There's a heaviness in my heart- something is trying to happen far away within a part of me I don't remember how to find. I feel lost and I'm just wandering around within my mind, waiting. Wishing for someone to tell me what to do and how - but I am on my own with this. So I write about it, because that's what I now know how to do. And the writing, it soothes me and teases me out of my own thoughts. So much hurt and anger.

Everything around me, and the very fact that I have to go on, whispers to me of my own failure and horribleness as a human being. I know all that I tell myself is not true. I could name a dozen things that make me a good person, but this is not the kind of thing I can just stop and tell myself, “Nita, be thankful and happy.” If there is a switch I can flick I’m unable to locate it and turn it off.

I see myself as a child. I see a little girl sitting in a dark corner, hugging her knees and trying to be as small and "out of the way" as possible. When she looks at me, her eyes are full of a terrible anger- rage, really- and pain. She is scared. I have never seen myself so dark. But she is undeniably me, and she must have existed during that time of my life. I have ignored her, I chose to ignore her because she did not fit the image I held for myself. She makes me think about everything that happened to me. So pain and hurt. The pain from it is unspeakable. I try to list the things my father said to me- did to me- not to relive the memories but to acknowledge the suffering I never could when I was actually going through it. I try to describe the pain and it's so overwhelming that no words will come.

I suppose there is no way, no road map, nothing but fumbling in the dark. I am so tired of walking this road alone. I am not tired of the pain and anger; they are mine- a part of me. But where do I go from here? So many people…they all say different things, no one agrees on anything. How do you know if you’re right or wrong? How do you know if you hurt or don’t hurt, or even if you have the right to hurt?

It’s dark now, the night, the darkness… its killing me! I can’t sleep, when I try I dream.  And I’m so tired all day long. I’m really not sure how much more of this I can take.

I think, “Nita, reach out to… Email someone…call someone…don’t let it end like this. But who??

So, grab the razor, reach for the broken glass….let’s have a look at the badness that resides inside of you. Get it out, Nita, let it out. That’s a good girl…watch the blood flow out of your body. It’s bad! It’s evil! It’s part of him.

You deserve to die! Do it already! Just do it! We hate you!

Really? Well, don’t be, because it doesn’t help to be sorry. Sorry doesn’t change it. Sorry doesn’t make it go away. Sorry doesn’t “undo” what’s already been done. Sorry doesn’t erase my memory. Sorry doesn’t take away the searing pain in my chest. Sorry *****! I don't want your pity or to hear that no child should ever have to endure what I did. Because **** happens. It happened to me …it happens to millions of other kids. Shoulda…woulda…coulda…

You’re right – I do have so much going for me. I have an education, a career, financial security – the beautiful house w/the picket fence, the 2 kids and the dogs. And it’s all a huge sham! You can take the girl out of the trailer park, but you can’t take the trailer park out of the girl. And that’s what I’m to be commended for??? That doesn’t make me special. I should be commended because I have an education? Things could sure be a lot worse, huh? I could be a crack ***** living on the street with 10 kids in foster care, unable to afford therapy even if I wanted to go. I could be like “them”.

Wow! I’m so awesome. Yay for me! Kudos to the smart chick that spent years being molested by her father and ACTUALLY made something of her life. It’s a miracle!

It’s all such a sham – a dog and pony show. Smoke and Mirrors, my dear! Put on a stylish outfit, and  paste on a cheerful smile, and everyone thinks you have it all together….. No one would ever know different. You wouldn’t have known. If I’d have kept my big fat mouth shut!!!!! I should have known better….I should have sat down and weighed the risks, possible opportunities, the roadblocks the problems, and definitely a cost analysis of plan A – trying to work through the ******* of the past, B – continue to live in denial, C – **** myself. …. That’s what a smart business woman would have done. And after all, I’m super smart, huh? A real genius!

I began writing to express myself in the written word. To ‘speak’, in writing, of things from my past I was unable to speak aloud. Healing through writing... I needed a place to express myself that was not in a written journal that could be found by the wandering eye of someone in my real life.*

I reflect on the past year, and I do not reflect back with words of healing and strength and self-empowerment. Oh, I would love to write with the grace and eloquence of a woman who has gained the much sought after wisdom and perspective through this painful process, I thought that by now I could face and somehow outgrow the painful things that happened to me long ago.

I wanted to be able to look back on 2012 as a year of personal growth, from a place of asset and growth from my pain. I had wished that by 2013 I would have the ability to distance myself from this pain, that I could hold my pain and not let it consume me as it has for the past few years. But, regrettably, that is not the case.

But this year has not followed the path I had set forth, the goals I had set for myself remained unachieved. I did not want my writing to sound as pathetic as it does, I did not want to continue being buried alive in this pain, and I am so disgusted at the woman behind the mask, and I am filled with hate for little girl who aches with pain and continues to feel hopeless and alone.

Sadly, instead of feeling like I am on a ‘healing’ path, instead of being able to express myself in real life, instead of being able to take off my mask and be real, instead of being able to ask for help when I need it, reach out for help when I am drowning; I am now surrounding the brick wall I built long ago with barbed wire, and hired trained guards to patrol the perimeter, for reinforcement.

I wonder which side of the perimeter the therapist will end up on...I know he used to have the pass to enter into my world, but then a perceived breach revoked his credentials.  And I wonder when I will finally just pack it all up and just fade away. In a sense I have already done so emotionally ~ only the shell remains.  

*I am pathetic. I am last week’s leftovers that should have been thrown away long ago.  I am tired and I don't want to do it anymore. I am not the woman I wanted to become...not in person, not in written word. Tonight, I am wishing for something to turn me into dust and ******* away...

Right now I'd rather turn around and walk away forever…make that RUN. It's much easier than facing the truth. I will do virtually anything to keep from feeling the searing pain that has manifested itself in my soul in both my past and present moment...and it has made me so very tired. And frankly I don’t know how to survive right now. I have nothing left...I lack the energy to even make it through the days. So I have been taking advantage of the copious amount of anti-anxiety drugs that Dr so graciously prescribed for me during times like these (aka: “crazy nita” times).

Every hand is a winner and every hand’s a loser…and I have come to the decision that the winning hand for me is to stay asleep as much as possible. I haven’t been feeling well physically –And the fact is that I have been plagued by nightmares when awake and asleep. Sunday morning I opened my eyes for the first time at 11:30am and not even a strong cup of coffee could keep me awake and functioning, so I saw the light for only a short time. Why fight it… isn’t that what the therapist would say? “Nita, listen to your body and if you need to sleep 22 hours out of the day, then  be okay  with that."  So I have been listening to this sluggish, disgusting, hurting body telling me to just take the drugs and go to sleep. And take enough of them to ensure we all stay asleep.  

The drugs do not prevent the nightmares but somehow make them more bearable, if that makes any sense at all. I still feel fear, still wake up in a cold sweat with my heart pounding, but right now it is still more tolerable than being awake.

I don’t think I have been this numb to the reality of life in a long time. I have been present and in my body and aware of my surroundings for about 10 minutes the entire weekend. I'm okay with that because in this body is the last place I want to be right now. I cannot seem to rid my brain of the infinite dark cloudiness in my head long enough to even muster any type of  cognitive ability.
I am tired…drained…unwell.

I wish I could talk about what has happened but I cannot.  So please forgive me if I check out for a while...I did not plan this…but it is what it is and I cannot change it right this minute.  I am discouraged, angry, frustrated, fearful, confused...and I cannot face any of that right now.  

And so I have a bedside table with the necessities to make it through the rest of this period: bottles of lorazapam, xanax and a bottle of water to wash them down with...and a bottle of wine and some *****...if need be.  I just want to be totally and completely 100% numb for now.  
What? Nita, I thought you were past that? Yeah, me too…but I was wrong.

Now the best I can hope for is to turn toward the window and hope that somewhere in the darkness, I, like the gambler, will break even… because I'm currently out of aces...