SEPTEMBER 2004 RANTS

9-30
I first started getting angry my sexual abuse support group because someone was talking about how they talked to their mother about what happened, and though it didn’t go well, it still hit me. That I could NOT tell me mom period at this point. Who knows when I would. There is no one in my family I can tell. Instead I’m this weird member of the family that has all these problems and no on knows why or even worse that it is solely because of ME.

I just watched a show to where a teen had runaway and was being taken care of at a teen center. But she developed this deadly infection. This guy working there tracked down her mom and the mom was like- she is NOT my daughter, I won’t be responsible for medical bills etc. The guy told her that this wasn’t about bills or her doing something wrong- she was deadly sick. But the mom shut the door and said she is not my daughter.

And in my head I go, because I do good things my mom likes talking about me and being around me. What would happen if I did go to the bad side of things. Actually, come to think about it, my mom DID say I was NOT her daughter. I remember that day clearly. After the hospital, and I was home and we were talking and I kept telling her that I could NOT be the daughter I used to be (the one that submitted and wouldn’t stand up to anything). I told her I couldn’t be the “old” Erin because the old Erin was not “me.” Eventually she just, got completely cold and said we could never fix our relationship and that I was not her daughter anymore.

Being my mom…the next day, she changed her mind. Bitch.

And so I was just thinking and getting upset. Because I do good things…my mom acknowledges me and will pretend to love me in her way. In my times of need my mom is not there and in fact, turns her back on me. I know who is there. I still remember Sam (close prof for the last three years), every time I have gone “nuts” she has been there…even when I’m being irrational, she is there to set me straight, to try and understand, to help me get help. And when in the hospital, we’re in contact as she tries to talk me through things. And of course there is Bobb, even when I was being a jackass…she was my light through the dark times.

And even my father who found me after all these years. While I did not let him get close quite yet, he was there and has been there in every capacity I have needed him since then. Despite the fact that when he found my website it was an ode-to hating dad. He put that aside…and he apologized…and earned my forgiveness. And he too, had now not turned his back. Through the mental illness, he’s still there.

But back to talking about the abuse or admitting it. I HATE being silent these days. And am just so angry that I can say nothing at this point. And the fact that my mom will be so proud of me, but would die before she mentioned the bad with the good.

Basically…was just a ball of anger at times and just…sometimes these realizations are painful. Almost makes me want to go do something really bad- just to see what my mom would do. Or to just say: she had nothing to do with these good things I do! Ah. Alright, I’ll quite writing right now. Just…this stuff was around in my head, and I’m sure I’ll hit up Bobb with these thoughts on Monday. But yeah, thoughts through my head, while I’m in bed sick.

9-27
You know the imagery of someone hanging off a cliff? Barely having the one hand on the ledge, and just when you think they are going to drop, they muster the strength to grab on with the other hand and then slowly pull themselves up?

That is how I feel about right now. That I'm about to throw the other hand up there on the ledge. This weekend really tested my newfound (mental) health. As if to say, okay, you said you were healthy- now prove it.

That got me thinking. In the past I used to say that I felt as if I kept getting tested, and I'd pass the test, but then all the sudden I'd have to retake it (all the hospital/suicide stuff and how I always lived). I always was in the mindset that I was passing tests by living...that the test was about living or dying.

Except...I was failing- because the test was NOT about living or dying...it was just about living, if I could cope and live and be healthy. But since I didn't understand the contents of the test- I failed and couldn't even see that. So, again, here was a test before me. But since dying has been out of the picture, I could clearly see what this test was really about.

And I passed...for real this time. I didn't crash, I'm not in the hospital, I'm not going to go cut myself or anything else that may be unhealthy. Instead...I turned up the Dar Williams, I sat down and did homework and made preparations for my big project tomorrow. I emailed people that needed emailing.

My brothers are in my head constantly for sure...but instead of running away from this massively big problem in front of me, I'm staying and am going to figure this one out. I can not hide out underneath depression anymore- it won't save me...and it would hurt my brothers. For once...depression is not just about me anymore, it's about who I could hurt. And also with suicide, it is NOT about ending my life because I'm causing other people pain...it's about living because I am SAVING others from pain. Dying would cut off the one life line my brothers have going for them.

I do recognize too, that a big burden has been placed in my lap...and if I ignore it, it will only get bigger, however, if I understand it's size and then make a course of action, it can be manageable. Before...I'd see its size and run far away...until it grew too big and blew up in my face. Now, I take it in parts and manage it. That's why I have Bobb...to guide me through that, her role is no longer picking up the pieces when I let something blow up in my face, but guide me through those manageable parts, helping me understand, and helping me to maintain my health.

Because I see now what being healthy really means. If I don't have my health, it puts my brothers and many other people who rely on me in trouble. It took me having to only look at myself and get healthy to get here, but I am here now and that is what matters.

Strength can mean all kinds of things I'm realizing. And I do realize that it is going to take strength for me to hold onto my health, while looking out for my brothers...and the children I work with, and you guys here. I was sitting just thinking about all the things linked that I had to keep on an even keel. And I realized a corner stone of all of it was me being healthy, or things elsewhere begin to break apart. So I'll be working on that thing called balance again. I think balance and strength are linked heavily.

So...here is me...throwing another hand onto the ledge and slowly pulling myself up.

9-14
Healing. I've been thinking about that a lot lately. It does seem to me, to be a few steps forward, a few steps back. And at times I get angry- why can't I just be healed. But always I am reminded- it took a hell of a long time for me to get this way, it's going to take a hell of a long time to get out of it. And I am trying, Lord knows I am trying.

And so, as I said, I was depressed again for about two weeks- I let fear paralyze me. And now I'm paying for that- I take responsibility. But still. It is so hard. Someone remarked to me earlier today or maybe it was yesterday, that it is so hard...to heal. But I think a lot of us fall into the victim category now. That we can't get better, we can't heal because what's happened. I am not a big fan of can't. If anything, I've learned the human mind and body can endure so much and still...heal.

Bobb (therapist), really put it to me the other day. I am self-sabotaging myself again. Falling back into old patterns. Becaue that is what is easiest, that is what I know. But it's also what kills me. Which is why I don't sit here and complain- complain that I am poor and can barely afford gas to go to work, I could complain that I messed up my schooling because of the hospital, I can complain that I want to cut, I can complain that healing is too much work. But you know what...what is the point? What is the point of just complaining. I'll admit, I am fully guilty of this...my first year in therapy with Bobb...God I must have frustrated her...all I did was point out my "symptoms" and not take any action.

But no more...I learned something very important: I can. I can do so much. I am not six anymore, I am not 11 anymore or 15 or any other age. The abuse happened. It's in the past and I can't change the past. But what can I change? My present and future. I am NO LONGER a victim...unless I choose to be. I can make sure I am in therapy, that I take my meds...and even join a group. I can make my Plan of Action and follow it. I can make the necessary changes to be healthy. That is all within my control. My past may not have been in my control, but damn it, my future is.

One day...I was so scared that my life was going to stay in the same painful cycle...so I picked up the phone and called Bobb. I got an appt., and there starts a great therapeutic relationship. I have been suicidal since then...but rather than come to my message board or someone and just tell them I was going to end it...in some way, I always let the right people know. I drove myself to the ER, because damn it- I did need to live. Even if I felt like dying, some part of me knew to live. I do things for myself when I am at the end of my rope. There is no can't. There are options, and I learned that, Bobb taught me that and my favorite prof Sam (not her name heh).

And then a strange thing happened when I got out of the hospital in March. I wanted to live and there was no going back. No more suicide. I was going to live, no matter what. And that changed my entire life...as Bobb has remarked to me. I was more focused on living then. When I'm stressed and there is too much to do- I remind myself that I have to do it, because I don't want to die. And so...I finally consented to the path Bobb had been guiding me to all along. Plans of Actions- perfect- it gave me direction on what I needed to do to heal, and that I needed to do these things and not half ass it. CD (cognitive distortions) homework...doing that every day...is replacing my negative thoughts with positive ones. My feelings hw every morning...works well to give me directions during the day.  Taking my meds...I'm way more stable, and my anxiety and fear goes down.

But...getting to this point- was the HARDEST thing I have ever had to do. I was in the hospital seven times, I have the nastiest scars from cutting...I lost part of my life...I lost the whole "fun" part of college. I lost a lot of things while trying to get better. But you know what? The most important thing about any of this was one thing: I am getting better. School, friends, work...none of that means anything if I am not alive to enjoy it all.

So to all of those that tell me time and again how hard it is...I know...and so do so many other people. IT IS HARD. I won't lie. But it's not impossible, if you want to live and live well. There is no easy way to live for most of us. Our childhood was taken away, or we didn't have parents who were there like parents should be. And we can't take that back. But don't let that prevent you from having an adulthood. The abuse hurt us enough...it is so time to heal. No matter how hard.

I know how hard a phone call is...sometimes it took me months, years...weeks...or just a day. But the important thing is to make the phone call or whatever else is necessary. Pain and abuse is what we know...it was what was taught to us. It is time to UNl-earn all of that.  And we can. But at the same time, we can't expect that over night, or that it will be easy or even that it won't take work. It will. Think about school- you went into school not knowing the material- you had to learn it and it was hard work (for most ;-)) Same thing here...we are learning, we need to learn.

Guys...we can be a victim no longer. We are NOT helpless. WE ARE NOT HELPLESS. We have choices now, we can do things to get better. Even if things are rocky at times, we can still move forward. Everyday when you wake up, you have choices about getting better, and it's up to you to make them.

Is this fair? Of course not. The average person does not struggle to just wake up in the morning. But, we can't change that. But we can change how we live our life...so it gets to the point that we do want to get up in the morning. We can do this. And I'm inspired today, you know why? I did therapy with one of my favorite kids tonight. The first half of our session- he was in full meltdown mode, he was so upset, running, screaming, lashing out. I was not upset at him, but my heart went out to him. Yes, I had to be the therapist and make him work through the tantrum and teach him how to calm himself. But you know what? When he calmed down, some extraordinary things happened.

I got language out of him I have never heard: We have been working on reciprocal sentences ( I say something like "I have ___" and then he has to pick something up and say "I have ____ "but something different). And...in one instant, I saw a spark of understanding in his eyes- he did it. HE DID IT. Not only that, but I got an "I see ___" out of him too...we have been working on that for over a year. Over a year he could not tell me what he see's (other than whatever object I say). And we looked at each other and in silent communication he let me know that he knew.

Did he get all of this without work...very hard work? NO WAY...he has cried, screamed and just flat out refused, or ignored me. But we kept at it. And today he understood...and not only was happy to please me, but I could tell he was happy. Because when I went to refresh his reinforcer (chips)...he grabbed my hand and wanted to go back to therapy- this after screaming bloody murder about going to therapy.

Another kid...was mute and staring at a wall when I got him. He now babbles and interacts with others and learning so many new skills. Can you imagine that- not being able to communicate...then one day someone cares enough to take the time and patience to work through the tantrums, to even understand how he learns...and now he can communicate many of his needs. You think that happened without a shit load of work? These kids have worked so hard and come so far. But not one of them just got like that through sitting on their asses.

And neither should we. We can all get that spark of understanding. It's within each one of us. But just seeing my words or talking to me, that is not going to do it. You...WE have to work at it. Yes, it sucks more than anything, but you know...some of my kids hate going to school from 9-4 and then having to come home and do a two/three hour intense therapy session with me...but they do it...and are so proud when they understand. I have one little girl so close to getting out of special ed and therapy...and by golly she works so hard. Not even knowing why, but she sees the difference somewhere in her that gives her the fire to keep going.

Sigh. So what is this message all about? I don't even know. But I realized yesterday, I needed to shit or get off the pot. If I want to get better, I need to commit to it. No more screwing around- because it only hurts ME. I want to wake up in the morning and not have to dread the day, or wake up and wonder what kind of mood I'm in...or constantly worry I am crashing. I want to wake up and be me. Yes, I'll always have the meds and I still have a lot of therapy to work through. But I'm doing it because someday I am going to be ME. I will find her. I will love her. And I will look back at this time and thank God that I was willing to commit and work through this stuff. Because Life is Sweet...as Bobb once told me. And I believe and trust in that. I get snapshots every now and then- like with my kids when they understand something...or when I'm at live music.

I have a life. I chose to live it. And because of that choice, that means that I need to heal. And commit to healing. And I think I'm ready...to put my life back together. I deserve to live life and live it well. So my parting words...lets all heal, we can do it. There is no can't. We are no longer victims, but we have power...we have control...to live well. Lets finally use it. As a good friend of mine has remarked: Don't let the bastards win.

Love you guys. Night.

9-14
I just returned from my sexual abuse support group. It was good this time. Last time, I was bouncing off the walls...literally. I think I was so anxious, I shut down and humor just took over. But I did discuss it with Bobb (codename for therapist, for those that don't know) and I did much better this time.

I was talkative...I think maybe too much though...I will try to stay quieter.

I am actually anxiously awaiting getting into a bit deeper stuff. Like today we did healthy/unhealthy coping mechanisms and things to do when we are alone/with people. The coping mechanism thing I've done to the point where it's not useful for me- every group has done it (7 hospitalizations, you do the math) and with my own therapist. But still was good. And I did get some good advice on how to handle my mom this coming weekend. So that was good.

But yeah, still think I talked too much. But, I'm trying to keep my CD's in check (cognitive distortions). I do my hw too ;-) I kinda wish group was longer or more frequent, only sad thing. Seems like we never have enough time, ya know. But, I'm excited- I love everyone in the group and I think it is going to go really well. Tonight's hw seemed to be good, though one of them is from the Courage to Heal workbook, which I've done...at least the first few chapters (I had to stop at one point, too hard). The other hw looks good too.

So that about covers it. This is a really positive experience. I'm hoping that you guys will see this as a positive experience and maybe try it yourselves? Just something to keep in mind. You know I'm always trying to get you guys to therapists/groups/etc.

9-13
Okay, I have not written here in forever, and today I realized I need to write again. So here goes.

I am barely holding things together. It is very hard. Waking up sometimes is a struggle. For two weeks I fell into a depression- not eating, sleeping or doing much of anything. But I have finally snapped myself back together. I have a plan of action with my therapist…and now I’m really trying to follow it.

Here are some changes: I have finally started excising- swimming at least twice a week. That is hard because not only am I out of shape (oops), but that is where my cousin first abused me ( a pool ) so I have to overcome that. I just finished cleaning my room out, in an attempt to get organized…I let things go. I need to make school a priority again. So I have done so.

I realized that I really need to get back on meds…so, I gathered together the little bit of money I have and am going to get Lithium and Xanax filled. The xanax will help when I got to financial aid tomorrow and also the local military base- to get my military ID, so I can get on my dad’s insurance.

Speaking of Dad…I’ve never felt this way before, but I really miss him. Both of us have been busy lately and haven’t really connected. We were apart so long, I never really got the chance to really miss him. And now that he’s back in my life and we’ve really made a relationship, I miss him. Like, I wish he was closer and I could just do a weekend visit. Like my mom and stepfather are close, and I wish they weren’t the ones close, EXCEPT, they have my little brothers- who I could not live without them close. But yeah, I just…was missing my Dad and thought I’d write about it. Guess I should probably email him too :-)

Other things…I guess…I don’t know. I have been self- sabotaging myself lately which is not good and I’m trying to get out of it. I guess old habits die hard.

Oh shoot, just realized I need to high tail it to work. More later, I promise.

9-11
As some of you know, I'm working on an extended poem called Wave Rider. I just completed three more poems for that set. These poems are describing the time in my life just after meeting Bobb (no, not her real name), my kickass counselor. Meeting her forced me to see that the perfect life I told was a lie...and that the abuse and the pain was actually mine. It was heard to see reality- some hospital trips were involved. Anyway...here they are:

Waves II
The ocean begins its rumble,
Waves crash to and fro
- Hidden a soft undertow-

The rider surfs out the tide,
Steady on her feet-
There is no retreat.

The water flows over and over.
Arms searching for the board,
Her cries ignored.

She slips down once more,
Down to the oceans deep.
She closes her eyes for a sleep.

The ocean ruled with fear
Its roar, is all she hears.

-Silence-

Truth
There sits a house from her past,
Off white, facing the courtyard.
The tales of her childhood flash by.
Here she is not on guard,
Denies that more than meets the eye.

There’s the couch her daddy laid on,
The kitchen her mother stayed in,
Her room, toys strewn about.
Recognizing her life, she grins,
There’s even the wall with the trout.

Voices rise with the tide,
She watches a girl creep to the hall way.
Hate fills the air,
Their love gone astray.
What are these affairs?

Suddenly suffocating, gasping for breath,
It’s a game, just a game.
The girls' screams go unheard,
She gets the blame.
Her brother is preferred.

Standing in the kitchen,
Mother rules with the fear-
The spoon stings, brings pain.
The girl holds a tear,
Bravery she feigns.

She sees a pool with shouts of laughter.
Silence brings her near-
There the girl loses her innocence.
Life is replaced with fear,
Staying on the defense.

She and the girl lock eyes.
The truth becomes clear:
This was the life she lived.
This was her life, her fear,
Her little girl to forgive.

Pain
Alone in the dark,
The ocean swallowed her whole,
Darkened her soul.

The truth was too much.
Blood swirls all around,
Pain has been found.

9-7
 

Beginnings I

Family I
Two strangers came together
To become a family,
With what they knew love to be.

Each followed their own illusions-
Disturbing the darkness with fights,
Neither one in the right.

There’s thunder in the distance.
An act of passion,
Mixed with some compassion.

Days and nights grow longer,
Their hatred put on hold,
To parenthood they’ve been sold.

- A son-

The storm is held at bay,
They wait with their pain-
It slowly begins to rain.

Little boy tries so hard-
Slowly losing affection,
Sitting alone in rejection.

The seed of pain
Begins to grow.
The little boy whispers no.

Lightning strikes again
To a family already torn apart,
Another beating heart.

-A daughter-


A Young Girl
A young girl stands
Ready to face the dawn,
Not knowing she’ll just be a pawn-

In a wicked game
Meant for pain,
Tied with a ball and chain.

She’s hit into submission,
Condemned into silence,
Stripped of any defense.

She awakens each morning
To a life she did not choose,
Used and abused.

A young girl falls.
The delusion is born-
She softly morns.

-Silence-


The Waves
The waves come alive.
She drifts into the ocean
On the tides of her emotion.

She closes the door
To her thoughts, her heart-
She will not come apart.

The waves begin crashing.
She starts to get wet,
But still does not see the threat.

The waves come crashing still,
She tries to stand on her board:
The ocean roars.

-Silence-


Rider
She emerges a rider-
Riding out the waves.
This storm she will brave.

Hiding in the delusion,
Her past of her imagination,
Lies build her foundation.

-She disappears-


Painful Beginning
Worthless, evil, tell me more lies-
You’ve failed me once again-
Not trying your best, such a burden-
Not trying hard enough, don’t you dare cry-
You’re worthless, don’t you see-
You always fail me-
Why don’t you make me happy?
Don’t you love me?

Falling to the ground,
She softly weeps,
Holds in the hurt-
Her pain makes no sound.


Rage
Another storm
raging.

Thunder crashes
above.

Pain consumes
her body.

Again, again
she hurts.

Love becomes
pain.


Pain

A stinging pain.
She tries not to cry,
She endures the lie.

What did she do,
To be in this danger,
Feeling their anger.

Then comes her brother,
The blanket goes over her head.
Will she awaken dead?

Suffocating under his watch,
She just wants to know why-
She gives in – begins to cry.

A mark across the face.
The delicate pain
Displays her disdain.

The belt again and again,
No one to care.
She says a little prayer.


Pleasure in Pain
Affection from one.
He’s picked her out
As being special,
To take to the darkened room
Until he’s done.

Time to play a game,
Of pleasure and pain.
Innocence lost in that dark,
Pain in a pleasure mask.
It’s all so tame.

She chooses to remain still-
She loses herself
To her far away land-
Safe and sound
Until he’s had his fill.

She did survive-
Kept it locked away,
No one to know
All of her pain,
And how she stayed alive.


Dream
The dream
                        is remembered.

Feels so real-
                fear arises.

Six years old-
                        innocence taken.

She feels so cold-
                    pain is numbed.

Flashes here and there-
                                nothing but fragments.

No one to care-
                                        For those broken pieces.

She feels the fear-
                                Searches for a tear.


Away
She flies far away.
She watches from above-
It was not her
On that day.

She feels no pain,
Living only in the
Confines of her mind-
Trying to stay sane.

Her mind and body divide,
Leaving only the essentials-
Her body merely functions;
Inside she has died.

Breakdown
Fear
So empty inside,
She feels the pain
Of the mind/body divide.

Her careful disguise
Begins to crack-
Out seeps the lies.

She looks in the mirror-
A stranger stares back-
She feels the fear.


Battleground
Red
A hand slips off the board-
She plunges down deep.
There, she weeps.

Her eyes wide open,
Red swirls around:
A release she’s found.

To the surface she climbs,
Resting on the sand bar,
She creates another scar.

-Breathe-


Keeping Away The Dark
Keeping away the dark,
Fighting back the nightmares-
To sweet dreams she does not embark.

Fighting the images that cloud her head,
She keeps her eyes open tonight,
Tonight, she does not wish to be dead.

Her hand covers her heart;
Praying for just one peaceful night,
Praying for just one night she does not fall apart.

The night has become her inner hell.
The demons come to beckon her
To take her from this sleepless cell.

She closes her eyes,
And sees her scarlet trimmed nights:
Her only silent cry.

So she gives into this night,
Again, she closes her eyes:
Ready for this fight.


Alive
She knows just what to do-
The cold steel in hand
Pain at her command.

There is nothing left to fear-
A sigh of relief.
She falls into grief.

Her inner pain finally real-
Again, she comes alive,
Knowing that she can survive.



Never to Forget
Done once and hooked-

It took just one look,

One taste of pain.

The unkindest cut

Made across her life,

Silencing the strife.

The bloodiest wrist

Is the only outward sign-

To realize that she is not fine.

 

The first scar, never too far,

Where blade and flesh met:

Never to forget.


Need
Her pain runs deep,
The control she can no longer keep.
She takes control over her skin,
To only feel real again.
Been running for so long,
So tired of being strong-
She closes her eyes:
Bids silent goodbyes.

-Relief-

The alluring finality of the blade-
From her consciousness it never fades.
The hushed whisper,
Continues to haunt her-
Proving that pain does rule,
And she cannot escape its pull.

-Surrender-


Lost in the Mind 

Alone and frightened in the dark,

Lost in her mind,

Cutting the ties that bind-

Emptiness creeps into her heart.

Her life remains defined by pain,

With clear tears

And silent fears,

It rains.

Empty voices reign free,

Silent whispers for relief, all in vain;

The world does not see her pain-

Though displayed for all the world to see.
 

Her life’s reached the edge,

Lost in the mind,

Cutting the ties that bind:

Back or forward off the ledge?


The Edge 

Ocean
A wave crashes full force.
There is no more relief-
She drifts into disbelief.

Her eyes grow cold,
Lifeless and gaunt,
Her past has come to haunt.

Drowning in a sea of darkness,
She’s consumed by the ocean,
Losing all emotion.

-Silence-


War
A war rages on through the night,
The body becoming the battlefield.
Red forever stains this night,
Her soul determined to fight.

The dawn nears,
She begins to fade-
Seeking final release,
There falls, a single tear.


Searching
Searching for serene peace,
Wanting, searching, losing-
She just wants a release.

Adrift and lost at sea-
A deep ocean of troubled times,
The shore she can no longer see.

Images of anger and sadness
Flash through her mind,
Pushing her toward this madness.

Brave she will remain,
Up until her last breath,
She hides her pain.


The End
Losing all emotion,
Adrift in the ocean,
She has no more to give,
No will to live.

-Falling-

Her story is done,
The end has begun.
Time for no more pain,
From this life she abstains.

-Falling-

Darkness falls over her eyes
-Whispers a goodbye-
No more can she bend-
This is the end.

-Fallen-


Beginnings II
Again
Eyes slowly open,
The sun is streaming down a light,
No shore in sight.

She feels the board underneath.
Who saved her from death?
Who gave her a breath?

The water remains calm.
A presence she can feel,
Not sure if it’s real.

Lost in the ocean,
She follows an unseen guide,
Searching for the tide.

-Again-


One
She walks through a door.
A woman stands,
Offers her hand.

And with one word,
She feels the ground-
Though not lost or found.

She comes from her far away land-
Listens to her words,
Of the likes, she has never heard.

She speaks of feelings
And how the girl was not to blame,
Nor was it her shame.

She sees her caring eyes,
And settles in with relief,
Learning all about grief.

She watches the woman’s tears fall,
Realizing now what she’s lost-
What her past has cost.

It took just one woman
To set her free,
To teach her how sweet life can be.


Awakenings
A long forgotten past
Awakens.

Her rage rumbles
In the distance.

Pain locked away
Awakens.

Her illusions
Begin to fade.

Answers once lost
Awaken.

The truth,
A second chance.

--------------------------------------

And that's as far as I've gotten. Now comes the hard part...chronically my rise and fall...three times over...to write about the manic highs...and the crushing lows...and subsequent rebirth. Sigh. We'll see how it goes.

9-1

I made a to do list today. Had a good 10-20 things on it. I did about three of them. My day just fell apart and I’m not really even sure how it fell apart. I was feeling rejuvenated after therapy...so maybe it was my mother’s phone call directly afterward…it rendered me useless. I have so much to do it’s not even funny. Yet I just laid in my bed and drowned in my misery. I guess I was just incredibly sad and I didn’t know how to express it. I feel like a yo-yo right now, bouncing between fear overcoming and overwhelming me, to taking control and solving my various problems.

And it seems, when I have time to think…demons come out again. It’s when my sadness and rage come out to play. And I don’t know how to deal with either one of them. I am trying so hard to carve out a life for myself. It’s just so difficult. I hadn’t been able to figure out why I had been so tired lately, but I think I figured it out- just so many battles raging inside of me right now. And then too, I guess, I am not eating enough, so my energy is low. And I just have to…wake up each morning and face the darkness…what my past has cost me. No decision or choice I make is in isolation. The effects, if not immediate, are felt later.

Welcome to later.

And so, I’m taking the problems as they come. Well, sorta. First, fear will paralyze me, then I have to spend many hours coming to grips with that fear, and then somehow get the strength to shove it aside, and then finally concentrate on finding solutions. But the fear remains present, the questions is how much every day. And do I have the strength to overcome it.

And sadness…still trying to come to grips with that. And figure out what to do with it. As much as I yell and shout that I want to cry, Bobb remains right when she says I don’t cry because I’m still afraid to lose control. At first I wanted to disagree with her, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew deep down she was right. When I cry…I can’t imagine the emotions that will be released. And if Bobb’s prediction is right (which thus far they have been)…I’m going to be really unsteady at that time. Every time I do get close to crying, part of me still shuts it down. Maybe I’m not ready? I’m not sure.

And I’m finally coming to terms with the past. With my childhood and with my mom. That it was…is indeed something to be sad about. I’d love to say stuff about my childhood sometimes, but the fact remains I can’t, because I can’t…remember. And no matter how much I wish and want…I’m still stuck with b*tch as mother. She used and abused me like no other and continues to lie about it. And sometimes she can be so f*cking nice…but I have learned that there is always a motive underneath, and always a guilt trip nearby. And I always have to be on guard. I can’t let it down, not even once can I pretend she is a “mom.” Because then I’ll get f*cked somehow. And I’d stop talking to her, but she has my little brothers. And I’d lay down my life for them. So that means…I’m stuck playing daughter.

And that hurts because, sometimes in the deepest parts of my heart, I long to just be held and told everything is okay, even if they aren’t. To feel her unconditional love. To feel her embrace and know that it wasn’t laced with thorns. I know this all sounds silly, coming from a grown woman (well, growing, twentysomething)…but when you’ve never had that, even as a child…and life overwhelms you…there still remains that part of you missing.

Family will always be elusive to me. I have always held family in high esteem, so being that I never had one…it does hurt. Because a part of you is always missing. There is no getting around that. I have only parts of a family...I gained a father, but lost so much too. It’s interesting, Bobb posed an interesting thought/idea to me. I forget what we were talking about, I think words to describe me. She mentioned loyal…some words before that (I think determined and something else). But basically super loyal. Which she found interesting because in that loyalty I do become vulnerable and I’m not afraid to show that. Meaning, those people I am completely and utterly loyal to, I also let my affection known. Like to her for instance. I am completely loyal and trusting with her and she is totally aware of that fact and how much fondness and care I have for her. Same with the prof I am close to. I am completely loyal to her as well, and she is also aware of how much I care. Even with my favorite local band, they have a show nearby, I’m there. And they are aware of how much I enjoy their music. Okay, so the list includes like maybe five people, including those three.

But given my personality, and my history…what would fit is that I’d be more stand-offish…I wouldn’t let them know how much they mean to me, that I’d just kinda blow it to the side and not let them know how I truly feel. Because I work awfully hard on NOT being vulnerable. And if I am, there is a wall. But there isn’t one there. I wonder why I am so free there. When I find someone who I am utterly loyal with, it’s like all bets are off, I feel free to express my care. There are just a handful of people I feel very strongly about. And actually verbalize that. It’s just…intriguing.

Another interesting point today was how my “default” in my head is that of things not to work out. And if you know anything about psychology you learn about Erickson and his stages in childhood. The very first one is trust vs. mistrust. Bobb was hypothesizing that perhaps I fell into the mistrust arena…because I don’t trust that things will work out, but much the opposite. So, some need, most likely safety was not even met when I was an infant to toddler. And the more I think about it, the more she is probably right. If my parents argued viscously as an older child, what must it have been like as a little child? Add in the fact we moved every few years at that young age. That left me with no roots, no friends, no real family…but the one I was stuck with. Maybe something I need to begin to correct.

I think I’ll go lay down now. My internal battles are wearing me down. I leave you all with a stanza from one of my poems that has stayed with me, just kinda captures everything.

"Control comes back to me.
I reign in my emotions,
With tears that will never see the flood."

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