The rain is pissing down, the summer heat is no where near and it feels like a fat cow is standing on my chest. Do you understand why I have trouble motivating myself to get out of bed? The train departs in 51 one minutes, I better get it together ASAP. I know, it will get better.
The only good thing with having a bad start is that the day can only get better from here, fingers crossed.
I even blame the poor summer weather on you and for that I hate you.
Emotionally screwed up. I’m sick of my feelings not acting in a rational way, they can’t handle the slightest rejection and they hurt unreasonably much. I try to talk with them, understand them and figure out where they belong. I guess I have to accept that I am emotionally handicapped. They make my life complicated, normal everyday situations can for me be a “mountain to climb“. I want to be just me, right here, right now enjoying life but I don’t know how. They control me and make sure that I screw things up. It’s 4 pm, Sunday afternoon and I just want this day to end. I’m gonna go to bed, try to sleep this day out. They say life gets easier, time heals, wounds close and scars fade and I guess that I’ll just have to live through it and hope they know what they’re talking about. Fuck this day.
How am I suppose to handle the obstacles life puts in front of me when I have to use all my energy to leave the old ones behind?
I’m emotionally screwed up and for that I hate you.
When I finally went to bed last night I decided that no alarm clock should be set, I treated myself with the luxury of sleep. The past week I’ve barely slept at all, about five hours a night. When I’m in a “fight to breath” period I avoid going to bed because the worst part of the day is laying there and trying to fall a sleep. Everything feels ten times worse right before going to sleep so I don’t go to bed unless I’m so tired I’m about to fall asleep standing up.
I woke up 11.20 am after 9 hours of anxious sleep but still 9 hours of sleep. Today has been a far better day then yesterday, I know I have all this anger and energy inside me so before it took control over me I went for a run. I decided to control it instead of it controlling me. I’m fighting!
In bed, alarm sets off in 6 hours. Back to reality.
You almost made me give up on life several times and for that I hate you
I’m sitting on my kitchen floor, crying. I’m surviving, I’m breathing, I’m healing and I’m hurting. I’m far from okey and worse then I’ve been in a while but I feel a fighting spirit within me that I haven’t felt before.
There are different phases of healing from a trauma and tonight I hit the anger phase. I want to scream! Kick! Hit! Run! I am so fucking angry! I did not chose this to be a part of my life and yet I am the one who has to live with all the damages it caused me.
Who gave him the right to rape me?
Who gave him the right to sexually abuse me?
Who the fuck does he think he is? I feel pure hate.
But this is my life, this is a part of my history no matter if I chose it to be or not. I have to find a way to live with it. I have to grieve over the fact that it happened, I have to find a way to accept that it has happened and that no matter what I do it will always be a part of my life. I need to be angry. I need to be sad and I need to feel everything I need to feel. First of all I need to find the courage to feel at all, asking my heart how it feels is terrifying.
How am I really feeling today according to my heart?
Really really scared, alone, hurt and angry.
I am scarred for life and for that I hate you.
My therapist asked me if I wrote a diary during the years with the assault. I asked my mum if she could go through my old stuff and see if it was there, and it was. I have had it for a few days now. Today I took it out from the bag. The first post is written in november of 2001, the year I turned 15 and at that time the abuse had been going on for more than 2 years. I bought a blank notebook and on the front page I have a photo of myself, I teared it up before gluing it on. The text on it is written with newspaper letters, it’s all black and white, no colors to light it up and just from looking at it you can tell that I was not ok. The text on the front sais:
“This little girl wants to leave, but where would she go?”
” I say NO!”
“Don’t feel sorry for me”
“Why is everybody against me?”
I stared at it for at least an hour before I found the courage to open it, I honestly had no clue what I would find in it. It is about 80 pages written during 2001-2005. I read it. I hadn’t written a single word about the abuse, the sexual assault and the rapes but if you read between the lines it is obvious there is an underlying story wanting to be told.
At 16 I had written:
“I got discipline, because I laugh when all I want to do is cry”
“I cried a river but havent shared a single tear, soon I will drown in uncried tears.”
“I’m emotional disabled, maybe have I during my 16 year-long life got the wrong idea of what love is”
I know that I need to write down everything that happened but I don’t know where and how to start. Its like climbing a mountain blindfolded and with a broken leg. Today I opened a document and saved it, I havent written anything in it yet but just saving a document is a great step for me. I will get it done, I want to but it’s going to take time because this is no easy story to tell.
You gave me a story to tell, a story no one should have to tell and for that I hate you,
And for that I hate you 