Some days I am afraid that my grief will consume me. I fear that I may never recover from this pain. I keep trying to be normal… (whatever that means) but all I manage to do is to kill my heart – and hurt the heart I most desire to bring pleasure to. I keep striving for some sense of … what?… peace? healing? wholeness? normalcy? I don’t know. I just know I am in so much pain… every day… My heart feels like it is a mangled, half-dead thing, barely beating in my breast. I don’t know exactly how to feel all of this. I don’t know how to be in this much pain. I don’t know how to be this broken. I do know that I am tired of trying to be whole. I am tired of trying to be a girl who knows happiness. I was raped. I was abused. I was ignored. I was hurt. I was molested. I was made to feel as though I was garbage and that I did not matter at all. This does not define me. It was not my fault. I do not need to apologize for these things, and I deserve to feel. I deserve to feel the weight of my past without feeling like I am making the people around me uncomfortable. My pain does not make me a bad person. My flash-backs do not make me crazy. My fear does not have to consume me. I am not what I survived. My past matters. The defense mechanisms that I developed to survive deserve to be honored – but they are no longer needed. I am safe now and I will never be back where I was. I am worth grieving. This will not last forever. One day I will breathe again.
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We went hiking at Amelia Island a few days ago… the weather was lovely and I had a great time feeding seagulls and trying to catch Ghost Crabs. Thought I would share a few of my favorite snaps…
I have missed this… my blog was my oasis…my journal… my relief… but I sadly had broken my last laptop and could not afford another one. The one I am writing on right now was a lovely gift from a co-worker. I feel so lucky and so very blessed. I have missed this. I have missed having access to my blog. I have also missed having access to my photography and editing software. It really does feel good to have it back! I thought I would share a few photos to celebrate.
How do we cope? How do we deal? How do we ‘get over it?’ How do we get through this? When you’ve been raped how do you get on with life? What does ‘getting on with life’ even look like? We study, we read, we become experts in body language, we become invisible, we become smarter, harder, distant… some see us as cold…
I studied… I studied psychology, psychopathology, maladaptive coping mechanisms, anxiety, depression… I watched people, studied body language, facial expressions… I got to the point when I was aware of my surroundings at all times… I kept my back to the wall, knew where the exits were, listened to everyone in the room.
After many years I am finding my peace again, finding my center, leaning on God, learning to pray & trust and that it is ok to hope again. I want to help others now. I want to reach out and share my story… I want it to matter. I want the things I’ve seen & survived to make a difference… desperate to make a difference. I am desperate to have my pain mean something…
My husband and I went hiking at Fort Clinch State Park last weekend. The weather was lovely and the park was (as usual) breath-taking. I really enjoy hiking along the beach here – we always see wild-life of one kind or another. I hope you enjoy the photos!
Isn’t it sad how we’re being constantly bombarded by calls to exclusivity – to be elite – to be special – to be one of the FEW… It really annoys me – hence the following rant:
Can we all stop posting stupid facebook/tumblr/pinterest posts like: 32 Things only fans of ______ will understand — 12 Things only True Disney fans will find funny —- 16 Things only _____ type of people will get…. UGH…. Please – STOP. Why this constant need to feel special? Why the constant cry for validation?
Oh and don’t get me started on these things that keep popping up on Facebook – going viral — Pictures of disabled girls/boys with the call to re-post – ignore if you have no heart… did you ever think that may be considered bullying – maybe the rest of us just don’t want to be pushed around…
(grumble)
I can feel it again… that tightness in my chest…
the tears, the throat so tight I cannot swallow.
Grief fills my lungs with cries I will not utter.
I feel the pull… the desire to be “ok”
the desire to bury this pain and pretend
that I am not in agony…
I feel it again… this drowning
all-consuming tidal wave swelling
toward me… so much pain… and I stand
on the open beach… arms out-stretched…
do your worst.
Haunted by memories I grasp for you and quickly push you away.
I cannot stomach this closeness yet I desire your touch – crave it – NEED it…
Fear arises as the brush of your hand resurrects ghosts thought long exorcised…
My body trembles, haunted by the abuse that still lives in my skin and in my breast, beating like a second heart.
It is chaos here… shouts, whispers, whimpers, cries…
Locked in the asylum of my mind.
captivatingbitter 