Alright I am pissed, angry, and outraged! How do I even put into words what I want to talk about? Good question! Most times I go on with my life and try to pour out my love on those around me and give especially to those I meet that have been through what I have. I have done my best to protect my children from having the same thing happen to them and I spend time with God each day, trying to follow him because I know He had my back way back when.
A year or so ago I decided to try to lose weight. Weight is a big issue because every time an attempt is made I have to hit these old issues head on with every thing inside of me. I lost 65 pounds and then I couldn't face it anymore. So I backed off, gained some of it back, and this last August, went right back at it. This time I'm going a little slower, but I have been sick! I have liver problems, so each time I shed fat I deal with super liver issues-- anything from swelling (mild comparatively) to actually having my eye whites turn yellow (two weeks ago). So it has been rough, but what has been even worse is confronting the emotional barriers. I've struggled with depression and anger like I am a teen again. I've dealt with flash backs to when I was harmed as a kid. Honestly, I am trying to get through this and really don't know that I am going to make it! I know this is part of pulling the weight off, but, freaking A... this is ridiculous! I feel like screaming and jumping up and down and throwing a bigger fit than a mad two year old!
When I talk about dropping the weight I call it 'taking down my shield' because this is what happens, but I've never been able to go past this point. This time I don't want to give up. I really want to see what is on the other side of this. I don't want to be stuck like being held down by my wrists again. I escaped from that time, and I want to escape being in this huge body. I want to let go of the fear, the anger, and the pain. I want to heal my organs and heal the diabetes. I watched my grandmother die an early death from diabetes. This is very personal to me. I can't hold all this in if I am going to get past it. So the only choice is being vulnerable-- not knowing what anyone will think, ---Being brutally raw and real-- definitely non-fiction. This is not something I am open about usually. Please forgive me in advance for the content. If you are sensitive, then probably you want to stop here.
So here it is.
No names... Because I know there are people who will read this and know who I am talking about. That's the reason I wrote my journal in fiction when I was a teen.
At almost five years old I was molested-- raped whatever you want to call it. The flashbacks are hell! As long as I don't disturb my high weight I don't have them, but as soon as I take my shield down they come back like the Nemesis they are. It's not that I don't remember. I remember every blasted horrific second that he got his kicks by using my body to wipe up his pleasure! I wish I could go back to that being blocked out of my memory! On second thought, no, I don't. It was worse knowing something happened but not knowing what.
He started when I was four almost five by setting me on his lap--- I get sick even thinking about it, but it won't leave me alone! It ended at seven sooooo much worse. My dad, suspecting something was wrong, asked me if I wanted him to babysit me anymore, and me being tenacious as I have always been told him that I didn't want to be around him. That exchange between my dad and I --I don't remember it, but my dad does and told me about it about ten years ago when I was trying to remember why it stopped.
It caused my hips to have problems, and caused me to have chronic kidney problems, and have massive issues with just being alright being me, or talking to men, neighbors, and sometimes talking to anyone. I am not good at speaking up for myself or being in crowds unless you expect me to be a mouse! But most of all it caused me to dive deep inside of myself and not let anyone in. I shake like a leaf sometimes and close down becoming angry at anyone that tries to enter my space. Lately I escape my house by going to Panera's with my headphones and write for hours at a time. I works well to finish manuscripts, but it's not the greatest for family life.
And now just writing that down I'm back into tears! I don't like being this way! This is not me! Right now I can't even talk to God about it, which is usually my recourse! Every time I try to pray I feel alone and forgotten! I know it's not true. But that is exactly how I feel. I just can't seem to shake these feelings no matter how I try. The hurt is the worst. I'm back to feeling broken, mis-formed, and terrorized.
The beast that tore apart my life was respected by unsuspecting people, defended by stupid people, and loved by those he didn't hurt. He never faced his due. When he died people bemoaned losing him. I was a teen and I couldn't cry, and at the time I didn't remember why. That was my first signal something was wrong. At seventeen I started counseling and started to remember. It took another six years for my mind to crack its iron doors to let me see the truth. As a teen I wrote to deal with the snippets I remembered. Today sometimes that's still the case-- like today. But today I just completely shut down. So here I am 'journaling' and opening my horrible memories to a public that I don't quite know. Yet here it is. At least this must be a somewhat safe place-- as assine as that sounds! I'm sorry if this is offensive. What happened to me and others is. I'm sorry to sound so raw and angry. I am. It's not like my life is bad. God and me have made it pretty good. Just it hurts. I'd like to be 'normal' or whatever it is called when you haven't faced abuse-- I am not nor will I ever be. I'll be damned though if I will stop fighting for those that have been hurt! I have a voice, and I will use it to shout for them! Because the only voice that spoke up for me was my dad, and that was close to three years to late!
Can I dig the perpetrator up from the grave and stab him myself? Why would anyone want to hurt a child!???? Why not go get a willing woman and get your kicks with her? I'm sorry that I am livid, but I am. Why a tiny child just a little older than my little Tory? I look at her and I don't understand how he could do it!!!!!! I want to scream! I swear if anyone ever did that to Tory I would tear apart limb by limb! I'd would make them wish they had never been born! I really wish I could do that to him! How dare him use me and destroy what my life would have been otherwise! He had no right! He had no right! HE HAD NO RIGHT!!!!!!!!! I am my own. He had no right to harm me or use me or whatever the hell he thought he was doing! What was I of so little value? Got news for the predators of this world!!! Screw you! You should have done to you what you do to the little children! Let's tear you apart and leave you for dead! See how you like it!
I'm sorry to be so vile. This is not like me. My mom has said so many times that she would like to dig up his body and kill it again. I think sometimes I would like to do much worse. I would love for someone to do to him what he did to me and seventeen other girls! Let him not escape and let him have to live with the damage for the rest of his life! Bastard! Jerk! How dare he think he had the right to touch me in that way! I was a little child! Now even as a forty something year old woman I want to shrivel up and die some days! Let him deal with the kidney pain and the hip sticking because he was way to big to be doing what he did to a four year old little body! No one knew the damage, but I live with it everyday of my life! If I don't keep moving I will end up not being able to walk because of the problem in my hips and that goes right back to him! I remember as a child having kidney infections so bad that I would scream in pain. To this day if I am not really careful to get enough fluids I will bleed while I pee! He had no right to have a peaceful death! I wish he would have felt what it was like to be his rag! I wish he lived with his own damage! I wish he could live with the vulnerability he caused! But he didn't. And somehow I've got to let go of this anger, but right now I don't feel like it! Right now forgiveness seems to good for him even though years before I was able to forgive him-- I am not there today. Maybe that is where I need help. Seething anger seems to be my companion right now, and I really don't like that.
No comments:
Post a Comment