Saturday, August 14, 2010

Independant

So, I'm trying to be a bit more independant from my parents. I live with them and my siblings. I don't think they'll try to throw me out yet, seeing how my older brother is still living here. Anyway, I don't want to depend on them for when I need stuff:
Trinkets
Candy
Toys
Games
Movies
And such distractions. I need a lot of distractions. I've always needed them. But lately, they give me a look that says "Grow up already!" when I ask pretty please for X or Y. Not that they refuse my requests. I wish they did, but they don't. They oblige me, and get me what I ask for. It's wonderful and what have you, but it doesn't help me not depend on them. And I want to be able to depend on me. And I want to not feel like my debt to them keeps growing every day.
Rant, rant, rant.
The first place I applied to answered me right away
Anyway, this is what I'm up to now. Have at it girl! Get a jorb! Where shall I look next...?

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Break Me

I found a scary e-mail in the back of my inbox today. After reading it, I can only vaguely remember writing it. I haven't check this address in a while, so I could've just forgotten about it. I meant to put it up here when I sent it. The subject was Break me like this posts title.
*Strong language, & triggering thoughts ahead* Please do not read if you aren't safe.


Fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
Is that it?
The reason I want to cut my hair short
Having long hair pretty much has defined me as a woman
Long hair is feminizing
Femininity is the same as weakness
Females are weak
Long hair makes me weak
I feel the urgent need to be penetrated
I don't want to feel this
The urge has been growing
Along with the thought of lopping off all of my hair

Is this me trying to protect myself?
From this urge?
By making myself more boyish
Less feminine
Less weak
Will the urge stop?

Not to say I'm in any danger if it doesn't stop
I don't leave the house
My friends are out of town still
And going outside where people can see me shakes me up
I set foot outside and a soft smile spreads over my lips
It's a shield
They're gaze glances off

So no
I'm not in any danger of letting my urges beat me
Because there is no one that will make it happen for me
I'm "safe"
So to speak
But not from me
And not from this urge

I'm not looking for pleasure
I'm looking to be looked down on
I want to be shamed
This is what I'm looking for
Shame
I need to be made filthy
I don't know why
I hate being female
I'm so weak
And my emotions rule me
I liked it better when I didn't know why I was sad
When I was just numb
Now everything hurts
and everything sets me off
I want to be penetrated
It hurts to say it
But those words keep running through my head
Shut up already
No one wants you
No one is going to hurt you like this
You're "safe"
So be still
Be still
Please be still


Just in case, I did cut my hair, and the urge did stop. I don't want to be humiliated anymore. In fact, I feel very safe.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Detach

I've been thinking, as per usual.
I think the reason I get hurt so easily, is because I attach to anyone and everyone. Even if they aren't particularly kind to me.
I need to start working on detaching myself from these people, even if they've told me they're my friends, so that I don't hurt myself. Because I do, I hurt myself every second I'm not in contact with at least one person I'm attached to. So I'll have to 'ween' myself off of my addiction of being accompanied all the time. Not that hard, I hope.
But Ive noticed how desperate I get when I'm waiting for someone, or when someone suddenly has to leave me for whatever reason. I get anxious when I feel I'm being rejected, when I feel alone. All because I attach to everyone like it's nothing.
So, I'll be working on re-directing my attachments. It's all I can think of. Instead of people, I'll cling to things. I can have things on me all the time, and things won't leave me. I can lose them, but then it'll really, actually be my fault. It won't be my imagination that it's m fault. It sounds better than what I'm doing now.
I'll find more things to distract myself with in the meantime; distract myself from the fact that the people I cling to are not available whenever they become so. To stop myself from hanging out in places they show up, desperately looking for them in every face. Staring at the list of people that are online until I see their names light up.
It's gotten really bad.
I need to let them go.
And cling to either things
Or to someone who is there all the time
The difficulty with clinging to God, is that I don't believe He's there for me.
Maybe this is why I desperately attach to whomever crosses my path.
I guess I'll have to work on this as well.
Isn't it easier to attach to God instead of things, than to God instead of people?

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Anger

To begin healing from SA (sexual abuse), you need to express your anger I don't know how to do this. Every time I try to feel any anger I just come up blank. Ain't got none. I just can't find it.
Oddly, I get pissed off about anything, especially meaningless things. I scream and I stomp my foot.
"I told you not to put cilantro in the soup!"
"Dammit, I already picked up my room!"
"I'm washing the dishes now! Go ask the internet!"
Yeah. Pretty dumb, but so it goes. They only last an instant, a brief flare of anger is all I can manage. Mostly though, I think it might be because my family does not approve of anger. They open their eyes very wide, and in silence glare at me, until I have to lower my eyes and say I'm sorry. I can't because it's not allowed, and it is not safe for me to be angry at home. I can be angry at myself, that anger is always there somewhere, ready to come out. And no one notices when I'm angry at myself, because it's easy to punish me without anyone questioning it. They never question it. That is safe. Ha ha, unless they read this. But how will they know it's me? This isn't even in our language. Sorry mom, but I know you don't surf blogs.
I have a ton of anger, all over the place, I can see it know, just with what I've written. But there is no way or place for me to let it out. And against myself is only making the whole of it bigger.
How can I feel anger towards whoever abused me, if I can't feel safe being angry at anyone other than me?

Hiding still

There is a new course at school from the campus therapists, for how to help people that ask for your help. I'd actually love to enter, but I'm terrified of the campus therapists. I don't like those ladies, and I'm afraid they'll find me out. I'm pretty scared they'll see my lies upon lies and call me out on them.

I was going to a youth group at church, but I was only able to get to 2 meetings. I put up as an excuse that I had choir practice. Which I did, the 1st time I didn't go. But the next time, I remembered how I was about ready to burst into tears when the speaker talked about how we must be able to love ourselves since God loves us enough to have given us His only Son. I don't feel worthy of that love, and it hurts just to think about it. It hurts terribly and in no way that I can hold inside. If I'd kept going to that youth group, I think I would have been found out. Which is not really such a terrible thing, except for the fact that I invited my brother, my older sibling, to come with me, and he did, and he keeps going even though I'm not going. The past few times, he's just invited me with a tired face, 'I know you're not coming with me, but I'm inviting you anyway.' I really want to go. But I'm so scared.

I keep telling myself that I want to know, whatever it is that happened to me that I can't remember, I want to know, but when something starts scratching at that shell, I get terrified and I must hide.

I'm afraid of entering that course. I'm afraid I'll be found out. I'm afraid of having to drop out halfway through because I can't listen to the speaker without bursting into tears. I'm afraid of having this friend see me crying for no reason. She'll know there's a reason, and I don't want her to know. I don't want her to carry me. I'm afraid of leaning on anybody. What if they hand me back the weight, saying it's too much? What if they decide I'm not worth the effort? What If I'm not worth the effort?
I'm afraid that someone, that isn't me, will tell me these words. I'll have been right, and then there will be no means for me to stand. I will fall, and I won't get back up.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Be Still

Be still
Things are gonna change now.
For the better.
I promise...
Into my ear
His promise sounded hollow
His promise petrified me
Change?
Of course
His breath rolled over my face, and I closed my wet eyes
I felt him move off of me,
And lay on the mattress next to me
Change?
I lay still and hurt under the sheets
Shivering
After
Alone
I'm here
He whispered
I'm here beside you
You're trembling
Is uncalled for
I'm here.
No
You're there
I'm here
I'm alone now...
You're wrong
I am here
You won't be alone again
For better or for worse, remember?
I'm here...
You're here
Here
By your side
I'm here
So be still
Be still...

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The last year

Sleep would be nice
Last year I changed school's. I started studying at a different, much more expensive college. I'm still trying to convince myself I'm worth the price.
My father is working hard to put me through this school, and I'm grateful. But I can't help thinking that they would all, all of my family, would be better off without me. I'm nothing more than a burden. I have nothing to show for my 21 years. I'm studying with kids 2 years younger than me. I don't have a chance. I keep thinking that I should just drop out and work. I can paint, or draw, or whatever on the side. I don't need to strain my family like this.
My mother, she keeps telling me how hard my father is working to earn enough money. She tells me when I'm alone with her. She tells me all the damn time. I can't take it. I can't stand it. I'm the most expensive thing in this family, and I'm not even worth it. I'm not worth all the effort everyone is putting into me.
If I died
If I went away
My family could be at ease.
My father could rest. Would he?

Last year, I had a hard time getting to my classes, because I couldn't believe I was/am in this school, and I felt like hurting myself to deserve it. I left my classes as soon as they were over, to have time to find a quiet place and make my head still, to make all the noise be still. I'd take deep breaths and hit my legs, until I could stand without tearing up.
I'd make my way back to my next class, the pain tightly bound.
Slowly, I came to realize where the pain came from.
I wished I'd never found out.
I wondered if I could go talk to the counselors, although I wasn't keen on some lady rubbing my arm as I told her my problems.
I read their policy; they'd offer assistance, until/unless it required help from an outside therapists, at which point they'd contact my parents and inform them.
I can't, absolutely can't let my parents know what's happened to me. I absolutely cannot stand to imagine how they'd look at me after that. I can't stand to imagine them holding me over this. I absolutely can't be held over this.
I pushed it to the back of my mind, and told the pain 'Later. Just wait.', every time it decided to come outside. It still hurts, but it won't tell me why. Not that I've had the guts to ask it.

I have a hard time walking from class to class, because I keep getting the terrible urge to lean over the rail. All of my classes were on the 4th floor last semester, can you imagine? I have to keep my eyes forward, and walk as close to the opposite wall as I can. I have to hold on to my classmates if I can't walk by the wall. I just tell them I'm afraid of heights, and they laugh off how tightly I'm grasping their arms.
I'm afraid of heights. I'm afraid I'll jump from heights.

But don't worry.
I've carried this pain for years and years. It's just that now I know why I want to end me.
I won't
Kill myself
I'm just going to keep on doing my 'best'. I'll keep studying to put myself above my classmates. I have to work harder than everyone, to show that I'm worth something.

I have to be worth some damn thing. I have to be good at something else
Being used can't be the only thing I'm good at, right?
It can't be.
I'll die if it is
Because no one is using me
Since no one is using me
I'm worthless now, aren't I?
No one seems to want to use me anymore.
I think I've somehow managed to make bad people stay away from me.
Somehow.