Today I feel like crap.
Worthlesss.
But I am running to God.
I have a huge test I have to study for and so many assignments I need to do and things I am not doing the best of my ability because my brain won't let me focus. Why does Satan attack now! Why when I need to get thigns done. I should be studying Geology right now but instead I have to just cry and pray and read the bible and memorize and worship just so I can get through another moment of the day. If I am not under his wings than how can I move on.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Discovering Me... But it's not even close to about me
Tonight... there is turmoil.
Today has been a very inspiring and educational night for me. But I have missed out on the oppurtunity to help two close friends today. Two friends who were having a rough day.
You see, I have no problem helping people with problems, people who have some sort of an issue. People who confront it and ask for help. But then again the people who slink in the corner, I love with all my heart, but honestly, I just want them to confront what they feel. I want to slap them into realization. I want to see tears, hear screams, because I know from expeirience that feeling is WAY better than not feeling.
And now I feel like shit.
Cause my roomate just said that all she wanted was someone to hug and cry with. And honestly... I would give her a hug, but I don't touch unless you ask. But I can't cry with people. I will sit with you while you cry, I'll be here, but I can't cry too. I care, but...
Just another thing I can't make better.
Trying to love someone else just hurts.
But I can't have a casual friendship with her because she doesn't do those well.
It's all in or all out, but what happens when she won't let me in.
I just want to stop caring. Go do something stupid to make up for it.
Cause caring hurts.
And Ned just played a song about how much better life is on drugs. Way to have good timing Ned.
And I was just starting to actually like myself again. But the only time I feel free and like me is when I am dancing, surrounded by loud music, and lost.
Today has been a very inspiring and educational night for me. But I have missed out on the oppurtunity to help two close friends today. Two friends who were having a rough day.
You see, I have no problem helping people with problems, people who have some sort of an issue. People who confront it and ask for help. But then again the people who slink in the corner, I love with all my heart, but honestly, I just want them to confront what they feel. I want to slap them into realization. I want to see tears, hear screams, because I know from expeirience that feeling is WAY better than not feeling.
And now I feel like shit.
Cause my roomate just said that all she wanted was someone to hug and cry with. And honestly... I would give her a hug, but I don't touch unless you ask. But I can't cry with people. I will sit with you while you cry, I'll be here, but I can't cry too. I care, but...
Just another thing I can't make better.
Trying to love someone else just hurts.
But I can't have a casual friendship with her because she doesn't do those well.
It's all in or all out, but what happens when she won't let me in.
I just want to stop caring. Go do something stupid to make up for it.
Cause caring hurts.
And Ned just played a song about how much better life is on drugs. Way to have good timing Ned.
And I was just starting to actually like myself again. But the only time I feel free and like me is when I am dancing, surrounded by loud music, and lost.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Fear...again
So today I honestly failed at not being alone and not thinking about me. But I think that it might have been for the better. You see I have been hiding a LOT a feelings for a long time by simply ignoring them. But my last counseling session brough up some bitter feelings and ended up being cut short so I've been kind of hanging. You see, I have formed my entire life around the reality of sexual abuse. And I have come to realize that many of my mannerisms stem from this. The one I have realized most with this is my physical appearance.
When I was young (when the bulk of the abuse happened) I began to make myself look as possibly unattractive as possible. I tried to put on weight (and succeeded for about 50 pounds), I dressed like a boy, I did my hair like a boy and tried to be the furthest thing that anyone would want. I didn't like people touching me at all. About halfway through high school I realized that this was a completely socially unacceptable way to live my life, so I chose the opposite path, you can't hurt me if I let you. I lost weight (about 30 pounds), and started dressing and doing my hair as an attractive female. I would dress as immodestly as I could get away with, having the family and background I did. I disasociated meaning from all touch and pretty much allowed anything. I realized the true gravity of the situation when I took a wonderful guy friend who I was kind of dating out onto a dark back road and insisted that we stop and look at the stars. Lying down on the ground and encouraging him to come snuggle with me was very suggestive and inappropriate but I did it anyway. I now realize that this was because I was afraid he was going to hurt me and I figured you can't hurt me if I let you. I can only praise God for the outstanding level of moral integrity this young man has because he refused to even sit on the ground but stayed standing, simply talking to me while looking away from me and up to the stars.
Why has this become so important now? Because about a week ago I became afraid again. Begining to get defensive about touch, ect. And today I even found myself taking a turn for the worse instead of eating to lose weight, like I had been, I was eating to gain weight. Purposely trying to make myself as ugly as possible so that no one would go near me. Neither of these ways are healthy and I need to figure out what to do.
I was reading through a counseling book about this and couldn't find my notebook so I figured I'd make some notes about what I thought about it here.
* In the begining it talked about you being a victim. But honestly, while I feel hurt and such I feel like I deserved it. I know that might be crazy but I could have said no more. I could have fought harder. I could have not chosen to be at that house at that time. I could have screamed more, yelled more, ect.
* It talks about feelings you might have and I have pretty much all of them. Life has been numb forever, I am afraid of pretty much every guy I meet for an extensive period of time. I try to hide it but there are VERY few men I am not afraid of. Every so often worry about STDs comes back up. Could I be dying and just not know it? I get angry sometiems but often time the anger just reflects back on me. My relationships go crazy. There are nightmares and flashbacks, Depression has happened ever since. I mean this is why I first attempted suicide. And I think I have just defered the pain for so long that stress of any type throws me over the edge.
I don't want to face it. I don't know how to face it. It is almost midnight and PTSD is coming in and there is no one I can run to, except Jesus. Pray that Jesus will give me the strength to move on.
When I was young (when the bulk of the abuse happened) I began to make myself look as possibly unattractive as possible. I tried to put on weight (and succeeded for about 50 pounds), I dressed like a boy, I did my hair like a boy and tried to be the furthest thing that anyone would want. I didn't like people touching me at all. About halfway through high school I realized that this was a completely socially unacceptable way to live my life, so I chose the opposite path, you can't hurt me if I let you. I lost weight (about 30 pounds), and started dressing and doing my hair as an attractive female. I would dress as immodestly as I could get away with, having the family and background I did. I disasociated meaning from all touch and pretty much allowed anything. I realized the true gravity of the situation when I took a wonderful guy friend who I was kind of dating out onto a dark back road and insisted that we stop and look at the stars. Lying down on the ground and encouraging him to come snuggle with me was very suggestive and inappropriate but I did it anyway. I now realize that this was because I was afraid he was going to hurt me and I figured you can't hurt me if I let you. I can only praise God for the outstanding level of moral integrity this young man has because he refused to even sit on the ground but stayed standing, simply talking to me while looking away from me and up to the stars.
Why has this become so important now? Because about a week ago I became afraid again. Begining to get defensive about touch, ect. And today I even found myself taking a turn for the worse instead of eating to lose weight, like I had been, I was eating to gain weight. Purposely trying to make myself as ugly as possible so that no one would go near me. Neither of these ways are healthy and I need to figure out what to do.
I was reading through a counseling book about this and couldn't find my notebook so I figured I'd make some notes about what I thought about it here.
* In the begining it talked about you being a victim. But honestly, while I feel hurt and such I feel like I deserved it. I know that might be crazy but I could have said no more. I could have fought harder. I could have not chosen to be at that house at that time. I could have screamed more, yelled more, ect.
* It talks about feelings you might have and I have pretty much all of them. Life has been numb forever, I am afraid of pretty much every guy I meet for an extensive period of time. I try to hide it but there are VERY few men I am not afraid of. Every so often worry about STDs comes back up. Could I be dying and just not know it? I get angry sometiems but often time the anger just reflects back on me. My relationships go crazy. There are nightmares and flashbacks, Depression has happened ever since. I mean this is why I first attempted suicide. And I think I have just defered the pain for so long that stress of any type throws me over the edge.
I don't want to face it. I don't know how to face it. It is almost midnight and PTSD is coming in and there is no one I can run to, except Jesus. Pray that Jesus will give me the strength to move on.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Epiphany
Honestly... I don't love much. I try my hardest not to feel. It's easier that way. If I don't get super attached to people then it doesn't hurt. But when I do love I love stronger than anyone you have ever seen. And when I do love, it hurts me more than anything to see you hurt.
I realized this today when we were talking about when we found out your mom had cancer. I knew a little bit before you did. I cried before you did. But we both found out 100% together. I saw how much crap the community put on you. I saw how hard you were working, I saw how fast you had to grow up. I saw it all. I cared about it all. It broke my heart. Not only was a woman I would come to love more than any aunt dying of cancer, but seeing your heart break hurt mine in more ways imaginable.
I did everything I could to fix things. I spent every waking moment of my life wondering how I could make things better for you. I still do sometimes. I just wanted to make your life better. I would still do anything if I knew it would help you. But at the same time there was so much stress in my own house. My grandpa was being mean to my daddy and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't handle it. I had to be the perfect child, the perfect friend, but mostly I could stand seeing the people that I love so much in so much pain. So I started drinking to control the pain. I can remember the first day I started drinking. It was before your mom even got cancer. But she was sick, your family was fighting constantly, and seeing you try to grow up and be the man hurt so bad. I hated seeing some I cared about so much be so torn up inside. You had to miss chior rehersal that day because you needed to go home and watch Jarrod while your mom was at the doctors. I know how much you were going through and I had no idea how to deal with it. So I drank. It was It made my life a little easier, until you found out. But even then it took your mind off some of the crap. I kept things up because not only did it help me but it was me trying to take your mind off of things.
I don't know quite why I turned to cutting. I think I just got mad at myself for drinking. I got mad at myself. What started out as just trying to deal with life turned into an ugly addiction. It was April 1st when I started. At first it was just an easy way to release emotion and pain and move on with life. Things were so stressful that I didn't know what to do. When we finally found out that your mom had cancer things didn't get any easier. I can remember my heart being torn in two. I can painfully recall each day and how hard things got. April 16th is the perfect example of a day like that. Cutting just came naturally. I didn't know how to deal with the stress and it just came. It was my way of getting over the fact that I wasn't perfect and couldn't make it better.
I guess over time I just began to hate myself. Satan began to move in. He used my stress coping mechanism to turn into a form of just hating myself. Hating myself so much it just wasn't worth living. It was a long downward spiral that spun me out of control. Still sometimes I wonder why I am not good enough for people. I try to be perfect, I try to solve problems, but sometiems I just can't do it. That's why I try to keep myself from forming close relationships with people. Because if I don't love you, you can't hurt me. I can't fail you. And my heart can't take failing many more people.
And that's my trigger. It's not that I feel worthless, all though that does play in to the depression. But when I feel worthless or inadequite I just want to lie in bed forever or that's when the food thing comes in. Those are my long term solutions. The addictions with drinking and cutting come as a stress reliever. Whenever things get super stressful and I can't fix everything I cut. Which then makes me feel worthless. Which is where the cycle is.
But I praise God for what I've gone through and I hope that I can learn to cope with the stress because honestly... I'm not leaving you, ever. I am in for hurt and pain and everything because I love you all and can't imagine my life without you. And even if i'm not good enough to be anything more than a friend to you, I'm not leaving.
I realized this today when we were talking about when we found out your mom had cancer. I knew a little bit before you did. I cried before you did. But we both found out 100% together. I saw how much crap the community put on you. I saw how hard you were working, I saw how fast you had to grow up. I saw it all. I cared about it all. It broke my heart. Not only was a woman I would come to love more than any aunt dying of cancer, but seeing your heart break hurt mine in more ways imaginable.
I did everything I could to fix things. I spent every waking moment of my life wondering how I could make things better for you. I still do sometimes. I just wanted to make your life better. I would still do anything if I knew it would help you. But at the same time there was so much stress in my own house. My grandpa was being mean to my daddy and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't handle it. I had to be the perfect child, the perfect friend, but mostly I could stand seeing the people that I love so much in so much pain. So I started drinking to control the pain. I can remember the first day I started drinking. It was before your mom even got cancer. But she was sick, your family was fighting constantly, and seeing you try to grow up and be the man hurt so bad. I hated seeing some I cared about so much be so torn up inside. You had to miss chior rehersal that day because you needed to go home and watch Jarrod while your mom was at the doctors. I know how much you were going through and I had no idea how to deal with it. So I drank. It was It made my life a little easier, until you found out. But even then it took your mind off some of the crap. I kept things up because not only did it help me but it was me trying to take your mind off of things.
I don't know quite why I turned to cutting. I think I just got mad at myself for drinking. I got mad at myself. What started out as just trying to deal with life turned into an ugly addiction. It was April 1st when I started. At first it was just an easy way to release emotion and pain and move on with life. Things were so stressful that I didn't know what to do. When we finally found out that your mom had cancer things didn't get any easier. I can remember my heart being torn in two. I can painfully recall each day and how hard things got. April 16th is the perfect example of a day like that. Cutting just came naturally. I didn't know how to deal with the stress and it just came. It was my way of getting over the fact that I wasn't perfect and couldn't make it better.
I guess over time I just began to hate myself. Satan began to move in. He used my stress coping mechanism to turn into a form of just hating myself. Hating myself so much it just wasn't worth living. It was a long downward spiral that spun me out of control. Still sometimes I wonder why I am not good enough for people. I try to be perfect, I try to solve problems, but sometiems I just can't do it. That's why I try to keep myself from forming close relationships with people. Because if I don't love you, you can't hurt me. I can't fail you. And my heart can't take failing many more people.
And that's my trigger. It's not that I feel worthless, all though that does play in to the depression. But when I feel worthless or inadequite I just want to lie in bed forever or that's when the food thing comes in. Those are my long term solutions. The addictions with drinking and cutting come as a stress reliever. Whenever things get super stressful and I can't fix everything I cut. Which then makes me feel worthless. Which is where the cycle is.
But I praise God for what I've gone through and I hope that I can learn to cope with the stress because honestly... I'm not leaving you, ever. I am in for hurt and pain and everything because I love you all and can't imagine my life without you. And even if i'm not good enough to be anything more than a friend to you, I'm not leaving.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Shaking
When you came into the kitchen last night and just hugged me cause you said I looked like I needed it, it meant everything to me. I could just drown in your arms, your sweet smell and warm embrace. You asked me if I was ok, I said sure. You just told me that that doesn't mean yes. But I walked away. You didn't leave me but you didn't press anything. On the ride home you felt almost guilty telling me that you weren't sure how much longer you were going to stick around. And I felt terrible because for some reason I am madly in love but I know that this isn't a good time or a good plan for us to be together. But I don't honestly know if I can live without you. But I am willing to try for the good of both of us.
Today I am shaking. I have been shaking violently for about an hour now. A couple people have asked me if I was ok and have told me to go eat something but I am not going to. I don't want to. But I am through with reaching out for help. I am so tired of making all of you guilty. You don't need to be worrying about me. I'm not honestly worth worrying about. I am not going to eat today, or tomorrow, or anytime soon.
I have a purpose but I can't reach it.
Today I am shaking. I have been shaking violently for about an hour now. A couple people have asked me if I was ok and have told me to go eat something but I am not going to. I don't want to. But I am through with reaching out for help. I am so tired of making all of you guilty. You don't need to be worrying about me. I'm not honestly worth worrying about. I am not going to eat today, or tomorrow, or anytime soon.
I have a purpose but I can't reach it.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Haunting
I miss you. I never even had you. I hadn't even thought about you in a long time. Since around freshman year of high school. But now you continue to haunt my dreams. I don't know what to do. I couldn't have had you. And I know it was in God's plan for you to be taken away. But I can't help but to imagine who you could have been. Who you would have been had I not prayed for you to be taken away. The light you could have been. I just miss you. I despretly want to be able to draw so I could draw you. I pray one day I can meet you in heaven.
Monday, January 10, 2011
I had a dream
Last night I had a dream. There was a young girl of about 5 standing next to me. She had honey brown curly hair. I can't remember any other features about her. She answered to the name of Emma. She gently touched my hand and called up to me. "Mommy" her soft voice carried up just like a sweet and simple wind. I had a child. She was sweet and adorable. And I had changed my life for her.
Why is this such a big deal? Everyone occasionally has dreams where they have kids. But this one is different. A little less than six years ago I was pregnant. Or atleast I think I was. I was too young and scared to know for sure. I had just been raped and it was the second month I had missed my period for. I was so scared. I had made a plan to as soon as possible go to my local planned parenthood and abort the baby. I HAD to make it all disapear. I prayed every night until then that God would take that baby away from me. And thankfully, He did.
I have no idea why and can barely recall what happened, but I miscarried the baby. Since then I have occasionally thought, "What if God hadn't taken her from me?" I have imagined my life with a child but I know the reality. I would have killed that child if God hadn't. Somedays I feel guitly about praying for the death of a child. Some days I just can't take what could have been. This dream let me see her, grown and I guess in a better place with God's timing. But it still scared me and I have no one to tell. No one can know.
Why is this such a big deal? Everyone occasionally has dreams where they have kids. But this one is different. A little less than six years ago I was pregnant. Or atleast I think I was. I was too young and scared to know for sure. I had just been raped and it was the second month I had missed my period for. I was so scared. I had made a plan to as soon as possible go to my local planned parenthood and abort the baby. I HAD to make it all disapear. I prayed every night until then that God would take that baby away from me. And thankfully, He did.
I have no idea why and can barely recall what happened, but I miscarried the baby. Since then I have occasionally thought, "What if God hadn't taken her from me?" I have imagined my life with a child but I know the reality. I would have killed that child if God hadn't. Somedays I feel guitly about praying for the death of a child. Some days I just can't take what could have been. This dream let me see her, grown and I guess in a better place with God's timing. But it still scared me and I have no one to tell. No one can know.
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