NitaAnn

NitaAnn Sep 2013

I am hurting and scared and it is not good.
I am lost because I am denying myself again...
I am struggling and I am failing
Tonight may be the end of my 2 months of 'Good Little Nita'.
I am overwhelmed with thoughts of self-hate.
I can feel it.
And I've tried to "contain" it and "push it away" and it is not working tonight!

I have pulled out my "HEALTHY WAYS TO COPE" list
and checked everything off...and it's still here.
This burning inside of me ~ the bad place ~
I need to cut it out of me!
Perhaps what's worse...is I know it will help alleviate the pain
albeit temporarily.
But right now- I'll take 'temporarily'...
it's better than no relief at all.
The quest to fix the hole in my bucket was unsuccessful.
And frankly, I really can't make myself care right now.
I'm finished with staying 'in the present'.
Who would want to stay present in this body?
For God's sake, we have 'no emotional skin'.
Who wants to live like that?

This is not about finding a 'safe place',
or taking allies, or throwing your troubles in a bucket,
it is not about 'courage' or 'wisdom'
this is about 'managing the symptoms', is not?
This is about making functioning less exhausting and difficult.
This is about not speaking, in real life,
about the pain and despair, the fear and the anger.
This is about managing the 'symptoms' and 'masking' the problem.

So tonight I will 'manage' the 'symptoms'
so they do not spill over and have a negative effect on anyone else.
I will 'manage' and I will 'deal with her'
....by myself.

THIS is about being'numb' and 'ignoring' what needs attention.
THIS is about not questioning and popping a pill.
THIS is about suffering in silence
and doing what has to be done to continue to "live" for everyone else
because you do not matter,
and what you want and need do not matter.
They never have.

This is about putting a beautiful expensive picture and placing it over an ugly stain on the wall. The stain will still be there, even when something beautiful and breath-taking is covering it up...and if the picture is never removed the stain will always remain.
It will stay there, ***** & forgotten.

I should not be alone tonight
but I want to be alone.
I want to hurt myself - because I deserve to be hurt.
But then there is that '24 hour rule' – f@#k it!
It's not like there's anyone to call for help anyway!
Clearly that little girl is so ugly, so *****, so revolting -
she even traumatized a valued member of the mental health community.

No one will know that I am suffering.
No one will be allowed to see the scars beneath the clothing
lest they be revolted
They will know only this:

I am Nita. I am strong and I am beautiful and I can do anything.
Smile Pretty Nita
And they, unlike me, will believe it.

NitaAnn Sep 2013

Some Days I Let the Pain Win

Some days I let the pain win.
Sometimes I have no choice.
The memories creep up on me
like a predator crawls upon its prey.
I am the prey.

This week I had to let them in.
I had to remember that little hurt girl.
She was hurt in the most horrible of ways.
But she was not destroyed,
she did not vanish,
she is still inside of me,
she pumps the blood through my veins.
Her strength and power force me to continue this life.

She was stripped of her innocence,
her trust, her faith, her mind, and her spirit.
Every part of her was tainted by
his lies, his words, and his body that forced its self upon her.
Making her do things that aren't meant for daddies and little girls to do.
“This is how daddies show their love” he says…
so I lay and I allow.

I allow him to disgrace my body
with the same manhood I was made from.
I did not know this was wrong then
because it has always happened.
It was just…life.
Daddy came to play with me, had his way and then left.
Always leaving me presents.
He stole the most from me at five,
this the day he decided touching wasn't enough.
The day he decided I needed to understand my role as a woman.
The day he ***** me.

That was the day my world caved in,
The day the earth stopped spinning.
The sun stopped shining.
There were no stars in the night sky.
There was no green grass on the hill side.
Or flowers in the spring time.

My world ended and twisted and turned and contorted
its self into a new kind of world.
A sick world, filled with tears, hurt, and pain.
Filled with lies and covering things up to disguise
from people who "don't understand our love".
This new more complicated world was filled
with burying secrets and not getting daddy in trouble.
I hated that world.
But I resided in it anyways
because that was the address that I had.
I lived there for far too long.
But I no longer do.

NitaAnn Sep 2013

Spin the Wheel

Around, and around, and around, it goes...where it stops, nobody knows

Choose your destiny – spin the wheel!
Where will it land…
spinning spinning spinning
…and the choices are flashing before your eyes…
Moderate self-hatred
Complete self-loathing
Suicidal Thoughts
Self-Injury happens now
Needs work, but getting there
On a healing path
Give it up girl!
Just do it already

Spin the wheel –
around and around and around it goes
– where it will stop nobody knows…

I want to punish myself. I want to punish myself for not eating, punish myself for eating. I want to punish myself for vomiting, I want to punish myself when I don’t *****. I want to punish myself for cutting. I want to punish myself when I don’t cut. I want to punish myself when I drink. I want to punish myself when I don’t drink. I want to punish myself for punishing myself. I am so tired of myself! Everything is the same – and I’m sorry to sound so cliché but everything hurts right now. So I sit here wanting to die and wanting to live. I sit here begging to not feel this aching pain anymore. I am tired of being such a needy person.

Sometimes I feel like there’s no place in this world for me. I feel useless – Like I’m just taking up space. What do you have at the end of the day when you feel so worn out and alone because you’ve blocked everyone out and all you have as fuel to go on is self-hate and a small spark of hope that gets smaller and grows fainter each day? So many days I cannot come up with a way to release the emotion that has built up inside of me.

If I could just quiet the voices in my head maybe I would be able to clearly hear the voice that is saying, “help me”. But I’m terrified of that voice – asking for help takes away control. My mind will take a memory and provide running commentary in my head that takes me back to a place where I don’t want to be. And the little movies that seem to appear at any time and send me back to a part of my past that I pray I can just forget. Most of them seem just as powerful, if not more powerful, today as they were when they happened and they send my mind into an emotional straight jacket that I don’t know if I can escape from.

**I am afraid all of the time.

NitaAnn Sep 2013

Her Feelings

She is just a little girl; he is supposed to be her father
He only wants to use her, abuse her
She goes to her room and searches for a place to hide
He always finds her ~ she always cries
He has beaten her, held her down, taken off her clothes
She can’t scream, she can’t breathe
She can only pray for it to stop
She wonders what she did that was so wrong
Days go by, years go by.
But it never stops
He told her lies, took away her life, left her with no future
Now he is gone, but she still hurts
She trusts no one, she feels alone
Sometimes she can’t understand “good” and “bad”
She looks at the cuts she has made on her body
She knows what each cut stands for
She can’t get it out of her head,
The pain is too much
She prays to die
She doesn’t sleep, she can’t close her eyes
She can feel the pain, she tries not to cry
She keeps to herself, the memories are overwhelming
She can’t stand being in her own skin
She cuts, cuts,and then cuts some more….
These take the pain away….for a minute
She is stuck with these memories, alone in this space.

NitaAnn Sep 2013

The Lie Behind the Words

"It wasn't your fault"
The words follow me wherever I go;
inked into the many pages of a torn journal,
etched bloodily into the flesh of my arms.
Haunting me endlessly and echoing inside my mind in bursts of staining black.

"Why do you hurt yourself?"
I want to scream an answer to this question,
yet I never do, I never will.
I don't have the answer they want.
Yet my mouth wants to spit the venomous words out at them.
My tongue, however, is empty of the truth.
I smile condescendingly at their horrified faces, doing whatever I can to escape.

"Just be a good girl and everything will be fine"
Can you not understand?
I'm not good.
I'm bad, tainted,
my very essence
poisoned and corrupted.
  Don't touch me.
I'll contaminate you.
Just stay away, keep an image in your head of me, smiling, happy, innocent.
Never come close enough to look past my mask, and then  everything will be okay.
  I don't want anyone to put me back together again, I deserve to be shattered.

"You don't understand!"*
How many times have I heard that?
Too many to count.
Being misunderstood is part of me,
when people finally understand
, their empathy will eventually turn to pity
I can't stand it, hate would be easier to tolerate than sadness.
  Don't be sad for me, be sad for yourself,
you're much more important than I'll ever be.
Just leave me alone, if you get too close to me I'll hurt you.
  Somehow, I will.
I will kick my way around you,
until you have no other option but to loathe me.
But I deserve it.
I always break everything,
it's now my turn to be broken.

"It's not your fault."
Sure, keep saying that while you're 'holding' me.
I know you don't mean it.
But I'll nod my head like the doll I should be,
as if I believed you.  I'll just go along with it.
The need to make me feel pure, good…
shut out all the other signs.
My hands can't stop shaking,
the cuts I inflict upon myself are pale white yet swollen.
The scars are reminders of how I deserve pain,
and the hideous ecstasy that comes along with it.
But just ignore them, I don't want you to know anyway.
Keep repeating those words to yourself, over and over again, trying to reassure me
I'll just sit there and nod soundlessly.
Watch me smile the way you want me to as I repeat it back to you.
I'm blameless. It’s not my fault.

You won't even notice the lie behind the words………
blameless…
shameless…
faultless….
guiltless…

Just leave me alone! As you now know, if you get close to me, I will hurt you!

NitaAnn Sep 2013

He's Back

I am trapped in the shadows, where skeletons rise from the dead and moan in this cold and dead world
I detest the night...Thoughts tear through my head like a tempest pausing not for rest nor sleep. My past stalks me like the black shadow of death; a silhouette as thick as the everlasting night. She has manifested herself inside skin and bones, burrowed deep within a weak and hollow body. I walk around half dead and half human, unaware of any truth or peace. The truth only makes me hurt worse. It’s a brilliant paradox, really, that I can search so desperately for something that merely causes me pain.

I sit alone tonight feeling trapped in a moment. Time moves back instead of forward. She is screaming within me and I know not what to do. I try desperately to suffocate the terrifying voices rambling inside my head. There is an abundant amount of anger and frustration, memories and regret, loneliness and terror. Again and again everything surfaces and erupts like a volcano spreading hot lava, scorching every inch of my body. I try to desperately to see the line separating my past from my present but I am unable separate myself, instead wavering from one side to the other time and time again.

It is like trying to climb Mount Everest with no training.  It is over before you begin.

I cry harder. I feel swallowed by pain; unable to speak and unable to breathe, longing for someone to help me…but there is no one here. The room is filled with a heavy silence, the aroma of the past drifts through the air, the pungent smell pierces through my nasal passage, and my stomach churns with the overwhelming urge to *****.

If I push it away it stays away for awhile, but it always comes back. I cannot do it now. Tonight I find myself without hope. Without hope. The darkness chokes me and I feel completely powerless – fear is etched into my spine. I am unable to face the fear alone, and yet I have no one to help me. I can no longer stash it away inside of a box or a bucket, it will not stay and I cannot do this alone. How do I face this fear? How? Never again will I allow myself to show the scary and shameful side to another. Never again will I allow myself to be vulnerable as another bears witness, showing me not acceptance but abhorrence.  There is no coach for this.

This task seems insurmountable. I have failed once again.

I sit here, shaking and staring up at the dark sky and I cannot find a single star hovering. I take that as a sign that more darkness is yet to come. And so I sit, and I wait; and I continue to stare into space…no star to wish upon…no light to follow. Just the darkness, the chill of the night air...the hopelessness.

Tonight, I feel physically sick and I am trapped in the shadows, where skeletons rise from the dead and moan together inside this cold and dead world.

One two…he's coming back for you...three four…try and lock the door...five six…he'll never ever quit...seven eight…he doesn't care; it's too late... nine ten…scared to sleep again...  He's back...

NitaAnn Sep 2013

Pray Harder

Just pray harder, Nita....

I have been on edge and triggered all day long…actually all week now…there are a variety of reasons…and the mere fact that it is almost the weekend tends to steer me toward the ’bad place’ – and I am falling quickly into the darkness tonight.

There’s no comfort tonight, other than in a bottle of wine and a pill box full of ativan...the therapist would tell me, “Nita, there is no reason to be scared. Find your safe place. Listen to your grandmother’s soothing voice.” Nothing to fear? Are you serious? And the safe place comment always cracks me up! Do you really think there was any place ‘safe’ to go then? Where the hell would I find safety in a 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom, filthy trailer? There was NOsafe place. There was no place to hide! Except inside my head.

I should pray about it. That’s what my very religious grandmother would tell me. ”Just ‘pray harder’ Nita.” God answers prayers. Just pray harder, Nita…pray harder. My grandmother was very religious and very private. Don’t ever air your ***** laundry to anyone, well, with the exception of God. Pray harder Nita…pray harder…

Why didn’t God every answer MY prayers?

Why is that?

Because I wasn't "good enough"?

Because I didn't pray LOUD enough?

Because I didn’t pray HARD enough?

Because no one cared!!!!!!

That's why!

No one really cares now either…throw it all in a container, spray some holy water on it, drop to your knees and PRAY.

DON'T you dare tell me that my fear isn't 'real'. Don't you dare tell me that you ‘care’! No one does! And it doesn't matter anyway - no one can accept the 'unacceptable' - apparently not even GOD!

My grandmother was loving...yes, she rocked me, she sang to me when I was sick - she spent every night with me when I was in the hospital repeatedly for recurring kidney infections... because kids that get f@#ked tend to develop recurring UTIs which left untreated lead to bladder infections which then lead kidney infections. She was THERE! But she NEVER asked me! EVER! No one did!
But I guarantee you she fell to her knees every single night and PRAYED for her f@#ked up alcoholic son and her ******* up grandkids.

Just pray harder, Nita. Just pray harder!

Yeah - I should get down on my knees RIGHT NOW! And PRAY For f@#king RELIEF!

If I'm still breathing tomorrow you'll know HE heard me!