I have a terrible uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach this morning. I have tried to distract myself but it won’t go away. So I am now pretending I am invisible, non-existent. When I am invisible it’s easy to feel nothing…to be nothing. I don’t want to feel today. I want all of what I feel to fall into the Bermuda triangle never to be found again. I can’t even find safety in writing today. Today, even writing feels too vulnerable, too exposed. I feel that if I were to write my true feelings, put what’s really going through my crazybrain in words that they will be read by someone who will thwart my plans.

I have asked for help, I have reached out, laid myself bare for someone else to witness. I have sat in silence.  I have exposed the ugly truth of the past and the pain of reliving the past in the present…and still no one will help me with it. I have been vulnerable in the face of pain. I have screamed out loud and I have screamed silently inside my head. I have tried to express my feelings and needs in different ways. I have allowed myself to reach out in ways I have never done before. And yet here it is, the mess that is me…shattered on the floor in a million pieces, just as it was last month, last year, 10 years ago…all the way back to when I was an unfertilized egg.

I have listened and I have been open to new ideas and techniques. I have listened to someone condescendingly tell me, "I can only imagine the pain you feel" and tell me I have "courage" and "I am honored to be your witness" (all ******* cliché responses).  I’ve paid my hard-earned money for a therapeutic technique I knew would not work. I have tried to mirror the good and understand the bad. I have tried to nurture the little girl and soothe the angry one. I have distracted and half-smiled for over a year.  And it is all still here.  All of it...the nightmares, the SUI thoughts, the burning desires to SI.  

I'm tired of being told what I can and cannot do with my feelings while not giving me other options...words like "I see you struggling" mean nothing and are actually patronizing and demeaning.  Would you tell someone who was drowning the same thing? Or would you throw them a life vest?

I am no longer going to do it someone else’s way. No one listens to me so I am done listening to them. I am tired of trying to explain the reality of the ghosts who haunt and torture me and being met with only disbelief and “it’s not that bad”. So I have skillfully constructed my own plan and I have placed my carefully drawn plans into a black satin box and tied the box with ribbon the color of blood. And my plan will stay there, cushioned by the soft warm velvet until late this evening, when the moon is high and the night wind howls...then I will untie the ribbon, open the box, and expose the inside to the cruel reality of the world.

My pain causes my soul to crumble, my heart to break and my entire self to be crushed beyond repair. I fall to the ground and clutch the dirt between my fingers, I want to dig to find something solid to grab on to. I am toppling over from agony. The pain has swept my feet out from under me like a swift breeze, and it is beating me down with its rocks of sadness. Those rocks continue to pound my body, each hit removing a part of me. I am dissolving to mere dust. I am sinking into this earth, as these rocks called flashbacks pelt me with all of their strength. Each time I remember I sink deeper, and slip further away from happiness. That dirt is swallowing me whole and no one is there to save me or pull me out of this rubble. I shall vanish without remembrance. But I don't vanish. I exist now in the "in-between" place. Half of my body buried in this dirt, stuck in this pain and hurt. The other half wanting to live and be free and know what it feels like to be lifted off of this ground, and soar. But each time I extend my arms and reach for the sky I am knocked back down. That pain wants to drag me back under Its dark covering of dirt and conceal my face and unhinge my smile. Its trying to win the battle that is my life. Sometimes I let the pain win. Some times I have no choice. The memories creep up on me like a lion crawls upon its prey. I am the prey. Today I had to let them in. Today I had to remember that little hurt child. 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 day after day. 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 daddy's and little girls to do."This is how daddy's 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 didn't know this was wrong then because it always happened. It was just...life. Daddy came to visit and unlatched my crib bars, had his way, then he latched it back and was on his way. He stole the most from me at four, 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 it's 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 to long. But I no longer do. I broke down its walls with a sledge hammer. Shattering its every part like he did to my ****** body. I now run through that hillside with its green grass and I feel the sun shining down on my face, spreading its rays far and wide and enclosing me in its warmth like my mother used to. I feel the earth spin around me again. I took my world back from him and left him to rot in his, to remember what he did, and to die alone.That's what he deserves. And I...... I deserve life, I deserve love, I deserve kindness, warmth, and goodness. I want to shower in it. NO I want to bath in it I want the love to pour its self out on me and lavish  me with its treasures. I deserve to know what that feels like, to grasp it between my fingers and hold on to that and not the dirt that wants to swallow me whole.

Sitting on a small couch tonight, I feel as if I am sitting on the corner of some cosmic world.  Alone.  Completely alone.  And this particular world is not round; rather it it square.  Square because there is no circular justice.  Not unless you count being tortured and murdered as some sort of redemptive revenge.

And then I feel injustice pressing squarely behind my tired eyes.  What has happened is not just.  Nor is it fair because they have moved on and I am still here suffering.

Everyone is dead... that keeps ringing in my head.  I know that is not the precise case but in my own twisted world, everyone is, in fact, dead.

So now I sit week after week, even moment after moment, left to deal with their abuse, their hatred, their woundings, and their deaths.  Then there are my scars, my memories, my terrors, and all the collateral damage that comes with being a member of this family.  Theirs and Mine: two separate and fancy walk-in closets full of skeletons and ghosts tucked away in every nook and custom built drawer specifically designed for keeping the best and most wrenching secrets.  What an inheritance.

I feel that I am on the hook for the lion's share of the damage.  This hurts deeply; deeper than I ever imagined.  This surprises me.  What a dysfunctional mess...this family that is mine.

Alone. Completely Alone.