It's been a while...

Wow, how time flies and life just happens.

I've come here many times over the past few years to write but I always delete what I wrote for some reason. I think it's because I feel guilty that I don't need this anymore.

I'm in a good place and have been for a few years.

I got married in 2009 to the boyfriend I often spoke of in my posts. We have a good marriage, we are happy. We communicate, we trust each other. It is so wonderful to have someone I can count on, who understands me. He has read this blog from start to finish and never once did he pass judgement. I love him!

We had a baby girl in 2010. She is the absolute love of my life. I'm biased, but she is amazing! I thank God for her daily. Every morning is like waking up in a dream, like I've stepped into someone else's seemingly perfect, happy life.

I never, ever thought this would be my life. If I was asked 10 years ago where I would be today I NEVER would have said this. I never would have thought happily married with a daughter was in my future. Based on my past alone I figured I would be a hardened person who was still very much alone.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that there is hope. There is a top to that seemingly never ending mountain we climb on the way to healing. Those peaks and valleys that seem to be like quicksand, sucking you down and holding you in a standstill of pain DO end. I'm living proof. If you can't trust in the process (I had a helluva time trusting my counselor that things would get better if I just keep working at it) trust in me (I know, cliche!) because it does happen.

You DO heal.

You WILL find happiness.

Most of all, you DESERVE to be healed. You DESERVE to be happy.

3rd time, 3 different people

I was sexually assaulted in December 2008. Again.

I just about lost it. I walked into my house and tried calling the police but I couldn't even dial the phone. I just stood there shaking, so full of rage that another person had violated my body that I could have killed him if I wasn't overwhelmed with flashbacks.

My fiance (J) and I were coming home from getting dinner at A&W and this guy was walking in the middle of the street in front of my house and wouldn't get out of the way so I could park. I honked the horn at him and he started yelling at me, waving his arms like he was trying to fly. I recognized him as a crack head who frequents the store where I work. I put the window down and asked him to move, he told me to suck his cock but he at least moved out of the way. I parked and got out and told him he can't talk to me like that. He spouted off more filth, and I walked over to him and told him to shut up and to get the fuck outta here - MY MISTAKE. He reached out and grabbed my breasts, squeezed and laughed. I shoved him, twice, and started screaming for J who was trying to get the tire iron out of the truck. I was going to punch him, pound the living hell out of him, kick him until he was unrecognizable. All I could think was KILL KILL KILL... and then I lost it. I got really scared instead. I saw my father flash before my eyes, I saw Byron holding me down and that twisted look on his face. J finally took heed of my shouting for him and I screamed what this guy did and J ripped off his jacket and started walking towards him. J was going to kill him, I called J back and told him it's not worth it. Let the police deal with it because I'll be damned if I'm not reporting this one.

So that's what happened. I approached when I shouldn't have. I recognized him, had talked to him a few times, knew he was a crack head and thought he was harmless because he was always stoned and could barely walk.

So when I got to the house and stormed through the door, wracked with sobs and partially unintelligible because I was mumbling I said to my mother that I was just sexually assaulted in front of the house. Can you believe I didn't know the number to the Police? It didn't even cross my mind to call 911, no I wanted to call dispatch. I couldn't dial the phone, I was shaking and crying. I could barely breathe. I tossed the phone at my mother and asked her to call the police.

The police show up. They take my statement. I'm running on auto pilot at this point. I answer their questions the best I can, I write an official police report. They tell me they have brought a dog out to find this guy but because the sent is over 30 minutes old it's doubtful they'll find him. I remind the officer that I KNOW this guy from where I work but I don't know his name but I sure as hell can point him out. They promise me that I will hear from them in a few days at the latest. They'll do everything they can to catch him... BLAH BLAH BLAH

I haven't heard from them. Not one single peep. I took a week off work because I was too scared I'd see him again and freeze. I called the Constable who took my statement and police report, he never called me back. My first experience reporting to the police is a nightmare and I am ever glad I never bothered to do so before this. What a waste of fucking time. Not only is it humiliating to explain to a stranger that you have been touched, fondled, squeezed and laughed at but then they do nothing. They can't even be bothered to return your phone call.

I have been struggling with this since it happened. I keep thinking that there HAS to be something wrong with me, that I've done something to deserve this. Three times, three different people. My father who used me for years. Byron. Now this guy.

I don't understand why this has affected me as much as it has. I've been through worse. Much much worse. I'm scared to go out by myself. I carry my knife with me 24/7 and I now have a baseball bat in the truck. At work I don't go anywhere without the bear spray canister. I already know I won't be able to use them. Guess who came into the store last week?

Yep. You guessed it.

I froze for a second after he walked in. The thought of calling the police and telling them he was here crossed my mind for a fraction of a second and then I thought Why? What the fuck are those useless asshats going to do? Show up in 20 minutes after he is long gone? Take another statement and then do NOTHING?

So I simply served him and let him go...

The Cycle

Fuck.

I stopped writing because it's always the same thing over and over again.

"I feel like crying"
"I'm sad"
"I feel worthless"

Blah blah fucking blah.

Can you tell I'm angry? I am so fucking sick of all of those things. I have absolutely had it with all of this bullshit just creeping up and smothering me.

What do I do?

I don't know what to do.

I'm getting to the point where I just want to scream a big "FUCK YOU" and run in front of a bus.

Like a bug on a windshield. Splat. Peace. No feelings. No thoughts. Eternal peace.

Christ. I've lost it. Completely fuckin lost it.

And here I am telling myself this too shall pass... LIAR... this too shall pass... it passes but it always always always comes back.

I'm stuck on some demented merry-go-round. My feeble pleas ignored by the devil in a conductors suit. Oh wait.. maybe that's my father. Or maybe Byron...

Maybe it's me?

WTF is wrong with people

This is a rant about the serious decline of society...

I live by what I think is a basic rule: Treat others how I want to be treated. Easy and simple. Or so I thought.

I was grocery shopping last night and when I came out to my truck I found the passenger door was severely dented and scratched by the asshole in the van parked next to me. Based on the severity of the damage it wasn't a simple opening of their door and hitting mine, it's not a case of the wind catching the door and making contact with mine. This was a blatant opening of their door and smashing it into mine. They couldn't be bothered to leave a note or anything. I wrote down their license plate number and went into the store to have them paged. No one showed up. I sat in the parking lot for 3 hours waiting for them, no one showed up. I called J to come with my camera so I could take pictures of the damage to our truck and the paint transfer on their door.

I don't understand why someone would do that and not leave a note. If I did that, I would at least leave a note with my info or wait for the owner of the vehicle to come out so I could apologize and exchange info. I would feel horribly guilty if I didn't and I couldn't live with myself afterwards.

I work extremely hard for the things I have and I don't have much. What I do have, I take pride in. It makes me so angry when someone damages or steals my possessions.

Speaking of stealing... I put my smoke down outside like I always do if someone comes to the store. I served them and went back outside and in the span of a minute some fucking ass monkey stole my smoke. I saw a few punks walk past and I guess they just couldn't help themselves.

I've lost all faith I had in people. There are good people out there but there are just too few of them to combat the fucking inconsiderate assholes. Where are these peoples morales? Why are there so many of them?

I'm done. Fuck my rule. I have spent the majority of my life treating everyone I meet with respect and respecting their hard earned possessions. If no one wants to do the same, then fuck 'em.

If you can't beat 'em... join em.

Expectations

I am fuming. I am so fucking pissed off that I don't know what to do with the anger but I'm not turning it on myself so where do I put it?

Am I not allowed to be mad and frustrated? It seems by J's standards I'm always supposed to be smiles and sunshine. I'm not allowed to get frustrated with him and god forbid I try to talk to him because somehow, no matter what the situation, it turns into my fucking fault.

The day I quit my job is the day it seems everything started to run downhill.

J claimed that he was going to quit his job after his parents left and find something that pays more. I've heard this many times so I didn't want to put much faith into it but I guess I did. As far as I know he hasn't applied anywhere. He claims it's because he wants to keep his benefits so we can afford my not-so-anti-depressants. Well, if he got a job that paid more we could easily get Blue Cross and have nothing to worry about. I have been applying for jobs all over the place, but they're all male dominated jobs (warehouse, construction, driving) that I'm not getting call backs. I'm really struggling with this as I can easily do those jobs, earn great money but because I don't have a penis I'm not even given a chance. J could easily do those jobs but he won't even apply.

I feel like I'm in a pressure cooker with all the shit J is putting on me. There was a great job I interviewed for, and the person who referred me told me the manager said the interview went great. I haven't heard back. J constantly kept telling me I hope you get that job, you better get that job... Well I didn't and because I didn't I'm under even more pressure to find something else.

I don't understand why it's solely up to me to improve our situation.

Untitled

I feel inadequate. I feel like a failure. I feel lost.

The inadequacy is partly from my mother. It seems that nothing I do or how hard I work is not good enough. Last week she had me in tears. More than tears. Sobbing to the point of hyperventilating. You know as a little kid when you would get so upset that you gasped for air during a tantrum and breathed snot bubbles? That was me - minus the snot bubbles!

The woman is always on me about something. I do my best to block it out and ignore it but sometimes it eats through my extra tough exterior and just breaks me. Examples of such are completely eluding me at the moment which is probably good thing as I don't need to be reminded of the poison.

I heard back from C, thankfully the answer was yes we can still work together. Now I just need to figure out how I would like to proceed... email or phone sessions.

Phone sessions are more helpful. Emails are easier. I need more helpful. I want easier. I'm afraid I will sabotage myself with phone sessions by not talking about what I need to talk about. I'm good at that. Too good I think. C is even better at not letting me though.

Aw fuck... phone sessions. I'm making a pact with myself not to sabotage, not to fuck around but to be real and talk about what I need to talk about.

Running On Empty

I feel like screaming. Yelling. Shouting. Breaking something.

I'm fucked no matter which way I turn.

I've been on my own for almost a year now. In that year I think I've undone everything C or T helped me do. I'm an emotional wreck that even the jaws of life couldn't save.

I'm scared to contact C again and ask for help, although I have figured out a way to pay for sessions... the good ol' tax refund. With that I would be able to have 10 sessions. I'm worried that I'll waste them, that I won't be able to talk after all this time has passed. Maybe I'll ask C for email sessions to begin with as I am better at writing my feelings and thoughts as opposed to verbalizing them. Or is that just a way out from my fear? I really don't know.

OK, I did it. I sent C an email asking if we could still work together.

Now I wait...

Money Matters

I'm annoyed.

I'm in a place where I need help but can't get it.

I can't afford it!

Thanks to the supposed boom in Alberta all of the free counselling services are overloaded and the waiting period is a minimum of six to nine months. What the fuck? It's no wonder the suicide rate is going up. The only way I can get help is if I go to the Psych ward at the University and hope they would accept me. In reality even if they did accept me I don't think it would - I don't and can't trust people right away and it would take a while to build trust to open up and talk.

I really don't know what I'm going to do. I have been very tempted to start self harming again because I know it would help me now, but I also know it will harm me in the long run. I read on a self help site to use ice or an elastic band on my wrist and snap it but neither works well or provides the relief and numbing effect I so desire. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep those urges at bay. The other night I almost did it in front of J but I bit my lip till it bled instead. I guess that maybe that is self harm, but not my chosen form of it.

My sister is fueling what I'm going through. We sold our lake lot and she sent an email telling me to be proud to be the product of a pedophile.

Ouch!

She was abused by him as well, but she doesn't know I was and I will never tell her. I'm ignoring her email by not replying but what she said is driving me insane and fueling the guilt that has built back up.

I have never looked at myself from that angle but I am the product of evil.

I am the product of a pedophile.

Fucking lovely.

Just One Thing After Another

Does this plague everyone? Is everyone else in the world constantly getting slammed with one fucking thing after another? It seems be what my life has always been and will always be.

I'm not complaining. I'm making an observation.

Ok, I am complaining. I am bitching and whining and just generally pissed off with the world.

J's (my fiance) parents have been living with us since January. They came out to the prairies to work, make some cash and go back to Newfoundland. They leave on Friday. I hate to say it, but I can't wait to drop them off at the airport.

I had been warned that J's mom was a little crazy but assured that I had nothing to worry about. Boy was I told wrong.

I like his mom, when she's not crazy! I like his dad, when he's not being a chauvinistic pig or drunk.

I've been under scrutiny for four months and it has been somewhat hellish. If I say or do something that is not mom "approved" I get horribly evil looks. I have recently started to return those looks!

She has made it clear I am NOT part of their family and I believe I never will be. I believe that actions speak louder than words. Sometimes. One night she cooked dinner (which I am expected to do, but I don't always) and filled up her husbands, J's and his brothers plates and set the table leaving mine empty. This told me that I am not part of her family.

We have a grocery money jar which everyone puts in sixty dollars every two weeks. When she goes shopping she will only buy enough for the four of them and leave me out. Yet again, I am NOT part of her family.

This bothers me. It actually hurts.

Writing this actually makes it seem trivial and I feel foolish. Oh well.

I kind of resent J's family right now. We are in the process of trying to sell our house and move to BC but because J's parents needed to come and work we had to put that off and are now on the verge of loosing the acreage in BC because we had to take our house off the market for a few months. I feel taken advantage of. I let it happen though so only I am responsible

To top it off, with me quitting my job and taking a job as a cashier in a convenient store making a quarter of what I did we are now completely broke and sinking. I'm happier with the job but now am more stressed out due to financial worries. It seems I can't win... but can anyone really?

I am also severely depressed. I'm still taking Effexor but I don't think it's working anymore if that's possible. I have a heck of a time getting out of bed in the morning and going to work. When I get home I go back to bed and crawl out only to eat dinner then head straight back to bed. I'm not sleeping either, just lying there like a zombie watching TV but not really seeing it.

I went for a drive the other night because I was upset and needed to burn off some steam. When I do this, I drive recklessly and speed excessively. I discovered my car has a governor and the top speed I can reach is 160km/hr. I kept wanting to drive into the ditch or hit something but I didn't because I was afraid I wouldn't die instantly and it might hurt. It scares that that is the only reason I didn't.

10 years

Yesterday marked the 10 year anniversary since I was raped.

It was a horrible day, but not just because of what the day was to me.

I quit my job.

My fiance (we got engaged on Christmas Day) presented me with a beautiful bouquet of Gerber Daisies which are my favorite and when he gave me them to me I cried.

I haven't written for an incredibly long time and I miss it. I have needed to write, but if I didn't then nothing was real. I know this trick all too well. If I ignore it, it goes away. Ignore it for months and up rears it's ugly head and gobbles me whole, eating everything I have worked so hard to achieve. This is where I am now.

I hated getting out of bed to go to work, so I stopped going. They demoted me so I quit. I have no idea what I'm going to do I just know I don't want to work there anymore. I do know I need a break but can't afford it. I'm seriously considering going to work at Wal-Mart or something similar. Any place I can go into myself and run on auto pilot.

I feel like I'm back to where I was a year and a half ago. I'm lost. I've veered so far off the path and stumbled in so many different directions I don't know how to get back.

I need help, yet I find myself too scared and weak to ask for it...

well...

You all are right I think.

I don't think it's possible to heal 100%. Every experience, good or bad, leaves a mark on us and that mark stays forever. I believe it's how we deal with those marks that impacts us in the long run.

I let this control my life for so long and I guess without knowing it, I decided not to let it. I fully expect to be in bad places again, I expect to have nightmares and flashbacks again at some point in time. What I don't expect is that I'll be back where I once was, to the deepest depths of despair, practicing SI or thinking about suicide.

I've been thinking about this a lot and I fully believe I am prepared to handle a flashback or a terrifying nightmare because I have the tools to handle it. I know how to bring myself back and remind myself that he can't hurt me now. I can listen and believe myself when I repeat over and over in my head that it's OK, I'm OK and I will be OK.

It's strange... it's like this switch was flipped in my head and I understand myself better than I ever have. I can also toot my own horn and look at the strength and the courage it took to get here.

Life isn't all roses, sometimes we get shit on by elephants but after time the stink fades...

The Journey?

When do you know when you've healed as much as you can? How do you know? Do you ever really heal?

New beginnings?

Well... this sucks.

With the help of C and our session today I think I've reached a plateau of sorts. I think I have healed as much as I can, at least for this point in my life.

That's great. That's cause for celebration.

At least it should be.

Our session ended just 30 minutes ago, and I've been sitting on my bed crying since I hung up the phone.

I'm proud of myself. There was a time when I didn't think I'd reach this place and I thought that when I finally did I know it. Dancing down the street know it.

I do know it though. And I guess I've known it for a while now because I haven't been able to write, I haven't been able to talk about it and I don't really think about it that much anymore. I can sleep without nightmares, I'm not rocked with flashbacks.

Yet, I'm terrified....

That's My Job

I was going through my music folder on my computer earlier today and came across this song. As soon as I saw it, my heart stopped. At least it felt like it.

I played it.

And I cried. The tears just streamed down my face. I sat in front of my computer with my eyes closed feeling pain and grief. Loss.

The song hits me so strong because even though it's about a boy and his father, it's about a relationship I never had and never will have.

It's heartbreaking.

I needed to post it on here to let go of some of the pain the song creates. I can't hold it alone.

Thank you for sharing in my pain.

[That's My Job]

struggles

I've been avoiding this place for a long time. I haven't wanted to deal with anything related to this and coming here is just a reminder of what I'm trying to ignore.

I've tried to write a few times but I end up just writing the same things over and over again - I'm sad, I feel like crying... I'm sick of it.

It's been such a long time I really don't know where to start

Vacation

Whew... I have the rest of the week off. It was a bit of a fight to get it, but I won the battle!

Today was my first day to sleep in and relax a bit - well that's what it was supposed to be, but I can't sit still. Instead I taught myself how to lay lino in the basement bathroom. My boyfriend and I had finished painting it a few days ago so I had to scrape paint off the cement floor and putty from when we did the drywall before I could put the lino down. I only finished half of it because I was dying of heat and sweating to death, 27C before noon today. It's supposed to cooler tomorrow so I figure I'll finish the rest. I'm becoming quite the jack of all trades and I'm rather good at it (if I toot my own horn!) If I finish the basement bathroom tomorrow then on Wednesday I'm tackling the upstairs bathroom - ripping off the wall tiles that have been there for 27 years should be a challenge!

Doing all of this work is letting my get out my frustrations with work and my life. I'm actually feeling pretty good right now. Found out yesterday at work that the company I work for lost the contract so we will be transitioning to other jobs by July 31st. I really hope I am not here by then, I'm aiming at moving to BC by mid July.

I had a big scare last week with my yellow Lab Sandy. She had bloody diarrhea and vomit - not something my boyfriend (he kicks ass) enjoyed cleaning up. I couldn't do it, I just kept gagging. I called the vet and talked to her about what was happening and they wanted her in right away so my mother took her in Friday morning and left her there. The Vet called me a couple hours later and said she was running a high temperature but otherwise appears healthy and gave me the choice to treat her with meds and see if it clears up or to do blood tests and an x-ray of her stomach. I chose the blood test/x-ray route for peace of mind because she's my baby girl. Thankfully most of the tests came out fine except for a liver enzyme being elevated. They had to send out another test because they couldn't do it there to do further testing on her liver and they let me know on Monday that that test came back fine. So Sandy has been on 3 different types of meds since Friday and is doing great now! I was so incredibly scared something was really seriously wrong - blood in anything is never a good sign. Only a couple more days of meds thankfully - stuffing pills down her throat 4 times a day is not fun.

Other than that, it's the same old shit, different day...

Light Duty

I've lost my mind. I am extremely stressed out. By the time Friday rolls around I'm a complete mess. My temper is rearing it's ugly head. I can't sit still. I can't sleep. I stare blindly at the television. I'm developing twitches in my eyes and fingers.

I've lost it.

I missed 3 and half days of work in the past 2 weeks. I left this past Friday on the verge of tears and an tantrum. When I wanted to thrown my phone across the office I decided I had better leave. I wanted to pack a bag, take my dogs and just leave, start fresh some where else.

My manager pulled me into a meeting this morning. I told him I am extremely stressed and I can't handle this job on top of personal things I'm dealing with. He said he could put me on light duty because they don't want to loose me. I agreed. I had no other choice really, either keep working and live or quit and lose everything. My manager then told me that this job isn't worth my health and they'll do everything they can to help me... bullshit! It's this job that is breaking me down, putting my stress over the edge. I can't go into much detail, but the contract is over July 31 and they have guaranteed all of us jobs, but doing what is the question. They have offered training and such but with no details. I have no idea where I will be at the end of July. I can't handle that, I need to know. I need that stability. I've asked many many times but they go in circles. I've stopped asking.

I want out of this city. The cost of living is skyrocketing but wages aren't increasing. Correction, they're increasing if you're in the oil industry or a rig pig. For starters, it's a boy's club... don't have a penis, you can't play. It's 2007 and that's still an issue. I won't even go into how much that pisses me off because I'm able bodied, I can do ANY work any damn man could... anyway, I'm slowly sinking financially. Every month it's getting a little bit worse. The city now plans to increase residential property taxes by another 10% after a 7% hike in December, yet they are giving a commercial property tax break, lifting the tax levies on businesses and have the gull to tell everyone that they can't afford to fill all the pot holes!!! I hate this fucking place... and to top it off, the city was just named the Murder Capital of Canada!!!!

Time to move?? Uh yeah...

My father is moving to BC - thank fucking god! I've seen him a lot lately, more than I see him in a year in the past few weeks. I get the pleasure of seeing him tomorrow after work... that's just fucking killing me. He slapped my ass with a shoe horn the last time I saw him. I almost jumped out of my skin, but did I say anything? Nope! Not a damn thing, little me just cowers away and then beats myself up for days after. Him moving to BC has thwarted my plans... I want to move to BC. And we are actually talking about it. The housing market here is retarded, the average cost of a single family home is well over $400 000 - the place I want to move to is about $150 000. I've found a couple places I'd like to work there as well - get out of IT and go back in Hotel Management, something I actually enjoyed. My mother, my boyfriend and I are looking at houses there as well. We've found a couple we like and are going to drive out and take a look in person, probably this weekend. It's time to get out of this shitty city and start new. If we can sell this house, take the cash buy a new house out right, pay off all of the bills and still have 100 grand to play with we'll be laughing... and of course I can get out of this house where I was abused and raped... oh how much better it would be.

I'm just rambling, but I've been holding this in and am on the verge of completely snapping...

I see my doctor on the 17th - asking for an increase in my meds. Originally I was going to ask for short term disability, but with light duty I might be able to last until the end of July...

Did I mention I feel like crying all the damn time?
I've been having thoughts of suicide again... while walking through the 4th of a building downtown I imagined jumping...
I want to self harm like fucking crazy because I know I will feel better, at least temporarily...
I tried to contact T but she's moved to BC too (anyone see a trend here?) and referred me to someone else but I can't work up the courage to call... I don't really even want to, but I was in a crisis last week and I think I still kind of am...

My mind just won't stop...

Horrible

I'm in a fairly horrible place right now. Thanks everyone for your suggestions for stress relief, I think the best way to reduce my stress is to quit my job!!

I'll try to be write a little more often...

Stress Management

Any advice?

And here's ugly

I'm working with C again (thank God) and we've been working on the feelings of abandonment I'm experiencing.

When I started writing about my mother the pain and sadness came crashing in. Talking about it with C last night felt like a 20 ton anvil was dropped on me. I started to cry as I asked C not to challenge me on a statement I was about to make... "why would I think anyone could care about me when my own mother doesn't?"

I think about that a lot. I think about the people in my life and wonder why they care? How could they care? Why do they WANT to? There's also the "ifs" - if my own mother couldn't.....

Thinking about this makes me feel horrible.

We also discovered that I hurt or push people away intentionally to see their reaction and to get verification that they do care.

It hit me like a ton of bricks to come to that realization.

I don't want to intentionally hurt anyone, especially the people that I care about or are close to me. But I can see how I do it, and I understand why I do it... it's driven by my need of needing to know that people do care about me... which is just that much more confusing when I go back to the why or how could anyone care about me...

It's all very confusing.

I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I really just want to "fix" this behaviour because it's not how I want to be. I don't like it and I don't really like myself because of it. I think it makes me ugly. Manipulative. It reminds me of the things my mother does...

The one thing I know for sure is that this is behaviour isn't going to keep happening. I'm going to über-aware and try my damnedest to keep it under wraps.