god, I just ...
for years, maybe my whole life I can't sleep. like, I can, but I can't just fucking lay down and rest when it's time to. I fuss and toss and think horrible things, imagine horrible scenarios of people I love licking me when I don't want them to and my friends dying in horrible ways and horrible horrible horrible.
I am exhausted.
debating cutting off both of my parents, by which I basically mean ignoring them, and it's ....difficult.... because I am afraid. in a book that has been very kind to me, the body never lies, doctor alice miller speaks on... ugh I can't think. my heart is clogged and I can't (breathe) think.
okay.
my mom and dad talk to me. I'm an ocean away now and I feel closer to them than I have in a while. I liked it when I lived in my boyfriend's basement with no phone and no internet so I could feign ignorance of their attempts to contact me. it's not that I am afraid of telling them they're fucked up and wrong and manipulative and cruel. I tell them these things and then I'm afraid, okay maybe I am afraid, because every time I tell them they .... they.... they....fuck. they um, god, fuck, okay, they... what do they do?
my mom... fuck you know what? I can look this up.
she says we should forget the past and make new memories. I have to remind myself that she said this because on cue when I read it I forget. but I don't make new memories, I wallow in old pains.
my dad's face turns sour and he tells me I don't understand and that he tried his best
and all I hear from them is
"you're complaining about nothing. i didn't do anything wrong
i love you."
when they say they love me my clitoris tingles like... it's being electrocuted. it's not pleasant. and my back aches. my shoulders ache. my neck aches. my heart pulses irregularly....
when I read over past emails from them, I feel like there's something wrong with ME and not them. because I can't remember what they did to me right now.
i feel terrible, god
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
a bad dream
I had a dream that I've had before~
and in it, my father is fucking me, fucking me, and I am insane; I am running to friends saying "something is wrong, I feel it and I can't shake it, what is happening to me?" and then I remember, my father and I had sex, he wanted to show me how it could be done right, and I agreed, so it's partially my fault. He couldn't keep it up, and I kept wondering what was wrong with the situation, but I let it continue and let my father stick his wrinkly Pepperidge-farm sausage dick in me. It smells sickly and wet.
End dream, and I don't remember it until later in the day. I tell my friends and they don't seem to realize how upsetting this is to me. It's not like I think this is a memory, but why don't they understand how I feel?
I realize why I had this dream, and realizing why doesn't help. At the same time I fear I don't know the real reason why; that the real reason is staring me in the face and there's nothing I can do but swallow it eventually.
and in it, my father is fucking me, fucking me, and I am insane; I am running to friends saying "something is wrong, I feel it and I can't shake it, what is happening to me?" and then I remember, my father and I had sex, he wanted to show me how it could be done right, and I agreed, so it's partially my fault. He couldn't keep it up, and I kept wondering what was wrong with the situation, but I let it continue and let my father stick his wrinkly Pepperidge-farm sausage dick in me. It smells sickly and wet.
End dream, and I don't remember it until later in the day. I tell my friends and they don't seem to realize how upsetting this is to me. It's not like I think this is a memory, but why don't they understand how I feel?
I realize why I had this dream, and realizing why doesn't help. At the same time I fear I don't know the real reason why; that the real reason is staring me in the face and there's nothing I can do but swallow it eventually.
Friday, November 14, 2008
love/hate
An old friend of mine violated a girl I used to love/hate.
And it makes me think. It reminds me of old feelings. Bubbling on top is anger-- at those who say the lady I love/hated is lying. Well, I say "say," but this is (city) and people don't say things here-- they imply things. I have been hearing some heavy implications that my love/hate-lady is at fault somehow, for being sexed upon without permission.
I see and hear all these reactions from people, and I wonder (not necessarily about them, but I wonder), are the statistics I have heard true? Have nine out of ten women been sexually abused before the age of consent in the US? Because nine out of ten women certainly act that way.
And how many men, I wonder? It seems to me that in order to impose something as horrible as rape on another, another must have imposed something as horrible as rape on the perpetrator.
But we don't talk about that. It's too painful; too difficult. Even I'm hiding. I'm scared to talk.
Another human being has been molested, and all I can think of is my own incest.
And it makes me think. It reminds me of old feelings. Bubbling on top is anger-- at those who say the lady I love/hated is lying. Well, I say "say," but this is (city) and people don't say things here-- they imply things. I have been hearing some heavy implications that my love/hate-lady is at fault somehow, for being sexed upon without permission.
I see and hear all these reactions from people, and I wonder (not necessarily about them, but I wonder), are the statistics I have heard true? Have nine out of ten women been sexually abused before the age of consent in the US? Because nine out of ten women certainly act that way.
And how many men, I wonder? It seems to me that in order to impose something as horrible as rape on another, another must have imposed something as horrible as rape on the perpetrator.
But we don't talk about that. It's too painful; too difficult. Even I'm hiding. I'm scared to talk.
Another human being has been molested, and all I can think of is my own incest.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
do you remember your childhood?
I mean every part. I've been remembering bits and pieces more and more as I continue to grow up. As I continue to let myself cry, and really feel the things that hide deep in my subconscious.
Last night I felt encased; encroached upon; molested and sick. This is a common feeling for me. There's a heavy stone in my stomach, and my neck and shoulders feel tighter than usual. I feel sexually aroused in a literally nauseating way.
Yesterday was the day my husband and I signed our marriage licence. I had an overwhelming feeling that he was going to leave or die. These feelings are also not uncommon, and I've gotten better at expressing them so I don't act completely insane. As I told my husband my fears of his sudden departure, I tried to remember the first time I had felt this way. I remembered something I hadn't thought of in about 15 years.
When I was little, about 2 or 3, my mom's friend Jill and her toddler Brandon lived in our tiny, trashy apartment with us. I thought Brandon was my brother. Jill killed herself, Brandon's dad came to take him away, and then my mom left us.
Last night I felt encased; encroached upon; molested and sick. This is a common feeling for me. There's a heavy stone in my stomach, and my neck and shoulders feel tighter than usual. I feel sexually aroused in a literally nauseating way.
Yesterday was the day my husband and I signed our marriage licence. I had an overwhelming feeling that he was going to leave or die. These feelings are also not uncommon, and I've gotten better at expressing them so I don't act completely insane. As I told my husband my fears of his sudden departure, I tried to remember the first time I had felt this way. I remembered something I hadn't thought of in about 15 years.
When I was little, about 2 or 3, my mom's friend Jill and her toddler Brandon lived in our tiny, trashy apartment with us. I thought Brandon was my brother. Jill killed herself, Brandon's dad came to take him away, and then my mom left us.
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