Thursday, January 31, 2013

Her halo is broken along with her heart Her once white robes are stained and shredded apart Her beautiful face is now streaked with tears Can you believe she's felt like this for years? She's watched her once glorious life go down the drain Now all she's got left is the pain When it rains, do you hear her cries? Can you feel the hurt and pain fall from the skies?? She once was so happy never once doubting her life But now it's too often she talks only to a knife She once was so beautiful, graceful, and fair Her once golden locks turned to black hair But now she is broken and nobody cares

I’m scared of nursing school; I’m scared the only thing I want to do most in the world will be my biggest failure. I’m worried I won’t be able to remember everything and handle the material. I just don’t think I’m that smart anymore.

I ummmmm……..I’m just really lonely right now. Being rejected hurts just as much as being with someone who doesn’t even love you. My hands are so shaky right now. I wonder if I’m going to feel like this for the rest of my life. I mean hell I’ve felt like this since elementary school really. The ups and downs, the highs and lows with my moods I’m just so tired. Like I’ll feel really happy and an hour later I’ll feel so sad to the point of breaking down. And it starts all over again…..every day….ALL DAY LONG

Last night was so hard. I just needed someone to tell me everything is going to be ok. I wanted to cut last night…I wanted to cut so badly. I felt the pain and anger run through my veins and I wanted to explode. It was way too much for me to handle right now. I drug my fingernails across my wrist. I didn’t press hard enough to do any damage but the pressure was relieving. It’s still sore today but it’s better than using the razor like I wanted to.

So many nights I’ve wrapped myself up in that heavy blanket pretending that it was anyone’s arms holding me. Many nights spent crying because I can’t hold on to anything anymore right now. The rocking back and forth, the screams into my pillow, tears constantly pour down my face. I’ve cried so much I could fill up the ocean with my shame.

I’m tired and sad. It hurts, it hurts so bad. I just want to feel ok again. Mentally I just feel so fucked up right now. I’m tired; I’m really tired and worn out. I’m at a constant battle with my mind and I’m losing. I keep telling myself that everything is going to be ok. I don’t want to be here anymore.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

pretty pretty angel, how could you run, it wasn`t your fault, their day will soon come. She cries in her pillow dead tears falling free, careful to stop them so others won`t see. Pretty pretty angel, don`t stop the pain, a woeful tale for sure, silence driving you insane. Taunting images steal away her night, if only she screamed louder, if she put up more of a fight. Pretty pretty angels, tell us your tale, release the sorrow, and pay your bail.

We moved last night. So I’m a little closer to my job now. I don’t know how I’m feeling about this really. I’m so beyond grateful that we do have friends that we can stay with but I swear it feels like I’m going from one dysfunctional house to the next. I think the most horrible feeling I’m having is not having a place to call home for my daughter. No permanent place for her to stay. The next move me and her will be making will be permeate.

I had a home before I my dad got sick. I miss that home so much. It’s like a home sick feeling especially since I couldn’t even take pictures of my dad with me. I still have one on my jewelry box that he gave me for my birthday. My mom was so pissed off at him when he bought it for me, then she got really mad when he said he was going to buy me some real jewelry to put in it. She must have put the fear of god in him because it never happened.

I wasn’t the person in the picture anymore. My eyes were so happy then: I was confident without feeling the effects of what happened to me. I don’t know what happened between then and now. I don’t know how it all came out but I’m feeling everything now. My eyes look so sad all the time. I try to hide all the time. I put mascara on, make up, a little shimmer to bring out the sparkle in my eyes fooling everyone else but when I look in the mirror I’m the only person who knows the truth.

It’s sad and hurtful looking back on pictures knowing that what someone else did to you could affect your life so much and so fast. I just want to have that happiness I had 10 years ago before all this pain hit me.

I wanted to die last night. I was in the bathroom and I got angry because had to move because of the fucked up family I was born into. I wanted to cut last night so bad. The razors were under the cabinet and I had to talk myself down from cutting. The pain was just too much. I haven’t talked to Ali in two weeks and I just have a lot of things going on. I’m on my period and its only making everything else worse to handle.

I’m just going to try and take a deep breath: relax and take it one day at a time. My daughter is my motivation. I have to make it for her. She makes me happy and I won’t let her go through what I’m going through.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

days become darker nights become longer more oppressive heavy on the mind weighing down on hope suppressing it crushing it until it dies and when that happens life dies too

I swear it feels like I’m losing my fucking mind. There’s like a million thoughts racing through my head right now. I’m in the bathroom right now typing this on my cell phone with the music playing hoping to drown out some of the pain. I really wish I could grieve over everything I lost but I just never have the time.

Today is just not a good day at all. I spent all of yesterday morning calling trying to find help. They have nothing in my area or even within 200 miles of where I live. They have a lot of PTSD support groups but for veteran’s car accident survivors and natural disaster survivors but not rape survivors. How fuckin god damn hilarious is that shit? I've been raped by my rapist, by the fuckin police when they dropped my god damn case and now I can’t even get free fuckin help because they don’t have the money. Soooo…since my insurance doesn’t cover it I have to come out of my pocked for it which starts at 166 for a damn 50 minute secession.

All those numbers that I called and nothing. Just fucking nothing at all. That’s how I feel right now, like nothing. I feel so broken and used and now I’m just starting to feel angry and just pissed the fuck off. I’m pissed off that I can’t have sex when I want to, I’m pissed off that I can’t even touch my own skin without jumping, I’m pissed off at the men who hurt me. I wish they were dead. No let me take that back: I wish that I could run into them again so that I can torture them slowly and show them the same fuckin pain that they gave me.

I’m angry all the damn time. I’m angry and mad and san and honestly hurting them would make me feel so much better right now. To watch the look on their faces, the fear in their eyes because they don’t know what’s going to happen next. That would make my world so much better. I wish I could keep all of them locked in cages and have a throw where I can sit down and just stare at them until I feel like hurting them again.

I can just feel it right now. I would be in a bright pink suit with a pink flower in my curly hair. 5 inch pink stilettos with lots and lots of glitter on them. I would have a custom whip with 3inch long spikes on it that will dig into your skin and rip it off once I pull it away. I would cut frank in the same fuckin spot that he cut me in. Banky I would chain him down on the bed and take my whip and go right for his balls. I’d make him beg me to stop. I’d say to him, “Banky why are you acting like that”. The same stupid shit he said to me while he was raping me. Stupid fucker, I would torture him to the same song that was playing. I would record it and make it my ringtone for my cell phone so whenever someone contacted me they would know to leave me the fuck alone.

I would play it for the world to hear. Hell id put the whole damn recorded on YouTube so the world to see how much of an asshole and a piece of shit they are. How society let them walk free to torture other people.

After I was done torturing them id probably pull a human centipede on them just because I can. Justin would be in the middle…no I think the order would go my friends bother, Kenny, Dave, Wilson, that guy, Kenya, Justin and frank would be at the beginning expect I would put them all in a circle. And watch them suffer until they are all dead. I feel no remorse, I wouldn’t feel bad or have any sympathy, especially for Justin, frank and Banky, may they all burn in hell with no escape.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

The anguish I feel tears at my soul Life at times is so cripplingly bad there is hatred everywhere cruel lives attack those who live for the joy of simply living. their lives are destroyed in a blink of time with acts of such horror and unthoughtful malice that to think of them makes the stoutest heart shudder and the strongest man cry A life so awful cannot be born alone in solitude with only thoughts to pass the time it must be shared or worse will follow

I don’t really know how I’m feeling totally but I know that my heart hurts a lot and I feel sad. Then I start thinking about how many of us are walking around pretending to be happy just to survive. How many tears are we holding back every day in the car hoping no one sees that one tear fall from your eyes but you’re hoping that someone does see so that you can tell them what’s wrong. How many of us have been beaten? Molested? Raped? Stays in abusive relationships? How many people have to deal with family members who have betrayed them? Mothers who have completely turned their backs on their children and aren’t bothered by it?

It’s a really sad reality of how many of our stories are really the same. If only we came out and actually said how we truly feel stead of holding on the pain because you’re too scared to let go. You’re too scared of failing but too damn numb to feel any pain.

People aren’t supposed to hurt like this all the time. I've just been doing so much thinking about everything lately….. To be honest my dad is none of the topics I talk about. I don’t really like to talk about that much. It hurts way too much especially know that on my birthday would make it a year since he’s been in a coma and brain dead. I don’t care too much for anything anymore. Not my birthday, holidays, every day is really hard for me right now. I think I’m handling everything ok, some days I’m just not sure.

Monday, January 21, 2013

Not hearing the moans Or going through it alone Rewind to the choice Loud to hear her voice To get one more opportunity Just to see what would become Of the black little girl, Who lived in a cold lonely world

So sick of reading books. Tired of flipping through pages looking for help for some stupid shit that I didn’t even fucking do to myself. The thoughts racing through my head make me feel like I’m going fuckin crazy. Spending hours on the damn computer looking for PTSD groups for rape survivors in the area I live in.

Calling RAINN is such a pain in the fuckin ass. It pisses me off and makes me angry every time I have to call them because as soon as I call they always direct you to the crisis center in the areas you live in. the rape crisis center in my area sucks to say the last. Like they don’t have people to work with people who’ve had suffered multiple traumas which is what I am. They don’t work with survivors one on one who has PTSD. I don’t fuckin understand how the fuck you’re a rape crisis center and don’t have the resources to work with PTSD.
It just irritates the shit out of me how much of a headache I have to go through to find local help for it. It’s getting worse every day. The night terrors are getting worse at night. I’m remembering things that I had pushed back about the rapes and it’s coming out now. The night terrors keep me up at night to the point it’s starting to take me 8 hours just to relax enough so that I can go to sleep. I’m back to having sleeping in the dark again, I swear every time I close my eyes when I’m lying in bed I see Banky standing in the doorway again. Ugh I want to throw up and just get up and the fuck out of him.

I’m not really the type of person who gets mad easily but man I swear lately I've just been so pissed off an angry and mad. Like if I saw any of the men who hurt me I would kill them. I would kidnap them and torture them into a slow painful agonizing death. I want them to feel the pain that they caused me. They are walking around living their lives without a care in the world and I’m sitting her 10 years into fuckin therapy and I still can’t be touched, can’t have sex, I cry every day.

I can’t function in relationships. This whole time I convinced myself that I’m ok, that I’m like everyone else in the world but I’m not. The more I start changing and better myself it just seems like more is being thrown at me. I’m having the hardest time coping with life right now and to be honest with you I am scared of the future. Like I’m glad I’m changing and understanding what’s going on with me but on the other hand it makes me actually think about everything. Like I feel like I’m serving a life sentence. That was the one thing that I like about being married to my best friend. I didn’t have to worry about starting over with someone else, I didn’t have to explain the flashbacks or panic attacks, he knew how to touch me, when not to and just that whole overall respect for me and what happened to me. Now it’s like I have to start over again if I don’t want to die on this earth a lonely woman. I have to reteach someone else everything and explain it to them and learn how to get used to them and their feelings.

I’m a realist, I’m not stupid or that naive little girl I used to be. After everything that’s I've experienced I know how the world works. Men like sex, me like to touch and hold their women. Men like to be touched and loves (that’s goes for women also). If my best friend couldn’t handle me why would I expect anyone else to handle me too? I try to look at things from the people’s perspective that way I can try to understand their feelings and thoughts. If I was a man I wouldn’t want to me with me for that reason. Everything else is good, I know that I can handle it but other people cant. And they don’t understand it either. Why would a man want to be with someone he can’t be intimate with or can’t touch and then have to deal with their panic attacks? Some of the men these days just don’t want to deal with that kind of headache. Hell most people don’t want to deal with it either. It’s like walking around with a sign around your neck saying I’m a wonderful person who gives back and loves but can’t be touched or looked at in a certain way.

What do you do with that????

Saturday, January 19, 2013

She suffers the worst pain in her life The skies lost color Time stood still She paid her dollar Her tears left fire marks in the sidewalk Overwhelming Her soul screaming Her nightmares are reality 16 years old Having to let go Became women As she lost her childhood

I’m tired again. I feel sad again. I’m so fucking sick of feeling this way. It’s too draining to deal with. My PTSD has gotten worse. At first the only things I had were the panic attacks, flashbacks and body memories. Now I have the anger: guilt, the voices running through my head. I've been having a lot of thoughts about suicide.

I don’t want to admit it but my head is really fucked up. It’s heartbreaking accepting the fact that what they did to me really messed up my head. This whole time I tried to take the blame for it. I was hoping that maybe if I took some of the blame I would have control over the situation and I could fix it. But I can’t take that blame because I can’t fix it by myself. I can’t do this alone anymore.

Every day I’m sad and angry and hurt. I want to stay in bed and rock and cry. I don’t want to do anything anymore. I don’t even have the energy to go to work. I’m so fucking sick of faking being happy and faking the smiles. IM NOT FUCKING HAPPY. IM NOT FUCKING OK.

I feel like I’m going crazy. There are a million thoughts running through my head all the time. I can’t stop the voices. I wish they would just shut the fuck up and leave me the hell alone. It just makes me think about a lot. Like I've been feeling like this since fucking elementary school. I remember every happy moment and every sad moment and I should be able to do that at all. This whole time I've been pretending to be happy just to survive and that’s the sad part.

The only thing that stops the voices is listening to music which is what I’m doing right now and I feel happy. I feel normal again. Sometimes the music doe make me feel sadder but then I can write it out and get it out of me. Smoking relaxes me enough to the point I can get some sleep and the anxiety does go away and I can function. Crying makes me feel so much worse. Like every time I cry it hurts so bad. When the tears come out it feels like my face is burning. My writs start throbbing so bad. I just want to cut just to make the throbbing stop. I want to cut to make the pain go away. But I don’t. I keep starting at the scars on my arm that remind me when I used to cut.

It makes me sad. I called some places today about getting help for the PTSD. They are closed so I’ll call them back Tuesday. When I was talking to the lady from the rape crisis center I broke down. I’m sick and need help. I broke down and started crying. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. It hurts too much. The tears hurt too much. I’m just lost right now…