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Posted by chelirach , 02 May 2012 · 86 views

I dont want to touch this feeling. I want to deny. I want to not think about it. I want to forget. I want to pretend that I had a happy childhood. I want to pretend that I had parents who loved me and cared about me and protected me. I want to pretend I was a normal little girl who had tea parties and played with dolls. I want to pretend I was a normal teenager who had friends and wore makeup and did her hair and talked about boys. I want that to be my history. I want that to be my life. I donít want this. Its an overwhelming emptyness. It is terror. It is this confusing mess that I cannot even begin to untangle, I cannot even put words to it. I donít understand it. I donít understand why this all happened, it seems so absolutely insane to me. I want to know what I did wrong. I feel like if I had not been born broken none of it would have happened. I failed basic development in utero. As my mother said I was supposed to be the baby that she enjoyed, and then she couldnít. I was unloveable. I had no worth, I had no value. My needs did not matter. What happened to me did not matter. I was rejected, cast off, ridiculed and bullied. a complete freak. And any time I responded to this I was put down. I was bad. I was wrong. I cant even talk about ESU. Or middle school. It took forever even to type that. It feels like to much. Far to overwhelming. I go into denial. It couldnít have happened. Or into minimization where I tell myself it was not so bad and compare it to others who had it worse and convince myself they think the same about me. I am terrified to think about it, look at it, look at the darkness and see what is there. I go numb and blank. It is easier to hate myself. It is easier to take it out on myself, to hate me and my body. To believe it is all my fault, I caused it, I am to blame. I am horrible and worthless and I donít matter. That feels safe. In some bizarre way it feels like I am in control. If it is my fault and I caused it and I am to blame then I was never the helpless victim, I was not the wounded child. I am wrong and bad and it was all my fault. I deserved it all, I deserved to be abused I deserved to be raped. It does not matter what anyone does to me it does not matter what happens to me. No one cares, I am alone and everyone hates me. It is hard to dispute what was true for so many years. THat was my reality. This having friends and connections and having people who listen and care and love me is new. I donít know what to do with it, I donít entirely trust it or believe it, and part of me feels like it is all going to go away anyways. I a thinking about my dream. My mother was happy when I threw away my journals from childhood. I told her about it knowing it would make her happy. I threw away something she could not love or embrace. I killed off part of myself. Maybe the dream is saying I canít do that again. I wish I had those journals. But I know what was in them. Nothing about the abuse just pages and pages of how depressed I was and how I wanted to die. Pages about how much I hated myself, how horrible I was etc. I am angry at myself for throwing those away, I wish I hadnít, I want to be able to read them and feel compassion for the part of me that was there, to really know rather then feel anger and hatred. The truth is my childhood sucked. My childhood was horrible. The truth is my childhood was pain and abandonment and being alone and unprotected, it was being bullied and raped and criticized it was being friendless and rejected. I cant pretend anymore, I canít act like it was something it wasnít. I think I feel the need to tell and tell and tell not because I need someone else to listen and validate me, but because I need to do it. I need to see it and feel it and understand it. I need to tell myself my story. I need to face my own truth.

wow...I'm so sorry...I can relate-I could have written this myself...sorry short on words...you're not alone...
chelirach- I felt so sad reading this, and I'm so sorry for all the years of pain you have endured. But I hope you recognize what a brave and strong soul you are. It takes a very strong person to go through what you have, and still be standing at the end of the day. I can relate to much of what you wrote, because I too grew up abused and broken in a childhood that was devoid of love. I have spent so many years hating myself and feeling worthless and unloved. It took me so many years to start to realize that what happened wasn't my fault, just like what happened to you isn't your fault. Most of your blog I could have written about myself except for tha part about throwing away the journals. I still have mine, and they are as filled with pain and suffering as it sounds like yours were. But maybe its a blessing that yours are gone now; perhaps rereading them might have brought you only more pain.

I'm sorry your mother had the reaction she did about the diaries. The part you wrote about wanting to feel compassion for the child that went through those experiences really affected me profoundly. I too sometimes think back to my childhood and the abuse I went through, and in my flashbacks even though it's me being abused, I want to hold and comfort the child I was, and try to take away some of her pain. So I identify with you alot about what you wrote.

We're all here for you anytime you want to talk. Please remember to take good care of yourself. You deserve that. And you are a survivor, and a good person that deserves to be loved. The world is a better place with you in it. Sending you positive thoughts and energy :hug:
May 03 2012 10:20 PM
Chel, I can empathize on so many levels.... I'm sorry you're going through this right now. I want to have had the "normal" childhood too, for that matter I want to retreat into the illusion of being a more "normal" adult than what is really genuine for me. I know too how comfortable illusions can be, whether that is the illusion of a normal childhood, or the illusion that you are really "bad" and "at fault" or... really whatever is familiar and easy to digest and comprehend. Take care. I have faith in your abiilty to make your way through this.
i too empathize. and i so understand this:

It is hard to dispute what was true for so many years. THat was my reality.

i understand wishing you had the journals...but from my view you have enough truth and reality of what it was like, here, to be able to feel that compassion. i know how important it is to be able to do that. and i know i feel so much compassion for the child that was you growing up, and adult you. i'm sorry your life has been so painful.

i feel like i have a lot more to say but can't find the words right now (theme of the week for me).

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