Tag Archives: breathing

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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17hours

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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Why didn’t you hold me?

I figured out why it hurts when I breath when I go to bed and why I am scared when the lights and the tv is off. I shiver when I know I have to go to sleep, when I know I can’t put it off anymore because no matter how much I don’t want to sleep I know I can’t be without it. I need sleep and as I turn off the lights it feels like someone puts a mountain on top of my chest. I feel trapped. I don’t want to go to sleep because I don’t want it to be tomorrow. That is how it felt during all those years, I didn’t want tomorrow to come. The “safest” moment of the day was when I was tucked in bed and I knew that right there and right then he couldn’t hurt me but as soon as tomorrow came I was unsafe again. Now that I know why I feel this pain when I go to bed it is ok, it is the pain that the little girl suppressed in order to have the energy to make it through. Feelings have to be expressed before you can let them go, so I think that is why I feel this pain now because I have to feel it in order to let it go.

Life is though. I never expected it not to be and yet it keeps surprising me. I had an amazing weekend with the guy I’m seeing. After he left I sat down realising that I am so scared of starting to like him that I am even thinking of ending it instead of daring to see what happens. The intimacy brings up so many feeling, feeling safe and loved reminds me of how it feels to feel that your not. How it feels to really need it when no one is there to give it. He gave me one of those hugs where you really feel liked and safe and I had to put all my energy in to not crying. It was like a button was pushed and I felt so vulnerable. I realise how little it takes to tear down the wall that I have created between me and my inner feelings. I just wanted to cry in his arms, him telling me that it will be ok. I know that it is not his arms that I really need, or I do today I do but I mean that his arms reminds me of how much I longed for that hug during the years with the sexual assault. When I was lying there in my bed scared of life and not wanting tomorrow to arrive I needed someone to hold me like that. His hug just reminded me of the anger and the pain I feel that no one saw what was happening because if someone would have seen it maybe someone would have hold me. I’m so so scared but I think I really like this guy and I want to see what happens. But who will catch me if I fall? He makes me smile and I think I have not appreciated a thing like that before and now I am realising that that is one of the most
Important things. So please help me if I try to back out and take the easy way out and remind me of that life is not worth anything of you don’t dare to live it. So life, bring it on!

You hurt me so bad that I’m afraid of falling in love and for that I hate you!

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Tears rolling down my cheeks

I hate this part of the day when I’m in bed and I’ve turned off the lights. I have nothing that distracts me from my thoughts and feelings. I don’t know what just hit me but it feels someone just put an enormous stone on my chest. The stone is so heavy that I have to fight for every breath. I know I won’t stop breathing but it feels like I have to fight for every breath. Memories are attacking me because they know I’m weak at this hour of the day. I get affected and I can’t fight them. I just have to watch them as tears are rolling down my cheeks. I knew this would happen but at least I had one good weekend without the pain and the memories.

I don’t want to go to sleep, I’m scared of what I might dream. I wish someone would hold me right now and tell me that it is ok to be scared and that it is ok to cry when you are hurting. The problem is I haven’t shared my story with the ones I would need the most, my family. I’m 26 and still I wish that my mum would hold me and tell me that I will be ok. But how can I ever tell this to my parents and at the same time how can I not?

Tears keep rolling down my cheeks. I am not ok. I am scared and all I can do is keep trying even when it hurts the most.

I can’t go to sleep on my own without tears rolling down my cheeks and for that I hate you.

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It was not my fault

I get this urge to tell my story to the world sometimes but as soon as I open my mouth I can’t to get a single word out. I get scared. I’m scared that it will make people judge me. I blamed myself for so many years, that scarred me, and I am afraid that when I tell my story people will say that it is partly my fault. Rape victims blame their self sometimes just because they didn’t scream or fight back, they don’t realise that that was their best shot at surviving. I never screamed, I didn’t fight but I did everything just to survive. Every morning I got up, I lived through it even when it was impossible. All my strength went to just surviving, I had no strength left to fight it. I learned to live with it. When I look back I wish that I would have screamed as loud as I could until my lungs bursted. It’s hard to live with the fact that I did not fight back, my therapist says that it is a surviving mechanism to enter auto mode when something like this happens to you. I’m trying to forgive myself for not fighting but it is really hard. I am so hurt and trying to deal with it and taking my life back brings back all memories.

For years I’ve denied and suppressed it, I did everything to try to find other explanations to what I’ve been through. I had sex with people I didn’t want to have it with just to relive the feeling of disgust and angst, because if I felt like that after sex maybe what happened to me wasn’t as bad as I was afraid it was? It didn’t help at all, it made it worse and made me want to crawl out of my skin. He has affected every moment of my life since the day he stole my virginity. First I lived with the sexual abuse, threats and manipulation for 6 years, when it finally came to an end I had to live with what I had been through. I had never said a word and until a year ago I had never said it when being sober. It wasn’t my fault and yet it made me feel ashamed of what I’ve been trough and i just couldn’t tell. It has created a wall between me and my family, they don’t understand why I have reacted and behaved as I have when growing up. I dont blame them even if I wish that they had seen that something was wrong. I think something’s that i did as a teenager was a silent cry for help, a whisper of see me see me save me!. But they didn’t and I did not scream either. I hope that I one day will find the courage to tell, I want them to know and I think I need them to know. I’m terrified that they will blame their self if and when I tell them. But if they don’t know my story they will never really know me and I owe them that because they are great parents. The fact that they were going through a divorce at the time matters, I don’t blame them for not seeing me when they were hurting so much for breaking up our family. It wasn’t their fault they didn’t see me and yet a part of me is so angry with them that I’m shivering.How could they not see me?

You made me blame myself and for that I hate you

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No matter how many breaths I take

Even in the moments where I am truly happy you’re there with you’re presence reminding me of how black life can be. Like a shadow I can’t outrun no matter how far I run, the world is not big enough. I fight you every moment of my life, you hurt me so bad that some days it is even a struggle to keep breathing. Those days all I can think is “just breathe”

You stole my will to breathe and for that I hate you

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