You are stronger than you realize… I know that is encouragement, and I appreciate it so much. But sometimes I wonder if you have any concept of what happened then, and what goes on for me now. I mean, I know you know to the extent of what I tell you, how could you possibly know more than that, right? And I know that you know there’s so much I’m unable to talk about. So much more. And I sit and wonder if I’ll ever be able to do it…to actually “talk” – and I don’t know the answer. So much more difficult to say than my younger brother used to eat sticks of butter at my grandparents’ house. So much more shameful and embarrassing. Things little girls shouldn’t do, or even know about. Terrible things that don’t even involve the evil father –‘directly’-
(she writes in a subtle way, that you may not be able to ascertain what I’m saying
– again, you can only know what I tell you, right?).

I know you said it takes a long time,
but what do I do in the meantime to deal with it all…
the headaches, the nausea and puking, the nightmares,
the body aches, the questions, the sadness, the fear….and on and on…
I’m not asking for an answer to that question,
I don’t know if there is one.
(Do NOT mention anything resembling DBT or I will hang myself).

But just because I don’t speak these things aloud,
doesn’t mean they don’t rattle around in my brain night after night.
And how I wish I could just spew everything in my head out
and lay it on the table, and then toss it all in the garbage like a dissected fetal pig.

When a little girl is ***** night after night, by her father,
at first the little girl cries and pleads for someone to help.
But when the little girl’s cries are unheard,
when no one will help protect her, and when the crying just makes things worse,
the little girl just stops crying, and protesting, because she realizes no one cares.
Yes, she becomes strong, very strong, she survives…
but she feels void of all emotion.

I am trying really hard not to hate myself today.