Poetic Sadness

Jan. 3, 2018 2 a.m.

Dreaming Wide Awake

The street light danced on my skin through the blinds

Image Credit: ymafreedompost.org

His hand caressing at my tinder small thighs

I peered through my eyes afraid to move

Felt as though I could almost puke

He rubbed my tiny chest as if it were his own

I felt so afraid, I never felt more alone

With hands like a nail file and eyes like a snake

I’d hoped I was dreaming; surely I would awake

As hard as I tried to call out for help

not a peep, no sound would come from my mouth

He noticed I had awoken, it wasn’t a dream

He ran like a coward and hid from me

I was never the same and never will be

All because a boy took what once belonged to me.

Image Credit: weheartit.com

Unscrupulous Sickness

Manipulative monster with your eyes so glazed

You must have been in quite a haze

Manipulative monster your stench so strong

How could I not know what you did was so wrong

Manipulative monster had me under your thumb

Drink up big man, you’re so fucking dumb

Manipulative monster with fingers like knives

You could cut through me, but not the lies

Manipulative monster “you’re special” you say

I never stood a chance at getting away

Manipulative monster your kiss burns like a fire

You burnt me straight down to my very last wire

Manipulative monster your voice haunts my dreams

I awoke for quite a while to my very own screams

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Manipulative monster forever banished and strayed

I hope that you now will wither away

Manipulative monster you can’t hurt me now

I see you so clearly you look like a clown

Manipulative monster “Our secret” no more

It’s time that I end this very war

Manipulative monster say what you will

But these memories are something that you cannot steal

Manipulative monster I hope you sleep well at night

You’re not even worth me putting up a fight

Manipulative monster one day you’ll roll in your grave

When I speak up so loud of how I was your little slave

Manipulative monster you make me so very sick

I hope nobody deals with you again, you fucking prick.

Self-Medicating

Nov. 10, 2017 2:30 p.m.

As I sat with some friends yesterday in one of my favorite local watering holes we shared thoughts on a few important matters. You know, normal stuff like stereotypes, gender roles, different types of assault, equality, sexuality, and even drug abuse. That’s right! A drug abuse discussion inside a bar. Ironic I know! 

Now I’m not saying we’re all victims of alcohol abuse. However, we certainly are not speaking about the concerns it places many of us. This conversation is one which is immensely in need of being had in todays society. It’s almost been a century since prohibition began and frankly I’m starting to wonder if maybe those activists weren't on to something after all.

(Image Credit: Collective-evolution)

Day in and day out we hear about people who ran into alcohol related trouble. Suzie Q blamed Joe Blow for taking advantage of her after they went out and got “smashed” one night. Cole got busted over the face with a beer bottle inside so and so's bar. Betty crashed her car into 3 parked cars after joining her friends in the ever so popular bar crawl. Thankfully she didn’t kill anyone-- this time. Why aren’t we stating the real problem in these situations?

Us. We are the problem. We are chugging poison daily and stating that we are “socializing” or getting out of the house. I totally get it. As a bartender of over a decade I completely understand the want to go out, catch up with friends and enjoy a delicious adult beverage. What I don’t get is that we are completely enabling our peers who do have a problem with this and nobody is speaking out on the issue. 

(Image Credit: Uprightrealestate)

If you have a friend that is constantly contemplating suicide, popping pills, overtly searching for their next sexual encounter, or endlessly depressed, perhaps you are helping enable someone. Does this make you a bad friend? No! That is not at all the point, but take notice, speak up, extend a helping hand. Teach your friends that self care is far more important than numbing the pain each night, waking up with the same hangover each morning and repeatedly self harming in order to escape the hurtful past memories that continue to linger.

For me, I know this routine far too well. In 2012 I moved away from everything I knew. The town I grew up in, the place I worked for many years, the amazing friend group I confided in, my long term relationship, my family; anything familiar I separated myself from. At that moment moving was the scariest thing I had ever done in my life. Little did I know that was just the first beginning of finding the real me. The once fearless young girl who could conquer anything and who would one day be a no nonsense powerhouse to reckon with slowly withered away little by little and what I found was not what I had imagined at all, but much more. I simply found my truth, my voice.

To be quite honest, college was a complete blur for me. I have no idea how I functioned waking up every morning after endlessly drinking myself to sleep each night. I always managed to make it to class although my mental state was never fully aware. I would jot notes and half ass pay attention then jet off to the closest bar for lunch and a bloody in-between my class breaks. It didn’t ever seem unstable to me. It was like groundhogs day, day in and day out; just school, booze, work, booze, sleep, repeat. Nobody ever mentioned me having a real problem though I can’t blame them. I would be scared as hell to tell myself that back then. The self medication I relied on was not just harming myself, it was hurting others as well. As I grew more and more dependent of alcohol I found myself less and less aware of the real problems I had repressed.

(Image credit: Stepaway.co.za/Alcoholism-Addiction-Treatment)

Codependency between our society and alcohol is so extreme that even we don’t often notice our own issues anymore. We don’t know that Suzie Q was viciously raped by a group of boys on the football team in high school; therefore, she seeks out men subconsciously every night at the bar only to awake each day feeling the same shame, regret and past torment she did the day before. We don’t realize that Cole is secretly gay and has been belittling others to deal with the pain that never subsided after growing up with his macho father bullying him his entire life. Betty never even noticed she was reckless because all she wanted was to fit in and be like all the other girls even though she often felt like she was not a girl at all.

You see, the point is that everyone has underlying issues. Some big, some small but no matter what we will never grow as individuals if we continue on the same vicious cycle of self medicating; numbing the pain. Alcohol is never going to inform you of your problems. It may momentarily ease you of your pain but for how long? How long will we continuously allow society to drown the problems in which we should face? Talk about it! Help be apart of the solution. Only we can save us.

Me. Too.

Oct. 15, 2017 7:30 p.m.

(Image credit: thehumanmagazine.org)

I've noticed the flood of “me too” posts on my Facebook today and it really had me feeling some type of way. Like, fucking WOW! Seriously? So many people have been effected. I am not alone. 

First off I felt really sad all day. It was gloomy so I decided to do what any obsessed dog loving fool would do. Go to the dog park. I thought it would make me feel better and cheer me up seeing some pups, but it really didn’t. 

 Life is ironic like that. In good company I've felt alone and sad all day but now sitting here alone in complete silence suddenly I don’t feel so alone. All because the mass amount of “me too” posts. It’s crazy to think, but just two little words have created a connection, a common denominator if you will. I’m just so glad to see people speaking up in order to positively ban together!

I’ve felt so many emotions come and go recently all at once or even all compiled into a huge ball of complete madness. Documenting my emotion is a whirl wind of mind fucks. I’m constantly analyzing myself and judging myself. Always apologizing and feeling at fault, guilty or in the wrong. I know I’m not the only one who is too hard on themselves. Nobody is perfect though.

Maybe I should just take a step back and breathe. Look around and smile at the faces that are also in pain. Compare stories and stop judging. Hug and love. Get back to the basics of human existence, companionship. Let’s just be. I want others to know that I stand with you in this and if anyone ever wants to talk I always have an open ear and purposeful hug available. Peace and love to each of you. Life gets hard no matter what, but never forget to love yourself.

Relentless Pain

Oct. 12, 2017 1 p.m.

Sometimes I awake to an overwhelming sadness. I aspire to wake up happy and not absolutely devastated and sad soon though. Apparently curling up in my bed and disappearing for a while isn’t actually an option; however, getting in my car and driving far away actually sounds amazing. If only running from my problems would stop the pain, I would.

Self-doubt is an understatement. I can’t even imagine getting through all the pain I still must endure to see an end in sight. My heart feels like it’s been ripped from my chest. Will I ever value my self-worth? Can I ever trust? I feel like I’m stuck in a sick, twisted, blatantly fucked up Groundhogs day. Like I’ll never move forward. Maybe I'm just a speck of dust stuck in a torturous moment of time. 

(Image credit: insiderfinancial.com)

As I lay in bed I contemplate going outside, but the sight of the sun makes me cringe. The air I breathe makes me cough. I’m suffocating in my own hell. What did I do to deserve this pain? Will it ever go away? I just want it to go away. Please go away. I didn’t want these things to happen to me. I was just a child. I still feel like I’m that baby being told I’m a bad girl. That it’s all my fault. Our secret. 

The tears on my cheeks feel like fire dripping down my soaked face. I try to wipe them away, but they relentlessly pour down with no end in sight. I try to be tough, but I can’t muster the courage to get out of this bed. Soon I’ll have to though. 

I’ll have to go pretend I’m the happy little spit fire I regularly act like. Fake it until you make it they say. Fuck them! Nobody knows my demons. No matter how much anyone thinks they know how I feel, they don’t. Betrayal is my middle name, along with sadness and guilt. I should wear “Lost Cause” as a name tag because that’s what I am.

Alarm sounds again. Again. Again. Again. To dissipate or descend? No way up or out it seems so I guess I’ll wipe my tears and pretend to pretend again.

Diagnosed

Sept. 6, 2017 7 p.m.

Today has been utterly draining and terrifying for me. It is the day I finally chose to seek psychological help. Diagnoses: PTSD, which if you don't know, is a "mental health problem that some people develop after experiencing or witnessing a life-threatening event, like combat, a natural disaster, a car accident, or sexual assault."

I am not making this post/blog for attention or sympathy, but to simply share my story and tell others that have been through the same experiences that YOU ARE NOT ALONE!!! As a child I was sexually abused numerous times which in turn has caused me to suppress these memories as an adult almost entirely... until now. I am currently on the pathway to recovery and working on mending the parts of me that were ripped away during my innocence. 

        (Image credit: fireemsleaderpro)

Abuse is something nobody should have to go through; however, if you or someone you know have experienced abuse, please don't feel ashamed because you are THE VICTIM and it is NOT your fault. I have lived with shame since I was a very young child and all that has done is make me an angry person. Today I vow to choose my own path, determine my own future and find the happiness I deserve by speaking MY TRUTH. 

If you or someone you know is living with PTSD and need someone to speak to please reach out. Post traumatic stress disorder is a serious mental illness that can control your entire life. Don't wait like I have, please get help. IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT.IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT.IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT.... #ptsd #abuse #sexualabuse

Incomplete Thoughts

Oct 5, 2017 2 a.m.

 From the beginning of time I've thought that I was special. I never understood why I felt this way. Was it confidence or maybe lack of? Was I just self-absorbed or just feel like I had a purpose? To be honest I’m still confused with why I feel the way I do. Like I can feel people’s pain; look into their eyes and ease their troubles.

In counseling I’m beginning to see my own pain more clearly. Which is probably the reason I can spot others so easily. I’ve been filled with pain before I knew any other emotion. Sadness and confusion have now turned into emptiness and shame. Never knowing or feeling good enough. Always wondering why I deserve happiness. However, instead of helping others for now I’m deciding to take the selfish road and focus on my pain, my needs, my life.

Throughout this process I want to be as honest and straight forward with the memories and feelings I have surpassed, retained, and lingered everyday in the depths of my soul. Some things I remember may or may not be completely 100% and that is okay because what I recall is how it made me feel and has affected me as the woman I am today.

(Image Credit: Naukrinama)

At a very young age I discovered sex. I remember my parents having full out penetrative sex. I mean it wasn’t anything I would consider wild as an adult, but for a child it was horrific. I remember peaking from under my closed eyelids and wondering what they were doing. Was mom happy? Why was she screaming? Was dad hurting her? 

Now I can’t recall years or ages because I’ve suppressed everything for so many years, but in what I imagine now as maybe a couple of years later my parents split up. My dad had a bad drinking problem from what I know now, but definitely did not understand that at the time. So my mom up and left him. I remember us moving into another place not too terribly far away. 

I was sad we were leaving and really wanted to spend time with my dad. My sister, Chrystal who was adopted by my dad at a young age didn’t want to see him. She was a difficult teenager and my father and she did not agree on much. They use to scream at one another. I’m certain he got physical with her although I’m not positive I had witnessed it first hand. My brother T.J. was some sort of a momma’s boy as well so I always felt like my father and I had a special bond. Maybe too special. 

For the past year I had began to have very complex nightmares. Not the kind where you’re riding a rollercoaster and you fall out or some shit like that. Like surreal ideas that someone I thought would protect me and never harm me did just that. 

At first I remembered a blank face touching me and telling me that our secret is safe between us. That it was what people did and that if I said anything I would be in big trouble. In my dreams I could not picture this person. I could only hear their words yet not their voice. I sometimes would feel their breath on me and I would awake soaked in sweat and shivering. Some days I would awake to my hand in my soaked panties.  

 (Image credit: Sott.net)

I’d never understood why I would play with myself before now. I thought I was fucked up and maybe had like sexsomnia or was just a sex addict although I didn’t show signs of being a porn addict or frequent sex with strangers or anything radical. 

Not only had someone hurt me when I was in my early childhood, but again in my early adolescence. My neighbor and best friends older brother took advantage of me when I would stay the night. This was when I first discovered paralysis. He would prey on me while I was asleep. I would awake to his hands in my pants and him poking and prodding at me. I remember trying to tell him to stop. Trying to turn away or get up and run. Scream. Anything. But nothing would ever come out. I always felt that by not defending myself it allowed him to take advantage of me and that it was my fault that he hurt me. I recall trying to scream so loud that little muffled cries came out and I opened my eyes as big as I could. Tears ran down my face. He noticed that time. He stopped. He ran behind a door and didn’t move. I felt stupid. Had I imagined that he was doing that to me?

I finally gained the courage to tell, but felt so ashamed that I couldn’t reach out to my own parents. I was close with the boys family and so I told his mom. She turned away immediately. I knew she didn’t believe me, but I felt so strong for finally mustering up the courage to spill the beans. So I decided to tell my own mom. I don’t recall how either of my parents reacted. I remember them speaking with said boys parents and them deciding he would be punished by strenuous farm chores for the summer.

Since when is sexually assaulting someone punishable by chores? As an adult I’m so disgusted by his ‘sentence’ that anytime I see his face on social media or read his first or last name anywhere I cringe. I cringe because he is a perpetrator. He left me feeling helpless, alone, sad, hurt, confused, disgusted and most of all victimized. I was the victim of his actions. I still feel shame because of his actions. I did not give the okay for him to touch my body. I am the victim. I am the victim. I AM THE VICTIM!

Dig

Oct 11, 2017 1 p.m.

As many of you know, I was diagnosed with PTSD on 9.6.17. I had never openly spoke with anyone about the nightmares that regularly commenced related to my childhood and how much trauma I had experienced at a very young age. However, yesterday I opened up to some people that I trusted and many of the things I had to say were validated. I can’t believe an entire family can ignore or physically not see the pain and hell I lived in as a child. I’m sure on the surface I seemed just as happy as any other kid, but I wasn’t. I was screaming inside although I never cried out. I was confused and felt alone. I thought things were my fault and that I was a bad girl for letting someone do those things to me. I shut out the tragedies and relished in the good-times for so long that I had almost permanently erased the doom that once consumed my soul.

(Image credit: brightnest.com)

When I opened up to a particular person I trusted, he proceeded to ask me why I would want to dig up all this stuff and to be honest I was taken back by this question. I’m not “digging up the past,” I’m putting myself back together. I have been haunted and scarred by the memories buried deep inside my mind. I have been in literal HELL due to the selfish decisions made by someone else. I did not choose for these things to happen to me and I damn sure didn’t deserve to have my innocence STOLEN from me as a preschooler. At age 3 we do not retain memories so all I have been focused on is trying to piece together a sea of puzzle pieces resembling a black hole. Each piece precisely fitting— one by one. 

As the picture is completed I am recalling other things. Horrible thoughts that happened to me and that I saw happen around me. I can remember smells, touches, images, emotional feelings of pain and sadness; basically a gust of unimaginable wind from hell has over taken my life 20+ years later. As much as a I try to see clearly I’m faced with constant debris.  

So i’ve began to research a lot about physical, mental and sexual abuse and thought I would fill you guys in on a little. 

(Image credit: whisnews21.com)

Did you know…..

20% of children who are sexually abused are abused before the age of 8? 

Use of alcohol/drugs at an early age can be a sign of trauma such as child sexual abuse?

One in 10 children will be sexually abused before age 18?

90% of child sexual abuse victims KNOW THEIR ABUSER? (d2l.org)

63% of women who had suffered sexual abuse by a family member also reported a rape or attempted rape after the age of 14?

A child who is the victim of prolonged sexual abuse usually develops low self-esteem, a feeling of worthlessness and an abnormal or distorted view of sex making them become withdrawn and mistrustful of adults, and can even become suicidal?

Child sexual abuse is not solely restricted to physical contact; such abuse could include non contact abuse, such as exposure, voyeurism, and child pornography? (victimsofcrime.org)

As an adult SURVIVOR of sexual abuse one can experience…

Guilt, shame, and blame.

Intimacy and relationship issues.

Self-esteem concerns directly related to relationships, career and even personal health.

So before you question someones intent on whether they should “dig up” old shit, realize that this isn’t just an old issue to us. This has slowly shaped us into the adult we are, yet we are not subject to let this awful past continue to effect our future. I deserve to be a better me and the same goes for other survivors of childhood sexual abuse. I’m taking a stand! Ready or not here I come.