to heal what I can...

Life makes me angry...it feels so insurmountable and unfair. It's been an evil, wicked bitch whipping me with whips of thorns, and chains of pain. God, I was put into this world to fight and struggle, every day of every year. And at times I deeply resent it.

I am a time traveler and live in different realities I am complicated, complex and detailed.

Nothing is as it appears....
Everyone has an agenda

I wish I had valves on hands and feet, that I could open and drain away some of this pain.

I deserve kid gloves. I only hope that those that understand me treat me a little kinder and with a bigger smile and open arms. God knows I deserve it. I've grown so tired of living in this hell.

Time...I'm clueless...sometimes it moves very quick, or saunters, or disappears entirely

Sometimes I feel like a Frankenstein...this piece and that one...spare parts and discards.

I go from numb to overflow in a blink.

I cannot predict how I will feel in the next moment, tomorrow or tonight. I am one big unknown variable.

I dare say...my life story...would scare the shit out of most. Lord knows it frightens me.

Maybe I am just a dream....a small tattered cloud blowing by driven by unseen winds

Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and  be in Kansas

I want life...to start being kind to me...please....I don't ask for much...peace, love, absence of malice, warm arms wrapped around me, a smile, a hand to hold, kind words, happy eyes, validate my existence...I have been lost and alone in the cold so very long.  I deserve..I am worthy...I am

NAMI | Dissociative Identity Disorder (formerly Multiple Personality Disorder)

NAMI | Dissociative Identity Disorder (formerly Multiple Personality Disorder)

Coming Clean

At therapy today...I decided to come clean and verbally acknowledge aloud the sometimes consensual feel to the brainwashed, prisoner-victim syndrome that I experienced in the incestuous "relationship" with my father.

Some won't believe it....and they can go fuck themselves because I don't care what others believe or think of me.....but if you did something a few times every week since you were five years old...you start believing it is okay. A child knows no different than what parents teach. It was an evil agenda, but it worked.

My dad felt powerful. I got attention and affection, and one more pedophile is still free and clear to lead his normal, non remorseful life of denial.

What parent would do such a thing? Unfortunately, thousands of them. Thousands that are too afraid to speak, to break up a family unit...too afraid to admit that incest happens every day in every town......children walk around wounded, scared and scarred because we turn away and refuse to deal or acknowledge incest and childhood sexual abuse exists.

Well, my fellow survivors and sufferers....I shall speak for you. I shall not remain silent...Ever.

It really does feel like in "coming clean" that the soil and filthy of the secrets have left me.

I no longer hide from myself, what I did and what was done to me.

Secrets love closets and cobwebs, collecting dirt and decay. Secrets cause shame, and shame destroys the soul.

I really do feel a sense of clean....and a strange, unfamiliar calm....like I'm not working so hard to push away the secrets. Keeping quiet takes a lot of energy.

The murky swamp, the lake where I hid the secrets....has dried up.

I sit, on a rock, in the center of the dry lakebed......

No longer do I hide in the depths. No longer do I need murky waters to distort or get lost in.

I'm here, I'm real, I hide no more

Confusion...a dream?

Just awoke from a hellish nightmare....

A helicopter swooped in quickly through the front yard

Sirens from all directions descending a few houses down

I arose to put on shoes and figure out what was going on and where

I figured the neighbors house must be on fire

Blackout

I awoke, in my dream, bending over tying laces of pure white shoes

Thought I was down the street where the sirens and fire was

But no

Alas

I'm in a very strange world, alternate universe

That was colored in red, black and white

Parading before me were people, judges in robes, carrying wigs

Dozens of them and they were all tall and got even taller

Two or three topped twelve feet tall

I exclaimed aloud, I cursed

They being completely oblivious to me

I walked in to te next room

Blackout, again

It was night and I stood at a familiar...thought it was familiar, apartment complex with its sprinklers on

But no, I was completely lost

I found a party of older teens and young twentys

I asked a couple boys if they could help me find my way back to my city

They agreed

Blackout

I'm walking in my city with three of the young men from the party

And realized that we must have walked right past my neighborhood when I was blacked out

I stated this out loud

And we all turned back to the proper direction

I remarked how I must have to give one of them a *******

And he said no, that wasn't necessary

Blackout

I awoke, again, in my dream, sleeping in the chair, in real life that I was napping in

Whew

Then I opened my eyes and saw a couch next to me that was from another time and place

I cursed with the recognition that I was stuck in a series of endless, fearful dreams

I got up

In walks my sister and her friend

I asked her what she was doing here

She replied nonchalant, but I forget

I find my cell phone..in the dream it looks just like my real one

On it is a note

Brother and sister in laws house is on fire

#%=*

Nothing I can do about That house fire either

I heard my young son and wondered why he wasn't in school as I knew I was napping while he was in school

I was at my parents house

Staring into the darkened bedroom

My neighbor whose house I thought was on fire in the very first part of this dream, walks out of my parents bedroom freshly shaven

We exchange pleasantries

I'm not sure if I will ever find my current house

Throughout the dreams I'm afraid that I may never wake up in the right time or place

I felt perpetually lost, afraid and in need of help

Yup, that most accurately describes my current state of mind. I am shifting between alternate realities at a rapid pace. I feel very lost and uncertain ....in my dreams and in my nightmares.

Dreams speak of my inner turmoil...

Honesty

Honest: respectable, creditable, commendable

that will not lie, cheat, or steal; truthful; trustworthy

I am so honest, I'm stupid.

Really.

I see words as these concrete blocks of steadfast meaning whilst the rest of world uses them like bubbles and taffy....twisting, churning and spinning them in which ever direction and meaning works for them.

Some people are not worth the effort of my words.

I know someone that hides, keeps secrets and uses honesty to wipe her butt...it means nothing to her. Whenever possible, I avoid the dishonest.

People lie...to hide....their vulnerabilities, egocentric ideations, emotional fragility and fear of intimacy.

People steal because something is missing in their lives...usually love, parental and otherwise.

Honesty hides nothing. Arms wide one in a driving rain.

Trust is one hand reaching out, past the boundary of self. Careful now.

Growing up, there was no one to trust...so I wrapped my arms around me and started spinning, spiraling inward.

My honesty was not a virtue, just a troublemaker. I learnt to keep my mouth shut and my opinions to myself.

You know...when I was a child, if I tried to run from the unjust punishment, the penalty was far worse. I stopped running and turned head first into dads open fist.

I remember "seeing stars" on more than one occasion. Bruises on my upper arm, where he'd grab me, were common.

But I digress.

I surround myself with honest people. I can pick them out, these days. They are the ones with the genuine smile:)

Illness and Blame

While talking with my doctor yesterday, I became aware of a number of misconceptions I have carried with me.

My physical body Deserves to be ill due to my bad habits. When I said something to that effect, my doctor gave me one of those looks of pure bewilderment, that made me stop and take notice.

"I said what?....why would I think such an erroneous, misguided thing?"

I somehow got it stuck, in my warped, little brain, that I should be sick because I'm not good enough. To pay for my "sins", if you will, I need to suffer from physical malady. Hmmm. More abused child mentality at play.

At my weekly therapy session, I spent some time talking about my thoughts regarding my very frequent sicknesses. My multi-weekly rapes and assaults from my father put incredible stress on my small body. A lowered immune response is pretty damn normal with that much trauma.

My therapist agreed and said, "You are not to blame for that, either."

I have always, always blamed and castigated myself and my physical body every time I've been ill.

I have felt guilty, lazy, disappointed and downright ashamed of my poor health. I have severely blamed myself for something I felt I should have control over.

In a way, I have perpetuated the cruelty inflicted upon me, by thinking so poorly of myself.

Sigh...

My mother and siblings would blame me when I came down with strep throat or "pinworms" because then they were forced to take the icky medicine. As if I was to blame for my dad forcing me into oral and anal sex.

I felt dirty when I got sick. I blamed myself for not being "hygienic" enough. Lol. In our household, seven people routinely shared the same toothbrush. One towel was used for everyone to dry off with. I took baths with my sisters...in the same bath water we boiled on the stove after my parents and brothers had bathed. I picked "clean" clothes off mold and maggot infested floors to wear to school. I rarely had a nutritious meal and spent a fair amount of time hungry. I heard of fresh fruits and vegetable, but only received frozen peas and cauliflower. And I blamed myself?

My eyes are open and now I see.

I've been mean to my body when I should respect and treat it with great care.

No one ever cared for me when I was sick. I was treated as contagious and sequestered into a room somewhere away from the babies and other kids. It felt like I was being punished. My body felt sick. I needed care and comfort. And I was shut away and shunned. Hmmmm. Damn, that hurts. Wisdom and truth. Tears of truth and realization confirm a lightbulb moment.

God, I've carried this grief for forever.

Trust me..I didn't get sick for the attention. It was all negative. It meant a failure on my part. It meant isolation and ostracism. And I tried so hard to never get sick. I'd blame and hate myself with every ailment.

I'm spending hours apologizing to my body for the mistreatment. I'm working at relieving the guilt I feel. I'm forgiving myself...that's where my thoughts and efforts reside. Sigh

Random Thoughts

I like it when I find people that know how amazing I am.

I'm going to be ok...it will be new and different...and I'm not even sure what that will feel like

I'm on a journey of a thousand miles

I like it when people smile and light up when they see me...yeah...it's new and different, too

I'm finding..or maybe learning to see people that like me and want to help me

Siblings and the Pivotal Decision

I was talking to a friend of mine, the other day. We were discussing foreign exchange students and could she, one of the strongest people I have ever met, ever leave her country and go live for a year with a strange family in a completely unfamiliar place.

She said that she probably could not.

I did that. Over twenty years ago, I made a critical, life altering decision to leave my family of origin and traveled to a completely foreign place where I knew not another soul.

I decided that I had to stop my abusive, molesting father from coming over during "lunch" to help me "fix" this or that in my new apartment. I felt powerless to stop him.

With but a few dollars, three bags of personal belongings and

a beat-up, rusted car, I left.

I had made the choice to leave my dad...but I also left so much more.

I have over a handful of siblings and even more aunts, uncles and grandparents that I also left.

I choose me....and I knew that my decision was permenant. Once left, I could Never go back.

I've never fully grieved the loss of my siblings, my bestest friends whom I loved dearly and deeply. They liked me. They loved me. And I made the choice to leave them, to save myself in the only way I knew how.

I've really tried so hard not to think about them. The loss was and still is, incrediblly large. My youngest brother was five. They were my allies, constant companions, my only true friends.

I went from a very large family to being completely and utterly alone. I had lost them all and everything I knew and all familiar, in an instant. The sudden aloneness was deafening, oppressive and surreal.

I had never fully grieved the loss.

My tears are odd...very heavy as if they come from a reservoir way, way down, buried deep. I tried to pretend it wasn't there...the sadness, the grief.

I dont know what lies they were told regarding my sudden disappearance. Even now, with a very distant and strained...relationship...if you can call seeing each other at funerals a relationship....I don't know what they think of me....I'm just someone that they used to know.

I want them to know...I've always wanted my siblings to know....they I didn't leave and abandon them....I ran to save myself. And yeah, I do feel some guilt...but it was the only way I could survive.

I don't want them to hate me. It means so much that they understand and know that I love them, even now. I know...I broke their hearts...just as it broke mine.

They looked up to me. I very much loved them.

And now...we sit across the table...miles apart, in silent wonderings.

I have given up, after many futile attempts, the idea that I will ever mean what I once was...to them. And I have to be content with that.

Did I make the right decision? Absolutely.

But I grieve the loss.

I made a decision few ever face

And fewer yet could ever make

I chose me

And I am an extremely remarkable and strong person

Healing my wounded self

I've been busy the past three weeks. It may not appear so, to the outside observer, but there is lots of inner work taking place. Life has been a big blur as my focus and energies have been spent remembering, processing and trying to comprehend the enormity of what I've experienced.

Few can comprehend the physical pain I've endured. Fewer yet can understand the incredible emotional distress I face. Sometimes it feels like I am one big walking wound seeking shelter or a healing salve and a safe, kind soul to apply it.

I believe me. I believe all the gory details that I have been seeing and experiencing these weeks. It's time to acknowledge what was done and the damage left in its wake.

I now understand why I am deeply bothered by seeing a wounded, sick or injured animal. My father routinely tortured and killed my beloved pets in front of me. Still reeling from that revelation.

I'm not sure if or when I'll be able to get close to animals again without fear of harm coming to them. Maybe, I don't know. Too new. Too fresh. Too hurt.

All these secrets, burdens and false thought patterns have been swirling so long...a whirlpool constantly dragging me down.

The earth energy has changed. Summer is leaving and fall arrives. I sleep, almost obsessively and whenever possible.

Therapy and therapist is going very well. Having a good therapist to trust makes all the difference in my world. I have something to hold onto. A place to et it all hang out and be okay with myself. A place to finally share the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have never had a reason to lie. I'm starting to believe in me. I'm in here. I'm okay.

Yes, somedays I acutely feel the pain of rape and betrayal, but I also have warm moments.

Im not as numb as I was. Grief and emotions fall more freely.

I feel vulnerable and exposed. I stay closer to home and I don't go outside my home when I feel very emotional and vulnerable. I have to take care of myself first.

I'm working on releasing some of the shame, self-hatred, body distrust and pain.

I'm a damn hard worker.

I'm doing okay.

I hope you are too.

Be well.

Love yourself.

Be kind.

Thanks for reading