About 11 years ago, a woman flew out from Georgia to meet me.
Around 6 years ago another woman drove from Chicago to Oregon to meet me.
Messed up psycho me.
They both met me on the message board I used to write on.
The first one I think left disappointed. My quiet non-impressive real day to day person that I am every day didn't match up to the online person that wrote the powerful posts. I think she was expecting to find some enlightened being. She came looking for the healer, and found only me.
The second one, came looking for me. She was looking for the flawed person that wrote not the magical on line persona. Because she came to see the real person, she got to meet both of me.
I still find it mind blowing that anyone would travel over 1/2 the U.S. to meet me. Let alone two people.
I guess something deep inside of me can't let go of the self hatred that has haunted me all my life.
How the hell did that hatred get implanted in my brain? Were there some words spoken to me that planted that seed? Was it a physical action? non-action? a pill? how in the hell does something that damaging get in the soul of a young child.
If I can't like my self how can other? A riddle that haunts me too.
Therapy didn't fix this issue, but it added a strong challenging counter argument. It put a healing salve on the wound. The issue has scarred over inside of me. I no longer HATE my self. Now days its more of a you irritate me some days, kinda vibe.
While not at 100% peace with my body, I have come a long ways in making friends with it. But when the shit hits the fan, guess what gets the fuck burned, hit, punched and scratched out of it? Yup my body.
Today I gave up on trying medications to help with the nerve pain.
Resigning my self to being in pain. May be the medication trails are failing because I am suppose to be in pain.
I sat in the doctors office today and was questioned point blank about how I was doing with the suicidal issues I wrestle with. As usual I was honest.
"For some reason, I have no idea why, an awful lot of people are attached to me. That is why I can tell you that I am still fighting the urges, that plus I promised my therapist I would stay alive until I was 65, after that the contract come up for renegotiation."
She looked at me, and didn't say anything for a second then scooted her chair closer and leaned into make direct eye contact. "Are you serious that you have no idea?"
I of course being the big chicken that I am, ran in my head. (dissociation...a handy skill when you have no where to physically run too.)
She chased me with her eyes trying to keep the eye contact.
Then she told me why people like me.
I have heard those words before, but never literally face to face, from someone who has seen me at my worst and knows a lot of my dark secrets, and is in that bunch of people who like me none the less.
I left the appointment and bawled all the way home.
Those words are like a key trying to open a damaged lock.
...how the hell did that hatred get implanted in my brain?
Were there some words spoken to me that planted that seed?
Was it a physical action? A non-action? a pill?
how in the hell does something that damaging get in the soul of a young child.
I know the answer to these questions.
The soul shattering damage is the result of the sexual abuse I lived through as a child.
Boundaries shot all to fucking hell.
Emotions scrambled and distorted.
Brain and body severed.
The seeds of hatred planted.
You didn't kill all of me. You might have changed me and set me on a path of self hatred. You might have shattered my soul and messed up my head, killed parts of me, but you didn't kill all of me.
I am like that severely injured burned and battered dog that licks the hand of the vet that is euthanizing it. You turned me into a monster, so I focus the hate inwards on me so I harm no one but myself.
I refused to die back them.
I am still refusing to die today.
You will not win.
I know you can't fathom how your actions can still haunt me today so many years later. This hell is not my burden to carry.
But I can't put it down.
Since I can't put it down, I swing it like a bat. I go after monsters that haunt other survivor's. I reach out to help others from a place of deep understanding. Each time I have reached for another survivor I am in a way reaching for that lost little girl in me too.