Tortured memories, and painful musings.

I feel like an echo of a ghost who has haunted this realm too long. How many years does one sit with this pain and depression before they finally give up? So many long nights suffered through. Still so many more to go My therpist tells me I should reach out and talk to my friends about my trauama, says it would be good for my mental health to have a support system. A support system for me? I have always been the system for everyone else. some folks come to me with thier problems and pain, and I try to be there for them as much as I can. Shove your ledge against mine and we both can have a stable plateform to stand on together. Thats my motto when I encounter another depressed soul struggling with thier demons too. I help friends and strangers because I know what it feels like to be on that ledge contemplating suicide, staring into the void as it screams your name, promising a peace that never comes because you know better then to take that plunge into the abyess. My earliest memories are of being raped by my father, of being forced to give him BJs on command if I wanted to eat food, and being drugged and touched inapproperatly all through my childhood. I grew up in a home where saying no to sexual contact was not allowed. I was starved if I resisted, didn't preform to his satification or tried to resist in anyway. Most days I'd rather starve with my dignity then give him what he wanted, esp after mom left him. So many nights I was forced to cook dinner, but never allowed to join the family and eat. I was sent to my room instead. April would sneak me some when she could, and on many days I'd steal change from his dresser and walk to the store just to buy something to eat. It got so bad he even counted the bread daily so I couldn't even sneak toast at 2 am anymore. He had a VHS camera from the early 90s onward that he set up on a tripod in the bedroom, always pointed to the bed. He always lied and reassured me it was off, but I knew what the blinking red light on it meant. He recoreded literally hundreds of tapes by the time I was a teen. I was raped over 1000 times before I hit 10 years old by him. I grew to have nigtmares about what he did, and I hated the camera with its blinking red light. Despite loving photography as a kid, I hated being recorded and photographed by him, then at all. I sometimes wonder if he still has the evidence of the abuse he inflicted upon me and my sister in those tapes, and how many other little girls he recorded himself with over the years. My silence bought him access to who knows how many other victums over the years. that thought haunts me as an adult. The abuse got so much worse after I tried to confide in my mother and got the beating of a lifetime from her in response. She treated me like a full grown adult who was bragging about stealing her husand instead of a scared, tramatised child begging for help. I was only 8, and after she finished using me as a punching bag, she called his work and threatend Jeff with a firing squad. I honestly believed back then that mom would force me to join him in that punishment. He came home and of course denied everything. Called me disturbed and claimed I was making up viscious stories. Those lies hurt evey bit as much as the beating I endured. To this day I wish I'd just played a video tape for mom, or just taken a backpack full of them to the cop that lived by the school with the K9 unit. She took me and left that night after their fight. I felt such a sense of relief while we where driving down that highway. My mom was my hero, and I remember feeling hopeful the abuse would finaly end. We got all the way to the sign that reads Portage 72 miles before she suddenly pulled over, looked at me for a long moment, and turned the car around. The moment she pulled that U turn and started driving back, something deep within me completely shattered as I realized there would be no escaping this hellscape. I lost all hope as I starred outisde the window that night. I wish she had called the police instead of choosing silence, then six years of abandonment. Six long years of sexual slavery that could have been prevented with one single fucking phone call. that night had a profound effect on the rest of my childhood. I never managed to find the courage to try to tell on him again until I turned 22 and moved out on my own. I expected to be beaten again for it, or worse if anyone found out afterwards. She left when I was 9, nearly a year after that brutal night. I remember crying and begging her to take us with her, but mom refused and left us there. Honestly, I expected her to at least take April, her favorite. I broke down sobbing as I watched her drive away. I was holding my cabbage patch doll in my room trying to console myself later when he walked in and told me that with mom gone, I had to take over for the house and children now. He said that I was going to be his wife from now on. TO his 9 year old daughter. I remmeber wondering what in the hell being a wife even meant, but I found out his defination all too soon. I wasn't a wife back then. I wasn't even his duaghter in his mind. I was just a slave in his mind. I just didn't know it back then. It makes me sick to think about it. Things changed drastically from that day on, and my punishments became more brutal and often. The childcare, cleaning the house, and cooking meals where on me 100% of the time. He literally meant I was his wife in every sense of the word, including sexually. I didn't go outside much after that. Sometimes he'd come home and hit me just because he had a bad day from work. The food I cooked I wasn't allowed to eat more often then not. I was always hungry, always exhausted and weak. He'd give me no food, then give me those dreaded screw drivers to drug me. I would watch him mix some kind of pills into the drinks he'd give me. I hated drinking them and the funny feeling I got after. I grew to hate him, myself, and life in general that year. I think that's when the PTSD, depression and suicidal idealation started to form in my mind, althrough it would be years before I had a name for it. I just knew I was depressed and wanted the abuse of my body and the pain, and life in general to end. After mom left, there was no one there for him to hide it from anymore, and he got so much worse. The rate of being raped, beaten and starved tripled. He'd give the siblings money to go out to the pool, the movies, or just to the park, and I'd be locked up in his room with that dreaded camera and his sexual demands. If I refused or managed to fend him off, he'd wake me up in my bed and rape me there. Other nights he'd carry me to his bed and force me to stay there until he fell asleep and I could finally sneak away from him and go puke and cry in the bathroom before going back to my own room. I barely sleep through the night the entire time I lived with him. I hated being treated like a wife and woken up in the middle of the night for sex. That may be why I don't want to get married to this day. He really fucked up my views on marriage and relationships in general for a really long time. To this day the thought of marriage terrifies me and reminds me of serving a prison sentence. And watching so many other family members and friends marrriages fail over the years has done nothing to fix it. I'm so utterly and completely exhasuted. Old memories are tormenting me bad tonight. Just once, I want to know peace that lasts longer then the duration of a hug from friends. I desperately need a long cuddle tonight.

Falling apart on the inside

I feel so hopeless nowadays. I don't look foward to anything anymore. I don't even want to live through this year. I just want to wake up in 2027 with a healed back and face. Do fractures ever really heal, or am I just going to forever feel this constant pain and pressure on my spine and this new uncomfortable burning senation on my face? I'm so over it all. Over life in genreal. I can barely force myself to go through the motions anymore. I can't focus on any of my crafts and projects or hobbies. Gaming feels hollow, and talking to the therpist just feels so pointless. Nothing I do feels like it matters anymore. I don't matter. Why does anyone even care about me? I'm just an echo of who i used to be. I'm drowning under an icy sea of dispair and despression. I lost my hope in my own future, and wake up every single day and try anyway. I can't talk to my frineds about it. They have thier own problems. Im just a burden, and I don't feel like I'm worth the effort to even save anymore. I feel so worthless and I wonder why any of my friends even care about me at all. Why they think I even matter when I can't see any worth in my life. I feel like an utter waste of space who'd be better off dead. A mistake that never should have been born. Even as I think that I know its maladaptive and untrue but I can't stop the intrusive thoughts from forming in the back of my mind. Every single day I wake up and tears fill my eyes that I have to fight off over and over. Intrusive throughts are winning tonight as my demons scream thier pain into the void. Is this life even worth living anymore? Why the fuck didn't that accident just kill me? Life is getting so hard and I just see no end to the eternal suffering. what the hell happened to me on the inside this time? I'm just a lone wolf ghost haunting the world, filtering in and out of peoples lives here and there. I don't belong anywhere. I never did. I feel more tolerated then wanted anymore. I handled it so much better before it become this crippling depression. Now I don't feel like I'm handling it at all. I'm broken inside and out and there's no fxing this pain and constant pressure. I desperately need a long hug from someone who will just hold me and let me feel safe for a few minutes. Its humilating that I even feel like this, but I just want to stop suffering. I am not having a good time at all over here. I'm struggling so hard to summon the strenght and courage to keep pushing through day after day when all I want is to just give up entirely.

Insomnia making rounds.

oh god i cant afford this mental breakdown right now. im terrified of the future and how we are going to get through this long recovery. I have never felt this utterly hopeless before. ive always been hyper independent. not even by choice but because i was forced to be my entire life. now Im the one who needs help and content daily assistances. without my brace im terrified to move or get up by myself and i cant put the damn thing on myself. that loss of strength, independence and vitality is sicking. I've never felt this weak and hopeless. being financially and physicaly dependent on someone else is a humilating experience, esp knowing he doesn't make enough to cover even half the bills i paid. I can't even work and support myself. I'm worthless and can't even mow my own lawn, or pick anything off the ground without assistance. im so over this entire year already. i just want to skip straight to 2027 and be healed. I wish the accident had never happened at all. I never wanted a broken back and now I'm living with it for the rest of my life. I can't even process it right now. I wish I could talk to someone but I don't know even know who to call who would put up with me and this hopeless frustation that I'm feeling right now that I can't even contain within myself anymore. I can't handle it right now, how can i expect anyone else to put up with me and this depression and hopelessness? who would even want to? No one deserves to have to deal with me. Am I even worth it? this pain feels like razor blades cutting up my spine constantly. It doesnt matter if i rest or am active all day. its difficult to fall asleep at night and there are so many I dont even try. I've never felt this weak and exhausted before. I hate the pain and sensation of razor blades slicing up and down my spine with every movement. I wans to to back in time to before the accident and never have it. My back and my entire life is ruined

Dealing w the demons

I'm kinda just been feeling dead on the inside, and i'm finding it harder to hide. I can't even keep faking these smiles anymore. I keep drifting in and out of time. So many memories i simply want to hide away in the darkest recesses of my mind. I have been so broken on the inside for so long. so isolated and alone w my internal struggles. I was always the person other people came to. who can I even talk to that I wont trigger with my issues? Everyone I know struggles with their own pain. I dont want to add mine to it. im broken inside and out now. i always feared my next accident would break my back. my worst fears came true this week. i can not believe i wreaked my Mustang. i loved that car, even with its issues. Im so scared. my life has completely changed and reset itself overnight. i just caught up financially and was feeling secure agian too. i should never have let that Trustage policy expire. i shoild have reinstated it and now its too late. how do i keep paying the bills? how do i manage my own home now? im overwheled and cant even vent to my friends about it. so much pressure is building in my head. everything Ive built is oiterally crumbling around me. i am not handling this well at all. its getting so bad again. i need to let someone in or im going to go insane. these have to be some of the worst burning times ive found myself going through in a long time. how do i even begin to figure out how deal with this? by the gods. i need help.

Poisoned silence

I just realized why i shut down and never talked about what happened to me. i was afraid if anyone confronted him he would come back and do something worse. silence felt safer. it was protection. I lost my own confidence and trust in my own preceptions of everyone else around me. i quit trusting my own judgement of people. Hell i even tried to push Brice away. He dealt with way too much shit and still tried to find ways to build safe intimacy and connection between us that i was comfortable with during our hell year, once he figured out i was actually injured and reacting to pain and not just being a frigid bitch. i gotta learn to trust myself and others again. brice said i could have told him. i couldnt even react the day it happened or any other for months afterwards. I've just been dispondant and profoundly depressed. the scream in the shower i never explained to brice was the first time I could even voice any reaction to it. something inside my head simply fractured that day. Hell, I desperately wanted to pretend it never happened at all. its taking so long to actually heal becasue i threw everything on ice and refused to acknowledge or deal with it until it boiled over this summer. Some pain is just impossible to hide away inside your mind, no matter how hard you want to try. Brice said staying silent about the attack is why Im so messed up and hurt now. i think hes right. I never intended to ever tell anyone about Davis's attack. i wanted it to simply fade into oblivion, but secrects dont stay that way forever. Eventually, they come to light. Im sick of staying silent and not processing everything that happened to me. I want to finally heal, and remember what it feels like to not walk around feeling dead inside all the time. talking to Walls might have opened up a dam I sealed years ago and wasnt prepared to burst back open. I haven't been living my life lately. I've just been surviving and getting to the next sunset every day. I'm exhausted from every facet of my soul and I don't want to live like this anymore. The cuts don't relase the pressure like they used to.

Reflection

its a rare day that I need to blog and Im not sure which topic to even focus on first. this may just be random mutterings with very little focus to simply sooth my own mind so I can get things off my chest. Trying to talk about it is just making people uncomfortable and I need to stop. I dont like thinking about the past, or the summer of 2019 but i really need to force myself to if I am ever going to actually move past it and develop healthy relationships now and in the future with other folk. I'm trying to socialize and trust others again, but its so difficult. I dont want to keep losing friends and relationships over my mental health problems. i feel like I am getting toxic to be around while ive been dealing with this, esp with some of the things my bf has been saying. im seeing the behvaiors hes pointing out as i think about it and its making me real self conscious around everyone and completely insecure. i need to start letting go and moving on. My past is starting to eat me alive. Reflecting back on my childhood as an adult makes me realize that my entire childhood was completely unhinged, and it literally taught me to allow my boundaries being broken way more then i ever should have, and led me to ignore red flags in others until it was too late. I need to stop letting it haunt me. My biggest regret is freezing up and not calling the cops back then, or telling someone else w a clear head at the time. My mind simply fractured and I disovled into myself. Thats something Im gonna have to learn to accept and live with. i didnt want to make it "real" by voicing it. hell back then I couldnt even say the words without losing time and dissociating. I accidently broke the dam Id firmly built up around these issues and really wasnt ready for the sheer surge of emotions, intrusive thoughts, and fears that crashed over me so abruptly. Im struggling for air inside but I'm still want to reclaim my mental peace. i need to go back to suffering in silence. opening up might do more harm then good anymore.

Monsters

How long does one have to sit with pain before it finally resolves itself, or is some just completely lifelong. Memories I throught I'd gotten past bother me again tonight. Trying to sleep but already feeling like a failure. Why does this month torture me so badly? Why today in particular? SO much pain the body remmbers that the mind so desperately wishes it could forget.