I Am Tired

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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.

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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 Withdrawn and quiet.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.

 

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12 Years Later: An Open Letter to My Rapist

 

Mr Ironic for Sexual Assault Awareness Month
The Jerk That Destroyed Me
The Guy That Raped Me
My Rapist


To The Guy That Changed My Life,

Twelve years ago today, you possessed me, took me, and started an invasion that went into my  mind as well. Do you even remember me? Do you remember what you did to me

You took advantage of me. You drugged me and didn’t take no for an answer. There was no consent given, but that didn’t stop you. You raped me.

It was a week before my 21st birthday, and you destroyed the girl that I was then. Shattered her beyond repair.

Do you know that you were almost a father again? That’s right, you left a “gift” behind,  a constant reminder of what you had done. I found out on Mother’s Day. Ironic isn’t it? Ruined that holiday for me as all I had wanted was a family of my own, yet the only family I was going to have was the child of the guy that raped  me. It’s okay though, apparently fate took control as I had a miscarriage right after I had decided I had wanted to keep the baby. It was not that child’s fault.

I would scream and cry, wasting tears on you, while I was in the shower or had music up so loud so no one would hear. I felt dirty, used, worthless. I hurt beyond words and had no control. I shut down, becoming an emotional zombie, allowing no emotions to be felt.

When I wanted to feel something, on my own terms, I would cut, punch, scratch, or burn myself. If it hurt me, then I would do it. I had control that way.

I bet you didn’t know that I had made a New Year’s Resolution at the end of that year? I tried to commit suicide. TRIED. I was rather unsuccessful, obviously as I’m here writing this to you. I didn’t want to be in the darkness I had fallen so far into. I wanted the hold you had on me gone. The anger and hate, sadness and hopelessness, I wanted it all gone. I needed the memories and images gone, the flashbacks that wouldn’t end to disappear.

 

I never told anyone what happened to me. I was embarrassed that you had this control on me. I didn’t want to admit that I needed rescuing to anyone. I didn’t like that I was now a victim, helpless. I thought I was better than that. I could not bring myself to say “Save me, I need help.”

I did it though, despite you. I saved myself. I became a survivor, a fighter. I grew stronger and took control. I fought for my survival. I had to, as my only other choice was taken away from me, suicide. I sought help at the rape center. I learned that the only hold you had on me was the one I created in my mind.

I broke it.

I tore you away as if you were nothing, because that’s what you are. You are not worth a single thought. You don’t have control of me. You mean nothing to me.

How does it feel to have the tables turned? You treated me as if I was nothing, and now you are nothing.

You know, if it wasn’t for you, I would not be the person that I am today. I wouldn’t be strong. I would not be the fighter that I am, nor would I be able to love and accept myself, in turn letting myself love others. I now believe in myself. I kick ass now.

For that, I thank you, but I still hate and despise you, like the worthless fuck you are,
Your Former Victim
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Escape

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Angel of death, come take me away
Remove the sorrow and emptiness surrounding me
Release the pain, erase the tears, destroy the heartache
Let your sweet black nothingness be all I see

Oh Sweet Girl, why do you think it’s your time
You are yet so young, with life in front of you
What will those around you think
When you have decided to pass on through?

Oh Death, Those  around me are soulless and cruel
Their hearts are empty, mouths spewing hatred
They hide the evil they contain with a smile and lies
Always reveling in the horror you have tasted.

Sweet Girl, put those pills away
Come over here and let me hold you for a moment
Take comfort that not all is lost, not all are as they seem
Tell me again, why it is that you are so broken

Death, there is so much emptiness within.
When I slowly remove that with some with love and joy,
There are those that wrench it away from me,
Laughing all the while, like my life is just a toy.

Sweet Girl, put the alcohol down,
Take hold of this hand of mine and rest your head
Letting me kiss your painful tears away
And please finish telling me all that has yet to be said

My Angel of Death, this one told me he was an angel
He said he loved me and I was his one.
I didn’t see the evil he possessed, he didn’t hear my NO
Now that my innocence is gone, his cruelty done.

Sweet Baby Girl, can you please put that razor down
Look me in the eyes, tell me again why
Why do you seek to end it all this way
Are you going to give up and not even try?

Kind Death, Another one told me I was his World
That we were going to be Heaven on Earth
What he showed me was hell with a fist
To all who could see, I was nothing of worth.

Sweetness, can’t you see, that there is hope.
Step out of that water and listen to this.
You still have life left in you and years to go
It might not look like it but soon there’s bliss.

Death that’s what I’m asking for now, sweet bliss
Give me what I seek, for nothing else has proven true
Love and hope have failed, people prove false to their words.
Faith is worthless, and ending this is my way to get through.

Oh Little one, What lies you have been told.
For what I see is one so strong from trials you face
A beacon of hope for those struggling as well
You have been living and surviving with so much grace.

Death, I do not see this grace and strength
Pain, darkness, hurt, betrayal, and anguish are what I know
Where do you see this survivor, this one full of hope
For here all I see is hopelessness, loss, and nothing left but woe?

Sweetest Baby Girl, You have survived and battled on
You can still be here, showing them how wrong they are
Fights and battles, you’ve made it through them all,
You haven’t lost yet, though you carry some scars.

Death, why do you care so much for one wanting to die
One ready to surrender all that they are to you
I’m seeking a way out, to finally be at peace,
And you’re turning me away, have I no true value?

Sweet Little One, sorry to deceive you, but Death I am not
You overflow with love, a soul so sweet it’s hard to find
A warrior’s spirit you have, strength abounding within you
Death does not deserve you, for he would be so unkind.

Sweet One, you have life and love to experience still
There will be heartache and pains, failures and losses along with lows,
Scars and bruises, but you will win love, hope, and faith.
You are the author of this story, now show me how it goes.

Out of the Darkness – Pittsburgh

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Once upon a time, a Stormtrooper introduced me to an organization called The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. It took a little bit for me to look into everything, as I was one to refuse to admit I had attempted suicide. I’m still here, so it was a failure, and I do not like to admit failure. When I admitted to myself that I went through that and was ready to share, I took a look at the foundation.

I wish I would have known about them when I needed them that New Year’s Eve.

There are many others out there that are currently affected by suicide, either from struggling with the thoughts, or trying to cope with the loss of a someone they know from suicide. American Foundation for Suicide Awareness is there to help. If you look at their homepage, you have the options to look at Understanding and Preventing Suicide, Help with Coping from a Loss, Advocacy and Public Policy, Research, News, and Ways to Give. One of these ways to give is through your local chapter’s Out of the Darkness Walk. I took the plunge despite only having a short period of time to fund raise and created a team, The Tutu Convention.

The name come from the wonderful mind of Rara, and a conversation her and I had. She had shared how her niece told her that the reason she was sad was because she was not wearing her tutu. This promptly lead to me sharing a picture of the Eh Bee family all wearing tutus. This promptly lead to us discussing how there should be a blogging convention BITCon (Bloggers in Tutus Convention). It would be the happiest convention ever. Well since I cannot put this convention together at the moment, I’m doing the next best thing, I’m going to participate in this walk wearing a Tutu. Thus the team name is Tutu Convention.

Eh Bee Tutu Power

Eh Bee Tutu Power

I strongly encourage all to check out their local chapters and become involved. I’ve signed to volunteer to speak and work at events, as well as become an advocate for this organization. I try to educate all that I can. Therefore, I’m education you. Please, take the time to look at their website, as well as check out my team page (or the Stormtrooper’s as well), and either join if you’re in the area, or donate and share the page. Help those that need this organization.

My Team Page
My Personal Page
Stormtrooper’s Page
American Foundation’s Page

Losing Myself

what-is-depressionDriving home the other day, I looked out at the river I drive along and it looked peaceful. So peaceful that I wanted to go in and submerge myself without plans to come up.

It was a wake up call for me. I’ve not been paying attention to myself lately and missing the signs. Urges, thoughts, feelings, those things you are suppose to take note of about yourself to make sure you are mentally healthy, I’ve ignored them and now depression has taken hold of me and pulled me back down to a place I hoped to not see again. I’m within the darkness of my mind, depressions shadows and lifelessness swallowing me whole once again.

It’s funny the things you can ignore in the need to feel “normal” to pretend this group of ugly illnesses do not exist. The forgetfulness increasing when normally remembering everything. The order of things suddenly becoming the most important thing, along with keeping a routine the exact same every day with no deviations, otherwise everything feels off. Feeling more of an outsider and unwanted. Wondering if you were no longer around if people would miss you or even notice. Always wanting to sleep and feeling utterly exhausted. Interest in anything has become obsolete, and forcing yourself to go anywhere or do anything is the only way things will happen. Anxiety choking you, fear and panic drowning you.

The world has become black, covered in shadows, with no way out. My thoughts have turned a bit morbid, darker, bleak, suicidal. Whether or awake or asleep, the world is black. When looking at my palette for the day, all I find is misery and hopelessness to paint with, having washed the joy down the sink. That little pill that makes me feel alive, has stopped producing it’s magic.

Suicidal thoughts and inclinations have started coming at an alarming rate, along with the urges to harm myself. The urges were at such a steady increase I needed to do something. I booked an appointment with my tattoo artist, and had some work done. I sport a reminder on my forearm, that I am the author of my life. I make the choice whether I live or die. I need that reminder quite often right now. I need to talk myself away from hurting myself, away from ending things.

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These thoughts and feelings of being out of control of myself and my life, worthlessness, constant exhaustion, blackness, forgetfulness, failure, they need to stop.

I called the psychiatric hospital and clinic as soon as I became to come out of the fog enough to notice what has been going on. I’m in a depressive episode, and not just a small one. I need help.

I thought I was strong and able to overcome this. I’m not. I’m weak. I’m failing. I cannot do this. I’m fighting. I’m fighting against myself and I’m losing. wylMentalHealth

I’m back in therapy now. Only had the evaluation and the first session, but it’s a start. I see the doctor on the 14th about my medication(s) to start having that adjusted.

My first official session was about goals. We created long term and short term goals. My goals are set to help myself, not anyone else, but me. I am to work on and focus on me. This is me time. That’s going to take getting use to. I don’t know how to focus on me. That has always seemed selfish to me, however I’m told that if I want to get better, some things need to be about me, so these goals will help that. I want to gain interest back in art, and have my own shop set up to sell my work. Also, I want to attend a conference for blogging and writing, finally, I want to have self esteem to have better relationships, stable relationships. In order to achieve these, I am going to start with getting my art and crafts area set up. I have been told I need to write and publish an article every week. As for self esteem, well I need to have one positive mantra a week, whether it be something I thought of, or found on the interwebs.

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Going to try to do this. I have no ambition right now. It’s lacking like the Sahara lacks water and vegetation. I am empty. I have a tough fight ahead of me. I hope I’m up for this. I hope I can make it. I hope I don’t give up and give in. I have demons inside of me, and they are trying to escape. How can I let them out and not let them win?

Golden Tarnished Apples

Like Golden Apples in Silver Settings so is a Word Spoken at the Right Time.  – Proverbs 25:11tarished

I remember hearing and reading that bible quote when I was little, but never really thinking twice about it. Until now that is. Never has became frequently lately.

As a child I lived in my own world, mine and my brother’s that we invented and shared. I didn’t feel lonely, I didn’t feel depressed, I didn’t need to know that people realized I existed. I had my brother after all, and we kept each other company. Being a year apart we did most things together and entertained each other. It was a funny competition like thing we had where we had to prove that what the other was doing, we could to. We looked out for each other, and while we picked on each other, no one was allowed to mess with the other. I knew I wasn’t the only person alive, I had my brother. He accepted that I was weird and goofy usually, and a little off from others, not as outspoken.

We were like this

We were like this

Then life happened and we grew more apart, went our separate ways. He had his plethora of friends, I had my very few amount. He got married, has a kid, his own family. I was raped, became pregnant, lost a child, became introverted, tried suicide, hurt myself. We went different routes as life normally does. I lost that constant companion, that person that affirmed that I wasn’t alone, that things was ok, the one person I told my troubles to. I lost my connection to people, that little bit that tied me to life.

He provided words to me. Words that reaffirmed that I was alive and not alone. Words of encouragement. The silly teasing that goes on between brother and sister. Standing against our sister together, her verbal abuse.

Then slowly the shadows consumed me, the darkness of my mind being all that I saw, misery and despair all I heard, nothing being what I felt, I was nothing.

I had to learn to survive on my own, and it was a beautiful disaster.

I bottled everything inside of me. I stayed in my shadows. I shared nothing, and pretended I was invisible. It must have worked because no one talked to me. No one asked how I was doing. No one cared. I started to drink whenever I could. I was hurting myself in multiple ways. No one seemed to think twice about it. No one questioned it. There were no words. Silence, if anything, pushed me further away from life.

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I lived in a world of silence, darkness, emptiness; a vacuum. My life was nothing.

Then something happened. A friend I didn’t think was there anymore spoke to me. He asked me to get help. Someone noticed, and then spoke. It stuck with me. I did not act upon it right away. I had no light, no way to escape, but I would find it, because of those words, that request asking me to get help.

Eventually I got that help, saw a psychiatrist, actually a legion of them, as apparently I was a bit more twisted, broke, and lost than originally thought to be. My first psychiatrist sent me to group therapy when she saw some of my wounds and scars. My group wasn’t just about being in a group with others that were disturbed and wanted to find ways to end things, it was groups of psychiatrists and therapists. Eventually I learned ways to manage, to deal, to not hide in the shadowy darkness all of the time, though as those that suffer from mental illnesses know, there are relapses, ups and downs, as this roller coaster never ends that our brains are on. I still have issues. I still battle, still feel alone, helpless, and at times, I want to end it all. Other times I’m in an okay place where I can manage.

In those helpless times, it seems that I have someone watching out for me. When I need it the most, I will get a text, an IM, a Snapchat, or an email, some form of communication just asking how I am, or saying hi. I have a lifeline, a tether to the world reaching out to me. Something to connect me back to people. I didn’t ask, I didn’t hope for it, it was just there when I needed it. A treasure.

invisible

I try to hide everything and hold it in. It’s who I am, so when that small word, or something comes across to show that someone is thinking about me, it brings a little more of me to the picture. I start to fill in. I’m not invisible. I don’t have my brother the way I did before, and it still is the hardest thing to want to bring these types of things up to him, but I’m learning that there are others out there that lend those words and thoughts, those lights and lifelines and tethers I desperately need at times.

II try to be this tether to others. I love sitting down at a computer and writing. I open up friends list and see who is on and send messages out saying hi. I go through my contacts in my phone and send a good morning, how are you to people. I’ve had people do that to me when I’m at my lowest, or needing a word spoken, I hope I can do the same to others. I hope to provide golden apples, albeit a bit tarnished. I apologize for that.

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Anniversaries – Not Always Happy

So, I don’t usually bring this up at all, but it’s hitting me a bit hard this year. On this date 11 years ago (which happened to be Mother’s Day), I found out I was pregnant as a result of the rape. This year it’s like a punch in the stomach. And I know in a few weeks in July, it will be the anniversary of my miscarriage.

When I found out about the pregnancy, I admit, I was shocked and devastated. I now have a reminder of what had happened to me, and have it always there. I didn’t want that. I felt that  would not be able to care for this child without constant reminders. I didn’t tell my family, because then I’d have to tell them about the rape, not something I wanted to do.

It took a little bit of time, and I’m unsure why, but my mind changed. I accepted the fact that I was pregnant, as well as realized that it was not this baby’s fault. This baby that was starting to grow inside of me, was not who  hurt me and took away what was me. This could be a chance to make myself better, perhaps get over what had happened, or at least move past it. This could be my silver lining, after all, I was always wanting my own family and children.

Then the bottom dropped out again. At around 14 weeks pregnant, I lost the baby. My world fell apart again. After just realizing that I had a chance to find a bit of happiness and move on a little bit, it disappeared again. I had a bubble of sunshine, that was swallowed back up in the empty. It was after this that I had slipped into the deepest darkest depression that took forever to get out of. You know the one, where I was self harming, attempted suicide, cut myself off from anyone, so on and so on.

So for some reason this year, it’s hitting me hard. I’ve cried a few times this week and felt awful. If I’m feeling like this now, what’s it going to be like in a couple of weeks? I hope the dark doesn’t become too much.

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