Love

“Abused children receive confusing messages about sex and love, trust and betrayal. The abuser often says, “I’m doing this because I love you,” and then proceeds to hurt the child. The child learns she can’t trust the people she loves, and that she doesn’t have a choice about being close to someone else; people take what they want, regardless. Love becomes a dangerous force, wrought with confusion, pain, and violation.” Allies in Healing by Laura Davis

These are some random compilations of a "journal" entry I made just about a year ago...some of the feelings are the same, some have changed and improved.

Is it really that hard to believe that I am alive right now? I am not fully alive. I feel dead. I feel so fragmented. I feel empty...but not all the time. I've said it before, though, that the "sometimes feeling okay" is worse. It's a tease. "I know why the caged bird sings"..."Just as a bird that flies about and beats itself against the cage, finding at last no passage out it sits and sings and so overcomes its rage." ....I touch no one and no one touches me. I am a rock. I am an island. A rock feels no pain, and an island never cries....In order for me to be "normal" I would have to do things to people that I don't want to do and it's all just a vicious cycle. Because it's "normal" and "healthy" and that's what makes me a waste. Because I chose not to be promiscuous...I was told I was a waste of a vagina... as if that was my only use, my only purpose was for other people's use. Kindness and gentleness is an illusion. Fairytale love is a lie. Love is dirty. Love is painful. Love is shame. Love makes you cry. Love makes you feel worthless. Love makes you feel scared and confused. Love is forced. Love is meaningless. Love makes you want to hide. Love makes you want to be alone. Love makes you feel sick. Nobody will ever "love" me again....

Nobody has shown me what love really means.

Poems

"Incested.

She learned real young in life, in order to get by she must do what is expected and never question why...
It didn't seem to matter how she felt- or why she cried... Each time she was Incested more child-likeness died...
Too young to understand why she deserved the thing-she buried her emotions and the torture it would bring.
He said that she must never tell another living soul- too small to know the reason, yet...she knew...she wasn't whole.
She felt it was imprinted for all the world to see- I am dirty, I am ugly, please.. Don't look at me.
She'd never heard of incest yet she knew its symptoms well... The harder that she tried, it seemed, the harder then she fell...
She knew she was responsible for everybody's pain- so she tried hard to fix it over... And over...again."

-unknown

"A Choice"

She had no choice when she was little,
She thought she must obey
She wanted it all to stop
But she did not see a way

Like a lamb to the slaughter
Over and over again
She felt so very helpless--
When would it ever end?

Was life supposed to hurt so much?
What had she done wrong--
To deserve to be used like this?
She thought on it hard and long

If she could only figure out
The reason she was so "bad"
Maybe she could make it all stop
It was the only hope she had

But no matter how good she was,
No matter how hard she tried,
The nightmare went on and on--
And something in her died

"There is no hope for me," she thought
"I guess I'm just too bad"--
And so day followed weary day
For a child who was always sad

Eventually it did all end,
This killing of her soul--
But by then it hardly mattered
She would never be whole

She blocked it all from her mind
But it shaped her whole life
She grew up not understanding
This pain that cut like a knife

Then one day it all came flooding back
It was almost too much to take--
After trying to deny it, she had to admit,
There was no way it could be fake

But, accepting it and dealing with it
Are two very different things
And it would be years before she started
The journey that healing brings

This is, of course, MY story,
That little girl was me--
I was the one who had no choice,
Only the longing to be free

Now I struggle on day by day,
I have a worthy goal--
To overcome the abuse of my past
To someday, somehow, be whole

There are many obstacles to deal with
And the way grows very long,
But as I face each new step
I find I have grown strong

Hope wells up within me--
I believe this can be done
Standing tall, I take a deep breath
And turn my face in to the sun

No longer a child, now I have a choice
And no one can take that away--
I am no longer helplessly obedient
To healing, I am finding a way.

- Author Unknown...but I love it.

Little girl

Little girl with long blond hair
hides in her room again tonight.
Another long day has come to an end,
maybe this time she'll get it right.
Her desperate prayers have got to be wrong.
His answers shouldn't take this long.
She dials His number and recites the words,
...nobody ever seems to be home.
She looks out the window and checks the sky
...the lights are on but nobody answers the phone.
So she fixes her nightgown and crawls back into bed,
she straightens her blankets and lays down her head.
This little girl with long blond hair
will wait another night for someone to care.

Blond haired girl with eyes of gray
wakes up alone, just another day.
She goes through the motions like the day before
never thinking there might be something more.
This life of hers is as good as it gets
she "should be grateful and have no regrets."
But the pain inside just grows and grows
This poor girl hurts and nobody knows...

...it won't stop hurting. I can't make it go away. I can't stop crying on this miserable day. I keep on praying, but it doesn't help at all. I can't last much longer. Who will notice my fall? I'm screaming inside, but no one can hear. I'm dying inside, all I feel is fear. I'm so tired of always feeling cold. I'm sick of not having a hand to hold. I'm sick and tired of coming in second place. I hate closing my eyes and seeing your face. Everyone seems too busy to care. It's not like I expect them to notice or share, but why can't they look? Why don't they see that I am not who I am pretending to be. So many tears still roll down my face, leaving behind only but a trace, of many painful memories that can never be erased...

She writes these words in a desperate plea, hoping to God that someone might see.

Another tearful night but she doesn't muffle her cries
praying the Lord will take her soul when she dies.
The blond haired girl is little no more.
Looking back makes her sick, sick to her core.

...Sometimes the hurting subsides, but it never goes away. It only perpetuates the cycle that I believe will always stay. I'm so afraid to cry, to believe, admit, or even ask why. So I just doubt, second guess, and justify all of the confusion I feel inside...

In case you haven't noticed, if you don't see,
this poem is a story all about me.

...I have a secret that nobody knows
shhhh! Should I tell? This is how it goes:
Everything I am is a happy cliche--big smiles, endless laughter
but that's only today. What happens behind closed doors? When the world gets in the way?
There's no point in screaming...nobody hears you anyway.

Raindrops on my windshield are the tears I cannot cry.
Loneliness surrounds me while life passes by.
Dreaming comes so easily because it's all that I've known.
Truth is a fairytale. I'm scared and I'm alone.
My darkest days are behind me, still nothing seems quite right,
as I sort my lost emotions on this long and sleepless night.
I know it's not just me who feels horrible inside.
I'm exhausted from always trying to expose these things I hide.
Yet, it's all just temporary--these things I do and say.
Maybe soon I will be able to heal.
Starting today...

~SS
written September 2010

I'm learning...

After awhile you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul. And you learn that love doesn't mean possession and company doesn't mean security. And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts, and presents aren't promises. And you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes ahead with the grace of an adult not the grief of a child. You learn to build your roads today because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans, and that futures have ways of falling down in mid-flight. After awhile you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much. So plant your own garden and decorate your own soul instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure, that you really are strong, you really do have worth; and you learn.
   ©1971 Veronica A. Shoffstall 

Pain

All I can think of is I’m glad I didn’t do it. I was so close but just couldn’t go through with it. After that I thought I was weak; too scared to take my life. But still no one even noticed that I had a problem. Everyone simply looked the other way. I was just passed by. It’s strange how I felt- I was so good at faking it, that everyone thought I was fine! I was just a happy-go-lucky and optimistic girl. It’s surprising how powerful you can feel when you are able to manipulate. I also felt crushed that nobody cared. Was I that good of an actress, I could just paint on a smile and everyone was convinced?  I was hurting so badly, and the only way I knew to make it go away I was too pathetic to do. I had the perfect plan, nothing would go wrong. It would have been done.  All I had to do was pull the trigger, sweaty in my nervous, fourteen year-old hand. There I was, in the basement, at my father's desk, in an empty house. But something made me put that gun down. I still don’t know what. I cried for days. I was ashamed and embarrassed of my helplessness. Still, nobody knew how close I was. Life just went on like nothing happened. Going back to school the next day...everything as it was the day before, but I was forever changed. Will I ever get to that point again? Could I ever actually do it? Can I promise myself that I will never feel that way again?

Awakening

I was laying in bed thinking, as I usually do, and I had a profound moment. I have been through a lot. I mean I have made it past a great number of experiences. A little over a year ago I was so broke that I applied for food stamps. When I was denied, I had to live on a grocery budget of $25 per month. I sold gold jewelry that my Grandmother gave me to pay my bills. I did my laundry at a friend's apartment...or blend in with the students and break into the laundry rooms at the local university. I refused to go back "home" to ask for money or to use their things. I refused to be guilt tripped and controlled, again, by those who abused me my entire life. I had finally broken free from their grasp. I didn't care how hard it was going to be. I was working 4 jobs (two of them were for no monetary compensation) and going to graduate school. ...It all just kind of hit me. I do value life, my own life...when for so long I was convinced that I didn't have any worth. If that's true than how in hell have I made it this far? Sometimes in those quiet solitary moments, just before you're greeted with sleep, you have a great awakening. A beautiful experience of strength and resilience. I am strong. Maybe I am a survivor...