I don’t write here very often anymore. I used to write on here a lot. Sometimes it was daily, sometimes weekly. Now I don’t even think it is monthly. It isn’t that I have got bored of here, or found something better to do. It is that I get sick of the sound of my own voice. I get sick of saying my things … not because I don’t want to, but I imagine you … whoever you are reading this, looking at me and shaking your head. Looking at me and thinking, here he goes again.
I get like that when my head is a mess. When I am standing in my house and everyone around me is living and all I want to do is find a corner and cry until whatever is inside is gone. It’s like I can hide myself. I can hide from everyone and they don’t really notice me.
Someone says to me, how are you … I say I’m fine. I say I’m okay … I type it to them, as I wipe away the blood from the last meeting I had with my secret blade. I’m fine … Fine! Don’t you hear me?
What’s the point of saying I’m not? You can’t fix me. You can’t make everything in my head go away.
I can make you go away. I can. You won’t believe me, but see … I just have to be me and then it gets to a point where every second you’re around me, it’s hard. It’s difficult. Ultimately, it’s me who leaves, but that is because you’re at the point of falling apart. I do that.
I know writing here, I’m not really speaking, but you know … this is the place I come and I take my skin off and underneath all of that I am just bones and muscle and broken cogs all loosely held together. I am open, afraid, mad, angry … I am a bunch of many things rolled into one.
My flashbacks have come back. I don’t know why. Just the other night. They started up.
When I was a child, there was a man. I don’t know who he was. I don’t even know what he looks like. I can’t remember. In my head, he is just a dark figure … a monster … someone.
He used to keep score on the wall above my bed. He’d scratch each conquest against me into the wall. I was four. He won many times. I couldn’t sleep the other night. It was like he was there … he was waiting, ready … just needing that moment for me to drop off, then he’d strike. That was always his favourite time.
I lay in bed anticipating the feel of his hands on my arms, on my legs, his breath in my face, his teeth against my skin. He used to bite till I screamed. He used to scratch down my back till I bled. He liked to make me jump. The more terrified I was, the more he liked it. I remember that.
I remember him waiting for me at the side of my bed while I slept. I remember opening my eyes and he was there and I was trapt, and that was it.
He was in my room with me the other night. Every time I tried to close my eyes, he was there … he was there and he was waiting and watching and no one would come. No one ever came.
This is my head …
I did the only thing I could think to do. My other half was asleep. I cut. I cut into my skin, into my leg, into a part of me that needed to feel it … needed to bleed. I curled up with my shame then. The shame that I had given in. The shame that I was having a flashback.
The shame that I was me.
I clutched that blade, stared at it, tempted by it. I could make it all over. I realised that, but then there is that usual thing … that part of me that gets upset because I can’t. I mourn the chance to make it all stop because if I were gone, who could care for my children? Who would they go to?
I feel like I’m mad inside my head. I feel like I could cut more. Maybe I could stop being me. Maybe I could stop being so crazy. I can’t find the switch to turn it all off. I feel like ten people inside one and we’re all falling apart.
Some days, I hate myself.
If i could trade heads with you to spare you from all of it I would do it in a heart beat just so you could live a happy and normal life. Please stay with us. 🖤
Please don’t leave! We are friends. Friends lean on each other. You have listened to me, and I hope you know that I’m here for you. Friendship isn’t just about laughing together. It’s also helping each other when times are hard. You my friend are important to me and so many others. Keep fighting! Don’t be ashamed of what you need to do to help you cope. You are loved!!! ❤
I can only include you in my prayers to a higher power. Please know that I think of you often and pray you will remember all the people who love you and find the strength to stay. Look how far you’ve come. “So far you’ve survived 100% of your worst days.” ♥️🦋
Can I say I know exactly how you feel … no. But I know the feeling. I cried all the way home from work. Why I don’t know. Just all of a sudden hopelessness engulfed me. I hate when I’m in the car because it would be so easy to drive into a wall or a house of whatever. I can post jokes and seem to others that I’m fine but I just have to wait it out. It does go away.
I understand in your head you’re that little boy but if “the man” actually came (though he’s probably dead now) but if he did you’re big enough to fight him. You probably think you wouldn’t or couldn’t but anger is a powerful thing. Flashbacks are the worst. Hold on to your sweetie, I’m sure she’d kill for you. I know it’s easy to say, “This too shall pass” but it will so hold on to your anchors and things will look up. When you become overwhelmed try to harness more anger than emptiness and fear. Don’t hurt yourself. Hate what happened but don’t hate yourself, get angry. I wish I had a superpower to make it all go away. You know, pull up the picture of your grandchildren with Elmo … you can’t help but smile when you see those smiles. They are a great part of the reason you should be here. I am here … send out a wolf signal, a bat signal, a traffic signal …. and I’ll be there … if nothing else, to listen.
Still here. Whether it’s on this screen or in your head, I’m still here.
Through the blood, the silent screams, the inconceivably horrifying shadows, I’m still here. Have been for over seven years.
I say as I said in the beginning, there is nowhere, I’d rather be, no matter what you say or do. I guess that makes me either a fool, or someone who loves you very much, because I can see beneath all of that pain. I see a tortured, beautiful, (deserving of everything in life that’s good) soul. I see a good man. Also as I used to say, a gentleman, a gentle man.
Though you are so many wonderful things to so many (myself included) you are still human. And a failure.
In ALL of this turmoil, you fail to see one thing. You fail to see how much you give to all of us. How you help us. No matter if it’s just a giggle at your stupid jokes, or if it’s a shoulder to cry on/to listen to our heads, or even make such a difference, that you even save a life.
As so many others before me and after me, I say to you, I wish there was something more that I could do to help. That will never change.
Even though you think so, you are not alone. That will never change either.
And so, Yes, I’m still here. Still sitting atop this wall, looking down at you- with my hand extended to you, offering to help you up.
Because you are you.
Wraps my arms around you, hugs you extra tight. Because that’s what I do.
No matter what.
I love you.
I can understand and I am listening— You are needed … Hugging you now ♥️
Sent from my iPhone
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I like you! Please try to love yourself as much as the rest of us love you. I’m so sorry you had to live through this trauma over and over. Your story tears me apart mostly because I hate every horrible thing you ever had to go through. I’m sorry no one was there for you to save you. Please know that your stories have helped sooo many other, myself included. You are so strong and never think you aren’t. You think that you aren’t because these flashbacks feel like the trauma all over again but that’s why you are so strong, you did survive the real trauma never let the memories of it stop you from living ❤️
I’m another that will always have ears to listen, I hear you speaking. I’m not turning away or leaving, let the mask fall if it feels right. There’s no judgement, only an open mind and heart and validation. My seat is beside you, please stay. 💙
I am here and loving the man you are in spite of what happened to you. I will always be here. Call me if you need me. Chat me up. I’ll listen. You know that. You are a wonderful person who had the most horrific childhood I can imagine. Your head does get to be a mess for you and I wish I could take that all away from you. Just know as much as your family needs you, I want to be there for you. You are amazing, smart, creative and fully worthy of the love others want to lavish on you. Many virtual hugs, and hopefully one day, many real hugs because I love you.
The dark figure could be a priest. In your book you mentioned a brother Marcus. Your blocking this sick predator.. and it’s choking your yesterday, today and tomorrow. I HATE that this pedophile piece of crap is still making you hate yourself. If he is a priest, and he’s still alive. Remember, find him, turn him in and rescue all his other victims. Because if he’s still alive, he’s still hurting little boys. The flash backs might be happening for a reason. AND YOU my friend are no longer a little boy. But ,,,,,little ones might need you to STOP this twisted piece of nothing. Break the chains,,, He’s taken enough from you.. YOU ARE so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Thank you for sharing your younger self and your raw soul adult self. We love ALL of you and your talking Stitch.
We want to hear you. I do not shake my head. My heart aches for the confusion you feel and I wish I could take it away. I pray your flashbacks cease…JD…have you ever seriously prayed or tried to find God? I know you are thinking you are unworthy..and 50 million other wrong conclusions about yourself..WRONG!! God WILL love you and help you heal your wounds. All you need to do is genuinely ask. Please never leave us.
I see beyond your “I’m ok”, no matter how many times you stay it. And I’ll always ask how you are. It’s my way of saying, how are you, I worry about you, I care deeply about you. Big squishy hugs from me; just take them, and know that i live you deeply 💞
Can I say I know exactly how you feel … no. But I know the feeling. I cried all the way home from work. Why I don’t know. Just all of a sudden hopelessness engulfed me. I hate when I’m in the car because it would be so easy to drive into a wall or a house of whatever. I can post jokes and seem to others that I’m fine but I just have to wait it out. It does go away.
I understand in your head you’re that little boy but if “the man” actually came (though he’s probably dead now) but if he did you’re big enough to fight him. You probably think you wouldn’t or couldn’t but anger is a powerful thing. Flashbacks are the worst. Hold on to your sweetie, I’m sure she’d kill for you. I know it’s easy to say, “This too shall pass” but it will so hold on to your anchors and things will look up. When you become overwhelmed try to harness more anger than emptiness and fear. Don’t hurt yourself. Hate what happened but don’t hate yourself, get angry. I wish I had a superpower to make it all go away. You know, pull up the picture of your grandchildren with Elmo … you can’t help but smile when you see those smiles. They are a great part of the reason you should be here. I am here … send out a wolf signal, a bat signal, a traffic signal …. and I’ll be there … if nothing else, to listen.
A lot of us say I’m okay when really wer’e not. I think society conditions us that way. You are not burdening us by sharing your pain with us. I’d rather know honestly how you are doing than be lied to, when it’s obvious you’re having a not okay experience. You are a strong and compassionate person. Hugs and I hope you have peaceful dreams tonight.
still here for you. we all are. i know that doesn’t help, but it’s their. you are stronger than you see yourself. much love!!
I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like for you, surviving what you went through, and now struggling with the memories. Its proof that you are a strong person, even though you may not feel that you are. I try to put myself in your place, and I dont think i would function as well as you. Maybe the flashbacks are a way for you to help someone else. 😞
I wish you didn’t feel shame. You did nothing wrong. Not one part of a sweet innocent child deserves anything like what you endured. Sick sick people with twisted minds wronged you. They should feel shame. I wish you could find peace. Wishing never really gets anyone everywhere, but I don’t ever know how to find the right words. You are loved, you deserve peace and happiness. 🥀
Anywhere**