Thursday, April 26, 2012

Arrest over the Photos

An arrest was made over my photos.  His statement was that he found the photos after going through his fathers laptop after he died and seeing them made him so angry and disgusted that he vomited.  He then became enraged and sent the photos to me.

Then I got this email:

I just helping bailing my son out of jail.  How much more pain are you going to bring my family?  All I ever done to you is love and care for you.  I took you into my home and loved you like my own daughter.  How can you do this to S, A and me?  S has a wife and kids.  Do you now what they are going through right now?  I new you were angry but I never new you wanted to hurt me so bad.  You don't now the things I went through when you left.  I went through hell but i still loved you.  All I ever did was love you like my own and all you ever did was hurt my family.  Do you know what they did to S.  I wish I could go back and not make such a rash decicion in taking you home.  Had I now how much pain taking you home would bring me and my kids, I would never have done it.  II now that sounds harsh but you have hurt us so much since we met you. cant believe what is going on right now.  why are you doing this?  What happened was a long time ago.  You never told something was happening to you.  Why are you so angry at me and S now?  You are an adult now.  why can't you just put this past you?  He is dead.  This is making you a very angry person and all that anger is hurting other people now.  Why are you going after S and A and me now?  They didn't do nothing to you.  i love you so much but you are hurting me and my family to much for me to have you in are lives anymore.  Im so heartbroken that someone I loved so much could hurt me and my kids so bad.    

I am in pieces right now.  I can barely breathe.  Tomorrow is C's 3rd birthday.  I got him this
He is a little boy obsessed with cars/trucks and horses.  I'm so excited for him to have it, but I'm so heartbroken.  I miss him so much.  I think about him every single day.

I'm not doing well right now at all.  I'm feeling really alone and pretty lonely.  My relationship is pretty dead.  We don't fight or anything, it's just kind of flat....nothing there.  I don't have many friends and the ones that I do have are pretty tired of me.  I'm pretty tired of me.  I don't know how to keep doing this.

I feel like such garbage.  It's always been so easy for people to throw me away, and I mean literally, with garbage bags and everything.  Everyone who has ever called herself my "mom" wishes she hadn't ever met me.  I seem to do nothing but ruin lives.  No one has ever wanted me.  I've never belonged anywhere.  I've never had a "home."  I've never felt connected to anyone in life, and the one person I feel that connection with has been taken away from me because his mom doesn't want to be my family anymore.  Why?  I truly don't know why.  I have no value to anyone in life.  I have worked so hard to become valuable to someone in life, but it doesn't matter what I do or how hard I work.  I have no value.  No one wants me. 

I am a lonely piece of trash, violently spinning around and around in a large sucking tornado.  I want off the ride now.  I want to be burred in the landfill or recycled into something new.  Something with value.

I just want to die.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Maybe you're just not right for her...

I just had the fucking worst "couples" therapy session possible.  I haven't slept in a couple of days and I'm so tired.  I took time off of work for this therapy session and arrived 15 minutes early.  The therapist called us back 20 minutes late.  Actually she called my girlfriend back and said she wanted to see her first and then she'd see me.  So I waited more.

She calls me back and I sit in this old sofa that kind of sinks to the floor when you sit on it.  She kept doing this weird sucking thing, where she kind of sucked spit between her teeth repeatedly, like she had food stuck in them or something.  It's was weird.

The first thing out of her mouth is about how it's important to call and cancel if we can't make it and to show up on time.  She never once acknowledges that she was 20 minutes late.  The very first question she asks me is if I'm on any medication and what they are... this is after we sat down with a therapist for an hour giving her detailed info that she logged into the computer system so the therapist could see it before she met us.  She obviously did not take any time to read anything.  Then she asked very vague, hard to answer least for me anyway.

I answer her questions but I also say, "I'm really not sure how this is relevant."

"What do you think is wrong with your relationship?  How do you think you can fix it?"

"I'm not sure.  Um, therapy?"

"Well, maybe you just shouldn't be together and it took you six years to realize it."

Then she started asking me about my diet, my weight, my acne, my insomnia.  She lectures me on how important sleep is and that I should talk to my doctors about it.  I told her over and over again that I've tried everything and my doctors know about it.

"I see a doctor once a month, don't worry about it."

"Well, I think you should talk to them about it because sleep is very important."

"Okay, thanks."

Then she wants to know how much I weigh, and breaks out her little chart to see how I measure up.  Then she wants to know how long I've struggled with acne and what I've done about it.  Then she wants to know about my physical health.  I mentioned my hormone issues since the egg donation and OMG, she could not shut up about my period, especially since I don't ovulate normally.  She asked about frequency and wanted some pretty gross details about my periods.  She asked me about my periods over and over again.  Was she hoping for a different answer?  Did she just not hear me?  Was she hoping that she'd induce ovulation and menses if she asked about it enough?  Fuck.  She also wanted to hear all about the egg donation process and what the statistics are for problems to happen.  Um...How does that make a difference in my relationship?  She also wanted to talk about why we have so many animals.  She thinks Two dogs and Two cats is way too many, an "unhealthy amount."  My GF told her that I wanted to go to graduate school for social work and she went on and on about programs and advice on what I should do.  I just nodded. 

She kept asking about my medications and what they are all for.  She asked so many times I began to wonder if she either couldn't remember what I had said (and what she wrote down on her little scrap paper) or she thought I was lying about it.

"You're on too much medication."

"Yeah, I know."

"I don't think you need all this medication.  It's clearly not working for you."

"What?  I have my own personal doctors and therapists to worry about this stuff.  I'm here to help my relationship.  I don't know how any of this stuff matters."

"I don't think your medication is working for you.  There is no need to be on so many.  How long have you been on them?"

"I don't see why that is relevant.  I see a doctor once a month for my medication.  It's covered."

"Well, it's not working for you.  You are depressed."

"Seriously, how is this relevant?  I have doctors helping me, you know, the kind who went to medical school, not the social worker kind."  She is an LCSW.

"Well, you are depressed."

"Yeah, I am, but I think you're kind of an asshole."

"I don't appreciate being called an asshole."

"I don't appreciate your judgement."

"I think maybe you don't want to fix your relationship.  Maybe you are just not right for her.  Maybe 
you shouldn't be together."

She said that over and over again.  Every time I couldn't come up with an answer to her questions, she's tell me that I didn't want to fix my relationship.

Wow.  WTF?  I'm so beyond tired of my life right now.  I spent the entire afternoon/night in tears yesterday.  I went to work at 7AM, finished at 2:30PM because I took time off for this therapy.  I have not slept in two nights.  I'm fucking stressed out.  Maybe it's the lack of sleep, but I'm not functioning very well right now.  I sat in my car pretending to check my email on my phone until my girlfriend left.  Once she drove away I kind of lost it.  I started yelling in the car.  "I'm so fucking tired of this life.  Why can't anything be easy for me?  Why can't I figure anything out?  What the fuck is wrong with me?"  There were moments were some of this was near screaming.

I am supposed to go to DBT class tonight, but I'm not up for it.  I'm not going.  I don't have enough energy.  I've had a pretty hard week (last 7 days).  I've ruined relationships, had an old foster mom (one that was going to adopt me when I was 18) pretend like she couldn't remember who I am, I've found out where the photos came from, I've received unprovoked angry emails because of it, and in a few days it will be someone's 3rd birthday, and the second one I've missed.  I got him this really amazing gift that I'm so excited about because I know how much he is going to love it.  I would give anything to see him open it, even on video or something.  I don't even care if he knows it's from me.  I just want to see his eyes light up with excitement when he opens it.  People keep telling me that he'll look for me in 15 years, thinking that somehow that comforts me, but really it breaks me heart even more.  I know there are tons of you who think I deserved what happened, blah blah blah.  Deserved or not deserved.  It is still fucking agony.

I just want life to slow down a little bit for me.  I know that life isn't easy for anyone, and that bad stuff happens to everyone, but fuck, give me some kind of break.  I'm so exhausted and defeated.  I feel so hopeless.  I don't want my relationship to end, but it seems inevitable.  Even this crazy ass therapist thinks so.

When is life going to get easier?  When is life going to be worth living?  When am I going to figure this out?  I mean, really?  I'm so beyond exhausted from trying and failing and hurting.  I'm so tired of fucking up everything good in my life.  I'm tired of driving people away.  I'm tired of tiring people out.  I'm tired of people leaving.  I mean, fuck, I can't even keep internet/blog friends around.  It's much much worse in real life.  I'd take a massive beating over being dumped any day.  How sad is that?  I'd take almost any kind of abuse for people who didn't go away.  Shit, I'd cut off my legs and use them to beat myself up.  

I'm screaming and banging my head with my heads.  What am I supposed to do?  Tell me.  Somebody give me the answers.  My thoughts of dying are so strong right now.  It's been 9 weeks since I last cut myself but I want to so badly.  I need a sedative, a huge glass of wine, some chocolate, some cocaine, and a fucking hug.  

Monday, April 23, 2012

Martian girl

Sometimes I feel like some kind of martian/human mutt.  I do not understand this world.  I'm not adept to this world.  I do not understand people.  I have never had a healthy relationship with people.  People are attracted to me at first because of my differences.  The martian side of me is different, interesting, odd.  The human side of me is annoying, frustrating, overwhelming, uninteresting.  Once the novelty of the martian side wears off, and the human side becomes more known, people lose interest.  Eventually that relationship dissolves.  I don't know how to change it, but I can't live with it anymore either. 

I honestly and truly do not understand you people.  I don't know what you want.  I don't know what you don't want.  I just don't know how to be around you, but I also need you.  I need to be around you because otherwise I feel totally empty and alone.  I've felt empty and alone for my entire life and I'm frightened that it's just not fixable. 

I don't know what I keep doing that makes people pull away.  I don't know what to do to change it.  I need to change it because there is no way I'm going to be able to keep on living like this.  I live a very lonely life, and maybe that's part of the problem.  I'm lonely and starving for human connection, but I can't fully connect because I'm not like other people.  I yearn for love, relationships, connection, intimacy more than most people, and I'm even more terrified of it.  I've grown up and lived my life, pretty much alone.  I've never really had any friends.  I mean I have "friends," but not really close friends that I'd confide in.

I yearn family so much that it makes it nearly impossible to make friends.  I have this gaping hole in my soul that sucks everything into it, so I'm never able to build a stable foundation.  I always end up being me and screwing things up and I always end up feeling lost, defeated, defective, unlovable.  What do I need to do?  What can I do?  I feel so broken and unfixable.  I feel so hopeless.  I'm so sad and so tired of this pattern in my life, but I don't know how to break it.  If I weren't starving so much, I'd totally avoid relationships.

What is it about me that drives people away?  I've even done it on this blog and around the internet.  What about me is that off-putting?  I'm not writing this in an "oh poor me" sort of way.  I'm writing in a "please help me" sort of way.  How do become someone that people want?  How do I become someone that people love?  How do I become someone that people don't get tired of, that people don't dump?

Really sad day at school

I am currently sitting in my car around the corner from the school I was supposed to observe today.  I have not slept but I am feeling awake.  I'm having a difficult time calming myself down right now.  I'm sure it doesn't help that I stupidly mixed adderall (an amphetamine) and coffee.

I got to the school early this morning and went in to introduce myself.  This is when I discovered that there were volunteers in all four classrooms and all the teachers were in the office crying about another teacher who had been raped over the weekend.  I felt so bad for them.  I had to fight back the tears.  Tears for their pain, tears for the teacher, and tears for how much these women obviously care about her.
I rescheduled the review because it wouldn't be a fair evaluation. 

The director was in a lot of distress, because the teacher is her cousin and best friend.  She broke down crying and I sat with her for a while and then I made up a reason to leave.  I feel horrible about it.  She was obviously in need of a friend, but after half an hour of sitting with a sobbing woman and hearing graphic details about a rape, I was losing control and knew a panic attack was coming.  I gave the woman a hug, looked up the number to the rape crisis center on my phone and gave her the information, and practically ran to my car where I drove around the corner.  And here I sit, writing this blog entry in the hopes of calming my racing heart and steadying my shaky hands.  I'm so angry with myself.  This isn't about me.  This has nothing to do with my history.  Why am I making it about me?  I'm so self involved. 

I wish I could be a stronger person.  A better person.  I feel really selfish right now.  Why am I so ruled by my emotions to the point where I can't function or help other people?  Why can't I stop thinking about my stuff and focus on the pain someone else is feeling for once?  I'm pretty frustrated, angry, disgusted with myself right now.  I hate that I feel and do things like this.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

You are Wrong

  • You're an adult.  
  • He's dead.  
  • You're safe now.  
  • It's over.  
  • He can't take anything from you anymore.
  • He will never be able to hurt you again.   
I am.
He is.
I'm not.
it's not.
Yes he can.
He has.

These are lies or wishful thinking.  I have been marked for life.  I wear a scarlet letter on my chest.  He is part of me everyday.  I'll never be clean.  I feel so fucking dirty but I can't wash it off.  I will never be safe, feel safe.  I will never be free.  I've been marked, scarred, branded, infected.  I am damaged.   

I'm so full of sadness, anger, guilt, shame, confusion because there is love and yearning (and the shame those feelings cause) mixed in with all of that.

Monday, April 16, 2012

apathetically sad

I've been pretty depressed these last few days and I am not all that sure why.  I know it's kind of an oxymoron, but I'm feeling really apathetically sad.  I want to cry all the time.  I had therapy with Dr. K today and finding something to talk about was like looking for a single flea in field of waist high grass.  I had nothing to say but I wanted to fall apart.  I didn't let myself, but it was a constant battle.  My session basically went like this:

Dr. K asks a generic question.  oh no, I have to speak now.  I can feel the water filling my eyes and the pressure in my throat.  Thank God I bought a super cold bottle of water to break my twenty dollar bill so I could pay for therapy.  I take a sip of really cold water.  The pressure in my throat and face begins to dissipate.  I have control again.

We weren't talking about anything emotionally charged.  We were talking about DBT classes and if I want to continue.  Honestly, I don't know.  I feel like such a failure.  Dr. K seemed shocked that I could remember all the skills listed in the last module.  I feel like she thinks that I don't take it seriously, that I don't want to learn anything new, or something.  That's just not true.  I have a hard time with DBT, but I'm trying.  I want it to work for me because I want to find a way to "have a life worth living."  It's not working for me.  I don't know what I'm doing wrong.  I don't know why I can't figure it out.  Everyone else seems to be benefiting from the program.  I'm the only one who can't seem to figure it out.  I feel like if DBT doesn't help me then there is no more hope for me.

Things aren't so great with CT either.  I walked out of session early last week.  She keeps pushing me, and sometimes not gently, to "not go down that road" every time I say something slightly negative about myself.  It's becoming really upsetting.  I feel like I can't speak because apparently everything I have to say means something negative about me.  I asked her what do I do that makes so many people dislike me.  So many people want to hurt me?  What is it about me that is so easy to hate?  She cut me off.  Instead of feeling like she's trying to keep me off the path of self hatred, it feels like she just doesn't want to hear what I have to say.  I feel like I tire EVERYONE out eventually, including therapists.  I'm not good at relationships.  If my relationship skills were like brownies, I either have soupy chocolate in the pan or brownies so hard they can be used as weapons, or charcoal in a BBQ.  I never have the perfect warm gooey chocolate morsel I crave so much.  I can't ever figure out the right temperature.  I'm a faulty oven, one that should probably be thrown out and replaced with a brilliant, shiny, new stainless steal masterpiece.  Right now I'm feeling really discouraged in life and therapy.  I'm feeling the need to self destruct, but I can't because I'll lose my job.

I've been looking for a second job, or at least a job that won't lay me off every summer like my current job has been doing.  I don't know why or when my job of 6 years is now laying everyone off in the summers.  The program is dying.  I have a few that I really want, but I'm pretty sure I won't get because I don't speak spanish.  It's so disheartening.  I'm qualified for so many great jobs, but I can't get them because I don't speak Spanish.  I need to find a good job or second job because I'm pretty sure my relationship isn't going to last much longer and I need to figure out a way to live in LA with two large dogs, and at least 1 cat by myself.  That's kind of impossible.  If I work two or three jobs I could do it, but then I would have to find a place with a yard because I won't be home enough to take care of my dogs.  I guess I could always leave LA, but that means I have to leave the couple of friends I have and my therapists.

Now I really want brownies.  Brownies and wine.  Sounds like a good lunch/dinner to me!  Where's the nutella?

Sunday, April 15, 2012

just one of those crappy days

Why are people are relationships so hard for me?  Every relationship I've ever had has had a time clock on it. There is always a count down until I fuck everything up.

I've been in bed crying and sleeping on and off all day today.  I wish I could blame it on PMS or something but I can't.  Unfortunately, I'm just kinda nuts.  I'm sure it doesn't help that I haven't eaten today.  My girlfriend hesitated and had a kind of shitty thing to say when I asked if I could eat some groceries she just bought.  That hesitation and shitty comment is enough for me to go buy my own groceries from now on.  I'm also really sad thinking about the people who probably sent me the kiddy porn.  I know it's kind of stupid that I feel this way since I haven't seen them since I was 12. 

So I've been hiding in bed all day, sleeping on and off, trying to escape myself. 

Friday, April 13, 2012

I love this!!!

This could seriously be about me. I'm not nearly as talented as the girl at the end and I never got a family, but still.  I love this foster care video.

The translation is:"It's never too late to help someone on the right track. We need more foster families for youths between the ages of 15 and 17."

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Stolen images. Stolen innocents.

On January 10th, 2012 I received an email containing images of me as a child.  Those who regularly read my blog and happened to catch entries before I deleted them witnessed my subsequent breakdown.  I was sitting in my car after my DBT class when I decided to check my email on my phone.  I opened an email from a really horrible name  The subject was "You make me sick."  I clicked on the weird message, and the attached photo and became frozen.  I literally could not move.  I could not look away.  I couldn't breathe.  On the 10th day of 2012, I learned that I was in child pornography.  To say I freaked out is...  Well I don't know what it is, but I exploded and melted until there was nothing left.  I sat in my car until I could breathe again and then drove around the block to a grocery store where I purchased razorblades and vodka.  I drove to a park, planning to drink until I disappeared, but the magic liquid in that glass bottle didn't make me disappear.  The more I drank, the more lost I felt.  I became nothing but raw emotion.  I was swallowed up by my past, flashbacks, insanity.  I sat in a park,, drinking, slicing my skin with razorblades, and praying that someone would come hurt me, beat me up, kill me.  I sat there like that until I walked home and passed out around 4AM.  

I received three more photos after that and have had to deal with people from the FBI and LAPD.  Today I learned that the IP address of the computer that sent those photos is in Arizona.  Not a surprise, but still painful.  I feel like a little girl all over again.  I don't want people to know what happened.  I feel so much shame.  So much guilt.  I don't want anyone to get into trouble.  I feel disgusting and sad.  I feel so confused.  I love the people that I'm supposed to expose and punish.  I don't want to hurt anyone.  I've hurt so many people.

I've had my past blown up in my face and drilled through my eyes.  I do not have any memories of photos being taken and I still can't remember, but I think about them all the time.  How many exist?  How many people have seen them?  Did/does anyone know it was me?  If I don't remember the photos, what else can't I remember?  Why can't I remember the photos?  I found myself staring at the photos repeatedly.  Just staring.  Not really thinking.  Just staring.  Disbelief?  Some morbid curiosity?  I'm not sure why I kept looking at them.  It's like seeing it through my 9 year old eyes all over again.  I'm that little girl in those photos all over again.  It's hard to believe how little I was.  It's hard to believe how much bigger his body was than mine.  It's hard to believe I was part of that.  It's hard to believe I didn't tell anyone.

I want to remember but I don't want to remember.  I don't know what I want.  I wish I didn't ever find out that there were photos taken and I wish LAPD had never told me that I was now a "known victim."  I did not want to know that they had seen me before.  People have been calling me a liar my whole life and there have been times where I started to think that maybe it was all in my head.  While being called a liar was extremely painful, it offered some comfort in a weird twisted way.  Maybe they were right.  Maybe none of it really happened.  If it was all a bad dream then maybe I'd be able to wake up.  Maybe the flashbacks, panic attacks, and cutting would stop.  Maybe I'd stop jumping at abrupt male voices.  Maybe I'd stop being afraid of men.  Maybe I still had a chance at being sane and normal, and a little less fucked up.  Maybe I'd stop wanting to die.  These photos take all that hope away.  These photos bring extra pain.  These photos are undeniable proof that my nightmares are real, that the monster under my bed is real.  The monster that lives inside me is real.  That I can't wake up.  That these flashbacks and panic attacks, and horrifying dreams are here to stay.  That I was really part of some really horrible, disgusting things. That I will always be fucked up. 

Discovering that I've been part of child pornography adds a whole new level of pain and destruction to my history.  I feel violated and exposed in ways that I didn't before.  Those images are out there forever.  I feel so confused.  So ashamed.  So sad.  So angry.  So disgusted.  By the situation and by me.  I feel so sick and dirty.  I feel so much more shame and fear that people will find out and judge me.  I was forcibly raped and it was captured on film.  I was willing and it was captured on film.  I used it to get attention and it was captured on film.  I was in so much agony and it was captured on film.  I enjoyed it and it was captured on film.  One of the most confusing, traumatizing, and painful times of my life has been frozen in time forever.  It can never be erased.

The most intimate and vulnerable part of a person is their sexuality.  The most intimate and vulnerable part of me was exploited and exposed for everyone to see and it will continue to be forever.  The most intimate and private part of me has been captured in images forever.  It is the part of me that I'm supposed to give to people I choose to give it to.  It's supposed to be the way I connect with someone.  The way I love my partner.  It's supposed to be my choice who gets to see that part of me, but I no longer have a choice.  It has been stolen from me.  It was stolen first by my foster father and it is being stolen by everyone that looks at those photos.  My foster father stole my sexuality and my body from me and those photos will continue to steal a little bit from me for the rest of my life.  I will forever be wondering about who has seen them, who is looking at them right now.  Who is enjoying them.  Enjoying all my pain and shame.  How many other little girls are being hurt by them, because of them.  Because of me?  I will forever feel guilty that I didn't tell anyone.  That I let it go on for three years.  That I didn't prevent anyone else from getting hurt.  Those photos document one of the most painful, shameful, and confusing parts of myself and every time someone looks at them, they steal a little bit of me all over again.

Sunday, April 8, 2012


Today was a really strange day.  I went to breakfast with some friends, but one of them is a friend that kind of depresses me, although it was nice to see her actually worry about eating right to manage her diabetes.  I was so exhausted and could only think about when I could go home and be alone.  I feel like such an asshole saying that.  I should be thankful that anyone wants to be around me.  It's not like a have a ton of friends.  I am thankful for anyone who wants me around.  After hanging out with friends I went home and slothed around doing nothing.  I've been really tired lately because I haven't been able to sleep.  What else is new, right?

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Love, want, need

It's my second night without sleep...again.  I had my ticket in my hand, on the platform, about to board the train to Slumber Town when my dogs dashed outside, barking madly at a opossum.  I had to get out of bed to make them stop.  I've been wide awake since.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Four Strings Attached

A sad, dusty little friend in my closet is going to get a cleaning, polish, brand new high quality strings, and some personal attention.  I sold some art supplies and bought some professional strings.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012


Quotes from my class tonight:

"Everything is as it should be."
"Everything has a cause."
"Everything happens for a reason."
"Not everyone is destroyed by pain.  If you want to get through suffering, you can.  It's a choice."
"The first thing you can do is solve the problem."
"You can make something really negative in your life, a positive."(meaning you can take something horrible that happened to you and make it a negative).
"Some people get up when life knocks them down, and some people just stay down."
Suffering is a choice."

I almost started sobbing in my DBT class tonight.  I left feeling really angry and sad.  What is the cause of my childhood?  Why did I suffer so much?  Is it because I am weak?  Everything is as it should be?  Everything has a cause?  Everything happens for  a reason? Suffering is a choice?  What are the reasons that I was never adopted?  My mind immediately went through a list of what is wrong with me.  It immediately asked, "Why can't people love you.  Why do you keep fucking up?"  I don't know what other causes there can be except for me.  How do I make a positive out of any of it?  How do I turn living in 42 foster homes and being abandoned repeatedly in my childhood into a positive?  What about being sexually abused and violently raped from 9-12?  What about the severe abuse I suffered with my mother and other foster homes?  I got a call from a social worker today responding to my email I wrote my former case worker like a year ago, asking about why Tim was never held responsible.  Basically, she said she can't tell me what happened because there aren't any records.  Basically Arizona says it never happened.

Lawyers and social workers told me that they couldn't prosecute Tim because I was mute, that I had to tell them what happened if I wanted Tim to get into trouble if he did the things I said he did.  I didn't want to get anyone in trouble and I wasn't able to speak.  Why did they need me to speak?  I couldn't speak.  They shouldn't have dropped the case because I went mute, they should have fought harder for me for that very reason.  Why couldn't they use my medical records?  Why couldn't they use my journal?  Why didn't child protective services protect me, like, ever?

Is suffering really my choice?  How do I choose not to suffer?  How do I choose not to have panic attacks?  How do I choose not to have flashbacks?  How do I choose not to have really bad nightmares and insomnia?  Did I choose these things?  If so, how do I choose not to have them?  Not everyone is destroyed by suffering, but not everyone has had to survive what some people are forced to survive.  If everything has a reason, what are the reasons for the things that have happened in my life?  What are the reasons if not me?  The reason has to be me.  There are just way too many repeats in my life for there to be any other real reason.  I am the cause and the reason.  I have to be.  I am the common denominator. 

"Everything is as it should be," makes me feel like I deserved all of it.  Maybe I did.  Maybe I was just born really screwed up.  I want to feel better, behave better, make better choices.  I really do.  I'm trying really hard. I am going to therapy 3 times a week and a DBT class 1 time a week.  I have been reading a lot of books.  I've been trying to use the skills they teach in the classes.  I've been taking vitamins, supplements, going to doctors, trying every medication, and therapy suggested.  I would choose not to suffer if I knew how to.  

Monday, April 2, 2012

obsessively disturbed

I've been laying in bed trying to sleep since 11pm.  It is now almost 3AM.  The reason I cannot sleep is because I have been ruminating and obsessing about something all day.  I've been consumed with it.  I'm consumed and disturbed.  I'm so worried and disgusted with myself

A friend helped me remove horrible photos from my computer a while ago and she's been keeping them on a flash drive because I thought I needed to keep them in case LAPD wasn't able to find them on my harddrive.  My friend handed me the flashdrive today (er...I guess it was yesterday) so we could destroy it by running over it with her car.  I didn't want to at the moment because I was worried it would be difficult for me and I wanted to be able to hold it together while we went to a craft store.

A rush of warmth filled my face, and there was a soft ringing in my ears the minute I saw that thing.  I wasn't able to think of anything else, once that plastic touched my skin.  I rolled it around, mesmerized by this very ordinary, everyday object in my hands.  It was so small, but it made me feel even smaller.  Such a tiny piece of plastic held so much power over me.  I imagined myself swinging a hammer as hard as I could, smashing it over and over, debris flying everywhere, even hitting me in the face.  I imagined myself running away with it and hiding, protecting it from anyone and everyone, running my finger over it and chanting something ridiculous like, "My precious" like Smeagol from Lord of the Rings.  Hiding in a very dark place somewhere cradling it.  I imagined myself sitting in the dark, my face illuminated by the bright glow of my computer screen, staring at the contents of that flashdrive.  What does that mean?  What does that say about me?

That little flashdrive keeps popping in my head no matter how hard I try to keep it away.  I've pushed it away as hard as I can, only slightly managing to put it behind the current moment.  I'm really upset that I have this intense desire and urge to look at the photos.  Thoughts of how I could sneak into my friends house to get the flashdrive have popped into my head.  WTF?  First of all, it's sick that I'm even thinking about the photos, it's seriously horribly scary that I'm so obsessed that I can't stop thinking about them and even thought about breaking and entering my friends house to get them.  I would NEVER do something like that.  I don't want to see the photos again.  Never ever ever again.  NEVER again.  I really don't.  So why am I filled with this powerful urge to look at them?  Why can't I stop thinking about them?

I am laying on my couch because I've been having this intense anxiety about sleeping in my bed on and off for a few months.  Well, it has come back.  My bed is scary again.  Why?  Is it because it is elevated in a low loft?  Is it because the room is so small?  Why would my comfortable bed, filled with snoring dogs and girlfriend fill me with so much anxiety?  I'm under my cozy down blanket, with a cat on my back trying to relax and fall asleep, but I can't because I'm being held captive by a piece of plastic, at a friends house.  There is seriously something wrong with me.  Why am I so freaking crazy?  Why can't I be a normal person?