anger

there's something about anger,
that i always seem to not understand.
the way it comes and goes.
it lingers.
oh, the way it lingers.

i feel content.
i feel passionate about many things.
driven.

maybe even healed, sometimes.
or maybe just a little bit.

but, this anger,
it comes up to me and shakes the shit out of me.

ANGER!?!!
i can't get over it.

you are still one angry bitch!

i've tried to shake this feeling many times,
leave it behind me,
i've tried to overcome it..
and go above it.
saying i'm so much more than this!
hell, sometimes i believe myself and think i'm free.

what is this freedom?
what does it amount too?
and just how much does it cost?

we must endure/
i must endure.

detached

as a kid i remember peering inside the house from the windows,
(condensation from my breath all built up) my tiny fingers so cold i couldn't even bend them.
but, that was my choice...i was playing a game.
i was playing escape,
running away in my mind.
at that point as a child i wanted to be anywhere but inside that house.

its amazing what happens when you look at things from the outside.
you feel a bit detached.
also, it doesn't seem to hurt as much.
now, i'm going to say,
i know that's probably not the healthiest approach to things.
actually i'm quite certain, it can't be.
but, to be struggling as much as i did from time to time
sometimes it's all i could really do.
i watched myself, outside of myself
pretending that it wasn't me.
it wasn't me.
i ran away.


i've found myself doing that a lot lately, like when i was a kid.
things always seem very much surreal and unattached that way.
a bit cloudy, murky, and a lot more faint.
the pain of the memories and my dysfunction is sometimes overwhelming.
my whole life i've runaway.
in my mind and i would say sometimes even in my heart.
in a way my thoughts have always been detached.
i always wanted to spend my time thinking this thing didn't happened to me.
those memories and pain aren't mine.

and in the end, it hits me harder,
always.

the truth is,

most of the time i don't know what to expect. 

i am fragile.

i am emotional.

i am many things, all the time.

i get so confused.

i'll admit most of the time, i feel so alone, surrounded by people.

i feel like screaming.

can you not see me?!

can you not see my anguish.

it is written across my heart, i bleed it.

i am almost certain that this is something that never really gets better.

it's just a haunting.

a haunting of evelyne. 

how long can it linger above me, in my dreams and in my thoughts.

relax, you're not alone

open your eyes now,
we're all wounded.
surrounded by uncertainties
followed by nightmares and night terrors.

in real life
we must learn to breathe all over again
in and out
pacing ourselves
not taking in too much air that quickly.

close your eyes and just breathe
think of beautiful things
of family and friends.
of good times.

everything in life is never easy.

breathing, living, loving

simple and complicated

only human- a calling for prayer

i don't know how to feel about certain things in my life.
these emotions, these feelings,
they make me only human.

pain, frustration, feelings of uncertainty
it's the only way to feel
the only natural human way to react.

emotional reactions
lived in fear,
lived in blood and tears
the most honest of reactions
true and pure.

what is right?
what is natural?
if i cry, if i bleed
how much do i really care?
how much is just human response?

last night
i had a dream that you died, again.
i saw you run into traffic,
and get hit by a car.
i woke up
and tears formed.
they ran down my face.
emotionally distressed
i wiped them confused,
with my pulse racing.
i was emotionally conflicted about it.
but i know my feelings are honest,
i know i am only human.

when being raised in chaos,
you get conflicted
you get confused
you debate with what is right and what is wrong.
it's twisted
it's ugly
it's forever unclear
and endlessly questionable.

i need to learn how to just let go.
i could question every feeling,
every damn emotion
but, i would never survive that.
i could never be free if i did.

i know you are the reason i hold anger so close to my heart to this day.
i must learn to let go,
i must be free of it,
or i will enviably explode/implode
and let myself be destroyed
let all the things i love be destroyed.

i always feel as if i take two steps forward,
followed by ten steps back.
why must i always let it come back to this?
god help me

a raw reality

as i lay here,
i write
conflicted and confused.

i am withdrawn
i do that from time to time.
as unhealthy as i know my withdrawal is.
sometimes it's the only thing that helps me endure
the transitions of pain.

this pain,
it's always evolving.
sometimes more than my own fashion
more than my own self.

how do i not let it overcome,
if every time it comes back
it comes back
new,
improved,
and ready to cut me deep.

till i bleed.

1992-1993

in 8th grade i bought my first depeche mode album..

depeche mode- songs of faith and devotion

their songs still make me very emotional to this day.
it's a beautiful, beautiful album.
if you haven't heard it, maybe you should...at least once for me.

march twenty second

that day will forever be special to me.
it was my very first day writing in this blog.
my journal.
my heart.

thank you for following.

for my silent readers,
thank you for being my inspiration to start this blog.

and to all of you who have now traded similar stories of pain and with me.
who have cried with me.
thank you for everything.
together we will heal through our tragedies.
become stronger.
and be something else,
than a victim.

everything changes

sometimes something happens and it changes everything.

that something happened to me,

or at least the beginning of that something.

i know i don't make any sense.

but give me time to heal and process things a little more
and i will explain.

everything.

i know i have been quite absent here lately,
but that is definitely a good thing.

i'm at peace.
just know this.

i'm at peace.

uneasiness

sometimes i wonder,
where will today end

i lose contorl over my emotions a lot lately.
i'm such a big mess.
it's embarrassing.

i wake up only hoping,
dreaming,
today is a new day.
today will be better.

only to be in a worse position by nightfall.

sundown only brings uneasiness.

normalcy

http://evymcc.tumblr.com/post/15412845977/an-endless-pursuit-of-searching-for-a-feeling-of

feeling through the pain

http://evymcc.tumblr.com/post/16182921575/i-got-chills-when-i-stumbled-upon

a discovery

sometimes we discover things about ourselves
a little too late
its that belated-ness that makes us doubt
makes us wonder if we can really actually do this

life in real time

and in the end
living, breathing...
remembering.
tragic and in a frenzy
unhealthy, unstable
what does everything mean?
if i live and i feel,
if i breathe and dream
what does that mean?
i have been feeling,
dreaming nightmares.
like they were life in real time.
heart racing,
pulse quickened.
tears awaken,
my sleep.

.molestation.

it's a hard thing to say,
to admit
it took me years...
years...
for me to even be able to say the word
molestation.


i knew it was wrong,
i always knew it was so wrong.
but, i was so young when it started...
i was so afraid and so brainwashed.
how would i know what to say or do..
i was confused.

stripped.


i was molested.
for over five years of my life.
when it started is vague..i'm thinking six,
but i know i was about eleven when it finally stopped.
when i finally told my older sister..

i remember thinking about telling her for months,
the courage always seemed to escape me.
i remember practicing how i was going to tell her on my walks home from school.
how hard that time was for me.
saying those words, for the first time
were the hardest part of this journey.
this recovery.
this self finding.
how do you find yourself in a little girl that's been molested for the majority of her life?
i was so lost, and i felt so alone.

i remember thinking she was going to yell at me,
and run off and tell my mom.

i was so afraid of my mom.

my abuser had created a monster out of my mom.
telling me she hated me.
that i was a mistake.
that she wouldn't care in the least if i was gone.

and for a very long time
i believed him

that's how i lived,
that was my truth,
the only thing i knew
for years as a child.

really looking back,
it's almost unbelievable to me.

somehow, through all of that shit
an eleven year old girl
found the courage to tell her first someone.

to spit out that word that was deteriorating her entire being
from the inside out.

i was molested.
i am a victim of sexual, physical and verbal abuse.
i was called every horrible name in the book before the age of ten.
i was beaten with any object laying around.
i knew an array of sexual disgusting-ness no kid should ever know.
ever.

all the while under the same roof my family lived in.
without anyone knowing.

with a silent shout i wait
to become stronger, to find myself

everyday has new beginnings

another day...

so, what i've discovered

is that we're all here to help each other.

balance our insecurities out.

breathe.

i hadn't realized it but

its really great to be able to have good conversations 

and good cry's...

talk openly and with out shame

about our situations,

our problems,

our individual cases,

our baggage,

our pains.

it lets our souls breathe,

in a way never imagined.

another day to discover and to realize.

we are wonderful

just they way we are

a letter for people who know me, love me, and help me on this journey

i can feel it,
the change
it's a sense of flourishing.
it's abundance
coming at me in waves.
and i don't exactly know how to feel,
how to take it
breath by breath.
you all hold me with such love,
and sincerity.

thank you

it means so much to me.
thank you for forgiveness,
for taking the time to understand me,
for all the patience in the world.

myself...
mentally,
emotionally would definitely not be here
without you.

thank you for being a part of me
a part of my recovery