a life stolen

he didn't love me
i was a possession
he stole my life, my freedom (physical, emotional and psychological)
he robbed me of love i should have had, should have felt
he made everything that should have been beautiful into something ugly

i am out now, but the damage is so severe it will take a very long time to repair it even to the point where i will be able to give and receive love.
i don't even know wot a healthy relationship looks like... friendships, family...
i don't know how to be
i could write down how they are, but to transfer that to an emotional level....
i just am not able to do that.
my emotions don't match the situations.

i see people who love each other
and it hurts so bad
because i never had that
and because it will be a long time until i am healthy enough to even consider it.

i think somewhere below the fear is anger at wot was stolen from me...
but the fear is still so much more
or maybe i just don't recognize the emotion for wot it is.
not being allowed to show any emotions for so long, or having to fake something different...
now the wrong ones come out, and i don't know how to fix it.
prickly skin, stomach doing flip flops...

why do i do that?

i still believe i'm not worth it.

so i push people away.

i get so scared when i start to care for someone, to think of them as a friend (even tho i am still not sure wot that is).

the tapes start playing in my head...
"why would they want you for a friend, you have nothing to offer."
"they must be tired of you tagging along and hanging around by now."
"why would anyone want someone like you for a friend?"
"they are just gonna dump you at the first chance they get."
and it goes on and on...

and my brain plays these tapes.. and then i follow thru with actions to push people away.

oh sure, some stick around for a while... but i manage to drive them off eventually.

seems the more i want someone to stick around, the more scared i am that they really are just looking for a reason to leave... so i give them reasons.

i want to skip to the end, i want to believe i am worth it.

hurts to my bones

sometimes, i hurt to my bones. not from a physical ailment at these times...
i ache for wot i have never had. the arms of someone who truly loves me encircling me.
so much was stolen, so many years, my hope, my trust, me.
but times like this i only sit and hope for the day when i have love. when a man loves me, the way it should be... all ways and always.
i can't even explain how deep the hurt is. it was easier when i was numb. when i didn't feel anything.
easier, not better.
just waiting for one of us to die, not caring which one it was, me or him. because there was no hope.
and then the night i got out, when i was really planning on dying. and then i wanted to live... but i still didn't have hope. i waited for him to come and kill me.
then i started to wake up, out of the emotional coma... i don't know how to have emotions, they come out all crooked and bent.
i am terrified to be happy.. because if i cared about something, anything, or started to get happy, it got taken away, broken, crushed, stomped down, extinguished. so if i start to feel happiness, i panic, it is overwhelming.
so to not feel... was easier, not better.
thats why to have hope... for me... is a wow... cause as i think it.. and especially as i type it, even tho no one will read this... is terrifying.


Hope is the thing with feathers 
That perches in the soul, 
And sings the tune without the words, 
And never stops at all
- emily dickinson

wots up with that?

people must think i am totally maladjusted sometimes. i ask honest questions about friends, emotions... how to "be"... wot is a normal response ... 
i used to be so good at faking it. still am i guess, cause people think i am ok... i think... 
but i don't know how to be natural, to respond or react, most of the time i "act", cause if i feel like someone is getting too close, or they are giving me that look that tells me wot i am saying is not quite "normal" i shut it down... like i used to.. the "every thing is fine" act... make sure no one asks questions.. let them feel comfortable and think i am ok, so they don't worry or get too curious.
the thing is, i can't connect the act with feelings... i can't act and go "ok, this is how this feels, so this is how it should feel to be normal."  because no feelings are attached to it. it's not happy, it's not sad, it's not anything.
i am so engaged in the act, in making sure there are no cracks in the shell, in making sure i have the "right" expression on my face, that i am making enough eye contact (this is sooo hard for me), that i am answering any comments or questions with the exact "right" answer. and so many other things going on inside, mostly anxiety and panic, i don't have time to "feel" anything.
ughhh, i can't even explain it to myself... just trying to put words to it is ridiculous... falls so short of explaining all the things going on in my head that i have to deal with as i am trying to interact with people.
it's terrifying
i heard someone who had gone thru a traumatic experience say, 'i never knew wot it was like to be afraid."
i thought about that... i have thought about it since i heard it... for me....
i don't remember wot it is like to not be afraid.
i am in a constant state of terror.
some moments worse than others, but all the time, every day.
always.. my stomach is flip flopping, my skin feels prickly, i have to make myself take deep breaths... and that is during the not worse times.
in the worse times, i can't think... it is just terror... thru my whole body and mind.
if i hear or witness conflict, fighting, someone yelling at someone else.
if someone comes around a corner.
if someone speaks suddenly
if i hear a door slam
hear a tone of voice
smell something
see a look on a face
hear a helicopter
forget to do something (ha! that is an all day every day thing)
i started a list once, it covered two columns over half a page of notebook paper, college ruled, and that's just wot i thought of off the top of my head, and every day it seems, something else happens that i didn't realize was a trigger... its exhausting.
so many things... every day

emotional junk mail raiding my inbox

i have a few really amazing friends.
they hang in there with me.
but even tho they understand where my emotional garbage is coming from, they can't understand when i act how i do, and i know it throws them when it happens.
their reactions are unique to the individual.
one just acts like it's not happening.
another thinks i am upset with them (even tho wot i am feeling is panic, fear, terror).
because, in order to survive, i was not able to show true emotions (i had to put forth the ones that i knew were needed for that moment), i now have the wrong "emotions" attached to the wrong feelings that are inside.
most times, i don't know wot it is i am feeling.
i know people are like "what? how can you not, its just.. feelings, emotions... "
i dunno... maybe they don't think that. but i know that when i feel something inside, almost every single person i deal with thinks i am feeling some other way by my words, actions, facial expression, etc.  even those who know me best.
when i look at one of those "how are you feeling" pages, with the different faces... most of the time i am not able to pick them. it confuses me. i sit there trying to match wot is inside me to wot i see. i wasn't supposed to look like wot i felt inside. it was too dangerous.
if i am around people who don't really know me, like when i go out to the shops or appointments, i can put on the "act"... i did it for so many years, i am very good at it...
don't make too much eye contact. respond. smile at the right time. say things that don't elicit more conversation, and certainly don't prompt any questions.
be invisible.
some days i can't pull it off tho. and lately, well, it seems like the harder i am trying to change the thinking in my brain (cognitive therapy), the worse i am at keeping that mask on.
my dv advocate, and the psychologist i used to see, and the one i see now (cause i had to move), say that even if my abuser died today, i still will have the fears, the brainwashing, the distorted thoughts... they aren't going to just poof because he isn't alive and trying to find me to kill me anymore... it's going to take time, and work, to keep getting better.
and so i keep working at it, and keep praying.
and hoping i don't destroy the friendships i am building now.  and maybe someday, i will be healthy enough to think about having a relationship with someone. but, that is in the future... for now... i just gotta do today.

random.... yeah, that's me pretty much.... still workin on who i am.
from now on, i fill the page, i choose.
still tryin to wrap my mind around that concept.
someone recently told me, it's like being a broken statue... and as you pick up each piece, you can look at it and decide... "do i like that piece of me? do i want it to be a part of me from now on?"
but how do you choose, when you have never been allowed to make a choice? how do you switch off the fear of retribution if you make the "wrong" choice?
creating new neuropath ways... learning that not everything is dangerous... gonna take time, but i will keep working at it cause i want things to change, i want to be happy. i want to not be afraid all the time, every day.
trying to explain the feelings to someone is hard, because if they have never experienced it, they have no way to understand... it's not like other stuff, it's not like... oh i cut my finger and it hurt like this... how do you explain that seeing a coffee cup sitting on a counter sends you into immediate terror... or why you freak out completely when someone breaks a rule... or why you stop at a signal far enough behind someone so that you can get your car out, never driving in a center lane, and always checking the curbs to make sure if your car could get over it?
and that's just the very itsy bitsy tippy top of the tip of the iceburg... so much damage.
but with time, i know it will get better. God preserved me. God kept me alive. He has a purpose in my life, and i am gonna do my part so He can fulfill that purpose.