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About turnip

  • Birthday 11/14/1989

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    art, writing, computers, sexuality, nonviolence, activism, unschooling
  1. Self care day

    Today I just need to rest. It is a blessing to be able to and it is what my body is screaming for. This pain used to be the norm but now it isn't and days like today I get to lay low, follow whatever can bring me pleasure or joy and take it easy. The hardest part is feeling ok about doing things that also hurt me in some ways. For instance, playing videogames is something I really enjoy (Civ) and it helps me rest, but it also gets my wrists hurting. I get tendonitis and it doesn't hurt really bad but I know it isn't good for my wrists. And eating chocolate. Part of me thinks I should just let loose and another part of me says, eat less sugar and don't get cavities! It's just learning the balance. Learning where the line is drawn. It's good to check in with myself about things I worry about to consider the pros and cons. And then when I decide that playing videogames is worth hurting my wrists a little, to shamelessly play the games and enjoy myself. Also, just for the record, today I have been doubting that I was abused.
  2. Wow...yeah, that's really true.
  3. Welcome, randomcase! Pandy's can be a really great place to find support. It sounds like your situation right now is painful and confusing. I am so sorry
  4. I am always inspired by your goals, Nevetuli! I also feel like my goals must seem tiny from the outside...but they're a big deal for me!
  5. Letter to My Mother

    13:12 - 081/365 I am so angry at you. I am so fucking angry at your. How can you have his photo in your drawer? (That's where it they put his photos when I visit; I appreciate that they do it - it's one of the few things I've asked for and they have been good about it. I found it by accident.) How can you know his children and send them birthdy presents? I know he very likely has never hurt anyone else like he hurt me. So I don't think he needs to be totally condemned or anything. Goddamit, this isn't about him. And this certainly isn't about me prooving that I am a forgiving and empathetic person to you or myself. This is about how angry I am at you. For still letting him be in your life. I should be the clear priority here. And I know you'll never love him like you love me. I'm your daughter. It's more than that. He was trouble from day one and hurt you so bad. I guess. Whatever. Your relationship with him is different than you relationship with me and DS. So I should come first. And more than that, you should be on your knees begging forgiveness from me. I know that sounds mean or arrogant etc. I know. But dammit already. He sexually abused me; in that, I was traumatized by what he did and the effects have been ongoing. It doesn't matter what he did. It matters that you knew and you saw me develop into a very sad person and you did nothing with your knowledge. Because *you* couldn't handle it. You have extremely pertinent information regarding my life and development and you see me falling apart and you do nothing with that info. I understand if I had become a happy, normal teenager that you might not tell me until I was an adult. You were so good about those boundaries in other areas. You told me and DS that you had had abortions when I was 13 and she was 16. That seemed appropriate. It rattled me for a day or two but it came at a time when I was just old enough. The shame and negativity in which you deliver this sort of information could use some work, but I get that. Pasts are hard. I can understand your negativity and sadness and weakness very well - too well, perhaps. But I don't understand your inaction. I don't understand why you let it swallow you up. But I am an explored. A revolutionary. A beginner. I am taking us into the new reality. And I'm a Scorpio so I am drawn in by cathartic experiences and painful healing; I don't shy from it. And I guess that's why I am here. If I lt my mind go for a few moments and believe deeply in all the astrology I have taught myself, I know I am here to make these changes. To wrench myself out of what has been and walk into the new, the waiting, the ready. So here: I am not not-talking to you because I want revenge. It has never been because I want you to kiss my feet or be humiliated. What I want from you I want because I deserve it, but I also know that your inability to give it to me does not mean I don't actually deserve it. And It also doesn't I need it to move on, to get better, to get healthy. I thank you for my DS. She is such a blessing to me. I am wrenching myself out of isolation/solitude to feel her love. It's slow-cook. She's not the frying pan I am working with each and every day, but she's the stew on to boil that gets better the longer I let it sit with only occasional attention. Heehee. We are just getting closer. And she's my sister so I have this feeling that the possible depth of our relationship is endless, infinity. There's a trust there that is stronger than anything else. And a trust that has never let me down. So why does it hurt so much to separate myself from you? To feel confident and secure in my choice to be so out of contact with you? A bit probably because you are my parents, goddammit, and I really would like the support of those people who you are always supposed to fall back on. But mostly it hurts because I am seeing the situation from the way you portray it. You think you can support me with anything. You think the situation could be just fine. You think mothers and daughters are supposed to be close, and can be, even after SA. I don't know. You have this image of the situation - or I percieve that you do - that casts me in an awkward light for not wanting to talk to you anymore. But that's me again, isn't it? Maybe you are acting in ways that make me feel this way, but that's my reaction. You aren't even telling me to feel this. You aren't that overt and I don't think you are mean at all. I think you are scared and silent and guarding some injured pride. You aren't trying to hold me back. So I need to lead; toward a future where I am who I want to be and am free of the darkness that crushes me. I need to lead to save myself (the only life I can save), but I hope and know that you will be changed by my path, too. No more attachment to this. I am living boldly; why do I attach so many strings? I am doing the correct thing. I am not wasting time. I am exactly who and where I need to be.
  6. Thanks for responding. The power of getting justice is so often taken from csa survivors. Your comment has brought stuff up for me - in a good way; I feel like writing more.
  7. Who to blame?

    18:49 - 078/365 My boyfriend says I need to forgive my little self. We had this conversation months ago about how that's something deep down that causes so many problems. I don't remember now what I felt strongly when we had that convo. But he helps remind me. How I don't forgive my little self for being socially awkward...or anything. How I'm mad at her for being stupid or whatever. I said, "I don't know if that was true. I don't remember my childhood." Which of course is just coping, coping, coping because why would I Look at my childhood if all I can do is hate her for being weak vulnerable. Little things. And stuff from my early teens, too. Stuff that I did that the reaction then gripped me with self loathing or embarassment or something. But now I look back on it and just HATE her for being so "stupid". Like, really little things. It's embarassing to say how little! When I was 13, I was at a natural food store where I knew everyone. I went to the bathroom and my hair was in a ponytail. I used water to try to control the flyaways and because I liked to make it look sleak. Then when I went back into the store someone looked at my hair and was like, "Oh, is it raining outside?!" and they really just meant that. They weren't making fun of me. But it felt so awful. How can that be?!!!! How can something that small have hurt me so much? And how can I look back without clarity? I look back and my vision is clouded with embarassment and shame and whatever. STILL! I'm an adult and this is still how I react, still how I feel. So my boyfriend says I need to forgive her. I get so mad at him when he says that because it feels so impossible. I am learning - and it is very very hard - to not actually show him the anger. To just tell him that it makes me feel angry and let him hold me because it really hurts; that's where the anger comes from. I read in the Courage to Heal years ago that a survivor is often faced with this mental dilemma: it was either my fault, or the world is a bad/scary/dangerous place. I feel like I still struggle with that all the time. Because it wasn't my fault...but whose was it? My parents didn't do anything they shouldn't have - they adopted a "messed up" kid and they kept an eye on him. I have issues maybe with what they did after they found the abuse but...but... Let's just make excuses for them, yeah? That's what the stupid Steubenville rape stuff is saying. The coverage is pitying the abuser, the rapist. So maybe that's why this is coming up. Or maybe that is why I have been paying attention to the news about it when I usually avoid stories like that. Whose fault was it? Why does blaming my abuser feel so...unsatisfying? And why does blaming my parents feel so inadequate?
  8. Joy!

    It is so hard to live without, and it makes life so. much. easier, even if it is only five minutes squished between panic and mosquito bites before it is gone again.
  9. This is beautifully written, EVH. I can really relate to "Crazy thoughts have quick wings, gaining momentum fast." Lately I have found busying my mind with mental images of a safe fantasy world (I use the cartoon Redwall) helps me get away from unwanted thoughts. Hope you find some peace and calm.
  10. I hear you, Susanna. I know what it is like to be trying to "logic it out", to try to decode memories and interactions and words to figure out who is to blame and what we should all be feeling. *hugs* if ok. My reaction to this post is anger for you, too. Family reacts defensively when they feel defensive. The way your mother reacts makes me think she feels guilty. It seems she wouldn't lash out at you if she weren't worried about protecting herself. What I've learned about my own mother is that it just isn't about me. Her anger, denial, minimization, etc is all her feeling things and reacting to them. And while she needs to do that to figure out what she thinks and feels, she shouldn't be figuring that stuff out with me. She continues to try and ends up saying things that hurt me and make me doubt myself, but she is not an accurate mirror for me to look for a reflection in, if that makes sense. I am so sorry it seems your mother is too preoccupied protecting herself to show you the compassion, support and respect that you deserve.
  11. I'm trying to write 500+ words a day for a week. I almost always have a list of things to do every day to help keep me stable. This week it is stretching, drawing, getting out of the house and writing. During a particularly logical day I had a few weeks ago, I was analyzing how my parents reacted to the CSA. I was three when they found out about it but I didn't remember any of it until I was 17. Still, I just had a hunch, a bad feeling, a sense of knowing so I asked my mom and she told me what happened. My adopted brother, 15, was playing hide-and-seek with me, 3. She hadn't seen us in a while. She found us in a bedroom (or closet? can't remember what she said). I don't want to talk about specifics. He wasn't actively doing anything. She said she wanted to get a knife and kill him when she saw what was happening, but she called her mom instead and her mom (a counsellor) told her that as long as I wasn't afraid of him, I was fine. My mom said she had a family friend who was a nurse give me a check up at our house so they could make sure I was "okay" and so I wasn't scared by the doctor. Just now, that strikes me as a weak statement. Scared of the doctor? Really? I assume the "check up" involved seeing if I had been r***d. They would have taken me to a doctor if I'd had a weird rash on my genitals or something; they would have helped me not be afraid of the doctor. It dawns on me now that maybe they were hiding it. I feel like that might sound obvious. But I don't know. My parents - and this is not an excuse for not telling me what happened earlier in my life - are not fucked up people. They don't have addictions, aren't out of control, don't have untreated mental health conditions, etc. I don't remember ever being really afraid growing up. My household was very stable and pretty healthy. Except for the abuse. And that sounds so stupid to say - "healthy except for the abuse". I mean, WTF? How can that be an afterthought? But what I mean is that I didn't feel scared growing up, my sister is unscarred, my parents are healthy people... So what happened? On that logical day a few weeks ago I realized: they lacked courage. They weren't brave. They took the weak route. They were tired, my mom especially. And my mom was the main parenting parent. And she was sick (literally ill) and she was tired. She was freakin' exhausted. They'd just spent seven years in Venezuela working with desperately poor kids. For instance, there was abuse at times in the children's home they ran and they did what they could but making sure the kids weren't starving was top priority. The CSA happened within two years (probably more like a year) of them coming back to the States. My mom had gotten really sick there, too. She was sick when she was pregnant with me. So you can see how they would be tired and just...just...used up, I guess. I can see them taking the less courageous route. Not that this excuses them. Not that I'm ready for forgiveness. My mom has asked me what I would have wanted to happen. Let me tell you: when I started "acting out" and expressing torrents of emotion when I was 12 (just after I started having my period), you should have gotten me help. Not just therapy as a form of exasperation two years into the fight. But right away. You should have been watching me like a fucking hawk - like a good parent - for symptoms of the CSA affecting me. Because, yeah, we don't know all that happened and it is totally possible that what happened was small enough that it is possible I might not grow up to be affected by it. But the possibility was there. You knew what had happened. You knew. You fucking knew. I started feeling depression when I was 11 or 12. It was five years - of psychiatrists, therapy, medications, feeling like shit and also feeling weak/bad/screwed up for feeling like shit - before I started to suspect something. Five years! Most of my teenage life! You fucked it up! Not that I would have been just fine if I'd had therapy earlier but I am pretty certain I would have been healthier. I would hate myself less. I would have known what I was dealing with. Maybe I wouldn't have had to be on meds for ten years. *That* is what I would have wanted you to do. Be courageous. For *me*. Be courageous for *me*. For my sake, dammit.
  12. Anyone else triggered by bodily fluids in general? Some things just make me queasy in what I feel is a normal way, but if I am already on edge the images/thoughts can become obsessive and invasive. **TW** I feel embarrassed talking about it. :shy:/> Like, when there's something gross in the toilet or on the sidewalk the image of it can get locked into my mind and my thoughts will just obsess about it and I can't get away. What helps: firm self talk and distraction. Also, sometimes, remembering that "gross" is just a reaction; all the atoms on our planet have been recycled over and over and over again. We're all the same group of material. *sigh* I guess I have a lot of shame around this. I think I've always had it. I know when I was a kid I was afraid of toilets (I grew up in a house with a latrine). When presented with a regular toilet, I would flush and then run away fast. I also know when I was 3 or 4, around the time of the CSA, the toilet overflowed after I used it and my brother (not my abuser, he was probably 17 at the time) got mad at me about it. I've always been too afraid and ashamed to bring any of this up in t but I'm hoping to when I start again in May. Source: Triggered by Bodily Fluids
  13. This is beautiful and power, StephEas. It looks like oil pastel? Great work.
  14. Thank you for posting this. My partner is struggling with my sadness/panic/etc and to know that there are other people out there sticking beside the survivors they love is hopeful.
  15. I hear you. Anger is hard to hold onto. It isn't something that can be managed very easily and therefore it feels too "big" for me to feel. Anger makes me feel like I have power and, back then, I didn't. Dissociation helps us survive, but it's a hard coping skill to let go when the time comes. if ok.