And so it is...

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

And so it is...

And so it is...

i feel peace inside in regards to my past. finally. i can understand why i spent so many years feeling fragmented. i had to fragment myself in order to survive everything i went through. i never split up, and i never became a multiple personality...i simply fragmented instead putting parts of me away and into boxes so i wouldnt fall apart. those pieces are together now, and the story has a linear motion to it instead of being spread around all over my being. i can think back, and know what happened and in which order, something i couldnt do before. i was not able to think of my teenage years in totality. every time i tried to, i would overload and the emotions would be too much to go through.

i do not want to discuss what happened in each event that took place, i just want to look at it as a whole. the individual occurrences dont matter so much to me, it is the resulting damage i have dealt with that matters. it is like "yes, that happened, i acknowledge it, it was awful, and it is over. i have been hurt, and i have survived. i am a good person today, and today is what matters most. those things are in the past, and are done."

i lost my childhood fast, and in a tragic way. yes, that is true. my mother was awful, that too is true. the adults around at that time chose not to see what was going on, and i met a lot of real bad men. this doesnt mean that all men are bad, nor are all mothers. this simply means that the people around me at that time were not very good nor observant. i wasnt taken care of properly when i needed to be. there are no excuses for what happened, and nothing to say that any of it was okay. it was wrong, it was bad, but it happened and is over now.

i still have not cried much beyond a dozen tears for what happened to me. i dont feel as though i need to. i think i have spent countless years being depressed, sad and frustrated over this, without knowing why i felt so much unrest in my soul. now i know the cause of the unrest. and am feeling more settled. i think peace is what is important to me now. i have already cried enough.

and so this is what has happened. i am a good person today. i am not promiscuous, and i am not usually mean hearted. i work hard to stay a good person and to keep my belief in humanity. i work hard not to become bitter inside. it would be so easy to hate the world, and to bear a grudge against everyone and everything that this happened to me. its not worth it though, being angry doesnt bring me peace, and i need peace.

i know that everything that is given out in life comes back, so it is not of my concern as to what happens/happened to those men. they have to live with what they have done, and it will come back to haunt them. it is seldom that we deeply hurt another being and not have it come back to haunt us. justice will prevail in time, i know that it will. i only have to think of the life my mother leads now to know that everything we put out comes back to us threefold.

i know that some day i will meet someone, i have no doubt about that. i am in no rush either. overall, i have a pretty good life alone and dont need someone to complete me. i dont feel so complicated anymore. i also do not relish the idea of ever having to tell someone all this mess either though, it is a lot to tell someone who doesnt really know me. the real life guy knew almost nothing of any of my history, the online guy knew just a bit more. neither of them ever knew the full story, and i dont know if i ever would have told them.

i know that if i am to ever have a deep and meaningful relationship with someone, that i will have to face telling them the truth. **sighs** maybe that will be a sign that it is okay, i will be able to tell my story to the man i am to love. i used to talk more to my boyfriends when i was younger, today i keep more inside. funny how i can type it all out for anyone to read, yet i cant talk to a man one on one about it. i am sure that that will change some day. i know that i will have to talk openly to a man about it, and am sure i will when the time is right. maybe i will just send them to my blog instead.

i understand more how it is that i came to care for the online guy. it is still hard for me to let go of him, and i still miss him after it being more than three months that we talked last. i still miss the real life guy too, more than i care to admit, and it has been eight months. i actually miss him more than the online guy as he was in the real world with me and the other guy has always been somewhat removed. both of these were safe men for me as neither was capable of giving himself to me. it doesnt mean that i loved them any less though. i fell for the real life guy the first time i met him, it hit me hard, and makes me believe that there is love at first sight. i fell in love with the online guy slowly over time, always yearning for what i could not have. i know that, in time, i will stop thinking of either one of these men, and will let go. it is actually pretty positive that i am able to love at all, given what i have gone through in life.

i finally cried over the online guy tonight, and am starting to let him go. i have to. it is time. i am feeling like the connection is severed now anyhow, and has been for some time. he is gone, and isnt coming back. i need to accept this.

i still feel like the real life guy is around some place in the background. i dont feel like our time together is done. this is my gut feeling, not my logic. logic says he is long gone, instinct tells me he isnt and there is still a connection of sorts. my connection with the online guy is broken, the real life guy remains.

i am cold. the summer heat left a couple of days ago, and the house is cold. i am going to go put some warm clothes on, and make hot chocolate. i have worked piling up around me, and should tackle a few more hours before sleep.

hot chocolate and warm clothes, that is what will make me happy tonight. it is the small things in life that are important.

and so it is...



*****
jan 16, 2010

as a later note to this posting...

i wound up seeing the real life guy again after 9 months of not dating, and we were involved for almost another year. i finally told him i loved him after 2.5 years of knowing him, it literally took that long for me to feel "safe" with him, only to have the relationship end after doing this. i still don't understand why we didn't have a full relationship as we had almost everything in common beside his gross materialism and wealth and my lack of social status - we laughed, talked, hung out, etc and even our last time together was great with oodles of chemistry and interaction. since everything ended, even though i still feel he is in the background somewhere, i have emotionally let him go and just simply hope he is happy, and am content knowing that the time we shared was good. as well, we have zero communication these days, which is for the best at this time.

untold stories

 Wednesday, August 01, 2007

untold stories 

07/31/07 

When I was a little girl

I used to dance

I played with my friends

After school

When I was a little girl

I used to dance

I read lots of books

In a cherry tree

When I was a little girl

I used to dance

I spoke to the trees

And to the plants

When I was a little girl

I used to dance

Then one 

Day

It.

All.

Changed.

We left my step-dad.

And my life became worse than it had ever been.

I came home from school

One afternoon

Found my mother upstairs

Almost dead

I was frightened and scared

And no adult was there

I called to the bar

For my step-dad

I loved him, and he was good to me.

I missed him, I never wanted to leave him, and my mother made me leave with her.

He came big and strong

To help with my mom

An ambulance came

She was gone

My world it turned black

No light entered in

I started to forget how to

Dance with my friends

The memories are gone

No reminder remaining

But a hole in my heart

Was unfilled

My life was unsure

And safety was none

And so came the start of

My song

A man she met

And moved us in

Four weeks later his wrath

We endured

I think I was outside

Watching from inside

He smashed on the walls

Of our home

Frightened and scared

With no place to run

My new home life

Had begun

He had a big dog

Black, with trusting brown eyes

Two feet tall

With long ears

He fed him a beer

Held his head to pour it in

The big beautiful dog

Fell down

The man laughed so hard

Thought it humour and fun

My heart broke inside

For the dog

A few weeks later

I was sleeping on the floor

My mom and that man

Down the hall

Tiger was his name

And sex was his game

He found me sleeping

There

I was very young

And he was twice my age

Fifteen feet away

No one cared

I learned to drink

And to do drugs at home

Believing they were the right

Things to do

Violence was normal

Safety was none

And no one watched out

For me

I cut my hand open

Blood running down

Went into the house

For some help

Company was over

The party going strong

And nobody noticed

Me bleed

One night he was angry

And smashed a car window with wood

Trying to attack my

Mom

I tried to defend her and was

Dragged back in the house and was

Beaten with a coat hanger in a closet by

Their friend

I slept on the floor

With the dirt and the dust

An old blanket was

My bed

He came home one night

And stood over me

Took out his penis

And “peed”

And nobody knew

And nobody cared

For the little girl

Who was me

We found a new town

And an old dirty house

The ceiling was falling

Down

My life it grew worse

And violence was a curse

I was rolled in a ball and

Was thrown

One day he was sweeping

All through the room

I said something rude and

Wore the broom

The fights were so bad

And home was unsafe

I ran in the snow with

No shoes

A man found me cold

And offered a ride

The local drug dealer

He was tough

He got me safe and warm

And wiped away my tears

And was the kindest man who

I met

A fight on the stairs

Lighting was dim

My mother was yelling

At me

I left.

But my body remained.

Three.

Feet.

Away.

And I watched.

And stopped feeling any pain.

After school one day

The man came onto me

Stuck his tongue down my throat

And I don’t know anymore

The time is black

No reminders remain

The story locked deep

Inside me

I cut a hole in my leg with a razor blade to see if I could feel.

I stopped eating my food

And became really thin

Thinking to vanish

Away

I spent days in my bed

Alone with no food

And death entered in and 

Spoke to me

I became unafraid to die.

A drive down the road

I was taken in

But the doctor he never

Rescued me

I stood on the steps

In the falling snow

Watched the man beat his dog

With his boots

Smeared with food on my neck

From a very bad fight

I ran to my friends to

Get away

I saw my friends homes

Peaceful and warm

With no holes in the floor

Underneath

No bruises and blood

No beer and no pot

No cigarettes

No sex

They seemed so safe.

And I knew that there was more

And a better life for me

So I asked to be taken

Away

And they took me.

My foster home was okay

In the country I lived

Thinking all was safe for

Awhile

The third time was there

He was twice my age

And nobody rescued

Me

People all around

Yet no one heard

No one came into

The room

And I tried to kill myself.

And was moved to a different house.

Holy Jesus Christ, our Savior he

Will come and he will rescue you

Repent

Repent

Repent

And the lord will come and take you

On judgment day

Repent

Repent.

And they sent me away to

A new place

To make me

“better”

And I grew worse.

And I forgot about dancing

Sex and smoking and

“Jeanie is Crying”

And I built my land of

Cherries

I ran away and wound up with bikers

I ran away and lived on the street

And in the train station

In Toronto

And they locked me up and

Shot me full of sedatives and

They took my clothes 

Away

And left me

Naked

On the

Floor

With a plastic covered

Mattress in a

Cold room with

Steel bars

And steel mesh and

They

Observed

Me

As I ripped the 

Flesh

From my hands

Trying to

Punch.

My.

Way.

Out.

They left me in

The dark

Alone

Terrified

The scars on my hands fade with time.

And this

Was to make

Me

“Better”

Man number four got me there

no one was looking no one watched

And no one knew

At all

He had bright blue eyes

I stopped crying

I hypnotized away the pain

Left my body and went

Far away

And I knew in my heart

I really was

Really and truly was

Alone

And nobody heard and nobody came and nobody rescued me

I learned not to love, not to remember, that nowhere was safe, and 

That sex could buy me a bed so I could sleep in the warmth off the street

Fifteen to eighteen months later

I didn’t go to school

And I didn’t dance with my friends

Anymore

I lost my tree 

I lost the books

I lost the plants

I lost me

I was not a little girl 

Anymore

I was thirteen

Maybe fourteen

My innocence and childhood were gone.

I will wrap my poppet warm tonight. She represents myself, my lost self, my lost dance. She has eyes of lapis lazuli to see the truth, to speak from within. Her mouth is red and she smiles. She is me.

I have candles burning. Blood red for life; blue for the west, for water, for emotion, for healing. Perfumed smoke fills the air to purify and cleanse.

I am whole.

I am here.

I am alive.

I am not afraid to live.

And I am not afraid to die.

My life is a gift and

I am a lucky woman

To be here

At all

I still cannot cry but the story is out now.

By the age of fifteen, I was sexually assaulted three more times by three other men. Of the seven men, only two were my own age. The other five men were two to four times older than me. My mothers boyfriend most likely sexually assaulted me, he definitely sexually assaulted my sister. He probably masturbated rather than peed on me when I lay curled up on the floor in a blanket. I don’t know how many more sexual assaults there may have been, or how many men gave me a place to sleep in exchange for sex. Because of trading sex, I never had to sleep on the streets although I ran away a lot. The same men also fed me. I think most of those men were in their late teens or early twenties. There are black holes in my memory from thirteen until fifteen, maybe sixteen. I think I lost most of that time.

Late in that time period, my boyfriend’s family reached out for me and I grasped on tight. That is why I am here today. They taught me “home,” they taught me “me.” I will always be thankful more than anyone could ever know. They did not then, and even now, know all these stories. At the time, my boyfriend did not know some of what happened because I could not tell him even though some of that took place when I was with him.

The stories have not been told together until today. I am forty one years old. It has taken me about twenty five years to tell the unspoken complete story of my early teenage years. The stories started with leaving my step-dad, and ended when I was around thirteen to fourteen years old. I don’t remember much violence after that time period. By the age of sixteen, I had my own apartment and there were no more sexual assaults in my life. For the first time in years, I was finally safe.

lou