So many unspoken words…
I refuse to let them haunt me.
I don’t know what to say here
I have no comfort to offer…
this pain is overwhelming.
Numbness would be nice.
Tag Archive: healing
I felt the temptation to cut again yesterday stronger than I have in years. It’s so frustrating… I thought I was past this… Some days the pain is just too much and I want some relief. The thought of a sharp blade was so comforting and alluring…like a siren’s song. I don’t want to go down this path again. I decide my future, and my future is not drowned in numbness-walking through life like a zombie. I want to feel and be alive and real. I want a life of honestly dealing with my emotions not running from them to booze or blade or drugs or sex or danger. I want to breathe in every second of this precious life – even the parts that are painful or frustrating. I want to be alive. Please, God, help me…
She is fierce – eyes blazing
daring the world
to come closer.
She is confident and untouchable
a Norse goddess
destined for Valhalla.
She is expert at battle strategy
and can defend anyone
defeat any foe.
She rescued me.
She became me
She hates me.
I smile politely at you
and let you assume I agree.
In reality I am fuming
at your words.
I hide behind good manners
never letting you see the discord.
I don’t know you anymore
-don’t think I ever did.
It’s all smoke & mirrors anyway
this thing called friendship.
Calmly I offer you
pieces of my heart,
tenderly chosen-
which you accept
with a smile
then toss away,
crumpled.
Just another piece
of unwanted garbage-
for which you spare
no thought.
I used to be a self-mutilator. I don’t know why that is so hard for me to admit to when I have no problem talking openly about my abuse… it seems silly to me that I can tell someone that I was abused and raped but ignore the effects it had on me. I had over 60 scars on my body from cutting at one time… many of which are completely healed over. I cut for many reasons… mostly to escape the pain that tormented me daily… sometimes to escape the utter numbness that was the only alternative I had to the pain.
Now I seek a healthier alternative… I allow myself to feel the pain and to process the anger. I allow myself to be broken and in that find surcease. I look at my scars now and do not feel shamed by them, rather, I feel honored. Honored that I survived this and I can survive still.
I wish I could snap my fingers and get over this… I wish the world would suddenly make sense. I am haunted by ghosts of my past. Just when I think I am making progress they pop up and frighten me again. I am in the Minotar’s Labrynth stalked by something terrible and unseen. In Medusa’s Lair… with the whispers and hisses at my back that vanish when I turn my head. Constantly seeking a foe I cannot see. How can I possibly defeat my enemy and escape? I fear I will not survive this.
In a torrrid sea of faces
and voices
I cling to you.
Fighting violently
I resist the pull
of my old life…
of lies and pretending
of repression and unspoken violence.
I don’t want this anymore.
I crave peace,
unending.
So today I figtht
so that tomorrow
I may heal.
3-20-11
The lioness
stalking
cricling, growling
menacing
biting
tearing, rending
shredding
eating
swallowing up
my soul
and passing
stealthily
into the night.
Talking to my mom today sent me into a tail-spin. I hate that I am so afraid of being “found out” like I am doing something wrong and have something to hide… I hate that just speaking to my family on the phone has the power to make me doubt my past and begin to see it through their eyes. I came from a family of “brush it under the rug”. They are great at pretending that everything is ok and we’re not really broken in the extreme. Most of my life my dad yelled and screamed and belittled all of us and my mom just took it and let us take it.
I remember one night when I was a little girl, my parents had put me to bed. I got up to get a teddy bear off my shelf to sleep with and had curled up in bed and was just drifting off to sleep when my dad burst into my room, angry. He asked me if I had gotten out of bed and I told him I had gotten up to get a bear to sleep with. He asked me if I had left the room and I hadn’t. He then accused me of sneaking out of my room to watch through the cracked door as my brother changed clothes. He was crazy angry and accused me of lieing when I denied this. He beat me with a belt so badly I had whelps from the backs of my knees to the small of my back. He was in a blind rage. My mother came in afterword to ask me if I had done this and I told her the same thing I told my father. She told me it would make things better if I apologized to my father and just said that I had done this thing he accused me of. So I did and my dad pulled me into his lap and hugged me and told me he loved me. I don’t even know why, to this day, he would think I would be watching my brother dress or undress or why it would have been a big deal as we were both very young… I was about 6 and my brother was about 9-10.
When I was a teenager I confronted my parents about this and they both denied the whole thing and told me I must have imagined it. My whole life they have managed to make me feel crazy… Now I just want to live in truth and not brush anything else under the rug. I am through pretending. I long to walk in the sunshine and feel the warmth on my skin. I long to live in truth. I may not be perky and happy all the time, but I am real and alive, and that is so much better to me.
captivatingbitter 