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I miss this very much

Posted by EVH , in T-Sessions, Uncategorized 28 May 2013 · 66 views

A few years ago I got a call in the middle of the night, a girl I knew very well called crying: "My sister just died". We spent 2hrs talking and then I jumped into my car and drove 800km in the middle of the worst winter night that year with a broken hand, to be there for her. Spent a week at her place, offering her a blanket, making tea, making her feel comfortable and safe and not letting her feel alone. It was so obvious for me, so natural, she needed me, I was there. Simple. And I was dealing with my own painful stuff too as it was 2005. Just a few days after I was raped by my best friend.

When a policeman from the station where I volunteered called devastated saying throug tears his teenage daugter was raped and if I could help because she hadn't left her room for days, I dropped everything and went to help. We spent the whole day talking, and again, blankets, teas, looking for a name for her teddy. I was there when she fell asleep, I was there when she woke up crying. I came 1hr too late for my finals and left 1hr earlier to go with her to a doctor and a therapist.

There are many other similar stories that happened in my life. I have many stories to tell. Don't know why I was thinking about these two today. But I was thinking about how many blankets and teas I offered to others. And that I never offered any blanket or tea to myself. All I had to offer to my hurt self was the "be strong" "don't cry" motivational stuff. Going for a run. Being angry at myself. At them. At life. Yes, I never told anyone. I never really ahd anyone to talk to. That's the way it is. Not everyone has someone to talk to. Not everyone is so lucky. Sometimes even if I wanted to talk there was noone and I don't think that people who are surrounded by loving, supportive people, friends, whatever, are able to understand this. It's hard to understand when you cannot relate to it. Sometimes you are alone. Not because you want it. Sometimes it's not up to us how our life is designed. There are things we cannot change no matter how hard we try. Period. I wanted to talk. Wanted to get some help. But...I felt so, I don't know, ashamed, so worthless, dirty, hurt. There was noone who could encourage me to get help. I listened only to myself. Running in circles. It became my pattern. And it;s hard to break your patterns. It takes time. It takes trust. It takes courage. It takes strength.

When he offered to come and take care of me I agreed. I agreed to break my pattern. I was so glad that I didn't have to be alone anymore. I was so glad that he'd be there, help me get off the floor. Heart attack is a bitch. He brought me to bed, gave me water, drugs (...yeah now I know better), he comforted me, I felt safe. I was so happy that for once in my life there was someone not leaving me alone. That for once in my life I was the one being taken care of.

Then I woke up in the morning, naked, raped, beaten up. And again, no blanket, no tea for me. Coffee. Shower. Loud music. Motivational stuff to keep me going on with my life. And this thought: You're stronger than that. I wasn't. I'm not.

But this time I remember braeking my pattern again. I remember telling someone. I remember there was someone. My secondary survivor. I told her/him what happened. And I remember someone asking If I was ok. Someone being angry at my rapist. There was no blanket, no tea but there were comforting words, words of support I needed so much even though I never said did. And it felt good. I don't know who my secondary survivor is/was and I don't know why she/he is gone, it was probably too much, my story, my stories, my life, my feelings, myself. Anyway what I want to say is thank you my secondary survivor. Thank you for being there fo me and helping me go through this. For people like me, having a support like yours is so very important. It hurts less knowing I'm not alone. I don't know if anyone knows about this blog and has ever read my stories but my secondary survivor if you're reading this, I'm sorry if what happened to my was too much for you, too much for us to continue going through this together, too much to continue this journey togehter. I miss this very much and I hope one day we can talk again. I hope one day I will remember who you are, know your name and feel this feeling of safety, warmth and compassion you offered me the other day. You talked to me while I was sitting in the closet scared to death. Thank you. I'm going on a new tough journey soon. But I'm going to think of you, whoever and wherever you are, and of your support and I'm going to keep you in my heart forever, no matter what happens with me. I hope you're doing ok and taking good care of yourself. If there is anything I can do for you, I'm here.

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