Today I'm taking it deep at Random Girl. This is for several reasons. First of all, if everything was always silly and full of shenanigans, I would be Predictable Girl, not Random Girl.. Secondly, if I am really going to embrace the 30 Days of Shamelessness concept, I need to be real about the few things on the list that could give me an opportunity to grow and move past some shit. Consider this your warning and feel free to bail out now if you don't want to come along for the ride.
I'm knocking out two of the heavy hitters with this post because they are kind of related, at least in my mind, and I don't want to have to write about this kind of stuff again any time soon. I kind of hate this, which means I probably really need to do it. So here goes....
Consider this me coming clean on the following days worth of shamelessness:
9. expose something messy or dirty you’d usually hide.
24. share a struggle you have yet to “just get over.”
I'm going to expose something that is messy that I would usually hide. It's also a struggle I have yet to "just get over". Yes, I am dramatic like that sometimes. Here's my story.
Sometimes one thing leads to another that leads to another and before you know it you are somewhere you didn't think you would be doing something you wouldn't think you would do and you aren't quite sure why. Ever been there?
There was a period of time for me, like between the ages of 5-7 years old, when something that shouldn't have happened to me, did. I didn't know it at the time but after growing older and learning more about such things, I can clearly say that it was wrong and it was not my fault. That's the advantage and the curse of having perspective.
At the time, it was all presented like a game, like something that should be fun, was innocent, and I should even enjoy. And because the person that did it was close to the family and not a whole lot older than me, it was all ignored by the adults that should have intervened. It was written off as insignificant. It was not. But not knowing the full extent of what was going on or the impact that it would have on me as I grew older and developed my self-image, I simply pushed it back from my mind and went on about my business.
My family moved and it became a non issue although I still would see this person from time to time. I just smiled politely and tried to avoid him. I didn't want to think about it and I certainly didn't want to talk about it. Once, when we were older, I think I was like 16 at the time, we ended up alone for a moment and he brought it up. I think he was attempting to apologize but I couldn't think about it or talk about it so I cut him off mid-sentence and I left. Ignore it and it will go away right??
But it didn't go away. It never had. It was always in the back of mind in two ways. 1) I was never really sure what to think about what had happened. I didn't think that he had hurt me but I also knew that something was very off with the situation because every time I thought about it, I wanted to get sick to my stomach which tells me that at the core, it was bad. 2) I lost respect for my body and didn't think it was worth honoring and protecting any longer because the damage had already been done.
The second part was something I didn't figure out until much later, after I had abused my body in a number of ways including hiding behind being a "fat kid" in elementary school, stashing diet pills and adopting the "scarf and barf" lifestyle in high school, and offering myself up to most any guy that showed me attention to try to prove I was "in control" of the situation. I clearly was not in control of anything in those situations.
I lost the perception of myself, my body, and my worth. I felt like it wasn't mine to have since it was already taken over once. How could it be important if someone else was allowed to do things to me and no one who could have stopped it did? What did that say about how important I was or how much value I had?
I know now how flawed that thinking was and how it wasn't my fault. I don't blame my parents or other adults that could have or should have known because I don' t think it was intentionally ignored. I know how strong denial can be and how you can talk yourself into believing that "nothing happened" if realizing that the opposite is too painful to admit and if taking action would destroy other people.
Why am I talking about this now? Why am I using space to drag you all into this not-so-happy place that was hidden for so long? Because I need to for myself. I don't have the luxury of denying and ignoring any longer because now I have a daughter. A daughter that is the same age as I was when this started happening to me. I have to be honest about what can happen and I won't risk letting the same things happen to my daughter that happened to me and pretend it can't or won't happen to her.
I can't change anything that happened to me but I can change how I deal with it and I can use that experience to be extra aware and vigilant in protecting her. That's my responsibility and that's the lesson I have learned.
I'm also using this for my response to the Studio 30 Plus weekly prompt: The End
If you aren't part of S30P yet, you need to be. Get over there and sign up!
Showing posts with label abuse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abuse. Show all posts
Taking it Deep - 30 Days of Shamelessness gets real
Author: blog xxx
Category:
abuse,
parenting,
relationships,
Shameless,
Studio30Plus
0
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Quicksand - Indie Ink Challenge
Author: blog xxx
It's Indie Ink challenge time again! It's starting to be my favorite part of my week!
This week my challenge came from Runaway Sentence.
My challenge went to Christina and will be posted here when complete. Make sure you check out both of these great writers!
My challenge prompt this week: Quicksand
This week my challenge came from Runaway Sentence.
My challenge went to Christina and will be posted here when complete. Make sure you check out both of these great writers!
My challenge prompt this week: Quicksand
Quicksand
Kissing him is like stepping in quicksand
I instantly start sinking
The harder I try to pull away, the further in I go
The only way to save myself
Is to stop struggling, he says
The smile on his face says much more
It is a satisfied grin
Like he knows a secret I am yet to learn
He is looking forward to me finding out
I am lost under the weight of his body
Our skin, once uncomfortably stuck to each other
Now sweat-slick from the heat, slides effortlessly
Shhhh….. he whispers in my ear
His breath hot on my neck
As he pulls my head back with a jerk, his fingers tangle hard in my hair
The only way to save myself
Is to stop struggling
But I am sinking deeper, giving in to him
I relax into him
Trying to stop the descent
I am trapped, and am being pushed down further
He is the only thing holding me up
He could let go at any moment
Stand back and just watch me sink
But he is not letting go
He is holding me tighter
Going in deeper, taking it further than before
We are sinking together
So this is what it’s like to be completely taken over
I’m sinking faster now, into what I don’t know
But he is coming with me
We are going together
A force stronger than gravity
Holds him to me, holds me down
Impossible now to escape
This song "Gravity" seems to fit the sentiment of quicksand pretty well... Plus it's a beautiful song.
This song "Gravity" seems to fit the sentiment of quicksand pretty well... Plus it's a beautiful song.
Category:
abuse,
Indie Ink,
poetry,
Sex
0
comments
The Worst Thing I've Ever Done - Indie Ink Weekly Challenge
Author: blog xxx
I think this thing is rigged! How else would I get this challenge? Really...
But regardless of my accusations of being set up, I was again given a great challenge prompt as part of the Indie Ink weekly challenge. I'm telling you, if you have not gotten in on the action yet, you really need to. Every week I am more and more amazed by the writing that comes out of it from the kids that participate.
This week, I was challenged by Amanda. Her challenge was this: What's the worst thing you've ever done?
My challenge went to A Lil Irish Lass and will be posted here when her response is ready.
Here's what you get for my challenge response this week. Enjoy!
Updated 6/14/11:
In an ironic twist, I am going to see Ray LaMontagne in concert tonight. Why is it ironic you ask? Because his song "You Are The Best Thing" was "our" song from the very beginning. I guess something good came from the experience, I got introduced to an amazing singer/songwriter and can now enjoy his music with a bit of sad reverence. This was the song that was supposed to be playing in the background as we danced around the kitchen and kissed while making dinner. It was a good plan.
But regardless of my accusations of being set up, I was again given a great challenge prompt as part of the Indie Ink weekly challenge. I'm telling you, if you have not gotten in on the action yet, you really need to. Every week I am more and more amazed by the writing that comes out of it from the kids that participate.
This week, I was challenged by Amanda. Her challenge was this: What's the worst thing you've ever done?
My challenge went to A Lil Irish Lass and will be posted here when her response is ready.
Here's what you get for my challenge response this week. Enjoy!
The Worst Thing
What's the worst thing I’ve ever done? It’s really hard to say. To narrow all the bad things down to just one “worst” thing? I don’t know that I am qualified to make that determination. I usually start off with good intentions if that counts for anything.
If I had to choose just one thing and own it though, it would probably be something I did to myself. I have always had a high tolerance for self-inflicted pain of the physical variety. Piercings, tattoos, and things of the like. If it was my choice to be hurt, I can own the pain that comes from the decision. I actually kind of enjoy the process to be honest with you.
It was a different story when the self-inflicted pain was of the emotional variety. I found out that was not quite as easily owned and certainly not as easily tolerated.
One year ago at this time, almost to the day, I fell in love. I’m talking the real true deal. My divorce had just become final, I was feeling free for the first time in too many years to count, and was perfectly content running my own agenda and not compromising for anyone. And that’s when I met him.
I am not someone that falls in gooey, sickening, “I can’t live without you” love. I am much too reasonable for that. I have always made decisions based on logic and followed a path of what made sense to do as next steps. I can say that the day I married my husband that I loved him but I wasn’t madly, passionately, crazy in love with him.
We made sense together and the next logical step was for us to get married and start our career climbs and have the perfect suburban life. So we did. And that worked for a while. And then that wasn’t enough anymore. We weren’t in the right kind of love with each other to weather the perfect storm that got thrown our way. We made the logical decision and got divorced. I still love him, but I’m not in love with him.
The last thing I expected was to find myself madly, crazy, “I can’t live without you” in love. Ever. That was just not something I would do. But I did. I mean I really did. Head first, jump in, no looking back, all or nothing love. The connection that we had from the very first look, first word… was like nothing ever in my life prior.
And I’m not talking about lust. That I know well and find often. This was completely different. This was something on a whole different level. The intensity swallowed me alive, left me gasping for air, unable to escape what he was to me. There was no room for logic or next practical steps. It was really a force unto itself. We were just too caught up in it, in each other, to worry about such trivial things like common sense.
He would write me a letter. One every week. Sometimes he mailed it; sometimes he delivered it in person. Those letters were like nothing I had ever read. No one had ever painted a clearer picture of the life I wanted before. It was truly like he was in my soul and knew everything my heart desired. I didn’t know how I would ever be enough for him. I certainly couldn’t return what he was giving to me. I didn’t know how. I’m not the type of girl to fall in love.
There was no choice with him. It was a matter that was beyond my control. I couldn’t have created a space between us if I was forced to. We spent entire weekends devouring each other, leaving only to get food and then returning immediately to pick up where we left off.
It wasn’t sex or fucking or love making, no, it was something entirely different. Sometimes it was as if we were purposely hurting each other because it was an intensity that was so great that there really was not an adequate way to express it to each other. It wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough. There was too much for it to be satisfied.
It was during our times apart, when I could catch my breath, regain vision of my surroundings when they weren’t blocked by seeing only him in my world that I could see what it really was. It was intense and amazing. It was also really unhealthy and borderline co-dependent. Somewhere between the love letters and the weekends of sex, he had taken over control of me. Literally.
If we weren’t physically together, I was to be online and available to him pretty much 24/7. I was never allowed to question anything, because I would always be wrong, or unreasonable, or not loving him right.
Slowly as time went by, I began to realize that I was losing myself completely. This wasn’t the normal give and take, compromising, that you expected to do as a relationship grows. This was a complete surrender. I was being taken hostage by him under the disguise of his overwhelming love for me. By the time I realized it, it was almost too late.
We had looked at houses and were signing the lease papers to make it official that day. That was the day I ended it. It was as if some survival instinct kicked in and allowed me the clarity to see how destructive and abusive the relationship had become. What was once beautiful had turned rancid. Somewhere along the line it turned from love to control, and I never saw it coming.
It was still just as intense as it had started, we were literally like magnets, drawn to each other beyond our own power but now the force that propelled us was dark and would only end with me being completely consumed by him or completely without him. I was not willing to be owned by him. It had to end.
The worst thing I’ve ever done? It’s hard to say for sure. But letting myself fall in love with someone who didn’t deserve it has to be near the top of the list.
Never Again.
Updated 6/14/11:
In an ironic twist, I am going to see Ray LaMontagne in concert tonight. Why is it ironic you ask? Because his song "You Are The Best Thing" was "our" song from the very beginning. I guess something good came from the experience, I got introduced to an amazing singer/songwriter and can now enjoy his music with a bit of sad reverence. This was the song that was supposed to be playing in the background as we danced around the kitchen and kissed while making dinner. It was a good plan.
Category:
abuse,
Indie Ink,
Love,
Sex
0
comments
Sweet Serendipity - Studio Thirty Plus Prompt
Author: blog xxx
This post in my response to this week's Studio Thirty Plus prompt: Serendipity
This one really gave me fits for some reason. It is an easy concept but was hard for me to articulate for some reason. I decided to give it a go...
If you aren't already part of Studio Thirty Plus, get over there and join! It's where all the cool kids are.
Sweet Serendipity
It was in those times that I thought of him because I felt like it was karma coming back around to me. I was being treated as harshly physically now as I had treated his feelings then. If I had loved him back would it be different? He would never hurt me, never think of raising a hand to me. He would have done nothing but love me but that wasn’t enough for me then.
This one really gave me fits for some reason. It is an easy concept but was hard for me to articulate for some reason. I decided to give it a go...
If you aren't already part of Studio Thirty Plus, get over there and join! It's where all the cool kids are.
Sweet Serendipity
It was sweet serendipity that brought me here. There really is no other way to describe it. There was no planning, no intention, no effort, no thought. It simply just happened. In the blink of an eye he was there standing in front of me.
I had known him several years ago but it may as well have been a lifetime ago. I had fallen for another man. He had simply not been good enough for me. I wanted someone better, someone that was more than what I thought he could be. He confessed his love to me, and I broke his heart. And that was the last time we spoke.
I had thought of him several times over the years. How kind he had been to me. How I knew that even after all of the hurt I had caused him that he would drop everything to help me if I needed him. And I had needed him so often in those years since we spoke last. Every time my Mr. Wonderful turned and hit me. Every time I was left on the floor, crying and wondering what I did to deserve to be treated so badly by someone I loved.
It was in those times that I thought of him because I felt like it was karma coming back around to me. I was being treated as harshly physically now as I had treated his feelings then. If I had loved him back would it be different? He would never hurt me, never think of raising a hand to me. He would have done nothing but love me but that wasn’t enough for me then.
This time had been worse than before. This time he was not going to stop until he killed me. There was no explanation for his rage, but that didn’t matter. He was angry and for some reason it was my fault. And he would make sure that I paid for it.
I don’t remember when it stopped or how. I don’t know how I survived but I did. I opened my swollen eyes and saw the answer standing in front of me. There, sitting quietly beside me in a hard plastic chair, was my answer. He had come for me. After everything, all of the hurt I caused him, he would make sure that I was never hurt again. His love would be my shield. He was my sweet serendipity.
Category:
abuse,
Serendipity,
Studio30Plus
0
comments
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