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.