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Sunny Beach Mar 2019
To You-
Oh how I loathe writing this. I've been sitting here for hours getting more and more angry about being forced to do this. Then all of a sudden it dawned on me that my anger is misplaced. I have this problem differentiating emotions and dispersing it to the wrong things. I'm not angry necessarily.  I'm uncomfortable. Writing your name makes me physically ill. Let's just get on with this.

Do you care what you did to me? Do you understand it? Do you feel guilt or remorse? From the first time you touched me, that was it. The world turned upside down and order disappeared. I was over before I even began.

This is not how life was supposed to be. At four a heavy sadness consumed my heart. A young disabled child should know nothing else but love and security. You preyed on me because I couldn't walk or crawl. I was the perfect target. I became trapped in the sorrow of my soul. Unable to feel, hope, or dream. Instead I became unseen, unheard, and unloved. After my casts were off and I learned to walk you didn't stop. You got worse. This is a never ending loop that plays on repeat. I don't know how to fix it.

When I start to feel okay, it starts all over again relentlessly. I get a few millimeters from the surface of the water and right before my fingertips touch the air, the darkness grabs my ankle and pulls me back under to the lowest depths possible.

The flashbacks turn into a tornado set out to tear apart every limb one by one until its destruction destroys me. It's more than a fleeting thought or a horrible memory. It chases me around everywhere. It follows me in my dreams. It's as if I am right back to that moment in time again. I can hear, see, smell and feel all of it. I can feel the confusion, the pain. I can hear and feel my bones cracking from you contorting me in ways the human anatomy can not move. 75 pounds up against 140 pounds. It was a losing battle. My clawing, kicking, punching didn't even faze you. You were unconcerned with the ****** nose I gave you. There was nothing I could do but focus on the lamp that was shaking from your force. Focusing on the beads that clink together so I didn't have to be in this dimension.
I can smell the scent of Mr. Bubbles coming from my wet towel that you tore from me. Call it what you want, hallucinations, whatever but I still get whiffs of it that stops me in my tracks to this day. I have been embarrassed when a flashback comes and I yell STOP.  I can see all my stuffed animals and their exact position on my bed. That was the last time I could look at Tweety without being revolted. You took away my choice to decide what I do with my body and my mind. You stole my innocence from me. No longer was I a child. I was only 12 years old.

When you were finished with me, you left me broken and numb. I was void of emotion. There was no thought process. I went on auto pilot and began throwing blankets, bubble bath, and stuffed animals in the dumpster. There was no way I was going to be able to explain how the blood got there. I couldn't look at my stuffed animals without me feeling as if they were staring back and watched the entire thing. The physical pain and the bruises lasted weeks. Mentally, those bruises and pain will be there the rest of my life. My chance to escape the house for just a summer was ripped out from under me. I missed my audition because my hips wouldn't stop dislocating  from struggling to get free from you. How do you explain to a doctor that something that is near impossible to do in ponite happened and get them to believe you.

The brain is an amazing *****. I was able to push out the event and for some time I didn't have to remember or so I thought. It turns out you molded me into the person I became and am now. My timidness, being touched, my eating disorder, running away, my obsession with burning my skin, the way I see myself, my uncertainty of ******* anywhere but a bathroom or closet. The fact I feel people staring at me judging me even though they aren't. You taught me a lot especially that day.

You taught me to love at a distance. Never ever put my guard down. I was showed how to build up walls to keep others out. Always question what people say and do. I learned to draw on a smile and add pep to my voice so nobody can tell I'm not alright. My self worth is only defined by the way I look. My thought's and feelings will always be disregarded. My intelligence means nothing. Someone will always take advantage or use me for their own selfish gain. I'm ugly, *****, and disgusting. I'm worthless. I don't have the right to control anything in my life unless it's in a self destructive way. If all else fails and I feel uncomfortable run away from everything. I never stare into a mirror. I don't want to see the real me. I wasn't a troubled girl or out of control. I was just a broken girl silently begging for someone to see through my actions and realize the real reason why I did things.

Everything good in my life I've learned to destroy. Who am I to believe I deserve to be happy? Writing people off without a second thought about it. Making others hurt first before they could ever think of hurting me. This has affected every aspect of my life without realizing it and way before the flashbacks and nightmares started. I've allowed people to use me like a door mat and take advantage of me because after all, I am nothing more than an object. Just a puppet with someone else controlling the strings. Making myself sick in order to get someone else's approval.

The full force of what happened came to a head a few years ago. I didn't want to live. I started cutting and burning my skin to the point it became an addiction. I tried multiple times to **** myself and every time for whatever reason I came back to life. You of all people should know that when you attempt suicide once it's always in the back of your mind every single day. It becomes yet another failure that I can tally up. I wake up in the morning annoyed I'm still alive. Because of what you did, I no longer carry my pain on the inside. It has overflowed to the outside of my body. The scars are visible for all to see.

You've made me think of things that no human should  ever entertain in their mind. Remember when you tried to **** yourself? Do you remember what people said to you? They said I was your guardian angel that day. Remember how I cried? I didn't cry because you almost died. I cried because I regret calling 911. I wish I had let you die.

I would have stood over you watching in complete delight and pleasure as the pain took over your body. See the fear stretching over your face after you regret swallowing those pills Wishing you didn't try to **** yourself. Taking notice of the vein in your neck pulsing in a  frenzied way. Attempting to beg for my help only to realize you are unseen, unheard and unloved. Knowing nobody will come to your rescue. You'll grab for me and I step away just barely out of your reach. I'd squat down for a better look. Watch you squirm and contort your body in unnatural ways and see the light flicker out of your eyes. Your chest rising and falling one last time until I hear the last exhale of your soul being dragged to the depths of Hell by greedy demons. All without remorse or care with a genuine smile. My first pure smile hiding nothing back. People should never ever have that thought about another persons life.

You are one of the lucky ones. Nobody can persuade me to press charges against you. At least not yet. You are free to be whatever you want to be and do whatever you want to do without consequence, while I'm trapped in a birdcage with no door to set me free.

As children, we have an idea of what the Boogie Man is. Long sharp teeth. A horrid odor coming from it's snake like tongue. A contorted face all covered in rancid fur. Lurking in the dark waiting for the right time to grab you and drag you under the bed to eat you alive. The truth is the Boogie Man is an unassuming figure. Could be a stranger. Could be a person you are supposed to trust. Someone with a warm, sweet smile hiding the monster inside only to come out when the opportunity presents itself. That's when the Boogie Man comes out to demolish your existence.

I've allowed you to live in my head rent free. You have silently directed my life. Eventually I will make peace with this. You will not have power over me. You will not take from me. There's nothing left to break. Eventually, someday, I will love myself. My flashbacks will end. This will become a tool to show me I can do and be anything because I am deserving. I will no longer be haunted by you. This will no longer define me. I will be able to look in the mirror and see beauty instead of dirt and ugly filth. I will start to believe others when they call me beautiful. For the first time my eyes won't be dull. I will learn to receive love without thinking strings are attached to it.  I will not feel shame or guilt. That's not my cross to bare.

I may not know who I am but I do know I am not this person. When I finally realize my worth is more than what's between my thighs, my power will return and I will no longer be fragile. I will fill the opening of the volcano inside of me and the lava will no longer erupt. The scars I wear on the outside will become a reminder that I can walk through fire without being consumed by it.

I don't believe that you deserve an ending to this letter as I don't have an ending of my pain so I will leave you with this. Someday I will glue together the broken pieces of me that you so easily shattered. And someday, someday won't be a someday but it will turn into a today. While I wait for that day to come, I'll plaster on a pretend smile with cement and be fake happy until it becomes my reality.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mtPNeKgXX_w
My Reading
Sunny Beach Apr 2018
Dear Alcohol,
I can remember it all like it's happening now. The flashbacks are so real. The wallpaper on the wall. The exact stuffed animals on my bed and their positions. The wet towel on the floor. My Tweety bird comforter all neat and clean. The smell of Mr. Bubbles that filled my room. I was held down. My small bones cracking. My innocence taken at just age 12.

You came to me. You whispered in my ear "Drink me in I will take away your pain. I will keep your secret. Take those pills and cut your arms. I will help you commit suicide."

I ended up in the hospital three times because of you. The third time I almost didn't come through. I woke three days later with tubes down my throat. My perfect voice that used to sing opera is no longer there.

You lied to me. You made things worse. I no longer need you. My secret is out. Don't come to me and tell me I am not free. My life I wasted on you. All you tried to do was **** me.

No longer yours to take,
Sunny
I was molested from 4-12 that ended in a brutal ****. I pushed those memories in the back of my mind until they took over me 2 years ago.  In rehab we were prompted to write a goodbye letter to our substance of choice and this was mine. I still have bad days where I want to die but not near as bad as it was.
Sunny Beach Apr 2018
I see it there
Everytime I go out to smoke
The water tower by my home
I hear it beacon me
The ladder from the base leading to the top
I can envison the simpleness of the escpae
Wearing white to the grave
Walking through the snow
All the way to the tower
The shiny steps of the ladder
Slowly I put one foot in front of the other
Climbing high into the star lit sky
"Don't look back Sunny, It's almost over"
I reach the top and slowly stand tall
No need to jump
I extend my arms out and slowly fall back
The feeling of free fall
The slow motion of the act
My hair whipping about
No happy memories flashing before my eyes
Just a happy satisfaction
The first time in awhile
A smile formed across my face
As I slowly go to the ground
The snow around me crimson red
No more screaming and shouting
No more hurt and pain
No more flashbacks or nightmares
That is the end of the darkness
For this girl named Sunny
Sunny Beach Apr 2018
You:
How selfish could you be? Do you know that it hurts me? Look at all the people you left behind. All the pain that you caused. I have to deal with you killing yourself. I am sad. I could've have been there for you. How dare you take your own life and leave me? You had no right to do that to me.

Me:
I hear what you are saying but listen to me. The only thing I hear in your statements is me, me, me. You tell me I am selfish yet look at what you say. My death has nothing to do with you how selfish can YOU be. All the pain that I caused does not compare to mine. Nobody was there before. I was all alone. You were too busy to care to see how my eyes were hollow. Why be there now after I'm dead? My life was my life not yours to keep. I see your anger as guilt. Now how selfish can that be?
Just sick of people saying how selfish suicide is but the reasons they come up with is more selfish than someone wanting their pain to end.

— The End —