Whatever

Whatever.

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(Sometimes I just write to get things out, this is one of those times.)

I want to hurt because it’s there. I want to scratch it out and make it go away. I want to make me go away. I want to turn it all off. I can’t cry it out enough, shout it, say it, or do anything to get it all out and gone.

It’s anger and aloneness, all at the same time. I want to curl up so it will go away and leave me alone. Then I don’t have to feel it any more.

I want him to take it away, say he was sorry, and know what it feels like. I want him to feel it so he really does feel sorry, not just words, but for him to understand. I want him to go back and fix it.

I want to be normal, go back, and make me be normal then. Why couldn’t I have proper things like food or clothes or just to feel safe? I do not know whose fault it is. It’s a mess.

I can’t think. It makes me want to put my head through a wall. There doesn’t seem to be a point. I can’t undo any of this. I just hide. It’s all a secret. People think I am one thing and really, I am something else inside.

My brother said when he moved out of my father’s house that it would be the end between them, but instead, he gets a normal relationship. His father coming to his house to help with DIY projects. My brother pops to our dad’s for things, he has a key, and he just walks in like a normal son. He gets everything and I have nothing.

I keep my dad away and I feel bad for it, but if I don’t, then it doesn’t change. He touches me, he hurts me, he leers at me and reminds me it’s all my fault because I was a ‘nice’ child. It was me. I turned him on. I flirted. I was the one with the smile and the face that promised more.

That is how I get everything.

That is all anyone ever wants.

It was me who climbed into his bed and I never said stop, not when he started to remove my clothes. I could have. I wasn’t afraid. I could have got out of the bed but I didn’t because I wanted that and he knew it. He knew it all the time. When I would come home from school and get changed; the way I got changed and that he could see me, made him want me. When I took a shower or a bath and walked passed him in just a towel.

It was all me, not him. Not him, because he didn’t make me. I got him to do those things. Not him. Me. It was me.

That’s why I don’t get things, because I’m the bad one and my brother is innocent. I am hard faced and I don’t feel anything and I don’t care. I am bad.

 

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Forgiveness, The Afterthoughts.

Yesterday I wrote about forgiveness and how to do it, almost after I had posted it and replies came in, it occurred to me that perhaps it isn’t my father or even my mother that I have to forgive. Perhaps it is the little boy himself that needs the forgiveness. 

I’ve hated him for a very long time, to the point if anyone asked me I would say, I would happily push him down the stairs and hope it hurt for the things he did.  But I have to ask myself, if he were a real child stood in front of me, if he was anyone but me, would I do that to him and no of course I wouldn’t  I would never hurt a child.

In a way it is like I am on the side of my mother and father, I help them to abuse him even more because I blame him. I get asked many times if I think I could confront him about the things he has done and I can’t, not that I am afraid of him, but if I confront him, then he will know that he abused me and I don’t want to hurt him. How strange is that? But it’s what I feel and I think, points to I actually have to accept that what my parents did was abuse, because I don’t, and I only call it that for the sake of here. When I was in therapy I could never say it out loud, it felt like I was lying, not about the events, but about the label.

I found myself nodding a lot to the replies I received yesterday; one of them was from someone named Lil, her words were so very true. Especially about my recent issues. I have a very hard time right now sticking to the decision of having my father out of my life. He doesn’t make it easy because he keeps emailing me and messaging me, of course none of them are nasty, in fact most of them are so nice its heartbreaking, because he is teasing me with exactly what Lil mentioned the answer to my craving for a parent.  He’s showing me what I have longed for my entire life, but part of me knows that if I go back, he’ll snatch it right back again.

And here I am, full circle in my thoughts, I don’t accept that what they did was abuse, I don’t accept it because it’s my parents., I can’t let go of the belief and hope for the parental love back. I blame the little boy for what he did and making me who I am today, because if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have been abused and would have the relationship I so clearly want.

I need to forgive that child. I need to forgive myself.

Forgiveness

Forgiveness.

It’s a strange word and while I do know what it means in theory, knowing what it means in feeling it is a completely different thing. I am not even sure if it is something that is possible. How exactly do you forgive someone?

I am not a religious person; I don’t believe in God, I know a lot of people will answer with regards to their faith of God and forgiveness. I think if I did believe in God I wouldn’t know how to forgive him either.

I guess forgiveness comes in many shapes and sizes; it makes hypocrites out of us. Me especially. I haven’t been very good with keeping up with people this last month or so. Not that I have ignored anyone, or not replied, I just haven’t had it in me to talk. Messages have gone unanswered, my phone has been left, emails not responded to. Yet I in some way expect and hope that these friends will understand when I say I am sorry. Many of them have thought they have upset me and that isn’t the case. It’s just a bad time and I hope they forgive me for my lack of communications.

But forgiveness is probably part of why I have been quiet. I wonder if discovering forgiveness would be the key to removing or at least healing the pain inside. It was my birthday just a couple of weeks ago. It’s never a good time; it makes me anxious and afraid. I’d happily ignore it if I could. This year was worse, added to that is my decision to not have my father in my life. It’s made me very ill these past few weeks.

My hands are very sore through the overwhelming feeling of not being able to get clean, though I know some part of this is my minds way of coping with everything else. I do suffer from OCD and when it is at a point that my hands are bleeding, I know I have something bothering me. The fact that even my wrists are cut and bloody tells me I have a problem. I have had days of not eating and over eating. Nights of no sleep or nights plagued with bad dreams, but the biggest one is, in ten days I have only had two days where I have not self harmed. Some of myself harm days have been multiple occasions.

I look at all of this and why I do these things. I feel sane on the outside, but my actions feel far from it. None of my insanities can ease the pain I feel inside. I wish if I could give my father anything, it wouldn’t be confrontation, but it would be a day of feeling what I feel.

Forgiveness might be the key, but how do you do it? I’m not sure it’s possible. I wonder if forgiveness is real at all, or is it just something we convince ourselves of?

For You

For you

Do not ask if I am okay

I will tell you a lie

Do not look at me too deeply

Let me have these things to hide

Do not ask if I am hurt

I will not show you my scars

Do not ask if I did bleed

Self carved punishment are not your cares.

Do not look into my eyes

They hold nothing for you to see

 

 

A smile rests upon my face

It’s for you, a façade

So that you may live

With eyes untainted.

Do not dig with questioning concern

I give you this gif

tFreedom From the wounds I carry

I do this

For you.

 

Sometimes I cant Find The Words

Sometimes I cant Find The Words

 

Sometimes I cannot find the words

To tell you what you’ve done

The pain and anger that’s inside

Created by you, mum

Why was I not enough?

So that you’d leave me whole

The one that you gave a life

Then stole it from my soul

It wasn’t me that did it to you

It was my dad that made you cry

The one that beat and forced you

Did you love me? Did you try?

I came from evil deeds that’s true

And was born into your home

I paid for the price for what he did

So many nights I cried alone

You’re the one that chose to sacrifice

But never put me first

Every day you broke my wings

And crushed them until it hurt

You cast a shadow on my life

And took away my dreams

You stole my childhood from me

And broke me at the seems

Was there even just one day

That my smile was enough

To make your life a little better

And maybe not so rough

I loved you every day you know

With all of my heart

Through all the pain you gave me

And every time I cried

I lost the innocence you changed

It died so long ago

You didn’t love me because you had to

Not ever, not even just because

I wonder what it feels like

For my mum to be my friend

To keep me safe and warm and loved

For that love to never end

Its taken time to realise

I’m not sure how to say

All the years you hated me

They made me this way.

I don’t know how to change

To fix what I become

I’m so damaged deep inside

Maybe you’re proud of what you’ve done

I don’t really have the fight right now

Or the strength that no one sees

To long I have spent crying

For all you did to me

Thank you for the gift you give

For everything I do

Maybe when we meet again I’ll find it in my heart

Maybe I will forgive you.

I asked you to stop.

I asked you to stop.

 

How could you

How could you

I asked you to stop

But like always you didn’t

Just a moment you said

I pushed with my hand

Because you hurt me so much

One minute is all you said

Because you didn’t care

I hate you so much

I cried and I pleaded but you didn’t cease

I’m so f****** angry

That I can’t get it out

It’s your fault that I’m like this

You did this to me

I hate you

I hate you

My brother was watching

You tarnished him too

He held my hand when I cried that night

Not you or my mother

No, you laughed and you joked

And none of you cared

I hope that you’re happy

I can’t even love you