The Lonely

My Day, Thoughts and Feeling summed up in one Photo, leading upto Anniversary... Day 4


Today i have included two photos, these pictures i drew myself in Art Therapy on Monday and yesterday in normal therapy spent a great deal of time talking about. Challenging my opinions on myself and the situations and why I'm struggling to move forwards. It was a tough session. I wanted to share the two photos i drew with you as my emotions for today....

Burden

My Day, Thoughts and Feeling summed up in one Photo, leading upto Anniversary... Day 3

Is there something on my back??

My Day, Thoughts and Feeling summed up in one Photo, leading upto Anniversary... Day 2
The woman in this photo looks so defeated, sad and lonely. I also get the sense she has given up as she isn't even bothering to struggle with the weight anymore. Her head is turned away from the world, away from the weight on her shoulders.... I relate to this woman.

Tumbling Down the Rabbit Hole

My Day, Thoughts and Feeling summed up in one Photo, leading upto Anniversary... Day 1

Without Words

As you'll be aware (as its all I harp on about lately on here!) Is that one week tomorrow...will be my One year anniversary. I've been fighting to much just to get through the days...keep the smile plastered across my face for all to see that its just so exhausting I haven't had much time to write. 


What i've been really struggling with - which no doubt sounds so damn ridiculous - is that here in the UK at the moment we have to reality shows on at the minute, Xfactor and Strictly come Dancing. On BOTH shows there is someone who shares the first name of my abuser. Naturally everyone in my house watches these shows and every weekend I have to 'his' name echoing up the stairs. It send chills through my bones, and on occasion has sparked a flashback. I hate this, it effects me so much, i go into a supermarket and the cashier has his name,
I go to a restaurant and the guy says 'Hi my name is C... and ill be your waiter this evening'. I can't escape him, I can't escape it, I can't escape from my own mind.


Another thing I have been struggling with is the fact my family who I live with, have gone away for a week. They will be back 2 days before my anni, but im all alone in the house leading up to that time. I've got my therapists number on speed dial in case of any emergencies, but it scares me just knowing that sometimes I feel capable of being in an 'emergency'. Im trying my hardest, although admittedly sometimes I wonder what it is im fighting for.


For next week, as of monday because i know ill be without words, instead i am going to post a single photo that represents how i am feeling that day, leading up to my anni on the 23rd.....


Stay tuned, and thanks for all of you who read this blog and offer your support.

The Twenty-three Hundred Hour Storm

She leaves her friend after a pleasant evening of hot chocolate, marshmallows and a good romantic comedy.


Saying farewell at the door she glimpses the raging storm outside - heavy rainfall, thunder and high speed winds - oddly peaceful and comforting. She smiles to herself as she makes a run for it, becoming impossibly soaked in just a few short seconds. Collapsing into the drivers seat she has a quick glance in the rear view mirror, as usual a stranger stares back at her. The unknown girls brown hair is windswept and and clumped from the large droplets of rain and her dull blue eyes are smeared with black mascara at the edges. She recalls a time when these eyes sparkled, like diamonds in the rough... but she knew this girl had long disappeared, unsure of when or if she'd see her again. Attention from the mirror is quickly withdrawn and she flicks to her favourite track on the CD currently in the player; starting the ignition and turning on the lights, she drives.


Driving home in adequate spirits she braves the weather and rolls down the window slightly to have a cigarette. Softly singing to the song echoing through the vehicle she drives through the torrential rain fall, windscreen wipers at full speed. As she turns a corner a carefully aimed swoop of wind drives water directly through the window splashing on her face. She laughs to herself as her face drips with rainwater. Continuing the drive and nearing home another smaller burst of rain manages to rocket through the small gap in the window and splashes on her face. Suddenly she is without breath. Her heart rate increases and the dull blue eyes widen in horror as a memory comes to the surface. A memory where a diamond blue eyed girl meets up with a new male friend in her car and they go for a drive in the rain.


Unable to see through the rainfall they park down a side street, enjoying the loud noise of the rain bouncing off the car roof. So much laughter, so much good conversation. At the time her old banger vehicle had a leak and water started to seep through the light in the roof, dripping onto her face. The man finds this hilarious. They both laugh as the water continues to drip from the roof of the car, splashing them as the droplets fell. He wipes the water off her face and smiles at her. She feels so safe around him.


As soon as the memory had come it quickly dissolved, leaving the girl barely breathing. Her smile has faded, her dull blue eyes now grey and her hands tightly grip the steering wheel.  To an outsider this would be perceived as a happy memory, but not to the dull eyed girl. Driving home in a trance-like-state, flash-cards of more images, memories, are burned into her eyes. Like quickly flicking through a photo album, still frames of a certain memory darted across her field of vision. These images were far from happy. Time had fast forward and the location had changed but they involved the same two people, the male friend and the girl with diamond blue eyes.  The images held many secrets, secrets that were buried, secrets to painful and unimaginable for the girl to envision. She tried to fight the images off, knowing ultimately what the ending would be, but this time she couldn't fight it. The final image showed the sparkle drain out of the girls eyes....


Pulling up on the street to her house she turned off the ignition and sat their frozen. Rain pellets belted the front window and danced down the glass, mirroring the tears now waltzing down her face. She was angry at herself for allowing the nearly one year old images to play through her mind. The truth was unacceptable and incomprehensible, it needed to stay locked in its Pandoras Box... despite this belief she heard a quiet voice, shouting from a dark deep place inside her soul,
'Say it, admit the truth, just say it, say it out loud'.
She tried to  obey the tiny voice and whispered,
'I was..., I was....', but the final word escaped her.


Distressed and vulnerable, she did what she does best and locked up Pandoras Box. The 23:00 hour storm that brought this brief moment of clarity calmed down and she walked up the back to the safety of her home.


The tiny voice inside her soul shook its head and exclaimed 'I will try again tomorrow....'
The memories sunk back to depths at which they came from...

Monster

Monster

You didn't hide behind the closet

Never concealed yourself in the shadows

Hiding your truth in plain sight

Utilising your mask well, obscuring the monstrosity of your very nature

Left no one questioning, Clever little monster

Your evil soul lurked in the depths

Your kind smile deceiving well

The verbal vomit of your lies

Covering the darkness of your truth

Naive girl, how was I to tell?

Upon completion of your web

You knew you had me trapped

Those poisoned lips infected me

Planting memories inside my head

Lying wounded, slowly dying on your bed

You fed the monster that lives within you

It was I who was your prey

An unlikely weapon destroyed me

Forever fearful of mans capabilities

Life affected until the end

Hunger satisfied you buried the monster

How long down there would It stay?

Your angelic face returned

To pledge it's eternal woe

Claiming not to be the monster I had now come to know

Your venom coursed through my veins 

Destroying all sanity and intelligence

For a time the misty haze swarming my brain denied me of the truth

Clarity intact, your venom now grants me the gift of seeing the hidden monster

The monster who ate me alive but refused to swallow.

Keeping me alive, was your greatest evil.

Written today on my eleven month anniversary. Copyrighted

Writers Block

Posting on my blog has been difficult for me of late. The same can be said for a survivor support forum i regularly use. I remember a time when i would reach out all the time! Post whatever is running through my mind in hope for some support from a kind stranger. Its getting harder and harder to reach out. The only person i am truly honest with is my therapist...in fact even that is a lie, i'd say I'm 80% honest with her. I lie to everyone now.
'How are you doing?' 
'Yeah I'm okay thanks, how are you?' - Why is it so damn hard to just tell the truth! 


I get so frustrated with the people who are aware of what's going on with me, they often just accept that answer and ask no more questions. I feel like they should know I'm not okay, they should know when i don't want to talk, and when in fact i'd like to but perhaps scared to bring it up incase of bringing a downer to the conversation. I know i can't expect people to be psychic but i'd like to think at least the people in my life who know me well, know enough to know when i am not okay!


I guess what's got me thinking about this, is my anniversary. 11 month anniversary. Tomorrow.


I am dreading the stroke of midnight on my clock-face.


Each time i don't know how I'm going to get through the day. Things would be so much easier, so much more peaceful if when i went to sleep...i never awoke the next morning. The hardest thing about tomorrow is knowing its my last 'month' anniversary. The next one is one year. One Year. I know for sure i can't survive this one. The week before my family are going away to Spain, they will be back for the 23rd but (and i'd never admit this to them) I'm scared of them leaving in the approaching week. Because I'm scared of what i may be capable of doing. My mum has been begging me to try to find some money to go with them, i know this is because she is afraid to leave me alone.


If anyone has any advice on how to get through the month of October and the 23rd, please let me know. I'm drowning here.


.....Wake me up when October ends.....

Time Flies...

They say time flies when your having fun, and the bad days seem to never end. I have found this well known quote to be completely way off reality. Next month will mark one year since my assault and everyday has been a living hell and yet it has flown by scarily fast. It seems like the incident happened only a few months ago. On a really bad day, the minutes seem to tick by slowly but then at the end of the day i realise its actually gone really fast. I feel like i have lost an entire year of my life. Not only have I lost myself, but i am also loosing time.

That bastard has taken away my time. Its overwhelmingly scary when you start to do a tick list of all the things that have been stolen from you, it seems impossible to take them all back. If i am honest i don't think they can be taken back.


In therapy i often discuss with my Therapist about my future, or lack of one. Last week she asked me to draw how i see myself now, and how i see myself in the future. For the how i see myself now i drew a question mark, a large black scribble of mess and a stickman dead at the bottom of the ocean, ball and chain around it's leg. Naturally my therapists interpretation was dead on (no pun intended). I know there something holding me back, something that is stopping me from moving forwards in my healing, what it is...i do not know. My therapist said once we are able to undo the chain which is holding me to the sea bed, i will slowly start to find myself again and begin to heal. She said my soul is not dead, but that it is off somewhere and slowly i will start to find it again and take back what has been taken. This is one the few times i completely disagreed with her.


I have started to realise (and i am not saying this is true for everyone) that when a trauma so huge happens to someone it is literally like it has killed them. I have had many survivors explain their trauma like 'a murder where there was no literal death'. When someone has died, there can be no resuscitation. I believe this is true with me. My soul has not simply 'gone away for a while'. It is dead, lying in the vegetation at the bottom of ocean. He killed me. I think - for me - it's not about getting back that girl i was before the rape (i'm not sure i'd even want to be that weak vulnerable naive girl anyway) it's about creating a new one. A new me. Trouble is sometimes it makes me so angry that the girl i have been for 22 years is suddenly gone along with all her hopes and dreams. Now all i have to work with is this empty shell. My therapist found this analogy interesting and could understand where i was coming from. She said 'isn't a blank canvas exciting, think of all you could create for your "new" self and the woman you could become'. Personally i think it seems like a lot of fucking hard work (excuse the curse!). 


It begs the questions:

• how do you live when you are already dead?
• how do you start over and create a new self?
• how do you know you will like the person you end up becoming?

It also makes me wonder, if rapists truly take a persons life (which i believe they do) then why on earth when it comes to our justice system do they not get given life sentences! IF they are even convicted, which there is a despicable 6.5% chance of, the average sentence is four years, meaning they are out in two years. TWO years for taking anothers life. People get more for driving offenses. The world is a f'd up place!

What's wrong with me?

I think something is seriously wrong with me.

Today i worked at a place ive never worked before, at a low secure units for criminals who have mental health issues.
I started the shift nervous - as it was all male criminals - but ending up being fine, they were all really nice and friendly, lovely to me, made me drinks. Then i asked the nurse about the unit and she told me about it, said if im interested to read their files....

Well first the guy i'd just been chatting for ages was a baby killer, murdered his baby boy  (in his bad mental health state thought he was the devil and killed him)
And then i find out there is a rapist and a man who indecently has exposed himself to his children in the past.

I now have to work with these people. Weird thing is, on another ward about a month ago, i encounted a child molester, it made me so ill, and i refused to nurse him and stayed far far away from this creep, made so uncomfortable. This time.....it didnt phase me! WHY!!!

Is it because i am so disconnected from everything? from my R*? from other people's R*?
Both these incidents were many many years ago and they had both served time for it, they were now serving time for things like stealing etc and were in the unit due to the mental issues they had. But thats besides the point, these people have seriously affected someone elses life, regardless of how long ago it was, regardless of the fact they had served there time. For some reason the fact they were sexual offenders didnt seem to connect in my head....i even played pool with one of them!!! I was thinking i should beating the shit out of this guy with the pool que and yet the feelings of hatred and disgust just didn't connect. WHY! I feel like a freak, i feel like ive betrayed myself and all other survivors out there. Its so hard because its my job and i cant just ignore these people and treat them like shit, but what is bothering me is the fact that it all just didn't phase me. Didn't affect me.

What also is making me feel so disgusting is the fact there was a staff member there that looked quite a bit like my rapist. At first i had a mini attack but then calmed myself down assuring myself it wasn't him. But then he kept coming over and talking to me. He was nice. Whats worse is...i kind of fancied him. WHAT?! i fancied a guy who looks a bit like my rapist! I mean my rapist was tall, dark and quite good looking (what i normally go for) and there are a lot of people who obviously will look like him, and its freaking me out the fact that i am going to be attracted to these people? This is so messed up and confusing me and making me feel so disgusting. But then i can hardly go and change my type in men? Im so sorry to be ranting, im probably not even making any sense, ive just walked through the door in such a daze, i cant explain my behaviour today and its making me hate myself even more. I feel so dirty and disgusting.

Please can someone help me make sense of all this, i feel like such a disgusting freak.
It's almost like i was fine at work, but now im at home the truth is starting to sink in and i feel myself becoming triggered by todays events, i think its going to be a bad night

Please if you dont hate me for how ive behaved today...please sit with me