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

insecurities are judged

how do we know where to begin,
and when to end things.
our own insecurities blanket us,
from within ourselves.
never having to leave ourselves for comfort.
some days i imagine this to be easier,
some days, in my dreams i imagine this to be easier.
over and over again
these tricks we play on ourselves.
in the end,
by ourselves...
shaken and barely breathing

negative space

if i survived the abuse,
i must survive the recovery.

the recovery
it's a daily thing,
a yearly thing
like holidays
like birthdays
year by year
the smells are always the same
the feelings are always the same
negative.
negative and empty

i wake up from a half sleep
wake up and decide,
let me live and breathe another day
let me be a mother,
a wife, a sister and a daugther,
maybe even a friend,
i don't do this very well...
a dreamer.
a dreamer of the best dreams ever imagined.

the best me that i can
with all my being

lost

some nights i can still hardly sleep

last night was one of those nights

anxious beyond control

my palms sweaty,

my hands freezing cold

what does an anxiety attack feel like?

does it feel like i do now?

i try over and over to shut my eyes and think....

of nothing...

nothingness is never enough

before i can open my eyes,

thoughts invade like a plague...

i cant open them quick enough..

the thoughts swarm in.

like ants to a morsel of ethan's breakfast left behind.

i shake my head...

like i'm going to knock them out or something ridiculous

with no use..

i try to think of other things,

my kids, my husband

but i still see it there..

lurking..

every damn time i try and close my eyes.

this is how i live,

when will i be able breathe..

freely

all to myself, just for myself.

for now i'll just be waiting

and having insomnia

i hide from the truth that i am..

i must be more honest with myself..

i think i need a therapist