Thursday, January 19, 2012

Unwated images

Trigger warning for this entry.

Despite my seriously messed up dreams I slept about 8 hours today, off and on, and I felt really great most of the day, physically.  Not so much mentally, but I'll take whatever I can get.  I'm a bit exhausted now that I've left therapy.  It's nice to have gotten some sleep though.
 
Last Tuesday I received an anonymous email with images of me as a child.  Horrifying images.  Disgusting images.  Graphic images.  I totally lost it on Tuesday.  I really lost it.  I had no idea photos existed and I could not understand who would send them to me or why.  I have since received four emails, and three different photos.  Two emails had the same photo, and one email was a giant photo of thumbnails from a video.  I now have a pretty good idea who sent them to me and it makes me really sad because it was someone I really looked up to and cared about as a child.  The emails make his feelings about me pretty clear.  They make his hatred and disgust for me pretty clear.

I do not remember photos ever being taken.  I do not have any memory of it at all and that really bothers me.  Why don't I remember?  What else don't I remember?  How many exist?  Who else has seen them?  Are they on the internet somewhere?  What would make this person send them to me like that?

The last email I got has really messed me up.  I'm having a really hard time with it.  In this picture I'm so tiny and so scared.  I mean I'm so tiny.  I was a very small child until I reached puberty at 13 and grew and grew and grew until I stood the five foot 8 inches I am today.  When I was 9, I was the smallest kid in my class, and I was way older than everyone because I hadn't been to school in America regularly until I was 8.  I still have this really weird outfit I got for my birthday when I was 9.  I really loved it.  It was a size 6x (x does not mean extra large) in little girls.  That's tiny for a 9 year old.  I can't imagine ever being that small.  It kind of feels like I was born a fully grown adult.

The sheets in this picture haunt me to this very day.  They are the sheets that replaced my Gummi Bear sheets.  My nightmares are full of these ugly stripped floral sheets.  I don't know what to do with these visual images.  I remember the actual event in this last picture, but I don't remember ever being so tiny.  I'm having a really difficult time with all of it.  My gf found my camera in my bed last night (I was taking images off my camera) and she cracked a joke about taking dirty pictures and I had to go take a shower so I could break down.  I  sat down in the shower, letting the water flow down my back and face as I cried and cut myself.  I can't make the images go away.  I can't stop remembering.  I can't stop dreaming.  I can't stop re-experiencing the event in this photo.  I break down crying for no reason.  Opening my computer makes my heart race.  I can't think about anything else, even when I try to force myself.  I've tried everything-- drawing, showering, music, walking my dogs, cutting, more cutting, burning, pounding my head on things, sedatives.  I reported the images to the proper authorities and I changed my email.  I don't know what else to do.  I sent the images to the address that the police officer told me to send them.  I can also go to the FBI in person and I tried, but when I walked in to this busy place full of powerful men, I freaked out and left.   

I don't know what to do to make this panic I feel go away.  I don't know how to erase the event from my head.  I think about what happened in this photo all day long and I dream about it at night.  I have been feeling so mortified and disgusted and ashamed that I have been afraid to tell anyone.  I keep hearing that little tiny girl in those photos screaming in pain and I keep hearing his voice calling me vulgar names and telling me to shut up.  I keep feeling suffocated by his weight.  I have such a hard time breathing when those feelings engulf me.  I keep hearing him laughing at my tears.  I keep hearing the rage in his voice when he yells at me for screaming or fighting back.  I keep feeling his hands over my mouth.  I keep smelling those hands.  I keep smelling cigarettes and beer mixed with body smells.  I can't make it stop and it's pretty overwhelming.  I either feel completely overwhelmed or literally nothing at all and both are pretty unbearable.

Why can't I just get over this fucked up crap and move on with my life?  Why can't I just put it behind me?  Why can't I just pretend it doesn't exist?  Why do I torture myself like this?  How do I stop?  I hate this and I hate myself for it.  I'm so messed up and crazy.  I'm so fucked up and I can't stand it.  I can't stand this crazy creature I've become.  Do you know what it's like to hate yourself so much that you grimace every time you walk past a mirror?  Do you know what it's like to hate yourself so much that you wish someone would seriously physically hurt you?  I do.