I know you are in pain. I can see it in your eyes, in your body. What can I do do comfort you? Come sit next to me, you can lay your head on my lap if you wish, and tell me what you need? You are safe here, I will not hurt you.

Cry if you need to~I won't ask you to stop. Sometimes crying helps get out the bad and makes room for the good. If you want to hold my hand, I will leave it out and open and ready for your grasp. If you don't want to hold my hand, that's okay, too, but I will leave it out just in case you decide you do want too.

Breathe, let it all out. Take long, deep breaths... you are safe here, no one will hurt you. You will be okay. You have so much strength and power to heal, it is within you, and I will help you find it.

If you want to be silent, I will wait with you and the beating of our hearts can be the only sound in the stillness. It is okay if you don't want to talk now. But if you do want to talk, I am right here, and I will listen to whatever you have to say. I accept you for who you are~you are safe with me.

You can relax and lean into me if you want too. I know you're tired, I know you are struggling~ I am here and you do not have to hold yourself up right now. You can rest and lean against me if you want too.

Get warm, feel cared for and loved. Do not be afraid~ You are safe here.
I am right here, and I am not leaving you. I will not leave you alone in the darkness. You have a long journey ahead of you, but I will be with you, help guide you, each step along the way.

Rest, now, little one.
You are safe now.

It is mine and mine alone...to fight…talk…cry…scream…hate…hold...and hopefully someday face and accept. How could I have possibly believed that someone else could understand...

I feel like I am so many different people disconnected from each other wrapped tightly inside this lost little body with no escape.

                                              I am a mother
                                              I am a wife
                                              I am a friend
                                              I am a professional
                                              I am so much more…
I am an ****** survivor…she is the part that is wholly separate from the rest of ‘Nita’.

I have never faced her, accepted her or anything that happened to her, she was not me…now she has grown into this big all-consuming monster growing inside of me. And the bigger she gets, the louder she is, the faster I have tried to bury her and push her away. But she is now way too big and I am way too old to bury her anymore. And I have to figure out a way to be okay with her being a part of me.

Why do I continue to run and fight who I used to be and who I am? Why am I so scared and so ashamed? Why do I continue to live in doubt and hopelessness? Why can’t I trust anyone? Why can I not understand and accept her? If this is what I so desperately wish for, what I have worked so hard for the past 5 years, why can I not just DO it? Why? Why can’t I be okay with ALL of me?

I am rambling tonight because I do not feel well and I am afraid to keep all of this inside of my head for fear that tonight could end with the unaccepted being punished. And there is no ‘support system’ in place right now to help me with that. There is just ‘me’, logical adult Nita, trying desperately to remain in charge. I catch myself not breathing, and it feels like I have to talk myself through a few breaths before it becomes subconscious again. And yet even when I concentrate on my breathing, I cannot breathe deeply, I cannot let all the air out of my lungs. Why? Is that because I am afraid and untrusting that air will fill my lungs in the next breath? Not only can I not trust another human being, I cannot trust my own body to breathe?  

I am not crazy. I am not weak. I am alive and I am lucky. I am alive…so now what? Is this where I say, “Yes, I am an ****** survivor~ time to move on.” And then I walk away? I keep trying that. I am an ****** survivor. I am an ****** survivor. (I suppose that is a step forward, I still can’t say the words out loud, but I can write them now.)


               I SURVIVED THE ABUSE ~ IT IS TIME TO MOVE ON…

But I need help with the second part. I mean, I have moved on, I am an adult, I am not helpless. I can function in society, and the majority of the people in my life probably think I am a product of a normal childhood. But it has affected so many parts of me, parts of me I am possibly not even aware of yet. That is the only way to explain the nightmares and the triggers and the strange reactions to what most people consider normal situations. I try to keep track of these moments, events, feelings, and I think I am doing better, right now…and yet I also feel like I am waiting for fate to stomp on me and squash me like an ant.  

I wish I could talk to people in my real life and trust that they won’t look at me in shame, embarrassment, or worse, pity…but I cannot. Nope – my past is mine…and I am left here alone now – to fight with it, talk to it, hate it, deal with it, cry with it – and maybe someday accept it.

And I will do it alone because it is my past…no one else’s.
How I could I have possibly thought that someone else could understand.

Hi, I'm NitaAnn…
I know we have met....however, I can't really talk to you but I need to know if you can help me.

I am married with 2 children, both girls.  I'm a dog person.  My favorite color is green and I am a Leo (which should alert you to my tendency toward stubbornness).  I prefer down pillows and lots of 'em!  I am intelligent and creative...and very independent.  I tend to be overprotective of my children - my girls call it my 'worry meter', but they mean everything to me and I want to protect them.  I love to read.  I love to travel and enjoy new adventures on the road.  I love camping and being outdoors. I love the musical Phantom of the Opera and have seen it live... I hate onions and liver and right now my favorite food is anything Mexican.  I have a past, everyone does, right?  But I don't talk about anything that happened before age 10...and not really anything til after 22.

I've been in therapy before - many times before.  But I have this incredibly hard exterior that has never been penetrated by a 'professional'.  Not one.  Some therapists have told me I have a lot of anger...depression. One therapist told me after 3 sessions that I was fine and she didn't even know why I was there and that was after I told her I had seriously considered killing myself in the shower with a razor...I was 13.

I don't know why I'm here today.  Well, I do, but I can't talk about it.

I have major trust issues.  I'm hypervigilent and always on guard and I will search for reasons not to trust you.  If you hurt me I will pull away from you and I won't let you back in.  I would like to ask you if you can help me, but because I cannot trust you I can't really tell you anything right now...but I really need to know if you can help me...because if I can't find someone to help me I don't know what will happen to me but I do know that I can't do this alone anymore.  

But I can't tell you that.  Because I don't know you....I don't trust you...I will not let you see the weak and frightened Nita.  I cannot take the lid off of the box that contains the first 10 years of my life because it will all spill out and I am afraid I won't be able to put it back in...and it is scary, and ugly, and shameful, and bad.  It's very bad.  And I can't talk about it.  

But I really need to know if you can help me...

This is just a terrible time and we just have to get through it. But how?

My life here is not a secret. The NitaAnn expressed here is a lot more of me than I would ever reveal in my real life. Writing what I write here, expressing what and how I feel, is far beyond what I would ever reveal in real life ~ even to my close friends. I cannot remember the last time I let anyone see me cry or let them see the pain I go through (exception being the therapist). But here I am, typing away, open and raw. The painful truth that is me...and that truth is that I am in pain. I pray to just sleep now so I can get relief from the pain. I pray for answers and solutions because I know that long-term sleeping isn’t the answer and I really want to feel better but in my present moment I am settling for any relief I can find. I’m grateful to have this outlet, a way to express what I cannot say aloud, or show to anyone in my real life. It is difficult for me to allow people to see this side of me, to be vulnerable, even on-line. It is certainly not something I can do in real life.

Right now I feel like I am standing above a tornado, watching it wreck mayhem on the girl who was me. But I am beyond expecting anything right now. With every step there is a twist, every fork in the road feels like a dead end. I am ready to fight. I am ready to get past this. It all still mystifies me; how this happens. Just I begin to feel better, things are going well, I can control my thoughts and maintain control over the crazies who dwell within ~ then suddenly it’s like a hammer crashes into my head and a g-force of reality rains down. I had myself convinced that I was better. The hardest part was finally over and the next part will be a breeze! Then it all catches up with me again...I cannot outrun it.

I thought that maybe taking time off from school/work would be a good idea. But I’m quickly coming to the conclusion that it might do more harm than good. Each night I just feel empty and drawn...haven’t I felt enough already? Is there anything left to feel? I feel desperate for relief. It is so hard to find hope and promise when you can’t seem to see past the thick fog of the pain.  And it still amazes me how crazyhead can manifest itself inside me causing not just mental anguish but also physical torment. And the queasiness and headache will not go away.  The blood pressure remains in the danger zone even with all the meds.

And it's overwhelming, you know? It's just too much.  All of it running through my head ~ horrible things that I cannot even write here.  And I want to talk to the therapist about it - I do - because I know I need his help.  But when I picture myself sitting there, on his couch, actually speaking aloud the horrible disgusting things from my past and my present - I imagine him sitting there, disgusted with me...he wouldn't be able to handle it.  He wouldn't.  And I cannot fathom how I would feel to see a look of disgust on his face.  To have him see me, NitaAnn, as I truly am...so I am stuck in this terrible paradox ~ needing his help but not being able to express to him what I need help with.  

I am trying to see past this time of pain and once again find hope, find joy in life and let other people in the real world help me when I am lost. There must be a solution...so what is it? Maybe I’ll go lie down and explore answers to that question. I had better find something quick ~ because I don’t know how much more of this crap I can handle physically or mentally.

I do not feel well. I called off of work today due to exhaustion. I have tried to relax today to attempt to reduce the blood pressure but I don’t feel well still. I recognize that it is mostly my fault. I haven’t taken care of myself this week – well let’s be honest…I never really take care of myself – even a heart attack at 40 is not enough of a wake-up call to change my behaviors.  I feel sort of shaky and weak and I really want  someone, anyone to tell me what to do…but there’s no one  anymore and so I will stay here within myself praying for something (?) sleep?  Dissociation to take me away so I can escape all of it for awhile.

I just cannot turn around and ask for help. I wouldn’t even know who to ask. Why? I don’t know exactly. Fear… Maybe… Stubbornness…Perhaps. I don’t know why. When you get hurt it’s difficult to put yourself out there again – for fear of being hurt again. And right now it’s just easier to pretend to the outside world that all is well and I am a-ok – even though that isn’t true. But honestly, I don’t think it matters...anyway…the “truth”.

Aren’t I being a good little NitaAnn by not facing any of it? I mean, I did take all my meds today, and I slept til noon, up for a bit then a nap now thinking it’s time for bed again. Being physically ill along with my other mental hang-ups is not a good combination. The unrelenting darkness…it’s still here – it’s just as strong as it was before, but I will do what others expect of me…throwing it all into a leaky bucket so it does not bother anyone else.

I have nowhere to go for help, really. I am no longer burdening DT with any of this…it’s not fair – it’s just too much for him to deal with. Anyone really. Too many things, too much trauma from childhood, from the teens…and any work done this far has felt like someone putting a band-aid on a gaping stab wound. And  I have perfected the art of pushing away from me anybody else who may want to care about me. I am so difficult to love. Ask my parents.

I don’t feel well now. And yet here they are – the overwhelming ‘feelings’…relentlessly returning to my front door, insisting they have their say and I remain their captive audience.

This won’t end well. There is no hope. There is only this. There is no hope. I want to wrap up in my blanket…into a quiet dark corner and cry and pray for something to make it all end. I need it to stop. It has to stop. Please, just stop.

I’m scared. 5 year old cries for DT, for his comfort, for the look of safety in his eyes. I want DT to help me but he isn’t here anymore…it was too much for him too. But I’m scared. Scared…miserable….frightened. No one to help. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t feel well. No help – but I don’t deserve help anyway. I deserve nothing. So I ask for nothing. I will never ask again. Never.

Stay away from me, everyone. I am no good. Not even my own mother would stand by me because she knew…she knew! DT knew! He knew too! I showed him all of me and he knew that I was bad. There’s no hope. There is nothing. I feel nothing. I will never feel. Nothing. I am nothing. Nothing.