Tag Archives: aching

Perspective

Perspective. That’s what I got from all of this, perspective on life and all the challenges it brings. Whenever life is tough and tries to knock me down, I remember that as a thirteen year old girl I was strong enough to survive years of mental and sexual abuse. Thinking of the strength I have within me, makes me proud. I know I will survive, whatever life brings me. I know it will be tough, I know that I will be seconds from giving up, I know I will cry, I know it will hurt but I also know that I will survive it. It’s comforting to know that.

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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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You locked me in a cage

There is so much I want to tell and so many feelings that I want to describe but it is like climbing up a hillside covered in soap. I keep trying but I just keep slipping back and it takes several tries before I manage to get somewhere. I want to share my story and I need to share it, because after I finish a post I read it out loud to myself and it is like if it is the first time I ever hear it. It is like I can’t process what I’ve been through and accept my feelings before I have put them in words and read them. It is so unreal and I’ve denied it for so many years that I managed to suppress it to the level where I need to hear it before I can believe it. It is like watching a movie and realising that the movie is about yourself. I don’t cry when I write the posts but I cry when I read them, I cry so much that my entire body shivers.

I suppressed what I’ve been through in order to survive, I couldn’t handle it and I couldn’t deal with it. I fled, not physically but mentally by trying to say that I only had myself to blame, it could be worse and that sex doesn’t mean anything. I learned how to live without emotions because as soon as I started to let myself feel my entire chest ached to the level where I could barely breathe. I kept not feeling even after it stopped, I was afraid that if I let go and started to process it I couldn’t bare what was hidden underneath.

It has been 6 years since the last time he sexually assaulted me and still he is the reason it hurts when I breathe, the reason I am terrified to death to fall in love because that means having sex with emotions and that I can’t do, the reason I fled my hometown and are miles away from my loved ones and the reason to so many other things.

He stole my virginity, I was 13 and he was 29. He was obese, bad teeth, poor hygiene and always with a cigarette between his lips. He was manipulative and he held my in an imaginary cage for 7 years. By imaginary cage I mean that he know what he would say to make sure that I wouldn’t tell and that I would keep showing up when he called. My therapist told me that it is still not to late to report him to the police and I realised when she said that, that I am still terrified of him. His words still echoes in my head. I havent seen him for several years and yet I am scared to death of him. Will this feeling of being terrified of him ever go away?

You held me in an imaginary cage and for that I hate you

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On my way to rock bottom

Last night after I posted on the blog I broke down. I had no energy left in me to fight off the memories and I lied on my bed crying. It felt like suppressed memories attacked me so hard I had to fight just to be able to keep breathing. The memories made me sick.

Today has been one of those days where I just have to accept that I am not ok and that it is ok to stay home. Today I grieve over what I have been through, every breath hurts and my entire body is aching but it is ok because I know I have to grieve before I can move on. I have to hit rock bottom because I need to rebuild my entire foundation before I can heal. It is scary and I am terrified. Life hurts.

You broke my foundation and for that I hate you

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