I've had a rough few days- major stress and drama going on in my life, another serious battle with the anxiety monster, and- with impeccable timing, as usual, my computer's master hard drive decided to give up the ghost at the worst possible moment. It's the third hard drive I've killed in the past five years, so by this time I've learned to be obsessive about backing everything up on a regular basis, and the only thing I lost in the process was my temper.
I'm so glad you thought of me, my anonymous friend- you're never far from my thoughts, either.
I'm on my way back up out of the hole I was in, though, I think. I'm getting extremely bored with these mood swings. I go from being on top of the world, straight down to the depths of hell, and back up again at least once a week.
No more word from my sister in law, who was supposed to have left my brother on Monday. I'll bet any money that she stayed with him, and that's why she hasn't written me. I don't like to think too much about the alternative- she always used to say that the only way my brother would let her go is if she were dead.
Hey you, out there in the cold
Getting lonely, getting old
Can you feel me?
Hey you, standing in the aisles
With itchy feet and fading smiles
Can you feel me?
Hey you, don’t help them to bury the light...
Don’t give in
without a fight.
Hey you, out there on your own
Sitting naked by the phone
Would you touch me?
Hey you, with you ear against the wall
Waiting for someone to call out
Would you touch me?
Hey you, would you help me to carry the stone?
Open your heart, I’m coming home...
But it was only fantasy.
The wall was too high,
As you can see.
No matter how she tried,
She could not break free.
And the worms ate into her brain.
Hey you, standing in the road
Always doing what you’re told,
Can you help me?
Hey you, out there beyond the wall,
Breaking bottles in the hall,
Can you help me?
Hey you, don’t tell me there’s no hope at all
Together we stand, divided we fall.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Monday, February 21, 2005
Mother
I know I said I was going to go dredging in the depths of my contaminated soul, but I can't right now. It's all I can do just to hang onto my sanity, without going down that road as well. I'm feeling really touchy and pissed off at the world today. It's probably just PMS.
Not having a family- not having parents who I know will love me and stand by me no matter what- is a pain that I'm never going to get over. It hurts to despise the people who created you. If they are such monsters, and they made me, then what am I? How can I ever be better than they are, if all my genetic material came from them?
I hate them both, my mom and my dad. The main reason I don't have a relationship with them is because they turned their backs on me when I needed them desperately. And it wasn't just once- it happened over and over again, beginning when I was a helpless baby, and ending on the day that I told my mother to go to hell about six months ago, when I asked her for emotional support and she told me flat out that she is too busy with her career to have time to care about my problems.
She can't hurt me anymore, but not having a mother in my life hurts so much, so in that way, she's still hurting me even today.
Enough of that. I'll go into details later, because I know I have to face it if I want to heal. But that's enough for today.
Hush, my baby. Baby, don't you cry.
Momma's gonna make all of your nightmares come true.
Momma's gonna put all of her fears into you.
Momma's gonna keep you right here under her wing.
She won't let you fly, but she might let you sing.
Momma's gonna keep Baby cozy and warm.
Of course Momma's gonna help build a wall...
Not having a family- not having parents who I know will love me and stand by me no matter what- is a pain that I'm never going to get over. It hurts to despise the people who created you. If they are such monsters, and they made me, then what am I? How can I ever be better than they are, if all my genetic material came from them?
I hate them both, my mom and my dad. The main reason I don't have a relationship with them is because they turned their backs on me when I needed them desperately. And it wasn't just once- it happened over and over again, beginning when I was a helpless baby, and ending on the day that I told my mother to go to hell about six months ago, when I asked her for emotional support and she told me flat out that she is too busy with her career to have time to care about my problems.
She can't hurt me anymore, but not having a mother in my life hurts so much, so in that way, she's still hurting me even today.
Enough of that. I'll go into details later, because I know I have to face it if I want to heal. But that's enough for today.
Hush, my baby. Baby, don't you cry.
Momma's gonna make all of your nightmares come true.
Momma's gonna put all of her fears into you.
Momma's gonna keep you right here under her wing.
She won't let you fly, but she might let you sing.
Momma's gonna keep Baby cozy and warm.
Of course Momma's gonna help build a wall...
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Addict
I'm doing okay with the Xanax my doctor prescribed. I knew damn well that I could not trust myself to take them as prescribed. I'm too compulsive, and they make me feel so good. And in my addict's mind, I'd start thinking, "If one makes me feel good, two would make me feel better." And so on, until I'd be taking five or six at a pop, or even more.
So I gave them to my husband and told him to hide them, and not to give them to me unless he could see that I was having a panic attack. And, thank heavens, he knows me well enough to know that this is the only safe way for me to have addictive drugs in the house, so he's cooperating.
It's easier for me this way. Since getting the prescription, I've taken exactly three of them. And oddly enough, my anxiety level has gone way down, all on its own. I feel safer than I did before. I know I have an "out" if things get too bad, but at the same time I don't have the bottle there, calling to me all the time.
I've been wanting to talk more about my mother, and about why I hate her so much. But that can wait. It's a beautiful Saturday morning, not a good time to start dredging up the nastiest muck from the bottom of my soul.
So I gave them to my husband and told him to hide them, and not to give them to me unless he could see that I was having a panic attack. And, thank heavens, he knows me well enough to know that this is the only safe way for me to have addictive drugs in the house, so he's cooperating.
It's easier for me this way. Since getting the prescription, I've taken exactly three of them. And oddly enough, my anxiety level has gone way down, all on its own. I feel safer than I did before. I know I have an "out" if things get too bad, but at the same time I don't have the bottle there, calling to me all the time.
I've been wanting to talk more about my mother, and about why I hate her so much. But that can wait. It's a beautiful Saturday morning, not a good time to start dredging up the nastiest muck from the bottom of my soul.
Memories
I'll probably regret writing this entry so late at night, because bringing the memories to the surface will keep me awake, but I can't seem to stop myself.
I've already spoken in detail about the sexual abuse I endured at the hands of my older brother. But if I am honest, I know that my brother's abuses had less impact on me than what I suffered at the hands of my parents. My father, mostly- my mother was only abusive because she she never once stepped in to rescue me. As the years pass, I find that I have a harder time forgiving her than I do my father.
My father was an angry man, and when he lost his temper- which was often- he took it out on us physically. He was an impatient man, and he was determined to nip any tiny bud of self-esteem he saw emerging from any of us, his children. He was often sadistic, and throughout my childhood, I was terrified of him. When I was at school, I used to dread weekends, because from Friday evening to Monday morning, I was at his mercy, and he was a man with no mercy at all.
I remember getting a whipping with his leather belt once- I don't remember what I had supposedly done to deserve it, but I do remember that I wet myself from the terror and pain, and then I was beaten again- with the buckle of the belt this time- for pissing on the floor.
One thing that I remember best is how, when I knew he was in a bad mood, I would always go into my bedroom and begin frantically cleaning, because I knew that he would come in there, screaming about my "filthy pigsty". And no matter how clean my room was, he always found fault. Sometimes I would clean for hours, and feel quite proud of my efforts...and he would always come in and say the exact same thing. He'd say, "Well, this is a good start, but this room is still a pigsty." And then he would make a snorting noise, imitating a pig, because he wanted to be perfectly clear that, in his mind, I was a disgusting pig. There was absolutely no way to please him, none at all. And even today, when someone says to me "That's a good start", I want to break down in tears.
That's enough for now. Of course I have more demons, and I fully intend to bring them into the light, because hopefully the light will destroy them. But not tonight...I'm so tired.
I've already spoken in detail about the sexual abuse I endured at the hands of my older brother. But if I am honest, I know that my brother's abuses had less impact on me than what I suffered at the hands of my parents. My father, mostly- my mother was only abusive because she she never once stepped in to rescue me. As the years pass, I find that I have a harder time forgiving her than I do my father.
My father was an angry man, and when he lost his temper- which was often- he took it out on us physically. He was an impatient man, and he was determined to nip any tiny bud of self-esteem he saw emerging from any of us, his children. He was often sadistic, and throughout my childhood, I was terrified of him. When I was at school, I used to dread weekends, because from Friday evening to Monday morning, I was at his mercy, and he was a man with no mercy at all.
I remember getting a whipping with his leather belt once- I don't remember what I had supposedly done to deserve it, but I do remember that I wet myself from the terror and pain, and then I was beaten again- with the buckle of the belt this time- for pissing on the floor.
One thing that I remember best is how, when I knew he was in a bad mood, I would always go into my bedroom and begin frantically cleaning, because I knew that he would come in there, screaming about my "filthy pigsty". And no matter how clean my room was, he always found fault. Sometimes I would clean for hours, and feel quite proud of my efforts...and he would always come in and say the exact same thing. He'd say, "Well, this is a good start, but this room is still a pigsty." And then he would make a snorting noise, imitating a pig, because he wanted to be perfectly clear that, in his mind, I was a disgusting pig. There was absolutely no way to please him, none at all. And even today, when someone says to me "That's a good start", I want to break down in tears.
That's enough for now. Of course I have more demons, and I fully intend to bring them into the light, because hopefully the light will destroy them. But not tonight...I'm so tired.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
will she or won't she?
My sister in law finally wrote to me, and said that she's leaving my brother because of what I said to her. I don't know what to think. I won't believe her until it really happens. And even then...I live 5000 miles from them, with no plans of going back, and I have no contact at all with anyone else in the family, so how will I ever know for sure if she's lying or not?
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
I wish I was the moon
I'm just tired. Tired and lonely. Wishing that someone- anyone -would just love me. I need that. I need to be loved and not taken for granted.
My husband says that I should be pleased that he takes me for granted. He says that it's proof that our relationship is healthy. He thinks our relationship is healthy, and I am dying inside, my heart and soul are withering away.
No word from my sister in law.
Chimney falls and lover's blaze
Thought that I was young
Now I've freezing hands and bloodless veins
as numb as I've become
I'm so tired
I wish I was the moon tonight
Last night I dreamt I'd forgotten my name
'cause I sold my soul but I woke just the same
I'm so lonely
I wish I was the moon tonight
God bless me I'm a free man
with no place free to go
Paralyzed and collared tight
No pills for what I fear
This is crazy
I wish I was the moon tonight
How will you know if you've found me at last
'cause I'll be the one, be the one, be the one
with my heart in my lap
I'm so tired, I'm so tired
and I wish I was the moon tonight
My husband says that I should be pleased that he takes me for granted. He says that it's proof that our relationship is healthy. He thinks our relationship is healthy, and I am dying inside, my heart and soul are withering away.
No word from my sister in law.
Chimney falls and lover's blaze
Thought that I was young
Now I've freezing hands and bloodless veins
as numb as I've become
I'm so tired
I wish I was the moon tonight
Last night I dreamt I'd forgotten my name
'cause I sold my soul but I woke just the same
I'm so lonely
I wish I was the moon tonight
God bless me I'm a free man
with no place free to go
Paralyzed and collared tight
No pills for what I fear
This is crazy
I wish I was the moon tonight
How will you know if you've found me at last
'cause I'll be the one, be the one, be the one
with my heart in my lap
I'm so tired, I'm so tired
and I wish I was the moon tonight
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
girl
My sister-in-law wrote to me again, wanting me to tell her if I thought she should stay with my brother or go back to her other boyfriend.
I wrote back this time. I let it all pour out of me. I told her how my brother molested me and raped me when I was only a little girl. I told her how he tried to deny it when I confronted him. I told her that if she stays with him, she is putting her own children in danger, and that if she stays, it will be the end of any friendship between us, because I must keep my daughter safe from my brother, no matter what else happens.
Once, I loved her. She is the closest thing to the sister I never had. I pray she listens to me. Please God, let her listen. For the sake of her unborn baby, for the sake of my nieces, let her truly hear what I've said, let her walk away.
But I don't think she will.
From in the shadow she calls
And in the shadow she finds a way finds a way
And in the shadow she crawls
Clutching her faded photograph my image under her thumb
Yes with a message for my heart
Yes with a message for my heart
She's been everybody else's girl maybe one day she'll be her own
Everybody else's girl maybe one day she'll be her own
I wrote back this time. I let it all pour out of me. I told her how my brother molested me and raped me when I was only a little girl. I told her how he tried to deny it when I confronted him. I told her that if she stays with him, she is putting her own children in danger, and that if she stays, it will be the end of any friendship between us, because I must keep my daughter safe from my brother, no matter what else happens.
Once, I loved her. She is the closest thing to the sister I never had. I pray she listens to me. Please God, let her listen. For the sake of her unborn baby, for the sake of my nieces, let her truly hear what I've said, let her walk away.
But I don't think she will.
From in the shadow she calls
And in the shadow she finds a way finds a way
And in the shadow she crawls
Clutching her faded photograph my image under her thumb
Yes with a message for my heart
Yes with a message for my heart
She's been everybody else's girl maybe one day she'll be her own
Everybody else's girl maybe one day she'll be her own
The Act We Act
I am supposed to be a happy housewife. I do love my life, for the most part- don't get me wrong- but something is missing. Something big. I don't really believe in soul-mates, because I've been in too many relationships where my partner claimed that I was his soul mate, but that never stopped anyone from leaving me in the end.
But I am lonely. And something is missing from my life. I miss having someone who adores me as much as I adore them. I miss being thought of as sexy. I miss being wooed.
Why can't I rid myself of the idea that I deserve to have true passion in my life? My husband did remember Valentine's day. He bought me a fifty-cent Galaxy bar as a gift, and a single carnation that they gave him for free at the supermarket. What am I complaining about? I don't care that he didn't spend a lot of money. I complain because, like most days, he didn't kiss me even once yesterday. He certainly did not hug me or hold me or touch me or say "I love you".
I'm still young enough to want these things. I'm still young enough to be unable to bear the idea that I must give them up forever.
"If affection holds you back
Then what is left to hold
If I could find the answer to that question
then I'd know
The thoughts that clutter up your mind
And leave me feeling drained
And walking pacing up the walls
Across the floor again
All the things I haven't seen
Once the final curtain has been raised
The act we act is wearing thin
The act we act is under my skin"
But I am lonely. And something is missing from my life. I miss having someone who adores me as much as I adore them. I miss being thought of as sexy. I miss being wooed.
Why can't I rid myself of the idea that I deserve to have true passion in my life? My husband did remember Valentine's day. He bought me a fifty-cent Galaxy bar as a gift, and a single carnation that they gave him for free at the supermarket. What am I complaining about? I don't care that he didn't spend a lot of money. I complain because, like most days, he didn't kiss me even once yesterday. He certainly did not hug me or hold me or touch me or say "I love you".
I'm still young enough to want these things. I'm still young enough to be unable to bear the idea that I must give them up forever.
"If affection holds you back
Then what is left to hold
If I could find the answer to that question
then I'd know
The thoughts that clutter up your mind
And leave me feeling drained
And walking pacing up the walls
Across the floor again
All the things I haven't seen
Once the final curtain has been raised
The act we act is wearing thin
The act we act is under my skin"
Monday, February 14, 2005
another boring post
I have elected to remove Haloscan and bring back Blogger comments now that Blogger allows comments in a pop-up window. Also I like the fact that Blogger will e-mail my comments to me- I could donate to Haloscan but that would alert my husband to the presence of this blog, and for obvious reasons I would rather he not know.
That's three posts in one day, maybe a record for me, and a record I am not likely to break anytime soon.
That's three posts in one day, maybe a record for me, and a record I am not likely to break anytime soon.
Valentine's
Just a short addendum to the previous entry.
Today is Valentine's Day. I had forgotten until just now. It might be best that way, because I am completely certain that, like every other holiday, it will be utterly ignored by the one who should be buying me flowers.
Last night he was angry becuase I wanted him to come to bed before he had much time to look at porn on his computer. I reminded him that many women would not tolerate his looking at porn at all, and that he should feel lucky that most nights he surfs the porn sites for hours without a word of complaint from me.
Often, I think that I would leave him if I had anywhere to go. He used to take the most beautiful pictures of me in erotic poses. Now that I am the mother of his child he does not have any interest in that. He would rather look at a million other anonymous women than pay attention to me.
"Do you think I know something you don't know
What do you want from me?
If I don't promise you the answers would you go
What do you want from me?
Should I stand out in the rain
Do you want me to make a daisy chain for you
I'm not the one you need...
What do you want from me?"
Today is Valentine's Day. I had forgotten until just now. It might be best that way, because I am completely certain that, like every other holiday, it will be utterly ignored by the one who should be buying me flowers.
Last night he was angry becuase I wanted him to come to bed before he had much time to look at porn on his computer. I reminded him that many women would not tolerate his looking at porn at all, and that he should feel lucky that most nights he surfs the porn sites for hours without a word of complaint from me.
Often, I think that I would leave him if I had anywhere to go. He used to take the most beautiful pictures of me in erotic poses. Now that I am the mother of his child he does not have any interest in that. He would rather look at a million other anonymous women than pay attention to me.
"Do you think I know something you don't know
What do you want from me?
If I don't promise you the answers would you go
What do you want from me?
Should I stand out in the rain
Do you want me to make a daisy chain for you
I'm not the one you need...
What do you want from me?"
Promise what you will
I guess I am talking to myself again, or maybe my few readers have nothing to say. It's a strange sensation, as my other, very public blog gets a minimum of five comments per entry, and often more. But never mind- I started this particular blog for me, and not out of the same narcissism that led me to start my other blog.
I got another e-mail from my sister in law, expressing concern because my brother told her that I would not communicate with her now that I know they are back together. I read it and then filed it away without responding. In a day or two she will write again to attack me viciously. I know it's coming, but that doesn't mean it will hurt me any less.
I went to the doctor this morning, and let him prescribe Xanax even though I know how addictive it is. I just cannot bear the level of anxiety I have lived with for this past month. I need something to ease it. I will try so carefully to take them as prescribed instead of constantly raising the dose so that I run out before the chemist will give me a refill.
I said, "Love is waiting
and better days"
He smiled and placed a kiss
on my waiting face
Promise what you will
something good for me
Time will take it all
and it will, you'll see
I got another e-mail from my sister in law, expressing concern because my brother told her that I would not communicate with her now that I know they are back together. I read it and then filed it away without responding. In a day or two she will write again to attack me viciously. I know it's coming, but that doesn't mean it will hurt me any less.
I went to the doctor this morning, and let him prescribe Xanax even though I know how addictive it is. I just cannot bear the level of anxiety I have lived with for this past month. I need something to ease it. I will try so carefully to take them as prescribed instead of constantly raising the dose so that I run out before the chemist will give me a refill.
I said, "Love is waiting
and better days"
He smiled and placed a kiss
on my waiting face
Promise what you will
something good for me
Time will take it all
and it will, you'll see
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Misguided Angel
I spent today keeping busy, but tonight I'm just trying to find that still silent place down deep inside, the place where I stop caring about what goes on outside and can be at peace with myself.
This is the place, deep within, where I cease to be the product of my abusive childhood, the place that is whole, not beaten down by my father's anger or my mother's shame or my brother's urges.
I wonder, when I grow old, what will I be to my own children? Will they hate me like I hate my mother? I think I am trying harder than my mother did to break the cycle. I want to believe that. I want to think I'm not as blind as she is.
I said "Mama, he’s crazy and he scares me
But I want him by my side
Though he’s wild and he’s bad
And sometimes just plain mad
I need him to keep me satisfied"
I said "Papa, don’t cry cause it’s alright
And I see you in some of his ways
Though he might not give me the life that you wanted,
I’ll love him the rest of my days"
Misguided angel hanging over me
Heart like a Gabriel, pure and white as ivory
Soul like a Lucifer, black and cold like a piece of lead
Misguided angel, love you ’til I’m dead
I said "Brother, you speak to me of passion
You said never to settle for nothing less
Well, it’s in the way he walks,
It’s in the way he talks
His smile, his anger and his kisses"
Misguided angel hangin’ over me
Heart like a Gabriel, pure and white as ivory
Soul like a Lucifer
Black and cold like a piece of lead
Misguided angel, love you ’til I’m dead
This is the place, deep within, where I cease to be the product of my abusive childhood, the place that is whole, not beaten down by my father's anger or my mother's shame or my brother's urges.
I wonder, when I grow old, what will I be to my own children? Will they hate me like I hate my mother? I think I am trying harder than my mother did to break the cycle. I want to believe that. I want to think I'm not as blind as she is.
I said "Mama, he’s crazy and he scares me
But I want him by my side
Though he’s wild and he’s bad
And sometimes just plain mad
I need him to keep me satisfied"
I said "Papa, don’t cry cause it’s alright
And I see you in some of his ways
Though he might not give me the life that you wanted,
I’ll love him the rest of my days"
Misguided angel hanging over me
Heart like a Gabriel, pure and white as ivory
Soul like a Lucifer, black and cold like a piece of lead
Misguided angel, love you ’til I’m dead
I said "Brother, you speak to me of passion
You said never to settle for nothing less
Well, it’s in the way he walks,
It’s in the way he talks
His smile, his anger and his kisses"
Misguided angel hangin’ over me
Heart like a Gabriel, pure and white as ivory
Soul like a Lucifer
Black and cold like a piece of lead
Misguided angel, love you ’til I’m dead
Friday, February 11, 2005
scream
Ever since I got the e-mail that I mentioned in the previous entry I've been feeling like I want to vomit. I know there's no way I will sleep tonight.
Of course, I got another e-mail from my sister-in-law this evening asking a bunch of questions about my daughter, which makes me even more nauseated. And I know this won't be the end of it. When she realizes that I am purposely ignoring her, she will lash out at me. I know her well enough to be completely certain of that.
What in God's name was I thinking when I responded to her in the first place? Why don't I ever learn?
I just want someone to comfort me. I can't talk to my husband... he will validate my feelings, of course, but he'll do it in such a way that my feelings will escalate instead of subsiding. I'm already spiralling out of control. I wish there was someone in this world who would just hold me and say "It'll be okay". That's all I want. Such a simple thing. Why does it always evade me?
Where were you when I was burned and broken
While the days slipped by from my window watching
Where were you when I was hurt and I was helpless
Because the things you say and the things you do surround me
While you were hanging yourself on someone else's words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun
Lost in thought and lost in time
While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistable pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the waiting had begun
And headed straight into the shining sun
Of course, I got another e-mail from my sister-in-law this evening asking a bunch of questions about my daughter, which makes me even more nauseated. And I know this won't be the end of it. When she realizes that I am purposely ignoring her, she will lash out at me. I know her well enough to be completely certain of that.
What in God's name was I thinking when I responded to her in the first place? Why don't I ever learn?
I just want someone to comfort me. I can't talk to my husband... he will validate my feelings, of course, but he'll do it in such a way that my feelings will escalate instead of subsiding. I'm already spiralling out of control. I wish there was someone in this world who would just hold me and say "It'll be okay". That's all I want. Such a simple thing. Why does it always evade me?
Where were you when I was burned and broken
While the days slipped by from my window watching
Where were you when I was hurt and I was helpless
Because the things you say and the things you do surround me
While you were hanging yourself on someone else's words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun
Lost in thought and lost in time
While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistable pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the waiting had begun
And headed straight into the shining sun
No!
I've been feeling on edge all day today, expecting bad news, but I was still surprised when bad news finally came.
A couple of weeks back, the ex-wife of my brother/rapist made contact with me via e-mail to let me know how she's doing these days. She seemed to have turned her life around, was off the speed, and was pregnant by her new boyfriend. I figured there was no harm in writing her back, since she was no longer connected with my family.
But today she wrote me back again. Apparently she's left her new boyfriend and moved back in with my brother. They are still off drugs as of today, but I know that won't last long. Better yet, she told me that my brother is once again being allowed unsupervised contact with his daughters, one of whom he also molested.
Why am I the only person on the planet who can see that this man is a monster? Why has everyone else forgiven him for what he's done? Do they really think that it was only the drugs that made him evil? He raped me before he ever started doing drugs. He's a pedophile and he will never change. Anyone who trusts him around children is blinding themselves.
I don't know how to come to terms with this. Obviously I will be having no more contact with my sister-in-law. I wish to God that I had not gotten that e-mail tonight telling me that my rapist is enjoying the good life and the love of family and friends while I continute to live in exile. I can't bear this. I just can't bear it.
A couple of weeks back, the ex-wife of my brother/rapist made contact with me via e-mail to let me know how she's doing these days. She seemed to have turned her life around, was off the speed, and was pregnant by her new boyfriend. I figured there was no harm in writing her back, since she was no longer connected with my family.
But today she wrote me back again. Apparently she's left her new boyfriend and moved back in with my brother. They are still off drugs as of today, but I know that won't last long. Better yet, she told me that my brother is once again being allowed unsupervised contact with his daughters, one of whom he also molested.
Why am I the only person on the planet who can see that this man is a monster? Why has everyone else forgiven him for what he's done? Do they really think that it was only the drugs that made him evil? He raped me before he ever started doing drugs. He's a pedophile and he will never change. Anyone who trusts him around children is blinding themselves.
I don't know how to come to terms with this. Obviously I will be having no more contact with my sister-in-law. I wish to God that I had not gotten that e-mail tonight telling me that my rapist is enjoying the good life and the love of family and friends while I continute to live in exile. I can't bear this. I just can't bear it.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Lion's Mane
I have issues with boundaries.
(I know, you're thinking: "No, really?")
I say "I love you" far too soon. All my life, all my adult life, anyway, I get entangled with people much too quickly. It's born of a desperate need in me, a need to latch on straight away and refuse to let go until that dead horse is beaten to a pulp.
My first husband- I married him four months after we met. Big mistake. My second husband- we waited two years to marry, but we got engaged less than three days after meeting- and at that point having known each other through the Internet only. Somehow that relationship is still maintaining. But he is much older than me, and I live in terror of the day he dies and leaves me alone.
Yes, I'm a freak. I am broken. I am completely messed up. I don't know how to fix this about me without ripping my life to shreds in the process.
Love is the scene I render
when you catch me wide awake
And love is the dream you enter
though I shake and shake and shake you
And love's the best endeavor
waiting in the lion's mane...
(I know, you're thinking: "No, really?")
I say "I love you" far too soon. All my life, all my adult life, anyway, I get entangled with people much too quickly. It's born of a desperate need in me, a need to latch on straight away and refuse to let go until that dead horse is beaten to a pulp.
My first husband- I married him four months after we met. Big mistake. My second husband- we waited two years to marry, but we got engaged less than three days after meeting- and at that point having known each other through the Internet only. Somehow that relationship is still maintaining. But he is much older than me, and I live in terror of the day he dies and leaves me alone.
Yes, I'm a freak. I am broken. I am completely messed up. I don't know how to fix this about me without ripping my life to shreds in the process.
Love is the scene I render
when you catch me wide awake
And love is the dream you enter
though I shake and shake and shake you
And love's the best endeavor
waiting in the lion's mane...
Joy and madness
I feel so much better today. The past week has been hellish, as my psychological wheels were spinning so fast that I couldn't keep up with them. But I knew I'd come around if I just waited it out.
I've been thinking about what sex really means to me. From childhood, I remember my mother giving lip service to the idea that sex was an expression of love, but that's not the way I see it after all that has happened to me. Sex is a means of control. Men use it to feel powerful, and women- at least women like me- often use it to "pay our way". In the beginning, I had sex because I wasn't given a choice in the matter, and because my abuser got high from stealing all my power.
But as I grew up, I had sex in exchange for money, sex in exchange for drugs, and nowadays it's usually sex in exchange for security. It's not that I don't enjoy it- I definitely do, even when I'm fully aware that I am whoring myself- but the physical pleasure could just as easily happen when I am alone, and the psychological pleasure comes from getting exactly what I wanted out of the deal.
But where is the love? Has love ever truly come into play for me when choosing a sexual partner? I'm a bit cynical- I think love is a choice, and even when you "fall" uncontrollably for someone, it's because that's what you have consciously or unconsciously decided to do. And relationships end because one partner has decided to stop choosing to love.
I ramble. I don't know. I feel like I am on the edge of some huge breakthrough that will change my life forever.
I've been thinking about what sex really means to me. From childhood, I remember my mother giving lip service to the idea that sex was an expression of love, but that's not the way I see it after all that has happened to me. Sex is a means of control. Men use it to feel powerful, and women- at least women like me- often use it to "pay our way". In the beginning, I had sex because I wasn't given a choice in the matter, and because my abuser got high from stealing all my power.
But as I grew up, I had sex in exchange for money, sex in exchange for drugs, and nowadays it's usually sex in exchange for security. It's not that I don't enjoy it- I definitely do, even when I'm fully aware that I am whoring myself- but the physical pleasure could just as easily happen when I am alone, and the psychological pleasure comes from getting exactly what I wanted out of the deal.
But where is the love? Has love ever truly come into play for me when choosing a sexual partner? I'm a bit cynical- I think love is a choice, and even when you "fall" uncontrollably for someone, it's because that's what you have consciously or unconsciously decided to do. And relationships end because one partner has decided to stop choosing to love.
I ramble. I don't know. I feel like I am on the edge of some huge breakthrough that will change my life forever.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Poles Apart
When I am hurt or upset, I shut down. I run away. I turn my back and refuse to listen.
This is something that has worked for me in the past, but maybe it's time to change, to open up. I want people to hear me, and to be heard you must first listen.
Break your silence. Open your heart. Share your dreams. Learn to love again.
Hey you...did you ever realise what you’d become
And did you see
that it wasn’t only me you were running from
Did you know all the time but it never bothered you anyway
Leading the blind while I stared out the steel in your eyes
The rain fell slow, down on all the roofs of uncertainty
I thought of you
and the years and all the sadness fell away from me
And did you know...
I never thought that you’d lose that light in your eyes
This is something that has worked for me in the past, but maybe it's time to change, to open up. I want people to hear me, and to be heard you must first listen.
Break your silence. Open your heart. Share your dreams. Learn to love again.
Hey you...did you ever realise what you’d become
And did you see
that it wasn’t only me you were running from
Did you know all the time but it never bothered you anyway
Leading the blind while I stared out the steel in your eyes
The rain fell slow, down on all the roofs of uncertainty
I thought of you
and the years and all the sadness fell away from me
And did you know...
I never thought that you’d lose that light in your eyes
Monday, February 07, 2005
Delerium of Disorder
Still struggling today, but maybe getting used to it, maybe I can somehow create order out of my own chaos.
It makes me smile when I read my comments, and I thank you, both the commenters and the silent readers, for coming here and listening to me. I am honoured by your presence. Since finding this little community of survivor blogs, I am so much less alone, I feel less like a complete lunatic, and I am encouraged by the fact that you all seem to be such beautiful, gentle, giving people.
Especially anonymous of This Long Lonely Walk. My friend, who I am too shy to say much to...I have discovered some truly eerie parallels between our lives whilst reading your blog, and your very existence comforts me, but at the same time it sends chills down my spine. I am glad you're here. I am glad to know you.
I am afraid to say too much about myself, as I want to speak freely here, which makes me feel as though I must hide my face. I am a person between. I was born in America, lived most of my life there. Now, though, I am somewhere else in the world, with no plans to go home again, not ever. I try to speak as though I belong in the country where I live now, but it's a mask, you see. It's something I wish I was, rather than who I truly am.
I have no contact with the adult members of my family. I have turned away from them completely. Yet I am a mother of two children, one very young and living with me, the other growing up too fast and living with his father. This is something that used to cause me great pain, but now I see that it was meant to be like this, it's better for us all this way. I hope he understands that, too.
More later, maybe.
In my rectory of doubt,
I kneel and pray like one devout,
As time- this great grey dreamless sleep of a useless modern God- erodes away
each storied day
As wretched Adams with hell to pay
Content upon a rail of pain for just a little rain.
And everything is dearly missed,
Blood relations and bricks,
My expression, my confession,
Add it up, extract a lesson more than this
Once again, like a bullet, as a friend,
Tell me
Can that be all there is?
It makes me smile when I read my comments, and I thank you, both the commenters and the silent readers, for coming here and listening to me. I am honoured by your presence. Since finding this little community of survivor blogs, I am so much less alone, I feel less like a complete lunatic, and I am encouraged by the fact that you all seem to be such beautiful, gentle, giving people.
Especially anonymous of This Long Lonely Walk. My friend, who I am too shy to say much to...I have discovered some truly eerie parallels between our lives whilst reading your blog, and your very existence comforts me, but at the same time it sends chills down my spine. I am glad you're here. I am glad to know you.
I am afraid to say too much about myself, as I want to speak freely here, which makes me feel as though I must hide my face. I am a person between. I was born in America, lived most of my life there. Now, though, I am somewhere else in the world, with no plans to go home again, not ever. I try to speak as though I belong in the country where I live now, but it's a mask, you see. It's something I wish I was, rather than who I truly am.
I have no contact with the adult members of my family. I have turned away from them completely. Yet I am a mother of two children, one very young and living with me, the other growing up too fast and living with his father. This is something that used to cause me great pain, but now I see that it was meant to be like this, it's better for us all this way. I hope he understands that, too.
More later, maybe.
In my rectory of doubt,
I kneel and pray like one devout,
As time- this great grey dreamless sleep of a useless modern God- erodes away
each storied day
As wretched Adams with hell to pay
Content upon a rail of pain for just a little rain.
And everything is dearly missed,
Blood relations and bricks,
My expression, my confession,
Add it up, extract a lesson more than this
Once again, like a bullet, as a friend,
Tell me
Can that be all there is?
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog. All the cool kids are doing it, so I had to as well.
Insane Ramblings
I haven't been well. I can't say what is wrong exactly... my paranoid brain says something is poisoning me, but it's probably just my thoughts. I've been feeling like I want to sit in a corner with my arms crossed over my chest, rocking and muttering to myself. Yet my brain is making connections at a rapid-fire rate, creating the most bizarre associations, and bringing me back full circle to the place where I began. I think that by the time I have come through this illness-inside-my-mind, I will be a little better than where I started.
I don't want to think about my family tonight, or what they did to me. I started this blog to talk about my unhealed inner child, I suppose, but right now she is sleeping an exhausted sleep, and I don't want to wake her until she has had enough rest to cope with what comes next.
I don't want to think about my family tonight, or what they did to me. I started this blog to talk about my unhealed inner child, I suppose, but right now she is sleeping an exhausted sleep, and I don't want to wake her until she has had enough rest to cope with what comes next.
stuck at three for days and days
When I can't come up with the words, I steal words from someone else.
She says it’s cold outside and she hands me my raincoat
She’s always worried about things like that
She says it’s all gonna end and it might as well be my fault
And she only sleeps when it’s raining
And she screams and her voice is straining
She says baby
It’s 3am I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well I can’t help but be scared of it all sometimes
Says the rain’s gonna wash away I believe it
She’s got a little bit of something, God it’s better than nothing
And in her color portrait world she believes that she’s got it all
She swears the moon don’t hang quite as high as it used to
And she only sleeps when it’s raining
And she screams
and her voice is straining
She says baby
It’s 3am I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well I can’t help but be scared of it all sometimes
Says the rain’s gonna wash away I believe it
She believes that life is made up of all that you’re used to
And the clock on the wall has been stuck at three for days, and days
She thinks that happiness is a mat that sits on her doorway
But outside it’s stopped raining
She says baby
It’s 3am I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well I can’t help but be scared of it all sometimes
Says the rain’s gonna wash away I believe it
She says it’s cold outside and she hands me my raincoat
She’s always worried about things like that
She says it’s all gonna end and it might as well be my fault
And she only sleeps when it’s raining
And she screams and her voice is straining
She says baby
It’s 3am I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well I can’t help but be scared of it all sometimes
Says the rain’s gonna wash away I believe it
She’s got a little bit of something, God it’s better than nothing
And in her color portrait world she believes that she’s got it all
She swears the moon don’t hang quite as high as it used to
And she only sleeps when it’s raining
And she screams
and her voice is straining
She says baby
It’s 3am I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well I can’t help but be scared of it all sometimes
Says the rain’s gonna wash away I believe it
She believes that life is made up of all that you’re used to
And the clock on the wall has been stuck at three for days, and days
She thinks that happiness is a mat that sits on her doorway
But outside it’s stopped raining
She says baby
It’s 3am I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well I can’t help but be scared of it all sometimes
Says the rain’s gonna wash away I believe it
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Bitter Suite
She was a wallflower at sixteen
She'll be a wallflower at thirty four
Her mother called her beautiful
Her daddy said, "A whore".
The sky was Bible black in Lyon
When I met the Magdalene
She was paralysed in a streetlight
She refused to give her name
And a ring of violet bruises
They were pinned upon her arm.
Two hundred francs for sanctuary and she led me by the hand
To a room of dancing shadows where all the heartache disappears
And from glowing tongues of candles I heard her whisper in my ear
"'J'entend ton coeur"
I can hear your heart
It's getting late, for scribbling and scratching on the paper
Something's gonna give under this pressure
And the cracks are already beginning to show
It's too late
The weekend career girl never boarded the plane
They said this could never happen again
So wrong, so wrong
This time it seems to be another misplaced rendezvous
This time, it's looking like another misplaced rendezvous
With you
The parallel of you, you
On the outskirts of nowhere
On the ringroad to somewhere
On the verge of indecision
I'll always take the roundabout way
Waiting on the rain
For I was born with a habit, from a sign
The habit of a windswept thumb
And the sign of the rain
It's started raining
She'll be a wallflower at thirty four
Her mother called her beautiful
Her daddy said, "A whore".
The sky was Bible black in Lyon
When I met the Magdalene
She was paralysed in a streetlight
She refused to give her name
And a ring of violet bruises
They were pinned upon her arm.
Two hundred francs for sanctuary and she led me by the hand
To a room of dancing shadows where all the heartache disappears
And from glowing tongues of candles I heard her whisper in my ear
"'J'entend ton coeur"
I can hear your heart
It's getting late, for scribbling and scratching on the paper
Something's gonna give under this pressure
And the cracks are already beginning to show
It's too late
The weekend career girl never boarded the plane
They said this could never happen again
So wrong, so wrong
This time it seems to be another misplaced rendezvous
This time, it's looking like another misplaced rendezvous
With you
The parallel of you, you
On the outskirts of nowhere
On the ringroad to somewhere
On the verge of indecision
I'll always take the roundabout way
Waiting on the rain
For I was born with a habit, from a sign
The habit of a windswept thumb
And the sign of the rain
It's started raining
Friday, February 04, 2005
spew
it's all pouring out of me like vomit. all coming out.
i had a dream last night, a dream about my brother, the one who used me and fucked me and took my innocence away when i was only a little girl.
i dreamed that i was with him and we were both shooting speed again, and tweaking out, gone days and days with no sleep, and he had gone into the psychotic paranoid place that is the only possible end of addiction to meth and i was trying to hold it all together, just like i always do.
he was crazy. we were in the car and he had something he wanted to hide, something that was his precious, like gollum in lord of the rings. he was driving and he was tweaking and the cops stopped us and took the thing away from him and he was insane. just insane.
and next thing, we were in the garage, and he was sitting on the floor, with a shotgun in his mouth and his brains were sprayed all over the wall.
and it was left for me to clean up that mess.
i can't do this. i am losing my mind. i am suffering so. is there anyone out there who understands this hell?
i want to keep on writing, the words i'm typing are the only thin barrier between me and complete insanity, but i want to publish this post too so someone will read it and i will not be alone.
there's more. i'm not even close to finished. hit that publish button, girly, it's just like that goddamn needle sliding into your vein, and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....
i am going crazy.
i had a dream last night, a dream about my brother, the one who used me and fucked me and took my innocence away when i was only a little girl.
i dreamed that i was with him and we were both shooting speed again, and tweaking out, gone days and days with no sleep, and he had gone into the psychotic paranoid place that is the only possible end of addiction to meth and i was trying to hold it all together, just like i always do.
he was crazy. we were in the car and he had something he wanted to hide, something that was his precious, like gollum in lord of the rings. he was driving and he was tweaking and the cops stopped us and took the thing away from him and he was insane. just insane.
and next thing, we were in the garage, and he was sitting on the floor, with a shotgun in his mouth and his brains were sprayed all over the wall.
and it was left for me to clean up that mess.
i can't do this. i am losing my mind. i am suffering so. is there anyone out there who understands this hell?
i want to keep on writing, the words i'm typing are the only thin barrier between me and complete insanity, but i want to publish this post too so someone will read it and i will not be alone.
there's more. i'm not even close to finished. hit that publish button, girly, it's just like that goddamn needle sliding into your vein, and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....
i am going crazy.
drowning
oh my god. my heart is broken. i cannot stop crying. i am such a miserable mess. i am so lonely. so alone. someone please help me. please. help. me.
Moment of Clarity
I have had a moment of clarity that is absolutely stunning.
I have realized that I can do nothing which is even mildly addictive without becoming desperately hooked.
My doctor prescribed me some lovely little tranquilizers a couple of weeks ago. I ran out of them three days ago, and now I am absolutely a mess. A complete and total fucked up, drug withdrawing mess. I don't understand how it could possibly have happened so quickly, but it happened. Again.
All I know is that this has got to stop. I am an addict. A junkie. Not just because of the two weeks on tranqs, but because of all my years of abusing drugs, of dropping one addiction and diving straight into the next one, from smoking joints behind the gym in high school, to shooting up speed in a cheap hotel room a few years back, to taking those sweet little Ativan that the doctor thought might help me to pull myself together not even a month ago.
If I continue down this road I will wind up either dead or insane. It has to stop right here and now.
I have realized that I can do nothing which is even mildly addictive without becoming desperately hooked.
My doctor prescribed me some lovely little tranquilizers a couple of weeks ago. I ran out of them three days ago, and now I am absolutely a mess. A complete and total fucked up, drug withdrawing mess. I don't understand how it could possibly have happened so quickly, but it happened. Again.
All I know is that this has got to stop. I am an addict. A junkie. Not just because of the two weeks on tranqs, but because of all my years of abusing drugs, of dropping one addiction and diving straight into the next one, from smoking joints behind the gym in high school, to shooting up speed in a cheap hotel room a few years back, to taking those sweet little Ativan that the doctor thought might help me to pull myself together not even a month ago.
If I continue down this road I will wind up either dead or insane. It has to stop right here and now.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Shattered Faith
Right now, the thing I am struggling hardest with is a loss of faith.
I've been through so much in my life. I was abused in my younger years, bullied mercilessly throughout my teens, abandoned by my family as an adult. I have lost a child and survived a divorce. I have battled with addiction to many different substances, I have been homeless and without friends, attempted suicide, spent time in a mental hospital more than once. I have been been beaten and broken in nearly every way that a human can be. But through it all, I had a spark inside, I had a belief that there was Someone out there who was looking out for me, and that it all had to happen like this for a reason, and that it would all turn out okay in the end.
And then, it started this past autumn- the creeping, terrifying realization that maybe the world is so fucked up because there is no god at all. Recently this darkness has taken my soul over completely. With world events in the past three months, the destruction inside me has become complete. I cannot feel god anymore. I cannot feel any rhyme or reason anymore. And this is the most painful, frightening, ugly reality I have ever had to live through. This is the worst thing- everything else pales by comparison. This is so big, so deep, that I am being completely consumed and drowned and shattered.
I don't know how I can ever be at peace again. I know that's a crazy thing to say, when I have never really been at peace before. But right now my life is finally stable, and I have every reason in the world to be happy, and for a year or so I was happy, for the first time in my life.
But now I am in Hell. I try to pray, and I feel like nobody is listening. And even worse, I am starting to believe that, when we die, we just stop. There is nothing to look forward to. Literally nothing. And the pain and fear this brings me is worst than my darkest nightmare.
I feel frantic inside. I want to go around shaking people by the shoulders, asking them how they can believe in god, how they can believe in an afterlife, hoping that someone will say something that I have not heard before, that someone will hand me a bit of wisdom or magic that will allow me to believe again. But it's not happening. Nobody can tell me anything new. And I fear that this, finally, is the thing that will break me and leave me completely incoherent and insane.
When you lose your faith, how can you have anything left at all?
I've been through so much in my life. I was abused in my younger years, bullied mercilessly throughout my teens, abandoned by my family as an adult. I have lost a child and survived a divorce. I have battled with addiction to many different substances, I have been homeless and without friends, attempted suicide, spent time in a mental hospital more than once. I have been been beaten and broken in nearly every way that a human can be. But through it all, I had a spark inside, I had a belief that there was Someone out there who was looking out for me, and that it all had to happen like this for a reason, and that it would all turn out okay in the end.
And then, it started this past autumn- the creeping, terrifying realization that maybe the world is so fucked up because there is no god at all. Recently this darkness has taken my soul over completely. With world events in the past three months, the destruction inside me has become complete. I cannot feel god anymore. I cannot feel any rhyme or reason anymore. And this is the most painful, frightening, ugly reality I have ever had to live through. This is the worst thing- everything else pales by comparison. This is so big, so deep, that I am being completely consumed and drowned and shattered.
I don't know how I can ever be at peace again. I know that's a crazy thing to say, when I have never really been at peace before. But right now my life is finally stable, and I have every reason in the world to be happy, and for a year or so I was happy, for the first time in my life.
But now I am in Hell. I try to pray, and I feel like nobody is listening. And even worse, I am starting to believe that, when we die, we just stop. There is nothing to look forward to. Literally nothing. And the pain and fear this brings me is worst than my darkest nightmare.
I feel frantic inside. I want to go around shaking people by the shoulders, asking them how they can believe in god, how they can believe in an afterlife, hoping that someone will say something that I have not heard before, that someone will hand me a bit of wisdom or magic that will allow me to believe again. But it's not happening. Nobody can tell me anything new. And I fear that this, finally, is the thing that will break me and leave me completely incoherent and insane.
When you lose your faith, how can you have anything left at all?
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