Monthly Archives: May 2012

I am fucked up.

I feel this extreme loneliness eating me up from inside. I want to run, escape and leave it all behind but I can’t. I can’t outrun myself, this is my life and as hard and unfair it is I have to accept it. I struggle, I don’t always or more accurate almost never show it but I do struggle. Every day, every moment is a fight. Small things in my everyday life turns into huge dilemmas just because having to struggle with this every single day leaves no energy left to live “a normal life”. My emotions are upside down and my feelings are nine out of ten times irrational. I’m tired of not being able to just be “normal”. If someone rejects me I feel an instant ache in my chest, I feel unwanted, alone and forgotten and I drown in thoughts of “what did I say? What did I do? Am I not good enough? Why don’t you like me?“. It doesn’t matter if it a colleague saying their to busy at the moment or if it a date that stops getting in touch, I can’t handle being “not chosen”. I know why, or I think I know why, it’s because all those years I felt so alone, scared and not being able to love myself I depended in others to love me. If they didn’t love me or like me it proved me right. I was worth nothing.

I can be such a bitch sometimes, I know it. I make others unlike me by choice, because if they don’t like me
It proves that there is nothing wrong with me not liking me either.

I know it’s contradicting but nothing in how I feel or how I sometimes act is rational or explainable. I’m real fucked up.

If I had three wishes, I would wish;
that my life had never crossed path with his
actually I think that is my only wish and if I had three wishes I would make the same wish all three times just to make sure it came true.
There are other things I wish was different but some things is just life. People get sick, people don’t last forever and there are rough spots in everyone’s life’s. We all have our struggles. That is why I believe in karma because if I have to have all the other struggles as well; how the hell will I make it?

When life is though, when I’m lying here drowning in the feeling of loneliness with tears rolling down my cheek I keep telling myself that life will come around. I just have to make to most of it meanwhile and one day I will be able to breathe without feeling razor blades.

You fucked me up and for that I hate you

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Uncensored story from hell

Even though I slept more than 10 hours last night I am exhausted. I have had several cups of coffee and yet I am exhausted. Not even the shining sun gives enough energy for me to not be exhausted.

My friends met me at the train station yesterday, the walked me to the police office, they waited outside to help me to keep breathing afterwards, they stayed with me the entire day, night and are still here. That’s real friends, they don’t care if you have enough energy to admit that you need them, they know that you need them and with no questions asked, they are there.

The meeting lasted for an hour but it felt like forever. I didn’t make the official police report but I asked all the questions I need to have answer to in order to do it. The next step is to try to write down everything I remember and try to sort the memories according to when they occurred. That will be ,by far, the hardest thing I have done, having to remember everything that I for so many years done everything in my power to forget. There are reasons why I have suppressed them. Until now I have only told the “surronding” story, I havent dealt with any of the actual “abuse and rape” memories. I don’t even know how to deal with them, thinking of them makes me sick. Writing them in words, where will I find the strength to do that? The smells, the feelings, the environment everything that happened, in actual life and in my head. Everything is of importance, I need to tell the story the best as I can because the more I am able to remember and describe, the greater is the chance that he will be convicted for it. Tomorrow I will buy a notebook, I plan to carry it everywhere so when a memory pops up I will catch it and write it down. Part of hell starts now but I think I have to run through hell in order to get out if it. This wont be easy, it wont feel better but I know that in the end far from here it is a necessary step to take in order to reach the end.

Knowing what comes next, telling the real uncensored story, that is what makes me exhausted. Coffee, sleep and sun wont help, just breathing and keep going no matter what will lead me through it, and my friends and family. Hell is exhausting.


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Ultimate confession

I don’t know what to write I just felt a sudden urge to write. There is an explosion of unidentified feelings inside of me.

Stories are meant to be told.

I keep repeating that in my head, convincing my self that the ultimate confession is a necessary step in my process of takin back what has web taken from me.

33 minutes.

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17 hours. 10am tomorrow I will be at the police station.

I am broken.

No words are strong enough to express how I feel. I feel dead inside yet more alive then ever because I feel every breath I take, it’s like breathing razor blades. All I can do is keep breathing and avoid feeling, I can’t feel because the pain is to great.

My friends called me before to let me know that they don’t care if I need them or not. They will be there every step of the way holding me even if I try to break free. Friends like that makes it worth it, worth every razor blade breath. Tears where rolling down my cheeks when she called because with them I can bare to let some of the pain out. Some of the tears where from pure love because I think that the time the phone call lasted is in the top ten moments in my life where I felt the most love.

Thanks to the ones that brings me home when I try to run.

You took out your pain on me and for that I hate you.

And dear sister, if you are reading this. Knowing you know makes it easier. ❤

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Smashed by a truck

Ready to report? So I thought. I just made the call, I called the policeman my therapist had given me the number to. First call was busy, it drained my energy, second call busy to, close to hitting the floor at this point and third call he answered. He was busy for the moment and asked if he could call me back and said I hope I don’t forget and I replied no worries in that case I’ll just try again this afternoon. I know that this call is just another call for him but for me it is a life changing call. I was planning on just making a quick call and set up an appointment I didn’t expect my reaction, I am fighting to breathe. It hit me like a truck hits a car on the highway, it smashed me upside down sideways and rolled me around. Making the call released a tsunami of emotions inside of me, anger, loneliness, feelings of abandonment and in an instant it took me back 10 years. I’m sitting at my kitchen table starring in the wall, I’ve been here for more than an hour unable to move. The little girl inside of me just want someone to hold me, carry me to the bed and say that it is ok to be upset and that they will not let go no matter what.

It’s days like these that even a cold cup of coffee can make me cry. It’s days like these i understand the meaning of fighting. I’m fighting even though it might from the outside look like I am only sitting at my kitchen table. Believe me right now every single breath is a fight.

You ruined me an for that I hate you.

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Charged batteries and ready to report!

It’s been a while since I posted on this blog. Writing here means facing my feelings and the last few weeks I have been putting my feelings off trying to charge my batteries and just being a normal student.¨

After I told my parents it was like if I was drained, I had no energy left. I never thought I would tell them so when I did it took all of what I had to do it. When they knew, my brother and sister and the rest of the most important people in my life knew and I saw my pain in their eyes, I could finally relax for a while. I knew that I wasnt alone anymore and that I would never ever carry this on my own. It has taken me a few weeks to accept that they know and right after I told them I wish I hadn’t because the feeling of never being able to suppress it or ignore it again was terrifying. From this moment no matter how hard it gets the story is told and I can’t act like it never happened. When I started therapy I was afraid that when it got to though I would do like always, flee, ignore and suppress untill it didn’t hurt anymore. I realise that telling my family ment that I can flee when I can’t handle it because I know they will carry the pain for a while, they share it with me and they will help to get through it even when it is so though that it seems impossible to get through. So I think that is what I have done the last few weeks, I have let them carry my pain for a while meanwhile I have charged my batteries.

I will report it to the police. For me that is a huge step and I know that it will break me but its okay because I know that I will never be able to rebuild my ground unless I break down the one I am standing on for the moment. What he did to me was crime, I don’t know if it will ever leed to him being charged for it but at least I can live with it, I did my best. My dad sent me an article from the news paper today, it was about a similar case where the prosecuted actually got charged as guilty and dad wrote -“It is never to late”.  It doesn’t matter that it happened several years ago, I relive it every day so for me it is still a part of my present. The actual rape and abuse is in the past but the memories and the feelings I carry with me all day, every day and every where. For me this isn’t the past and reporting it to the police is a part of the process of making it become my past as well. Reporting it means telling it all, every part of it, having to remember things that I promised myself never to remember and telling things to others that I thought would never cross my lips, secrets so deep Im not sure I can find them within me. Im so scared, Im scared because I know it will hurt so bad that I wonder if it is worth to keep breathing and I am scared that they wont believe what I have to say. I know my family does and I have to remember myself that that is what matters. I am also scared that he will hurt me and even more scared that he will hurt someone I love. I am so scared and all I can to is face it. It is like bungyjumping with a safetyline you dont really know if it will work.

Today I ate, I ate loads, I ate untill I felt sick. I couldnt understand why because I wasnt hungry and then I realised; this is me trying to find other ways of feeling bad rather that facing the real reasons. That is what I have done since the sexual abuse started. Either I eat so I feel sick, drink untill I pass out, sleep with guys I don’t want, slam my fist into the wall and much more.  If I feel disgusted I eat in order to try to blame the feeling of being disgusted by myself on the fact that I ate so much. If I want to forget memories that wont go away I drink until I pass out. If I have to prove to myself that sex means nothing in order to try to normalize the abuse and rape I go out and sleep with someone I don’t want to so that I can justify the feeling of being used and raped. If I hurt to bad, I slam my fist into the wall because physical pain is easier to deal with. I realised my behaviour a few months ago and still I do it but the difference is that I can now forgive myself a lot easier because I understand why I do it and that it actually is okay. It is my way of surviving and in the end that is all that matters, that I survive and make it through it.

I will make it and there is no question about it but god damn it is gonna be a long bumpy road there but one day I will stand there with the greatest smile and not having to punish myself anymore. I will be happy because I realised that I deserve it.

For everything you are I hate you.

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