Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Sep 2013 Pendragon
NitaAnn
I have fears – they are very real to me. But contrary to what the some may think, my greatest fears are not rejection and abandonment.

My greatest fear is that everyone will continue to turn their heads while victims are screaming.

My greatest fear is that survivors will express exactly how they feel, whether verbally, or acting out, and they will continue to be invalidated by being told they need medication and therapy in order to control their behavior, thereby reinforcing what they learned as children.

My greatest fear is that victims will continue to be silenced by therapy, or numbed from medication, and the clinicians, the researchers, will continue to ‘theorize’ and develop treatment that, in the long-run, is not helpful because they, themselves were NOT abused and have no idea what really should be done.

My greatest fear is that survivors will continue to be lab rats in the development of treatment that is not helpful, they will continue to drop out, time after time, and they will continue to self-harm, ‘repeat the trauma’, and possibly commit suicide because they believe no one cares.

My greatest fear is that the statistics will grow and no one will do anything about it because they do not know what to do. These are the facts:
             A report of child abuse is made every ten seconds
             More than five children die every day as a result of child abuse.
             Approximately 80% of children that die from abuse are under the age of 4.
             It is estimated that between 50-60% of child fatalities due to maltreatment are not recorded as
             such on death certificates.
             More than 90% of juvenile ****** abuse victims know their perpetrator in some way.
             Child abuse occurs at every socioeconomic level, across ethnic and cultural lines, within all
             religions and at all levels of education.
            About 30% of abused and neglected children will later abuse their own children, continuing
            the horrible cycle of abuse.
            About 80% of 21 year olds that were abused as children met criteria for at least one
            psychological disorder.


And this reflects only what is reported. Imagine what that percentage would be if all of the unreported cases were included.

And of the millions of children that survive the abuse, many grow up to be adults who are able to put it behind them, succeed and present themselves as an acceptable member of society, and many of them do not. But what are we DOING about it? When will people stop turning their heads? When will we finally stop, look and listen to these children being abused and to the adults who were abused as children?

When will we, society, decide that child abuse, and ****, and ****** assault are important, and affect millions of lives every year, and that it can be just as deadly as cancer. When will we finally stop whispering and turning our heads and actually face it and do something to stop it, and effectively treat those who ‘survived’?

I hope it happens in my lifetime, and I hope I can make a difference!
 Sep 2013 Pendragon
-
I'll never be as great as her. I will never escape the expectations. Neither will I ever be anything more than, a relative to the bright star. I'll be in the corner.

People expect me to be as good, as creative, as talented, as perfect..but I never will be. I could make the most beautiful dress ever seen, and it still wouldn't be worth anything more.

It's like a dark cloud covers me. A feeling of 'am I going to be enough?' It's not jealousy, or self-pity. It is that feeling of emptiness. That feeling of wanting to be useful. That feeling of wanting to succeed.

I'm not secure in myself. My confidence drops faster, than my tears in the dead of night.

I guess I am afraid of being just the 'sister'. I guess I feel like nothing I do will compare.

I just want to make people proud.
This is not a poem. It doesn't rhyme,
and it's just something I wrote..to vent.

© Natali Veronica 2013.
 Sep 2013 Pendragon
Kimmy-Nichole
A slap in the face
a rush of pain
my hearts racing
pumping faster
like a frate train
Ease it
heal it
make it go away
end this pain
cure my hell
Ill pray forever
can you tell?
Watching you walk
and talk
and laugh
…it hurts.

Knowing you’re here today
and might be away tomorrow
…it hurts.

Hearing you call my name
out loud
on the clouds
feels right
but …it hurts.

Seeing you look at me
and shiver
tremble
and stumble
…it hurts.

Because you’re not supposed to see
nor look
nor feel
for real
therefore…it hurts.

And you know
and I see
and we don’t say a word
but still…it hurts.

Yet nobody knows…how it hurts.
 Sep 2013 Pendragon
NitaAnn
I hate nights alone
          So many thoughts
                   Never stopping
                            No sleep…
Thoughts tear through my head like a tempest, never even pausing for sleep.
My past stalks me like the black shadow of death; a shadow as thick as the everlasting night.
She has manifested herself inside skin and bones, deep within a weak and hollow body.
I walk around half dead, half alive, unaware of any truth or peace.
The truth only makes me hurt worse.
It’s a wonderful paradox, really,
That I can search so desperately for something that merely causes me pain.

As I sit alone tonight,
         I feel trapped in a moment.
                   Time moves neither fast nor slow…
Suddenly a force so strong and so surprising burst from within me and I wanted to scream!
My face grew red as I tried desperately to suffocate the terrifying voices inside of me.
The anger and frustration, the memories and regret, the loneliness and terror…
Everything began to surface and erupt.
Tears spilled like poison from my eyes, leaving my face splotchy and red.
I imagined a line dividing my present from my future, floating in space, waiting for me to cross.
But it seems I’m only capable of shuffling along the side of it.
The task seems insurmountable which made me cry harder.
I felt swallowed by pain; unable to speak and unable to breathe,
Longing for someone to hold me~ but there was no one there.
After a long while my cries ceased and the room was filled with a heavy silence
More drowning than even my own tears.
My palms were sweaty and I could feel my chin begin to quiver.
My breathing was sharp and my hands were shaking.
I wanted to write something, needed to write, something.
I picked up a pen and etched two words into my journal: “without hope”.

Without hope…
          darkness begins to choke me.
                    I feel completely powerless.
Fearful…
Fear has been stitched into my spine for so many years now.
          Fear of the past,
                   Fear of rejection,
                             Fear of failure,
                                       Fear of being alone,
                                                  Fear of feelings…
How do I face this fear? What am I supposed to do?

I sat there, still shaking, staring up at the dark sky,
I could not find a single star hovering,
And I took that as a sign that more darkness is yet to come.
As the moon hid behind the clouds…
         I continued to stare into space…
                   No star to wish upon…
                             No light to follow...
All is strapped in the shadows of night, where skeletons rise from the dead to moan at the world.

And she and I sit together in the darkness, my past and me, the only friend who has never left.
The choice to cut is a signal .
I am trying no more ,
Taking a break from doing my best .

There are reasons why one would do it .

To ease the tension ;
Express emotional pain ;
To punish the body for its history ,
Or alleviate inner rage .

To express shame ;
To provide biochemical relief .
 Sep 2013 Pendragon
NitaAnn
Cutting
 Sep 2013 Pendragon
NitaAnn
Cutting was the only way i could function.
From the superficial cuts down to the super deep ones
The scars all have a story to tell
A period of life i can not take back  
They remind me of what i have fought through.
They also encourage me not to give others power
They do not deserve by bleeding out my pain
But to use my voice.
Then there is the factor of cutting
Because i simple enjoy watching myself bleed
And feeling myself release...
 Sep 2013 Pendragon
Kimberly
Stop suffocating me and allowing this love to,
Tear me limb from limb.
Stop tearing into my soul,
And stop attempting to steal my heart.
Enough of this *******,
The kind that has me thinking about you nonstop,
All day, everyday.
The kind that actually brings tears to my eyes,
That soak the pillow at night,
And leave me numb and lifeless in the morning.
Do you not understand how much I hate you?
How much I hate what you do to me?
Just stop this madness.
You wreck me, inside out.
But you know what the most ****** up part is?
I despise you,
But I love you all the same.
What the hell are you doing to me?
Please stop.
Just s t o p!
Next page