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.

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?

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.

Sleep would be nice

I don't want to fall asleep; Isn't that terrible?
Lately all I've been having are bad dreams,
I wouldn't call them nightmares
Not at all
I can't even remember them
I remember vague traces when I wake up
But they're bad things
Like somebody stole something from me
I mean something tangible
Like money or videogames
Just stupid things like that
But they keep me up
I can't fall asleep
I don't want to fall asleep
I'd rather stay up reading over and over all the books I've already read
Or surf youtube forever
Watch a movie
Watch cartoons
Anything
I don't care
But I can't go to sleep
I don't know what it is
But they're the only kinds of dreams I have
I wake up tense
My neck hurts
My head and my back are starting to hurt too
I'm not sleeping any different
The only different thing I'm doing is this
This blog I mean
That's the only thing I'm doing different
Could this be the cause?
I wish it was
But the strange dreams started before

Do you know that I'm getting closer?
Are you trying to keep me out?
I have been outside for years
The last year was not a good one
I've been in so much pain
And you know why
So tell me
Let me in
You're trying to protect me,
But how much more broken can I get?

Flurry

So it goes.I was sexually abused as a kid by an older girl. Sorry if the name mislead you, but I'm a girl.
...
I don't know who Jacob is, but he is the one I relate to the most. I found him, and he kept telling me how he was betrayed as a child, by someone he loved. Betrayed, over and over again by someone he trusted.
He didn't remember, until he was older, and that person came back.
I didn't remember until I was older.
Until after Jake told me what happened to him.
Mine is different.
She didn't come back.
She wasn't really even my friend either. She was the daughter of one of my mom's friends. We; my mother, father, brother, sister and me; we went to that woman's house often. My parents would go talk to her and her husband, about ground-up things I guess. My brother would go with their son, and they'd play video games. I would too, when she wasn't around, but they were boys, and I wasn't, so I'd usually end up being with her. She'd tell me to go with her. My sister, I don't remember what she did, though I guess she just stayed with my parents.
...
I don't know all that has happened to me. In fact, I can only remember about 3 instances with her. They're the ones that have always sort of been there, but I kept ignoring them. I still try to push them away, but I can't ignore them anymore.
I can feel a lot of things that aren't contained in those 3 pieces of memory. So many things, that it doesn't make sense that she was the only one. Why can my body feel this?
I'm afraid, that all that Jake is telling me, has happened to me. Where would he have gotten everything from, if not from me? Didn't I make him? He's only a character I drew one day, years ago.
There are some things, I can safely assume have never happened to me. Some of them are just things I've written that come from nowhere. For reference, I'll label them 'just for kicks'.