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Speechless. [07 Jul 2014|02:12am]

Originally posted by drenshawtennant at Speechless.
Newspaper rang me to day for a comment on my brother's being accused of raping his two teenaged step-daughters.

What the bloody hell could I say to any of that? ANY of it?

Why do I seem to be so much more concerned with my being incapable of putting into words my feelings about this "journalist's" conduct than anything else about it? Than feeling for the girls, than what this news does to my perspective on my recently recalled history of frequently violent sexual abuse from my brother, mother, and father?

Does there really have to be more suffering for me to consolidate more slivers of the possible truth of my life?
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Worry [11 Jun 2013|11:28am]

I tried to post last night but the buttons at the bottom wouldn't change from gray to blue... couldn't do it. Having a rough spot. Scary when I'm headed in the right direction. Of course, after my history, there's always a voice in the back of my head telling me that won't last, I'll get dragged down again... But I have proved it wrong in some things before, and I'm determined to prove it wrong in the rest.

I know no one's been posting to this community lately, but I really hope everyone hasn't drifted away. I could use some kind of support right now. I'm freaking out, maybe over nothing, but my world may be falling apart (again). Sometimes I get scared that I handle things all wrong, fly off the handle unable to control myself, and that these bad habits from my past sabotage me. Just when I feel like I'm on the right track, starting to get a handle on my life... I'm afraid my over-stressed landlord may refuse to renew my lease for calling the cops on my roommate, and generally jumping to conclusions, overreacting... I'm afraid my horrible roommate might now be even more out to get me (seriously, she goes out of her way, and has stolen, been totally disrespectful - especially when I was trying to be nice to her), and maybe even get violent.

I might've been exposed to second-hand drug smoke of some kind today. With my history of being multi-drugged since childhood, exposed to cigarette smoke, getting drunk while on these drugs, etc, this is pretty serious at this point. I've suspected my roommate of using for months, and so has the landlord. Today, because the landlord was really shirking responsibility, refusing to do anything about the fact that my (syphilis-infected) roommate left what seemed to be blood on the floor, I confronted the roommate. Knocked on her door, and she opened it, acted like a complete idiot, had no answers about the smoke, the smell--anything.

Then I started having symptoms. I freaked and called the cops, thinking that was the only way. They took two hours to come, and then he said he didn't smell ANYTHING. I told him the long, weird story, and my reaction, and he said he didn't rule out drugs, but that he couldn't smell anything, and she didn't seem high to him. He didn't search her room, saying that since he thought she wasn't using, searching might make things worse for me. I don't know what to think now.

Were my reactions just imagined? Some sort of reverse placebo effect? I have been known to have that happen, more than once. I'm praying that's all there is to it. Some symptoms actually disappeared as soon as the cop told me it wasn't drugs. But the more subjective, neurological ones have persisted. I realize these are more likely to be imagined anyway. I think it'll be clearer when I wake up tomorrow. I just really want some closure, reassurance that my landlord is still on my side, that I'll still have a place to live when my lease is up here. I can't afford anything else, I'm an unemployed student. I have only one person I can talk to, a counselor at school, and I couldn't reach her.

Just when I think I'm really starting to get better. I'm trying not to give up hope, to believe that I really am, that things will be fine, that I am imagining the symptoms... It's just this damn WORRY... It's been plaguing me all my life, and drugs have NOT helped me learn to manage it. My counselor says I might have PTSD.

Please, any advice, encouragement, prayers, would be greatly appreciated.
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My parents' ways of dealing with my illness. [15 Apr 2013|10:27pm]

A friend's illness should NOT be triggering me. It really, really shouldn't. Nor should I be bursting into tears because said friend's family is pitching in and helping him out because he's ill right now.

It's just that mine stopped doing that after a while.

There've been times when I've been badly sick (I was a pretty sickly teen) and bedridden, and my parents wouldn't even bring me any food. They were like, "Oh haha, I'm not gonna wait on you. You can get it yourself." The thing is, I couldn't get it myself. I was fucking ILL and BEDRIDDEN. They did this the week I had strep throat when I was 15 and I was practically in burning throat stomach and head hell. But y'know, pull up your bootstraps and get it yourself, sickie!

About that time I had strep: I couldn't talk. Talking felt like a swarm of bees stinging the inside of my throat. On the way to the doctor my father kept asking me shit and I couldn't answer because MY THROAT WAS OUT OF COMMISSION. I couldn't answer him, and didn't, and he and my mother got mad. They yelled at me about how I'm just bratty and inconsiderate and never think of anyone else and am just a stupid jaded teenager who refuses to talk. NO, IDIOTS, I HAD FUCKING STREP THROAT. It was satisfying hearing my soulbond, Stella, kick the back of his car seat really fucking hard. My soulbonds are awesome. They were champions that whole week, carrying me downstairs to get food and holding cups of water and juice at my lips when I found it too hard to put my head up. Doing everything parents are supposed to do. They're champs.

So let's talk about when I sprained my ankle really badly and couldn't walk for a day. I walked with a very weak limp...even limping was a pain and a soulbond had to carry me to ensure I didn't just drop. My mom was laughing at my limping and imitating it. Oh, and she did nothing about caring for it either.

When I was 17 I had a bad bout of heat exhaustion that almost extended into heatstroke--this was from staying out in hot weather for too long. I was probably the sickest I had ever been that day. I couldn't talk, move, or lift my head. My soulbond, Lightning, had to hand-feed me bottles of water and I had to sleep covered in ice packs. My father came into my room and started asking me questions. I couldn't talk. He started getting very angry that I couldn't talk,and despite having the worst migraine in the history of my life, began to YELL. He started screaming about why can't I just answer him and how I should just be in the crazyhouse. He didn't stop to think I can't answer him 'cause I legitimately CAN'T. So he just walked away and started ranting and raving about how inconsiderate and crazy I was for not talking to him.

This is why I started crying when my friend told me about how his family helped him out today while he's recovering from surgery. 
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Today... [09 Dec 2012|08:22pm]

Today, I got literally trapped for more than five minutes in my fiance's house while his mom and grandma tried to scream at me and tell me how to live my life and behave (yeah, I said HIS family, not mine).  I screamed, "Let me out" multiple times to my fiance who blocked the door while they said, "No, don't let her leave, I want to talk to her" multiple times, then followed by "You need to calm down" to me when they wouldn't let me leave the house. I think as an abuse survivor himself, he's somehow become okay with that environment, but I told him very seriously if it happened again, I couldn't stay in the relationship.  I've said it before when upset, but I meant that one, he was part of the trapping.  I told them, as they trapped me in their house, blocking the door and pushing it closed as I tried to yank it open and leave...that they could not keep me there and I would call the police, to which his mom, or my future mother-in-law, tried to come back with, I'll call your mom, but I said CALL HER, She'd want me to be able to leave, and gave her the number.  Then, when I got out, they were like mad I'd escaped from their scary controlling behavior and his mom threw out some pop bottle I'd been drinking from down on the concrete porch (like, it bounced). They also said to him after that, "At this rate, [I would] separate him from his family." To which I had to say to him, that was weird, I would not be the one separating you but they might with their weird behavior, and you cannot block me in there ever again. I also made it very clear I'm never going back in that house since clearly I can't feel safe or allowed to leave there. (I hadn't been drinking or anything, for the record either....they just blocked me in their house to try and tell me what they believed my behavior should be and to tell me how much I should communicate with them about the wedding also).

I have a question though, 'cause I've had some feedback from MY home.......but has anyone witnessed this type of crazy controlling behavior change?  My guess is while he lives at their house it won't change at all, but is there a possibility for after that? Thoughts, please.  I've been in a controlling relationship situation, and have endured some emotional and physical abuse, as well as harrassment, particularly one that was really bad before but I've never had it be a combination of parents and the guy, which is why I will try to never be back in that house. Not many people I'm around have experienced this situation either.......any feedback or advice on the best way to proceed now? 

I mean, as I said I tried to talk things out with the fiance and then he chose to say I wasn't showing up early enough to his house on the weekends when I'm showing up after working full-time during the week, and when he worked full-time he groaned about showing up at 10:30 or 11:00 pm after work on one day once every two weeks...and I'm showing up before that.  His response was that he worked 90 hours and I'm only working 5 days a week (he's not currently working any hours, nor has he been for the past month, and I'm currently on antibiotics after getting really sick last week (I had to take 2 days off of work), but I drove out to see him part of yesterday around 8:30 pm to around noon today before his family started this lack of boundaries and trapping me in their house craziness. 

Therefore, I have a question--since I had to ask him to get out of my car and talk later after we'd talked for 30-40 minutes in my car following the trapping and he was trying to start an argument about how I couldn't compare 40 hours (it's actually 42.5) and 90 hours per week.

The question is: Am I getting myself into an abusive type of relationship again and I can't quite see it, and how do I stop it from becoming that?  Any, not too mean to me, but realistic, advice would be appreciated.  Thank you.
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[02 Dec 2012|10:15pm]

[ mood | awake ]

My birthday is rolling around again, and as usual, so is the darkness. Each year it seems to get harder. I turn 28 this time, and it seems like the years of my life are slipping through my fingers, wasted. Where am I getting? How do I start living? I feel like I'm not plugged in. I have no boyfriend, I haven't been on a date since I was a fucking teenager, no friends, nothing. No job, even. I'm in a city I've been planning to get out of for years but I'm still here. I'm worried about how I'm doing in college, and transferring is my only ticket out. But more than that...I feel like the lack of relationships, of expressing myself with someone who gives a damn, means I'm not living. How do I plug in?

I would never attempt suicide, or even seriously consider it, but sometimes I wonder why not. Not to talk myself out of it, but just, like, to take stock of where I am, what my reasons are for pressing forward. It's been over a year since the night I looked at that seriously after a horrific night, and honestly, it helped to look death in the face, to remember why I want to live. I've been somewhat cut off from myself, false. Putting on a brave face even to myself, I don't know how to say it. I need to...look into the darkness again. Somehow, in the past, that made me feel less desperate, more grounded.

I'm not sure this is what I wanted to say.

People tell me I must be so strong to have survived all I have. And I know that's true, that I have a very strong will to live, and to make it. Yet, sometimes I wonder how I can have such a strong survival instinct while at the same time engage in such self-destructive behaviors. It's like two opposing forces within me. I choose life in the big things, but then it's like I sabotage myself in the little things, and I get so scared sometimes that death will win over life after all. And then I hate the thought that my abusers will triumph after all, that I'll undercut myself, and they'll end up defeating me by my own hand, so to speak.

*sigh* This is a hard time for me. How do I remain faithful in my choice of life? How do I keep from undermining it with little choices, with little self-destructive things? How do I keep the little things from adding up to overwhelm and overturn my big choice of life?

I wish I could go to someone for support, that I had something else to comfort me so I wouldn't turn to things that hurt me. But I'm alone, and there's no end in sight, and it's so hard, and sometimes I just don't know how to cope without giving in a little. God, please don't let that stop me from getting where I want to get. Don't let that sabotage me in the end. I've been so strong, oh please, please, let me stay that way and keep going on until I get where I want to be.

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Progress and Slowly Killing off Hobgoblins [15 Oct 2012|05:40pm]

Posted this in my journal, and for some reason, thought I'd post it here as well. Kind of broken up, not exactly my most succinct prose, but oh well.

Just read a bit over previous entries. How it helped just to see my own writing! To see my own perspective, to see myself progress, especially from those entries to where I am now. Because I've come a long way: now, I'm going full-out for what I want and not selling myself short in anything. Before, I sensed I was aiming too low in desperation. Now, I'm aiming for the highest, and I know it's not out of my reach. I still struggle with the superstitious fear of jinxing as I consider whether to write out some of my goals here or not--even though the research says the opposite, that you're supposed to write them out and so forth... But actually, it's not even that. It's fear that the abusers will find out and somehow thwart me (like they've tried in the past). Or that someone out there will inexplicably hate me and hex me. I know I shouldn't fear things like that, but the abusers made me afraid of people hating me.

It helps somewhat to write these things out. I need more truth sessions. I remember how much better I felt after finally spilling some of those things I'd never told anyone, about a year ago. More of things like that when I'm ready, but I think the time for that is coming up soon. I can feel my system gearing up to eject the poison.
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[09 Oct 2012|10:24pm]

[ mood | hopeful ]

Trying to keep my chin up, and I know stressing about things will only make them harder. But I started having a sort of quasi-flashback when I saw the costs of the only available student housing (that I know of so far) for the college I want to transfer to, and starting thinking I'd never qualify for enough in student loans. I just don't see how I can take another TWO years in this place, which holds... nothing but a dusty feel of aversion and not belonging. It's been the scene of such a long nightmare. And I'm waking up now--I don't belong here! I should go where I do, it's natural, I should be able to do it. The thought of being able to leave next fall has been keeping me going, drawing me on to move me out of my past and into my future. Now I can see in writing this out that I was jumping to irrational conclusions without considering my options, based on fears and past experiences. The last two times I relocated, I was moving out of desperation, and ended up in horrendous situations (the last time wasn't quite as bad, but terrifying). I just don't know how one relocates to a different state on such a limited budget. But I've hardly asked two people at my school, and zero at the ones I'm considering transferring to. I need to explore my options.

Money is the biggest factor--in safety, which I'm most concerned about--in where I live...in making it happen. If I can get the money, I can do it. If not, I need to find a way to get the money, even if that means moving there beforehand, working a year to get my residency, and then starting up school again. But I'll have to have some savings AND a job before I make the leap to a big city. I have to do it right, take care of myself this time, but at the same time, I have to get out, have to finally make the move to the place I've been dreaming of all my life. Isn't it kind of...sad...that we live in a world where money is such a big factor and so many people feel hopeless because they don't have enough of it? But I know from experience that it's not over unless you give up. I've gotten back up and made it this far; I'm not about to give up now. Like I said, if I can't get enough in student loans--and I've been told I probably can--it will just mean that I have to wait/work/make the necessary changes until I can. And then I'll go.

I'm trying to stay positive, and not let stress make this worse, make me give up again. That's what happened in the past--I gave up, and it was only by... pushing through... that I made it this far. I need to keep pushing through and make it the rest of the way home--to the place I know I belong.

I guess I just needed to get this out. Thanks for reading this.

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[05 Oct 2012|07:36pm]

[ mood | hopeful ]

On Monday, I gave a speech in class on stopping child abuse. The first time I've spoken out against it since I was a teenager. The retaliation back then was so overwhelming that, as a teenager, a child, and under extreme stress that I'm not ready to talk about yet, it clammed me up. For years. I was shaking a little during the speech, I got breathless several times, and I couldn't take my eyes off the paper. But my voice was strong, unapologetic and I read it as it deserved to be ready.

Or at least, I thought. The instructor was sympathetic to my position, thank God, but he said while it was good, I needed to give it a "personal touch," and show some emotion. He said it sounded almost clinical. This really surprised me. According to the MBTI personality test, I'm an INFJ--F stand for Feeling, but I've often been mistaken as a T (for thinking) because I often seem so distant. Because of experience, which has locked me up, so that it's been really hard to express emotion. I've been making great strides in progress, mostly steady progress, for a while now (off and on, for the past 3 1/2 years; I've had detours, but I've always been naturally *drawn* to good health). Especially the last few months have been fruitful, and the breakthroughs are coming more and more, strong ones, the last week or two. It's easier to express emotion when I try these techniques I learned in school--it's amazing it's being covered in more than one class, and what I'm learning/doing in a third class seems right in line with what I need right now...I believe God's setting it up, that this time I'm going to breakthrough permanently and finally "make it"--the techniques that help the most are visualization and affirmations. Affirmations came much more easily, but really awkwardly at first. Visualization...It was so hard for so long to see myself happy, loved, healthy, etc. But then I realized I wasn't letting myself. I made myself do it, every day--and it got so much easier! And started to come readily, and every day, it's sinking in more and more. My idea of "where/how I want to be" can change a bit as I figure that out, but it's fun now. Energizing. And it really does affect my behavior/thinking in real life. It's becoming easier and easier to show emotion. To stop being afraid of "jinxing" things (which is just a self-fulfilling prophecy anyway).

I've still got a ways to go, but I'm going to start volunteering with kids, hopefully within a month, which I think will really help me break out of what feels like ice locking me all up inside. I think when I give the speech again on Monday, it'll be better, too. It's supposed to be a rallying cry to action, and the instructor said I should focus on conveying that clearly. Which is good, because that's always kind of been my personal focus area: action. In one of the stories I write, the Queen, after recovering from a horrible, draining barrage of--let's say, spells, for want of a better term--put on her from birth (because of her very strength, recognized and hated by the hoary old monsters around her), rallies and gathers her scattered spiritual kindred and leads them into battle against evil aliens who've oppressed them since time immemorial, so long that they've forgotten who they are. Well, the Queen and her army win, and establish a whole new dominion, a new empire of fair and benevolent rule. It's a complicated story, but basically it is about child abuse, and all the other outrages against human dignity, and all the methods employed by the evil to make people forget who they are and trudge along like obedient camels under a yoke so that they end up just sleepwalking through life without raising their heads to look around, much less protest, and end up accomplishing the designs of the monsters who basically turn them into zombies. The Queen woke up, and she woke a lot of other people up. I identify very strongly with this character. Actually, she's like another character I had when I was a little girl. The type keeps coming up. I think that's a good sign. This is the kind of woman I want to be--translated into 21st century America on Earth, of course.

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Recovery [26 Sep 2012|09:44pm]

I have had a HELL of a life. But it's mine, and I'm taking it back now. Tonight I realized (again, but I think more clearly than ever) how many pieces of me were buried or hidden through the neglect and abuse, and the resulting social isolation from any sort of relationships. Essential pieces, parts of me that make me ME. I've never been able to "see" myself being loved, or happy, or truly connected to anyone. Or being affectionate, or creative (making vulnerable in any way). Even though I'm naturally very affectionate and creative, and suppressing those, and other things has locked me up and shut me down to an amazing extent. What I present outwardly is worlds away from what's inside of me, and that's always led those around me (far away though they are, just people at school/work) to have a grossly distorted impression of me. I have such an agony of a time expressing my authentic self--because I'm so afraid of being rejected again. It took so long, and it's still so hard, just to face that fact--that I'm afraid of being hurt, that that pain is there, and that...possibility?...of being hurt.

I don't know why I'm posting this here. It's always been really hard for me to keep a journal. I think because my thoughts tend to be/feel really convoluted and hard to articulate--what I put down on paper/the computer often isn't what I meant to say. It seems easier talking to someone, and that's what I've always wanted. I've finally found a counselor recently who seems to understand me pretty well, though I need to manifest those parts of myself I've been hiding to her. I guess I want to stop hiding, and that's why I'm here. It's a start to stop hiding in real life.
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Triggerrrr... [18 Aug 2012|02:27pm]

[ mood | apathetic ]

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I'm new here... [30 Jul 2012|02:34am]

[ mood | drained ]

Sunday, July 29, 2012 at 11:38pm

"You're welcome for spending all night working on this fucking crap." 

Note the sarcastic tone. That's my abusive boyfriend, talking about my research. Think this is mild? Wait for my later posts. We've been in a relationship now for two and a half years, and although there are a few good times here and there, they are very few and far in between. If I had to sum up my life during these last two and a half years, I would use the following keywords: "jarring", "confusing", "scary", "humiliating", "lonely", and "totally fucked up". I'm sure you're thinking "just leave him". Yeah. Right. I'll get into that one later.

I've decided to write this all out in an online journal for three main reasons: 1) because I feel alone and this way it's like I'm talking to someone, 2) because in case things go really sour in a hurry, I will have this journal as proof in court and 3) I type much faster than I write, and I have a very convoluted and long-winded story to tell.

It's sad, to have to be in a position where an online journal may be your lifeline.

I guess there is a third reason why I am writing on LJ: because I feel like I am at the end of my rope and I'm afraid to look down. I'm afraid the stress will drive me to do something stupid (just to myself, I wouldn't take anyone down with me), and so I'm seeking a constructive way of getting my feelings out instead.

Here goes...

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Journey [13 Jun 2012|11:16pm]

So it's been quite a journey already, but the last week I've crossed some of the most treacherous country I've seen so far. I finally moved to California, but trying to find a living situation is a nightmare. I don't have a job yet, I don't know where I'm going to school in the fall, and now the latest place is not going to work either. The guy wants to move into my room. NO! I'm going to try to convince the other girl to move in instead, but if she won't, then I'm out of here.

The good news is I seem to have finally made some friends, which is doubly great because the common ground of horrific childhood is what drew us together. I really want to put together a book with a bunch of these stories--"dramatized," of course, so that the names would be changed, except for those people who give me permission to use their real names. It all comes out in my fictional stories, but I can't write my own true story; maybe writing the true stories of others is a step closer.

I still need to stop my own nightmare, though, and get out of this place. I want to get up somewhere in the vicinity of Arcadia or Pasadena, but I don't know where I'll end up next at this rate.

Not sure why I posted here tonight. I seem to come back here periodically, and what I usually seem to like most about it is being able to respond to other people's posts and help them--it gives me such hope when I hear I have. I still want to do that professionally somehow, someday, even though right now, I'll be happy to get a position on the Iowa, or a noise monitoring job :) Oh, well, one step at a time, right?

Please, God, THIS TIME.
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-Trigger- Child abuse into adulthood [30 Apr 2012|03:22pm]

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We don't have to be in silent decay any longer [26 Mar 2012|01:58pm]

I am a survivor of child sexual abuse. I am NOT a victim any longer.

And I invite you to speak out with me. We are launching an organization that will educate children, parents, teachers and adults on the signs and symptoms of child sexual abuse, what grooming looks like, that it's okay to tell, we WILL believe you, and offering services to survivors to help them further their educational pursuits.

We are set to launch on April 2nd. We are running concurrently a Twitter campaign whereby we want to encourage people to come out of the shadows-show their faces, say their names, and drive home the message that there is NOTHING to be ashamed of.

There are 59 million CSA survivors in the US alone, lord knows how many worldwide. Our goal is to make #SurviveAndThrive a top trending hashtag on Twitter and empower people to speak out and unburden themselves of the shame.

If you're interested in learning more about our organization please visit our website at www.tree-climbers.org

You can also email me directly at Roxine@treeclimbersinc.org

I hope you will consider participating. We are taking pictures of ourselves holding a picture of ourselves at the age the abuse started. For me it was 5 (see my picture in my profile). And it was my grandfather.

Thanks for reading - and I hope you will join us when we roll this out in April. April is Child Abuse Awareness Month and Sexual Assault Awareness Month. Let's also make it the month we take back our power - Child Sexual Abuse Awareness Month!

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Abusive behavior?? [02 Feb 2012|11:46pm]

I am just getting out of a long-term relationship; my ex and I lived together for years and owned a pet together. He dumped me right before Christmas and since then has been increasingly aggressive. Some of his behaviors are:

-Starting a conversation by yelling at me (i.e. no escalation, he just blindsides me)
-Calling me every word under the sun (b---h, c--t, etc...)
-Telling me that I am crazy and blaming me for "making" him flip out
-Playing on my insecurities (I have social anxiety and he will tell me that I have no friends and that everyone hates me)
-Threatening to take the pet and not let me have access to him
-Throwing/damaging my personal property (the most extreme example: he took my cell phone from me and smashed it against the wall)
-Standing so close to me while yelling at me that his spit lands on my face
-He has physically backed me into a corner twice
-One time, during our most recent argument, he grabbed my arm and jostled/shook me. It was not hard enough to leave any mark.
-He is very manipulative - as soon as a third person is around, he becomes very chilled out instantly

I am not an aggressive person and I tend to repress my anger. During these "fights" where he is manifesting the above behavior, I will avoid eye contact and not say anything except "I will not talk to you when you are this angry." I want to be very clear that I am not yelling back, calling him names, or antagonizing him in any other way that I can think of.

After our last fight where there was physical contact, I have changed the locks to the home we previously shared so that he does not have access to it (he has removed all of his belongings but refused to return the keys to me). I guess I'm just wondering how to define this type of behavior and how I should deal with it?? Any advice would be amazing.
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A Memorial for The Children of Childhood Sexual Abuse [30 Jan 2012|08:03am]

A Project I've been working on -

“No One Spoke Up for Us": For The Children Who Had No Voice and For those finally finding Theirs


As news organizations across the country pause to pay tribute to a man at his memorial service (who by his own admission wished he had done more to protect children), an online community is providing a forum for those who had no voice. A place to memorialize kids who never escaped the cycle of psychological torture and self-inflicted violence child sexual abuse causes; the kids and adult survivors who kill themselves, either directly or indirectly; the ones who suffer still today from the effects of child sexual abuse. When we die, we aren’t memorialized in photo layouts or tributes en mass. We are faceless. We are nameless. We are forgotten.

Please take a moment to read our stories.

Thank you
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[16 Jan 2012|02:06am]

Does it ever get better? Does it ever completely go away? I feel like it's been forever, feel like it should be gone by now. It should be a distant memory, but it isn't. It's still entirely too vivid. I'd blocked it out. It was mentioned, it all came rushing back. And everything is still there; for what a poor memory I have, I remember the details. i remember the smells, the darkness, the sound of his voice... I remember getting in the car with Katie the next day and it took everything in me not to tell her. I remember confronting him, and he begged me not to tell his girlfriend. I was furious, I agreed. I yelled at him; I told him what he did, how he fucked me up, how different I was and how everyone noticed. It doesn't fucking go away. Flashback. Drink. Repeat.
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Time To Release The Old Me [09 Jan 2012|01:13pm]
Well...I have officially decided to do it. I don't want to be quiet anymore, about any of it. I was abused...and it was not my fault. I have no shame of what happened...I was a kid. Just a kid.
Now, at the age of thirty, I feel as though I NEED to write about it. And so, today I have started my blog, on the matter. Hopefully, by writing about what happened, I can find some sort of release.
We shall see.
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The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo [01 Jan 2012|09:08pm]

[ mood | complacent ]

So I saw the movie and I knew it was a murder mystery but I had no idea it would be so graphic with the abuse scene. I had to look away for a lot of it but felt a huge sense of relief of his final punishment. Not happy, just a sigh of relief. Has anyone read the book? I obviously have not read it bc if I had I would have waited to rent the movie so I could fast forward through those scenes. Is the book just as graphic? I had pretty bad side effects from the movie, made me sick to my stomach. I am assuming that is PTSD stuff. I would like to first, say this movie was great but the abuse scenes are VERY graphic so if you are in a tender spot DONT see the movie, and second, if you have I would like to get your feedback, reactions, etc.Happy New Year peeps


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[25 Dec 2011|06:48am]

Has anyone else heard of traumatic bonding, possibly called betrayal bonding? How do I deal with this?
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