by Band Back Together | Jan 20, 2015 | Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Psychological Manipulation, Self-Esteem, Suicide |
I guess I am not your typical abuse survivor. I still hurt from the turmoil that I have gone through, but I will not ever allow it to control me or change how I feel about me. Healing myself was ugly, hard work, but I did it.
I thought a long time about no longer allowing myself to be angry with this person. I still have an emotional response to the memory, but I chose to learn from where I had been in life. I understood both sides of the coin. The first step was learning and accepting that I did not have to allow those things to make me feel like I was the worst person on the planet. It is not easy to let these things go, by the way. Healing the wounds of the Soul is very dirty, very ugly, very personal, and of course, very hard work.
Yet, it is work that is well worth the effort because it helps us to grow into who we are meant to be. It takes time, patience and lots of acceptance of ourselves with all of our flaws. It is not for the faint of heart. Judging from the things that I have learned, I find that the only thing that is missing for a whole lot of people on this planet is NOT the balls to do anything, but rather the permission.
It seems kind of weird to think that we would need to permit ourselves to feel one way or another. We have been taught to turn the other cheek and “take it like a man,” and when we did, we just ended up getting hurt.
I was not meant to be someone’s target, but that is how they win – by our being so damned down on ourselves that eventually, the control that they have wielded for so long finally makes us sick enough in the soul to end our own pain. If I did not choose to let my abuser’s own sickness of the soul further permeate my soul, I would have probably done something very bad to myself, and would not have even tried to start my own healing practice (which, that is what I am in this lifetime – a Medicine Woman. My first client was me). Had I not decided to stop the ongoing recording that was his voice, and then eventually my own voice agreeing with him, I would not be here to tell anyone that there is another way of looking at what you have gone through.
I am not saying that you have to literally make amends with whoever it was who hurt you, but you can make amends with you, over what they did to you. You can heal yourself through meditation, art, journaling, through a whole lot of different things. You can go on to be everything you want to be, in your own life.
The reality is that we have all been through a whole lot. The thing about verbal or emotional abuse is that, whatever is being said, is not the truth.
This is the beauty of the other side of things, the part that, when we are in the throes of all the things that we need to escape, is that WE are who create ourselves. We are lucky when we are afforded with the chance to recreate ourselves after we have been what seems as though an eternal wounding. It only stays that way if you let it stay that way. This is one of those things that we are not taught. The sting from it all is not forever. You can create a new thought about it.
Creating new thoughts about anything at all is how this consciousness was created. We were all and each created in the image that is that of Love, not division. What abusers like to do is divide us from all that we know, and then eventually, from all that we are. They do not want us to be who we are – they need to create something that they can call their own. We, on the other hand, have the chance to create beauty from the excrement left by the abuse. It is the other side of the coin, really.
Sure, we can choose to think about our abusers as the pinata at a birthday party, but that just creates within us a negative energy like them. It is our downfall that we feel the need to convince our abusers that we are not the bad person that they have told us we are. It is not up to us to convince anyone else about who we are. We only need to be able to see ourselves as lovable and worthwhile.
Think about it. The thing that makes us all want to cry are the things that are said that hurt us. Okay fine. BUT, the thing that makes us crazy is our trying to convince anyone else who we are. If it is not the truth, it is not the truth, and no one can change that. Truth is truth, no matter what, no matter what anyone else has to say about you.
You went through what you went through for no other reason than that you loved someone else. It is okay to accept that you have come a very long way. You are no longer required to believe what you were told. You alone have walked the fire, barefoot and without anyone there to teach you how to not get burned.
The grass is not greener anywhere else. No one tells us about the messes that they make. They only point out the messes that we have had a hand in helping to create. When we stop thinking that the grass might be greener, that we could have done something different, this is when you would do well to remind yourself that grass does not grow in cement, but only up through the cracks which reveal the truth of the ground beneath it.
There are a lot of ways to think about being abused. One day, the only thought in your head will be that you survived it, and that the rest of the world can kiss your sweet okole.
Aloha!
by Band Back Together | Dec 17, 2014 | Anxiety, Depression, Loneliness, Suicide |
A man I met on the internet is planning his suicide. I’ve never met him in person. He bought a rope tonight. He seems like a nice guy, has a dog and a job. He set the date to end his life. I don’t know what his hair smells like or which cigarettes he smokes. He told us he is taking some time beforehand to say his goodbyes. Tonight has been spinning.
There is nothing quite like the plight of another to bring you out of your own mental suffering. My anxiety, my depression, my broken relationships, all of it can wait. This stranger needs me. I think he went to sleep. I wanted to talk to him, but he wasn’t there. I messaged him for an hour- just ramblings. Thoughts on the topic including my own attempt. I told him about the drugs I am on, the exercises my counselor has recommended. I told him about the song I use to get through the winter, and the blue light device my husband bought me to help. I don’t want to leave him alone- even if he hates me for it- because alone is the worst way to feel.
I don’t know this stranger friend. Yet I want to save his life. I want to hear his heartbeat more than ever now. I want to feel how he feels in a hug. He is kind. He’s funny and witty; he knows things that he teaches us. But he is broken. He is broken in a way we can all relate to. I don’t know any underlying cause for his depression. He doesn’t need one. He doesn’t need to explain himself to anyone. Everyone should try to help him. No one deserves to feel so low that their only escape is permanence.
I would like to meet my stranger friend one day. I just didn’t expect it to be so painful.
by Band Back Together | Dec 16, 2014 | Anger, Anxiety, Bipolar Disorder, Inpatient Psychiatric Care, Loss, Suicide |
I feel like I’ve lost enough recently. In the last year I lost my best friend (she won’t speak to me) and several close friends to different situations. None of them are dead, but sometimes things can’t be put back together.
I lost what I thought was my future. A career that I was brilliant at, had me trembling and crying behind closed doors from anxiety and bipolar disorder. I quit in August.
I lost the rest of my sense of peace and independence shortly thereafter and spent some time including my birthday in a psychiatric hospital.
I live with my parents now, and I’m trying desperately to get back on my feet, but my brain is fighting with me every step of the fucking way. I’m battling suicidal thoughts, panic attacks, and anger I never knew I had in me.
But plot twist. My parents are moving cross country and it’s no longer my choice. I’m going with them. I’m leaving my friends, my mentor, my therapist, my home.
I’m left grasping at straws.
I’m afraid of how much more I can lose because I’m losing the fight. Even when I try with everything that God gave me, it just doesn’t seem to be enough.
I miss my best friend. I miss my independence. I miss the me who could glow and love and feel joy. I never thought mental illness could cost this much.
by Band Back Together | Nov 19, 2014 | Cancer and Neoplasia, Child Sexual Abuse, Childhood Bullying, Date/Acquaintance Rape, Fear, Pet Loss, Suicide, Teen Suicide, Violence |
I am a seventeen year old girl. For quite some time, I had been experiencing strange feelings. Around ten months ago, I had an illness that lasted for three months. No doctor could tell the exact reason. Some of them said it was related to some kind of mental disturbance. I thought about my life at that moment. Everything was fine, so I ignored it.
Six months later, I found myself having trouble sleeping, isolating myself from people, and having suicidal thoughts. Everything in my life was amazing then. I couldn’t figure out what was causing this, and because I failed to understand myself, everyone else did too. Three months later, during a chemistry test, I went blank and felt like a corpse.
I had figured it out, I had been raped.
It had started when I was nine years old. My mother had been transferred to a different state than where my father lived. We were living with my uncle and his family. I was very innocent, and was irritated and let down by my cousins who constantly mocked at me for everything I did.
One day, while my mom was at work, one of my male cousins came into my room and locked the door. He asked me to play with him. I was glad someone wanted to play with me. He wanted to play house, so he played the role of my husband. As the time to sleep came, he lay next to me and felt me all over, making me uncomfortable. He groped my tiny breasts and kissed me repeatedly. I felt so bad, I asked him to leave. I didn’t really know what all was happening, but I knew it wasn’t right. From then on, I avoided being with him alone. Time passed, we moved back in with my dad, and the incident was soon forgotten.
When I was twelve, I was at another uncle’s house. My mom went out for sometime, and I was alone with my uncle. He sat beside me and hugged me. Then, he started touching me everywhere, and slid his hands inside my shirt. I ran away and stayed in the bathroom until my mom returned. I thought about telling her, but I was worried she wouldn’t believe me, so I didn’t say anything.
The next year, we stayed at my grandfather’s house, without our parents. One night, my aunt’s husband woke me up in the middle of the night by running his fingers up and down my legs. I was horrified and ran to the bathroom. My younger sister was sleeping in the same room, so I went back to the room, praying he wouldn’t still be there. I didn’t want to shout because my sister would wake up, and she was too young to witness this. He kept trying to feel my body under my clothes, so I kicked him very hard. I warned him to back off or else I would shout.
The next day, when I was combing my hair, he grabbed my breasts from behind and kissed my neck and back. I was bewildered. I stayed quiet because I was afraid my mom would not believe me and our family would fall apart. I was relieved when my parents came back.
Two months later, my aunt invited us to her place. My mother went out with my aunt to shop, and my father was busy with some work. I was on the computer with my back to the door, my aunt’s husbad came in and locked the door. Before I could think of an escape, he made me lie on the couch and kissed my lips. He French kissed me and touched every part of my body. I shouted, but nobody seemed to hear. I was saved when the doorbell suddenly rang. I felt like telling my mom about it, but just couldn’t. I told a trusted cousin about it, and the problem stopped.
When I was 15, I had a boyfriend. I was falling for him and thought I could trust him. One day, we had gone on a drive when he turned into a deserted street and stopped the car. I asked him what was wrong, and he started to kiss me. I kissed him back. He went further and took off my shirt. I was shocked and asked him to stop, but he got on top of me, unbuttoned both of our pants, and stuck out his penis. I told him I was on my period, and I begged him not to do it. He got off me.
I punched him and shouted for help, but no one listened. He asked me to blow him. I didn’t know what that meant. He grabbed me by the throat, and pushed his penis inside my mouth. I understood then and punched his chest. He became violent, and he started to choke me. I knew I had to cooperate to stay safe. I begged him to stop. When I didn’t give in, he made me rub and stroke his penis. Finally he ejaculated, then he drove me home, without saying a word.
I came back home only to discover my mom had read my diary and knew I was with my boyfriend instead of at my friend’s house. I was shattered. My parents are completely against teenagers dating, so my mom acted like I had betrayed her. I didn’t have the courage then to tell her what had happened.
I opened my phone to call up my best friend, but discovered I had a text from her that said she was diagnosed with blood cancer. I was breaking down.
After ignoring his calls, I finally decided I needed to meet with my boyfriend to tell him I was done. But when we met, he took me to a corner, and without wasting any time, he shoved his finger up my vagina. I was shocked, and I ran back home.
The next day, my dog died.
I was falling into a pit, and it seemed impossible to come out. With no one to talk to about this, I decided to just shove it in some corner of my heart. That resulted in bad health and emotional problems.
This September, I finally contacted a helpline and went to a counselor who changed my life. I told my parents about everything. They listened and stood by me, without blaming me. I am making a new start with the help of my loved ones.
by Band Back Together | Oct 7, 2014 | Guilt, Happiness, How To Cope With A Suicide, Self Loathing, Suicide, Teen Suicide |
I’m trying so hard to not kill myself. It used to be the thing keeping me from suicide was my family, but lately, it seems like they don’t even care.
I wasn’t even supposed to be born. I hate that my mom didn’t get rid of me. I shouldn’t be alive, and I hate being alive.
I’m suffering everyday of my life. This isn’t how life should be. What makes it worse is I’m 16. I’m a junior in high school.
THIS ISN’T HOW IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE.
What happened to high school being the best years of our lives? These have been my worst. I just want to be happy. But I have serious doubts about that happening.
How all these amazing people survived, I don’t know. They’re lucky. They have a reason to live, I guess. I don’t. I’m literally worthless. I have ruined everyone’s lives around me. I just want to die…
by Band Back Together | Sep 19, 2014 | Happiness, How To Cope With A Suicide, How To Deal With A Self-Destructive Friend, How To Help A Loved One Who Self-Injures, Self Injury, Self-Destructive Behavior, Suicide, Teen Sexuality |
Dear me.
I see you, you know. You may think no one really sees you, but I do. I promise. I see all of the things you try to hide. I see your scars. I see it all. You are hurting. So, so much. I know, I get it. But you need to stop hurting yourself. Stop the cutting, stop the drinking, and stop all of the meaningless sex. It is not okay to try and drown your feelings in the bottom of a bottle and it is not okay to cut yourself just to feel alive. I know you want to be numb and I understand, but sex isn’t supposed to leave you numb. It is a beautiful thing, and you will understand what I mean later in life.
Contrary to what you may believe, you are NOT alone. You are loved. People care! Stop drowning yourself in alcohol, stop going to school drunk. Stop taking handfulls of pills. Just STOP!
You are pushing your closest friends away. They don’t want to watch you slowly self destruct anymore.
You are about to make the biggest and greatest mistake in all of your life. It’s dangerous and damn near-deadly, but I won’t stop you. You need this, you’ll see why. Not right away, but you will. I promise.
This guy you’re with? He’s bad. Worse than any of the others. He is going to use, abuse, and destroy you. He will sell you out to push himself ahead in the blink of an eye. This isn’t love and he isn’t worth your tears. We can get through this. Together.
Someday, when you are older, you will thank me for not stopping you from making that mistake. I know you believe in fate, and I am pretty sure this is fate stepping in to make sure you don’t kill yourself (accidentally or on purpose). This is your rock bottom.
I promise you, you will find happiness someday. When you least expect it, it will come.
I promise you, there is a lot of work to be done, so start now!
I promise you, things will stop hurting soon.
I promise you, you are not alone. Ever.
Love always,
Me
