I Am Tired

tears

I’m not a stranger to suicide. Yes I think about it from time to time, and yes, I’ve attempted it before. People have told me how suicide is selfish, it’s not the answer, there are better ways to handle things, but have they ever wondered why I’ve felt it was the only way out, my only option?

Because I couldn’t be strong anymore. I was tired. Emotionally, mentally, and physically tired.

I was forced to be strong, I didn’t acquire this because I wanted to. I was forced to by other people’s actions. When I was raped and too afraid, too embarrassed to tell anyone what happened. When my rape resulted in pregnancy and then later a miscarriage. Or the former boyfriend that was abusive. What about having family stop speaking to me. Or even the most recent assault that happened last week.

I had no one to rely on. No one to lean onto for support. My support came from me. If I didn’t stay up, didn’t keep moving, there was no one behind me to assist me. I had to do this on my own. Had to be my own backup support system, my own cheerleader, and was fucking tiring.

My mind was a dark place. Full of self doubt, criticism, victimization. If I wasn’t thinking it, I had heard it from others, and it was on replay in my head. It wouldn’t leave. The nightmares were constant as I kept replaying everything that happened to me. I’d hear others talk about people in my same situation, blaming them for what happened, reemphasizing that it was my fault, I caused it to happen. cv

I could no longer control how I felt or thought. I would cut, hit, scratch, or burn myself just to control how I felt and when I felt. I would scream as long and loud as I could into pillows or in the woods trying to get the empty out of me, releasing the blackness.

hopeless wind

Not having anyone, made it so much easier to decide what to do. No one would miss me. No one even noticed all of the changes in me. Withdrawn and quiet. Not interested in anything. Drinking a lot. Sleeping if I wasn’t working. Increasingly was doing things more and more dangerously, recklessly. It wasn’t noticed. So it was so easy to slip away at a party, take those pills and alcohol, and wish for sweet oblivion.

It was an escape from the never ending hopelessness that I was going through. It was a way to finally take a break from being strong. It allowed the mind to become quiet.

Funny thing is, I can look back on what it was like then, and see myself in the same situation now. I can easily turn those verbs from a past tense into a present one, and have how I am today. I’m going through the same situations, and again, have only myself for strength and support here. Who is here to turn to but myself.

I’m tired of being strong. I’ve been strong too long.

 

Speechless

**Rape/Assault Triggers Possible**

WeHeartIt - Broken Angel

WeHeartIt – Broken Angel

I’m in a state of shock. It doesn’t happen often, it’s rare. I’ve been through a lot, rape, abuse, miscarriage, having family turn away from me, having “friends” turn against me, so for me to be in shock over something is hard, but that’s where I am.

Would you like to know why?

This past weekend, I was assaulted. I don’t know how else to state it, except I was assaulted.

It’s probably partially  my fault. I invited this person over, allowed them into my home. I trusted this person. So there must be fault with me for this. Loneliness and feelings of abandonment can do wonders to a person. They let you invite demons and the devil into your life.

So the weekend before I destroyed me knee, which I’m still waiting to find out what’s wrong. Needless to say, it’s swollen to twice the size and the skin color is not right whilst I’m in more pain than usual, you know, that fibromyalgia thing I deal with as well. So I’m to stay off of it as much as possible. I’ve tried inviting people over, but I get turned down all of the time. Seems everyone wants you to go to them, or they’re just too busy. The people I talk to the most, don’t live anywhere close to me. So I’m on my own. I’m cooped up in my house or at work and see either coworkers or my pets. Depressing and lonely.

So this person who I hadn’t talked to in a while found out and offered to come visit. I said okay, because let’s face it, at this point anyone is better than no one. I’m talking to myself and sleeping nonstop if I’m not at work. I need human contact. So I said fine.

Do I need to go further? This were fine until he started to choke me and slap me, calling me a dirty slut and whore. I told him to stop, but he didn’t. I shut down. I didn’t know what else to do. I had to. I cannot go back to where I was before. I refuse to be that person again, but what else can I do? I just wanted him gone.

I tried to not think about it and keep going afterwards, but that night my collarbone was hurting a lot. My voice was hoarse, but I was already losing it, from screaming at a soccer match, so it wasn’t really noticeable. The bruises are covered easily by not wearing scooped neck shirts or tanks. Now how am I to deal with the PTSD that will resurface? How can I tell the guy that I currently like and want to know better, hey, guess what, I had sex with another guy, but a little bit into, he started abusing me. Sorry? Kinda fucked up isn’t it?

People are urging me to go to the police, but here’s the thing. I’m scared shitless, he said she said. I consented. I want to do the same I did for when I was raped, and forget this happened. I know I need to talk to someone, but guess what, I have no one here. The few I talk to, they wouldn’t want to most likely, or they would continue to ignore unless I’m there with them. Even then, they probably wouldn’t care. Being the only one you can rely on is never the best of situations, but it’s all I have to go on right now.

So I’m going to have to cry this out now, and then put on my tough exterior again. I need to keep going. Guess I learned my lesson though.