I’m talking to someone
who really likes me. He makes me smile and laugh. Talking to him comes easy but
I’m not looking for anything at all. I’m really scared, the closer we get to
know each other is another step closer to me having to tell him about my past. It’s
not something I can avoid talking about because it affects everything. Down to
whether or not I can handle a hug that day. I’m really scared because I don’t
know what to do if I really start liking him. I’m scared of the future. Just
thinking about another man even touching me makes me sick to my stomach...........
To be poor is a hardship. But to be poor in the land of dollars is the bottom of hardships. And to be poor and black and female in America is about the bottom of all that. Because we are so irrelevant that's why we can be raped. What difference does it make? It's only a black woman.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Then I’m left with the emotional pain, the pain that tears away at my soul, my heart and my mind. The pain that invades me. My nameless, faceless sorry, that has found its home inside me. Pick up a sharp-edged cap that once was covering a glass beer bottle’s opening. The burns and bruises are doing nothing for me. They merely provide distraction, not for long, not long enough. I want to bleed.
So I’m thinking to myself
now would be the perfect time to go in the bathroom and cut myself. I feel so damaged
and alone. I’m just so fuckin sick and tired of dealing with all of this shit. I’m
tired and sad and honestly I don’t feel like dealing with any of this anymore.
My best friend is slowly starting to move away from me and this is why I fuckin
don’t depend on anyone emotionally. This is the same stupid shit I was talking
about last week. Every single god damn time I have enough courage and strength
to actually open up my mouth and fuckin talk about what the hell is bothering
me, I get shut down. What the fuck is the god damn point in talking about it in
the first place them. You really don’t fuckin care what I have to say, you’re
just pretending that you do.
I reach out for help, I’m
fucking reaching out for help and every single god damn person has let me fall
on my face. I keep telling you I need you to help me, I can’t do it by myself
and still everyone is fuckin ignoring me like it’s a god damn joke. I’m done
with people in general. I don’t care anymore. I don’t give a flying fuck what
happens to anyone but my daughter. And now I feel like I’m hitting a low. And
now I’m thinking about marrying for money. HA yeah right, you have to have sex
so that’s a no go.
And now the high is coming up like really
fast. I don’t really know how I’m really feeling but I don’t know that I’m just
sick of people. I’m tired of my mother in law acting like she didn’t do
anything wrong. With that fake ass apology. I’m sick of people pretending that
they care. I’m tired of actually giving a damn. Yes I’m fucked up mentally, I
have panic attacks, I have flashbacks, I have body memories, I can’t be touches
or be intimate, I have my highs and lows with my emotions every single day, all
day long. I’m very intelligent, I’m caring and loving. I’m a child abuse, domestic
violence and rape survivor. I am a survivor who fights bi-polar disorder. I am
a survivor who’s fighting PTSD every single day. You have no right to judge me.
I’ve dealt with more shit that you can imagine and handled it better that you ever
could. I’m perfect just the way I am. Take me for who I am and the imperfections
or leave me the fuck alone.
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