Wednesday, May 31, 2006


I'm so tired. I just want to give up. I don't have the energy or the strength to keep fighting this.

I feel so incredibly hopeless.

I'm not worth it. I'm not worth helping.


It's not worth struggling through this. I always end up in the same place - feeling like a piece of a shit.

I hurt.
I'm sad. Beyond sad.

I want to give up. I want to sleep. Forever.

The tears are just pouring out, yet I'm feeling worse. I can't stop them.

I want to hurt myself. I want to cut. Slash. Erase the pain.

I wish I had the courage to just... fuck I don't know. Thoughts of killing myself are running rampant right now. The sweet relief. The end of turmoil.

I'm reading the contract I signed with my counsellor. I can't break it. I want to. I really really want to. But it's not the answer, I have to keep telling myself it's not the answer.

This too shall end.

But when?

I'm tired.


So here I am. I'm home.

I don't want to be here. I don't want to be anywhere actually.

Today is not a good day. Yesterday wasn't either.

I'm not sure how I am. I'm here, I'm breathing, but I'm not alive - if that makes sense. I don't know how to explain it.

I'm feeling sad I think, yet numb at the same time.

Fuck I've lost my mind.

ML said it best when she said she felt like two people...

I'm questioning my sanity. I suppose that's a good thing. Crazy people don't often think they're crazy...right?

I haven't felt like doing anything for a few months now. I've been trying really hard to hide it from everyone by doing more things than I normally do. Overcompensation. I don't even want to get out of bed in the mornings anymore. I just want to curl up and cry. The more I try to hide it the worse it's getting.

Can depression get worse, even with anti-depressants?

I feel hopeless. I feel worthless.

And in case some of you are thinking this is related to spending a week with my father, this has been going on long before that. Although I'm sure seeing him as much as I did wasn't helpful.

I don't know why I constantly have the need to hide how I'm really feeling. Actually, I do. As a kid I had to hide everything. It's a hard habit to break I guess.

Aw well whatever... it's another day I'm still breathing...

Friday, May 26, 2006

New York

I'm having a wonderful time, yet finding myself growing more sad and depressed. Scared and exhausted.

I don't understand.

My father has not done or sad anything inappropriate.

I'm in NY, I've seen a Broadway play, spent hours in Central Park and Battery Park. I'm living my dream.

But I'm not enjoying it.

I've been on edge, extremely hypervigilant for a week now.

I want to go home. I want to see my boyfriend whom I miss terribly. I want to play with my dogs. I want to sleep in my own bed.

I don't want to go home. I don't want to walk into that house, walk in that ROOM and be flooded with memories.

I don't know. I'm rambling. There's a million things going on inside of my head, a million feelings, a billion thoughts, I can't seem to pinpoint a single one.

I wish I could just open my mouth and close my eyes and all of the things that are trapped inside of me are released, silently screaming from within and polluting the air around me instead of poisoning my insides.


fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Friday, May 19, 2006

Pep Talk

I'm off to New York tomorrow for a week.

I've been really scared and nervous for the past few weeks as I'm going to New York with my father and his wife. His wife offered the trip as a way for me to get away from everything for a while, and by everything they mean the separation and pending divorce. They paid for the plane ticket and hotel for me and I just couldn't turn it down.

On many levels I wish did decline the offer.

I'm terrified that he is going to manipulate a situation so we are alone together. Terrified that he's going to say something triggering or touch me inappropriately. Scared to death that I will turn into that scared little girl and freeze if he does do anything.

I won't freeze. I can't let myself. I NEED to stand up and tell him NO! You can't touch me or say things like that to me, it's wrong and I won't allow it.

I would love it if I could just say... OK y'know what, DON'T! DON'T EVER fucking touch me again. DON'T EVER fucking say those things to me again.

I'm afraid I won't be able to.

I'm terrified that I might have to.

I KNOW I absolutely need to.

If I don't, I'll be back to where I started. I'll take so many steps backwards in my healing. I can't let that happen.

I CAN say something if I need to.

I CAN protect myself.

I WILL protect myself.

My counsellor used what I call the "D card" - we talked about this during our last session and the importance of protecting myself. The "D card" is my counsellor being disappointed in me if I don't protect myself. Hearing her say she's disappointed was almost catastrophic the first (and hopefully the last) time, I couldn't handle disappointing her and myself at the same time. I was a wreck for days after that. I know she said it because it's an incredible driving force for me to protect myself. I don't really like the pressure of the "D card" but I know it's that needed push to ensure I do stand up and protect myself.


I have to...

On a side note, take care everyone. And ML - it's NOT YOUR FAULT.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Letter to my father

I've been writing this for months, I can never quite articulate what I really want to say. How angry I am. How much pain he caused. This is just a start and I don't think there will ever really be an end...

I fucking hate you.

You stole my innocence. You stole my ability to be a child. You stole my ability to trust. You destroyed the precious father daughter relationship I longed for.

You stole everything that was pure.

I was just a little girl. Why did you do those things to me? Why did you have to hurt me? Why did you always tell me I was daddy's special girl... that I was the most beautiful girl in the world until you would hurt me then you would say I was ugly and that you hated me. Is that why you hurt me, because you hated me and I deserved it? Is there something I did to deserve it? Was I not good enough? I always tried so hard to please you, to be the best daughter you could have and yet you still continued to hurt me.

Asking these questions are ridiculous. NOTHING I did or could have done was reason enough to do those terrible things to me. To hurt me in so many ways, to scar my life, to take away my childhood. To destroy my innocence.

The hate I have for you is so encompassing I think it will swallow me whole. I sometimes think about how I could cause you the same turmoil you have caused me, but that is just not possible. There is nothing that I could inflict on you that you would even remotely begin to equal the pain you have caused me.

How do you wake up every morning knowing what you did to me? How do you look at yourself in the mirror and not see the monster you really are? How do you laugh and smile and lead a normal life while I'm left struggling each and every fucking day?

Do you remember the hair brush? Do you remember the hot curling iron? Do you remember the cigarette burns you left on my thighs? Do you remember my cries of pain? Do you remember me pleading and begging you to stop? Do you remember laughing at me?

I remember.

I will NEVER be able to fucking forget. I will never be able to erase the pain, the memories, the terror or confusion.

I despise you. I can barely wait till the day you die so I can spit on your grave.

Fuck you daddy dearest.


I decided to post this today because it's NOT MY FAULT. It never has been my fault. It never will be my fault.

My counsellor said that to me in one of our sessions, I can't remember if it was yesterday or last week but it has been sitting with me, weighing heavily on my mind.


I am really very angry.

Today I recognize and accept that it is not my fault. I understand that tomorrow or next week or next month I may not. When we first started working on this, I saw it as all or nothing. I either accept 100% that it was not my fault ALL of the time, or I accept that it was ALL of the time. No in between, no grey area. I'm giving myself permission to have a grey area. To go back and forth with it either being or not being my fault. Eventually, I will no longer need the grey area and it will forever be NOT MY FAULT.

I need this grey area because I have hit a wall. I have been so terrified of even trying to accept that it's not my fault because of what it means and the changes it brings. To accept that it wasn't my fault means I have to change my way of thinking, my way of coping, my way of surviving. Everything. And I would have to do it all at once, leaving me floundering. With the grey area, I'm not floundering. I'm still scared, but I'm not terrified and pressed against a wall barely breathing. I can see the other side, I can see how it's not my fault and understand that it's not my fault and slowly let go of the shame and guilt, the hatred, the disgust I hold for myself. I can slowly start to adapt to the loss of those feelings and thoughts allowing room for new thoughts and feelings.

This is going to be a very long, rough journey with many bumps, hills and valleys along the way. I kind of wish I had a map to guide me, but with all you, my counsellor and the inner strength that sometimes seems never ending I'm sure I'll reach the end in one piece, a fuller more complete piece.

Monday, May 15, 2006

Fucked up

I've been trying to write. Trying to think. Trying to process. Trying to feel.


It's like a tornado of thoughts and feelings ripping through my mind, nothing constant.

Not one stable thought.

At times, the tornando stops and my head is empty. Still, not a stable thought.

The dreams... those, those won't go away.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

NOT my fault..

This has always been a really hard area for me, I imagine for a lot of survivors.

My counsellor and I had a breakthrough of sorts of today. Through a very difficult homework assignment we worked at the abuse not being my fault.

I've always blamed myself. Always told myself I deserved it. I was a terrible kid. I asked for it. IT WAS MY FAULT.

We discovered why I did/do this - it was a barrier to the deeper pain, grief, loss, anger. It allowed me to be in control, to give meaning to the abuse.

We are closer now than ever before with me saying IT'S NOT MY FAULT.

It's not.

And I'm terrified.

I'm overwhelmed.

I'm anxious.

Terrified. I'm shaking as I type this.

I don't know what to do. I'm so scared I'm going to wake up tomorrow and be lost. If I'm sad or in pain tomorrow, I can't do my normal of beating myself up emotionally if it's not my fault. I can't direct the anger at me.

I might actually have to feel all of the feelings I'm scared to feel.

I don't know how to handle those feelings - one of the reasons of blaming myself - so I don't have to.

I want to cry.

I can't.

It's not my fault.

I'm scared...

More on Sexual Feelings During Sexual Abuse

People's bodies respond differently to sexual abuse and incest, but bodily response is irrelevant. The only things that are relevant is consent and legality.
If you did not consent to the sexual contact, then it was wrong. It was a crime. Some criminals will try to convince you that the orgasm proves that you consented, and some ignorant judges or juries may believe it. But it simply IS NOT TRUE. Our bodies are made to respond to touching and contact even under severe duress. This does not mean you are in any way responsible or that you participated willingly. Incest most often happens to small children, who are in no way capable of providing consent to a sexual act. An orgasm is not considered consent. It was an involuntary reaction by your body, like a sneeze or a hiccup.

To illustrate the principles of consent, I will use a slightly less horrible example. A woman was being relentlessly pressured by her husband for sex. He drove her crazy. She tried to talk to him about it, but he would not accept her viewpoint, and kept bothering her. So eventually she would relent just to get some peace of mind.

After the sex, he always pointed out that she had also had an orgasm. He took it as proof that she had wanted sex too, and proof that he was doing nothing wrong.

But he was wrong.

In this example, the wife relented, which means that it was not a criminal act. But in a healthy relationship, sex is an act of love that celebrates a relationship. Afterwards, you should feel good about yourself, your partner, and the fact that you are together. But to this woman, sex was a chore. Afterwards, she felt lousy about herself, lousy about her husband, and was seriously questioning their entire life together. Her orgasm had no relevance to the fact that this was a seriously unhealthy relationship.

In the context of incest, abuse or sexual assault, the situation is even worse. In these instances, incest and the sexual abuse isn't even about sex. Sex is merely the weapon used by the attacker to demean the victim as much as possible. In Old Testament times, soldiers of a victorious army would often rape the soldiers of the losing army -- not because they were gay, not because they wanted sex, but because rape was the ultimate humiliation, the ultimate act of domination and violence. And everyone knew it.

It's understandable that survivors of incest, abuse or sexual assault would be confused by their body's response if an orgasm occurred. But make no mistake about it -- that does not make it a sexual experience. It does not imply consent to sex or enjoyment, and does not negate the horrible emotional wounds that are inflicted by incest. It was an involuntary bodily reaction, like a cough or a sneeze. It should not be interpreted in any other way.

If you had an orgasm or response as a result of incest, please do not let that stop you from getting help in healing from the crime that was committed against you.

What We Would Like You to Know About Us (Survivors)

1. We grew up feeling very isolated and vulnerable a feeling that continues into our adult lives.

2. Our early development has been interrupted by abuse, which either holds us back or pushes us ahead developmentally.

3. Sexual abuse has influenced all parts of our lives.Not dealing with it is like ignoring an open wound. Our communication style, our self-confidence, and our trust levels are affected.

4. Putting thoughts and feelings related to our abuse "on the back burner" does not make them go away. The only way out is to go through these emotions and process them.

5.Our interest in sexual activity will usually decline while we are dealing with this early trauma. This is because:we are working on separating the past from the present.

6. Pleasure and pain can sometimes be experienced simultaneously.

7. It is important for us to be in control, since control is what we lacked as children.

8. Sometimes we need a lot of space. Pressuring us to have sex will only increase our tension.

9. We often experience physical discomforts, pains, and disorders that are related to our emotions.

10. We often appear to be extremely strong while we are falling apart inside.

11. There is nothing wrong with us as survivors -- something wrong was done TO us.

12. Sometimes others get impatient with us for not "getting past it" sooner. Remember, we are feeling overwhelmed, and what we need is your patience and support. Right now, it is very important for us to concentrate on the past. We are trying to reorganize our whole outlook on the world; this won't happen overnight.

13. Your support is extremely important to us. Remember; we have been trained to hold things in. We have been trained NOT to tell about the abuse. We did not tell sooner for a variety of reasons: we were fearful about how you would react, what might happen, etc. We have been threatened verbally and/or nonverbally to keep us quiet, and we live with that fear.

14. Feeling sorry for us does not really help because we add your pain to our own.

15. There are many different kinds of people who are offenders. It does not matter that they are charming or attractive or wealthy. Anybody -- from any social class or ethnic background, with any level of education-- may be an offender. Sexual abuse is repetitive, so be aware of offenders with whom you have contact. Do not let them continue the cycle of abuse with the next generation of children.

16. We might not want or be able to talk with you about our therapy.

17. We are afraid we might push you away with all our emotional reactions. You can help by: listening, reassuring us that you are not leaving, not pressuring us, touching (WITH PERMISSION) in a nonsexual way.

18. Our therapy does not break up relationships - it sometimes causes them to change as we change. Therapy often brings issues to the surface that were already present.

19. Grieving is a part of our healing process as we say goodbye to parts of ourselves.

From Triumph over Darkness by Wendy Ann Wood, M.A. copyright Wendy Ann Wood 1993

Tuesday, May 09, 2006


Today I'm sad and I don't really know why...

Monday, May 08, 2006



I scared my boyfriend Friday night. I had a dream. I don't remember the dream. Saturday morning he told me I scared the hell out of him. I apologized.

In the middle of the night I started whimpering, mumbling and shaking my head no in my sleep. I started thrashing and flailing my limbs violently. He said I jumped, caught about a foot of air and fell back on my bed. He said I curled up in the fetal position and a few tears ran down my face as I continued sleeping.

I don't remember the dream.

Saturday night I had another dream. I remember this one.

I was in my basement, HE was there. Everything looked the same as it did THAT night... we had the fire going, When a Man Loves a Woman was on the television. He had me pinned, my hands under his knees and I was kicking and shaking my head and crying and screaming for help.

There I was on the couch. There HE was on top of me. The REAL me was watching from the middle of the room. The REAL me tried to scream, tried to reach me, but couldn't. It was like I was behind a glass wall and there was nothing I could do. I felt completely helpless. I couldn't save me. I felt like a failure.

During the dream I was kicking again, and moaning/whimpering.

The dream played out exactly the same as when HE raped me. When HE penetrated me is when I woke up. I jumped and was hyperventilating. I was terrified. It took me a few seconds to realize it was my boyfriend holding me. I closed my eyes and forced myself to take slow deep breaths until I was calmed down enough to pretend to be normal. I turned on my TV and made myself concentrate on an infomercial.

It's no surprise I'm exhausted. I had the identical dream again last night, not sure if I was jumping or kicking or moaning in my sleep as I was alone, but I did bolt upright and I've been awake ever since.

My doctor prescribed Clonazepam (Rivotril) to help with sleep and the nightmares. I'm hesitant to take it as I firmly believe the stuff I refuse to process or deal with during the day comes out when I'm sleeping and it's helping me in it's own terrifying way.

Thursday, May 04, 2006


This is from my favorite radio station. The guy doing the commentary speaks out about all kinds of things, and he says stuff the rest of us are usually afraid to say.

Treatment of Pedophiles in Jail

It is harsh at the end, possibly triggering. So please, if you're not up to it, please don't click the link...

**Update 05/10/06 6:26AM**

I moved the file to another hosting service. It works now!

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Everybody wants...

And I will turn off
And I will shut down
Burying the voices of my conscience hitting ground
And I will turn off
And I will shut down
The chemicals are restless in my head

Tuesday, May 02, 2006


I'm nearing the end of my rope.

I am incredibly stressed. There are things happening at my workplace that I'm not able to talk about, but really wish I could. It's eating me alive! Suffocating me.

I'm very tempted to take short term disability to remove myself from the situation because I'm not coping very well and have been ignoring my needs and self care and allowing myself to be consumed by the situation.

I've been having anxiety/panic attacks lately. My heart races, I can't breathe, I feel dizzy, my arms tingle.

I think it's a combination of the stress at work and the stress of my life. Actually I know it's a combination of it all.

Does anyone have any techniques they use to handle stress or anxiety attacks that actually work?