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multipixie9 · 09:05 PM

i want to do something dnagerous. it is so scary to me. i do not matter. i am hurt, i am ashamed, i am not respected, she ripped me up though i gave her all the support i could muster. hours of emailing and yet it is never enough. i'm soo dead, blank, inhuman, ghosty. invisible, meaningless....

i am 55. since i was 9, i knew my life was over, ruined. at 18 i looked for a solution to the despair inside and eventually i encountered God and became a Christian. it was first thing that i experienced that was positive. i did not know i was mpd/did, ptsd, depressive, had over a decade of fierce and frequent abuse of every kind.

i've tried to become healthy and staunchly positive and every time i get up someone or something knocks me down. i am so sick of the pain and shame of that. i wish i could finally feel genuinely better and stay that way. i just don't know how to do this and i don't know what to say. there are no words genuinely vivid enough to convey the depth of hurt and the breadth of rage and the length of of isolated lonliness that torture me tonight. no one i.r.l. knows how i really feel. very few would really care how i feel if they did actually look into my eyes and see what is there.

from before i could walk and until i was at least 25 years old there was physical, emotional, sexual and /or satanic ritual abuse and spiritual abuse. i could write a horror story and it would be true - but the way i coped with the abuse was dissociating from it. the salvation of my childhood destroyed the continuity of my life in adulthood. every direction i look i am alone. i am a loner though i was born highly social. i hold many of my words back when i was born a chatterbox who spoke early and had a precocious vocabulary. all the things that were special about me as a small child were defiled, distorted, degraded or destroyed by the after-effects of watching babies tortured and murdered and having my own innocence murdered day by day by family members who worshipped with blood and violence.

i want to scream loudly and demand someone listen to me, demand someone acknowledge my agony, beg for someone to show me how to live a life that doesn't wring my heart daily.

THERE ARE SOME HERE WHO DID REACH OUT, OPENLY OFFERING KINDNESS. PLEASE KNOW I AM GRATEFUL FOR EVERY GIFT OF KINDNESS SINCERELY OFFERED. WHY IS IT THAT THE UNKINDNESS SEEMS MORE POWERFUL TO DEVESTATE ME THAN THE KINDNESS IS TO ELEVATE ME FROM MY UGLY PAST??????

I AM NOT SUICIDAL. I AM NOT GOING TO SELF-INJURE. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I AM GOING TO DO BUT MOURN ONCE AGAIN THE UNENDING PAIN THAT IS THE LARGEST PORTION OF MY LIFE. EVEN MY FAITH HAS NOT BEEN ENOUGH TO BANISH THE CRUEL ABUSE THAT HAUNTS ME.

IT HURTS SO BAD. MY INABILITY TO DESCRIBE WHAT IS TORTURING ME IS JUST ONE MORE TURN OF THE SCREWS THAT DRILL INTO MY MIND. IF I COULD ONLY GENUINELY FORGET INSTEAD OF DISSOCIATE. IT HAS BEEN 30 YEARS SINCE THE LAST OVERT RAPE OR SATANIC RITUAL, WHEN WILL I EVER BE ABLE TO GET PAST IT AND NOT HAVE IT TRIP ME UP IN MY CURRENT LIFE? WILL I EVER WALK WITHOUT MY PAST MAKING ME LIMP AND WILL I EVER LIVE WITHOUT MY SPOUSE'S DISBELIEF POURING SALT INTO THE NEVER QUITE HEALED WOUNDS OF WHAT THEY DID TO ME.

DAMNED FROM BEFORE, TORTURED EVERMORE TIL I 'M GIVEN THE GIFT OF RIGHTEOUS DEATH.

TORTURED PIXIES