Well, here it is... My first ever blog post.  If you're still reading at this point, then you should know that I am writing because this is what I used to do to deal with my pain, and for some reason, I stopped.  Of course, the last time I was a "writer", it meant carrying around a tattered notebook at all times, praying that I would not lose it or drop it.  I didn't lose it, but I let someone read it, who then carelessly left it in a place that all but invited others to go through it (they did, and I stopped writing.)  Now, however, we have the (false) anonymity of the internet, so I'm going to give it a go and post all of my worldly secrets here instead. 

     So let us begin with today.  For the first time in over three years, I felt the urge to cut.  It was not overwhelming, and I did not give in.  But it was tempting.  I was in pain.  When I am in pain, I sometimes feel like I have no outlet, no voice.  This is something that I am really trying to work on and become more aware of, but I admit that my old standby is to simply allow the pain to wash over me, to the expense of everything else.  I find my ability to function almost non-existent.  All I can feel is the sharpness in my chest, and the wave of liquid pain that circulates through my body.

     When I become nonfunctional the most is when someone is angry at me.  I shut down.  This is pretty much mostly my fault (ahh.  self-loathing).  Sometimes, though, people get angry at me, and in their anger, they say nasty things, like "fuck you", "you're just like your family", and the one that might as well be a fucking knife, "you're stupid."  While I realize that many times things are said out of anger, being on the receiving end breaks me apart every time.  I have spent a lifetime dealing with self-esteem issues, and I realize that self-esteem comes from within (just like everything else).  But how can I have self-esteem hearing these things?  How should I react?  I'm not sure.  When I tell the other person that it's not okay to say these things to me, the response is that "it's true", or "I'm in pain, that's why it's okay to lash out at you and make you feel pain too." 

     Ahh, shit.   I'm creeping closer to 30, and all I've had a dysfunctional, sometimes abusive relationships.  The relationship I'm in has been transforming and positive.  But he's got a temper.  I don't have a fucking clue how to handle it except to run away and cry (as you can see, I'm tough).
 
     I was sexually abused starting at 13.  Fuck the details for now.  Before that even started, I lived in a dysfunctional family with a sibling who had been sexually abused.  My parents were (I feel) useless at times... They didn't handle my sibling's abuse, and as a result, my family was terrorized by the acting out that occured.  After that sibling went off to college, my parents split up.  ::Begin next round of abuse::  I finally told 1) authorities as my summer camp 2)the police and 3)my school.  This also lead to my mom finding out.  Authorities at my summer camp called my shrink.  School called my mom.  Police told me that without the support of my family, prosecute would be tough.  My mom handled it by doing the usual, which was NOTHING.  My dad played oblivious, as he had the excuse that my mom never told him (My mom lived two miles from him, and I saw him every day). 

     Finally, I was so pissed at my parents for letting me down that I went to live in a foster home.   Should have known.  Foster father gave me shots of liquor and kept trying to fuck me. I ran away, and told authorities... "But he's an esteemed man in the community!", they said.  I bounced from house to house, staying with friends. 

   At 17, I was raped by a man who would eventually become my husband.  At 19, I married him because I knew that nobody else would want me, I knew that I was already destroyed.  He stalked me and followed me constantly.  He went through my stuff.  He broke into my car.  He checked my phone messages.  I finally left him when he told me he was a pedophile.  He continued to stalk me, once even breaking into my house while drunk.  The day he stopped stalking me was the day he went to prison for rape (not for raping me, but for raping someone else.)  I divorced him while he was in prison.  I am terrified of the day he gets out.  It's been over 3 years since I last heard his voice, and I am still frightened.  I still have anxiety attacks.  I have panic attacks, thinking that he is in the house.

     I live with my boyfrind.  We mostly get along pretty good.  We are both intellectually curious, bright people.  Sometimes that leads to crazy bullshit.  Yelling matches.  The thing is, he's one of the smartest people I know.  Sometimes I feel like I live in a world of phony idiots, and he's not one of them, so that's why we mostly get along.  I love him, but I don't pretend to think that love is easy, or that if it is true love, it's easy.  That's complete bullshit.  That's for people who don't want to have to think.  And it's not realistic.

   I'm tired, for now.  It's been an exhausting little journey this evening.  I may post again today.  Feel free to leave comments or suggestions.  I don't see myself as censoring comments, but I'm begging you to please be respectful, as this is my personal trauma we're talking about, and I could use some friendliness right about now.