[darkpurplesecrets]

TRIGGERING.....please don't laugh, please......this is raw and though I float, it is from my heart......a real fear......I am trying to stay connected, even if it is a dream, I am trying to hold on with all I have.....I keep trying to stay connected..................................................................trying to stay just in front of the flaming fire ball raging behind me................

I am afraid to post here and don't normally as my fear and uncertainty pulls me into a silent place, even in my real life, I feel myself now pulled once again into silence. Letting others in is getting harder and harder to do. Seems I can say something but that is as far it I can get before feeling this pull within and terror from others of anyone getting too close. So I feel I am both risking and pushing each word to this screen.

I don't know if anyone will understand or even care, but I am so afraid to get old. How does one grow up when one never felt like a child except through terror and fear? I feel like I am going to be engulfed in this fire ball that is gaining speed behind me. That I am going to die engulfed in this fireball of life that I cannot get to or maybe won't go to. It terrifies me that I will never be able to get to the little girl that is so hurt and lost, that I don't know and am afraid to know where she is, if she even is and did not die a long time ago.

But still the fire ball has a lot of little's and others all engulfed within, and a terrifying feeling they are smoldering, it is too hot as the flames can be seen----there is no other words to explain what is coming, it just is. The fire ball is very real to me, burning, and I sometimes can see these arms, sometimes faces rolling behind me faster and faster, unending silent screams and cries in pitches of torture and almost death like, escape this fire ball that sometimes comes in waves as though a storm is brewing out at sea pushing the screams and cries in and out, at times hitting me yet pulling back as fast.

Familiar yet unfamiliar, known yet at times unknown. And the voices though silent to the world screams and beckon me but I am too terrified to look back, through an invisible face, for too long. It is just gaining ground and coming. I feel like I am there but gone, a white dress without a face, but there none the less.

Sometimes my fear of dying from growing old hits me but sometimes I fear my death will come from within through those set up to do this. But I am so afraid, I was never a child, as memories remembered reveal, except through flashes and flickers of my own memories at times show themselves, and memories that have come forth from others within.

Childhood was so terrifying that I don't remember being a child except through hiding within the walls that surrounded me, silent cries never heard outside of myself, floating high above that body there being abused, flying out to the moon with Christoper countless nights, flying with the night children up into the trees and back, isolation from the world locked within--I just cannot put anything more. My own fear right now is stopping me.

I feel as though I am reaching down once again typing as black on this white screen is filling it and I am not attached and can't be. These very words scare me, fill me with this sense of running and even of death. How does one grow old when one was never young except through a terror most of the world does not know, will never know or be able to understand? When death was real and encircled one and childhood never really existed in our world.

Playing was not the play it seems most children play, obedience a must, neatness was above all else, questions non-existent, emotions and feelings pulled into safety as they were not allowed, and a little girl turned into a woman much, much too early, to an thing----just an object that never knew or felt wanted, that did and acted as instructed, that never knew life the way it is told it should have been, and even today still reacts, responds, and often feels punished or laughed at all over again or still. Love only existed as attention equaled pain, pain equaled sex, sex equaled obedience, obedience equaled love. (or many other words could replace sex, words I cannot put down, that only then would eventually then equal love).

Abuse was real and was life, even as we grew. We were old without a childhood, we were never allow to be a real child, not a child to what children are to be or to what we see now. We are so lost to what children are now, even to our own children--we just knew they could never be treated like us, never know what we knew---we knew that somehow within. Just never....... And love.....maybe our love shown was not what love was supposed to be, but we tried. But we just had to have them (children), somehow to bring them back, the ones lost. Even though we knew the children could not or would not be the others, somehow it was a life, a life that had to live.

When they put those babies in my/our arms---I/we just knew we never wanted them to hurt, to feel like a thing or an object, to feel wanted, to be everything they could possibly be that was good........if that was love, then they were loved by me/us. And although I cannot remember a lot of their childhood, it does at times come in pieces or flashes. At some times I can remember it more, especially as they got older and could do more for themselves.

As babies, I could never give them a bath at first and still struggled with that when I did, changing them was really hard, as they got ready to be potty trained, I never could as it terrified me and I had help with that, and never hit them or whip them but used time out instead. They were spoiled, made sure they had everything. And I always told them I loved them, they were beautiful, and that they could do and be anything they wanted. Not like me always put down and made to feel like a failure. That was our love, not anything like the love we knew. Nothing at all. I/we just knew they could never know that kind of love.

(And in using we in writing this, it is because often I didn't know others were there and doing what I could not do, not until many years later, and still now learning about those that stepped forward I didn't know or have any connection too or know existed, sometimes still even now. And as I write this from above, the question in going forward, the question of who I really am is real and I am not really sure. Am I the core little one that is some part of her that didn't fully die, grew to now, or am I just another part that has stepped forward to function the most except when others still now appear without knowledge?)

But now me, the one existing now, knowing most times I am here or at least more now than before, semi-safe now from them if I and others that know to keep us all as safe as possible do what we can to keep safety in place, knowing at any time the worst could come if they wanted it to, and if the ones inside don't do what seems to echo within, "to end us," don't take over and do what they were programmed to do.

Am I the real one that started or just another part now trying to live in this world, functioning in this life through what I have come to learn, disappearing or floating high when times like this feels too exposing and raw, too terrifying to say yet wanting so much to connect to someone--somewhere that I am not alone or still there. Am I living now out of a dream, that very dream of a child that someone would know we existed, someone would know we were here, someone would care, and somehow that love word comes and wants to be known so bad. There has to be more to that word, we beg there is.

Are we going to awake and all this be just a vapor that vanishes within the nightmare we are living out from our childhood, one we all just wanted to escape? Did that one that started die back there in that childhood not fully connected or even a part of her, a childhood not even sure somewhere it is wanted to be connected to, and us all running, begging the dream to take us away, wanting so bad to be somewhere else, just somewhere else?

Please tell us we are somewhere else, we all want to know for sure. Please don't laugh at us, don't laugh at me, please just don't. Even if no one understands or believes us, please just don't laugh at us. They did that, please just don't be a part of them. Please, I beg you. Knowing they will see and read this, knowing that they will copy it and send it out, making it hard to post this but wanting to somewhere, just somewhere.

And to our abusers that will do that, go ahead. We know you are here, either physically or as a visitor, and we know you already know everything. Would you like us to copy it and send it to you to save you the trouble? It is no secret......we know.....

Yes, I am afraid to grow up, that I am going to die before living, before getting out or rescuing those within the fire ball racing towards me. I look back and see it, it is as real as the black on this white screen. And no matter what has been said before this is real right now. Fall is coming, it is felt, and it is breathed. And yes, we are running from that, and the fire ball is racing towards me.

Maybe that makes me the real child from it all, but I feel life is going to engulf me, before I grow old. Before I ever know for sure. And I never got to be young to know how to be old. And maybe some are laughing, don't understand, don't care to. But for me this is really hitting me with a fear I have not felt or gone through before.

Sometimes in all this we write, we hope somehow that the writing is real and somehow will let someone know we were here if somehow we are not. We write a thank you to even the dream, for letting us live and be somewhere else, and maybe that sounds stupid, but where the dreams always came was not stupid, imagined, or safe.

Maybe this comes from remembering writing in the air at times because back then writing it on paper was not safe, it was always found and either taken and destroyed; ripped up in front of us and we were punished; and even later taken from our home when we didn't know----hidden in an attic as evil and of the devil. So this does not seem so stupid to me/us. We all want to know, all of us.

And I need our friend, but am so very afraid to reach. Somewhere I feel stupid, but I also feel so terrified. And she doesn't even know. I can't tell her. And what is even more terrifying is even if she knew, I still can't tell her, not the depth or the realness this feels as life to her is a known reality, a reality I/we are still trying hard to find and grasp a hold of.

I don't want her to think I am crazy or losing my mind. I am not. I don't want her to walk away or leave. And I don't want anyone to think I am crazy or losing my mind. I am not. I am really trying hard to find answers, to find a way to feel I am not in a dream....that the world did not go on without me here. It is so hard to explain or even write.

I am not stupid, I really struggle with this, sometimes more than other times, and this is now one of those times. And I am too afraid this is not or would not be understood, and maybe it is not. Somewhere it is not connecting and a snowed screen within the running backwards computer is disconnecting any connection trying to be made or kept. Sh.........highlight..........clear...........



And as much as the masks go on to the world surrounding us, as much as the masks hide what is really going on within myself and others, and as much as the masks are getting so heavy to hold up as the coats painted to cover is weighing heavy from all the many days, years they have been put on, and as much as we try to hide, we are being as real and honest in this as we can.

And we, especially me, are so afraid that if the masks fall, the ugliness starring back at anyone will be too much, to much not only for others but for us, for me. The ugliness just waiting to show the world just how worthless and nothing I am. Just how pathetic and empty I really am. Just how marred and rejected I should be.

The ugliness screams though silently, for when it does expose itself, it will shatter me and all that I know. Will it awaken me from the dream, and death will surely be waiting for me there beneath the mask, the dream..........and where I am. I am simply and honestly really unsure and very terrified.........I really am unsure.............just please don't laugh....please..................

dps

*hugs* hoping you will accept that we know completely how you feel dont know as we have much else to offer as this time of year starts its slow arrival once again. ♥

[amandalouise]

Originally Posted by darkpurplesecrets

TRIGGERING.....please don't laugh, please......this is raw and though I float, it is from my heart......a real fear......I am trying to stay connected, even if it is a dream, I am trying to hold on with all I have.....I keep trying to stay connected..................................................................trying to stay just in front of the flaming fire ball raging behind me................

I am afraid to post here and don't normally as my fear and uncertainty pulls me into a silent place, even in my real life, I feel myself now pulled once again into silence. Letting others in is getting harder and harder to do. Seems I can say something but that is as far it I can get before feeling this pull within and terror from others of anyone getting too close. So I feel I am both risking and pushing each word to this screen.

I don't know if anyone will understand or even care, but I am so afraid to get old. How does one grow up when one never felt like a child except through terror and fear? I feel like I am going to be engulfed in this fire ball that is gaining speed behind me. That I am going to die engulfed in this fireball of life that I cannot get to or maybe won't go to. It terrifies me that I will never be able to get to the little girl that is so hurt and lost, that I don't know and am afraid to know where she is, if she even is and did not die a long time ago.

But still the fire ball has a lot of little's and others all engulfed within, and a terrifying feeling they are smoldering, it is too hot as the flames can be seen----there is no other words to explain what is coming, it just is. The fire ball is very real to me, burning, and I sometimes can see these arms, sometimes faces rolling behind me faster and faster, unending silent screams and cries in pitches of torture and almost death like, escape this fire ball that sometimes comes in waves as though a storm is brewing out at sea pushing the screams and cries in and out, at times hitting me yet pulling back as fast.

Familiar yet unfamiliar, known yet at times unknown. And the voices though silent to the world screams and beckon me but I am too terrified to look back, through an invisible face, for too long. It is just gaining ground and coming. I feel like I am there but gone, a white dress without a face, but there none the less.

Sometimes my fear of dying from growing old hits me but sometimes I fear my death will come from within through those set up to do this. But I am so afraid, I was never a child, as memories remembered reveal, except through flashes and flickers of my own memories at times show themselves, and memories that have come forth from others within.

Childhood was so terrifying that I don't remember being a child except through hiding within the walls that surrounded me, silent cries never heard outside of myself, floating high above that body there being abused, flying out to the moon with Christoper countless nights, flying with the night children up into the trees and back, isolation from the world locked within--I just cannot put anything more. My own fear right now is stopping me.

I feel as though I am reaching down once again typing as black on this white screen is filling it and I am not attached and can't be. These very words scare me, fill me with this sense of running and even of death. How does one grow old when one was never young except through a terror most of the world does not know, will never know or be able to understand? When death was real and encircled one and childhood never really existed in our world.

Playing was not the play it seems most children play, obedience a must, neatness was above all else, questions non-existent, emotions and feelings pulled into safety as they were not allowed, and a little girl turned into a woman much, much too early, to an thing----just an object that never knew or felt wanted, that did and acted as instructed, that never knew life the way it is told it should have been, and even today still reacts, responds, and often feels punished or laughed at all over again or still. Love only existed as attention equaled pain, pain equaled sex, sex equaled obedience, obedience equaled love. (or many other words could replace sex, words I cannot put down, that only then would eventually then equal love).

Abuse was real and was life, even as we grew. We were old without a childhood, we were never allow to be a real child, not a child to what children are to be or to what we see now. We are so lost to what children are now, even to our own children--we just knew they could never be treated like us, never know what we knew---we knew that somehow within. Just never....... And love.....maybe our love shown was not what love was supposed to be, but we tried. But we just had to have them (children), somehow to bring them back, the ones lost. Even though we knew the children could not or would not be the others, somehow it was a life, a life that had to live.

When they put those babies in my/our arms---I/we just knew we never wanted them to hurt, to feel like a thing or an object, to feel wanted, to be everything they could possibly be that was good........if that was love, then they were loved by me/us. And although I cannot remember a lot of their childhood, it does at times come in pieces or flashes. At some times I can remember it more, especially as they got older and could do more for themselves.

As babies, I could never give them a bath at first and still struggled with that when I did, changing them was really hard, as they got ready to be potty trained, I never could as it terrified me and I had help with that, and never hit them or whip them but used time out instead. They were spoiled, made sure they had everything. And I always told them I loved them, they were beautiful, and that they could do and be anything they wanted. Not like me always put down and made to feel like a failure. That was our love, not anything like the love we knew. Nothing at all. I/we just knew they could never know that kind of love.

(And in using we in writing this, it is because often I didn't know others were there and doing what I could not do, not until many years later, and still now learning about those that stepped forward I didn't know or have any connection too or know existed, sometimes still even now. And as I write this from above, the question in going forward, the question of who I really am is real and I am not really sure. Am I the core little one that is some part of her that didn't fully die, grew to now, or am I just another part that has stepped forward to function the most except when others still now appear without knowledge?)

But now me, the one existing now, knowing most times I am here or at least more now than before, semi-safe now from them if I and others that know to keep us all as safe as possible do what we can to keep safety in place, knowing at any time the worst could come if they wanted it to, and if the ones inside don't do what seems to echo within, "to end us," don't take over and do what they were programmed to do.

Am I the real one that started or just another part now trying to live in this world, functioning in this life through what I have come to learn, disappearing or floating high when times like this feels too exposing and raw, too terrifying to say yet wanting so much to connect to someone--somewhere that I am not alone or still there. Am I living now out of a dream, that very dream of a child that someone would know we existed, someone would know we were here, someone would care, and somehow that love word comes and wants to be known so bad. There has to be more to that word, we beg there is.

Are we going to awake and all this be just a vapor that vanishes within the nightmare we are living out from our childhood, one we all just wanted to escape? Did that one that started die back there in that childhood not fully connected or even a part of her, a childhood not even sure somewhere it is wanted to be connected to, and us all running, begging the dream to take us away, wanting so bad to be somewhere else, just somewhere else?

Please tell us we are somewhere else, we all want to know for sure. Please don't laugh at us, don't laugh at me, please just don't. Even if no one understands or believes us, please just don't laugh at us. They did that, please just don't be a part of them. Please, I beg you. Knowing they will see and read this, knowing that they will copy it and send it out, making it hard to post this but wanting to somewhere, just somewhere.

And to our abusers that will do that, go ahead. We know you are here, either physically or as a visitor, and we know you already know everything. Would you like us to copy it and send it to you to save you the trouble? It is no secret......we know.....

Yes, I am afraid to grow up, that I am going to die before living, before getting out or rescuing those within the fire ball racing towards me. I look back and see it, it is as real as the black on this white screen. And no matter what has been said before this is real right now. Fall is coming, it is felt, and it is breathed. And yes, we are running from that, and the fire ball is racing towards me.

Maybe that makes me the real child from it all, but I feel life is going to engulf me, before I grow old. Before I ever know for sure. And I never got to be young to know how to be old. And maybe some are laughing, don't understand, don't care to. But for me this is really hitting me with a fear I have not felt or gone through before.

Sometimes in all this we write, we hope somehow that the writing is real and somehow will let someone know we were here if somehow we are not. We write a thank you to even the dream, for letting us live and be somewhere else, and maybe that sounds stupid, but where the dreams always came was not stupid, imagined, or safe.

Maybe this comes from remembering writing in the air at times because back then writing it on paper was not safe, it was always found and either taken and destroyed; ripped up in front of us and we were punished; and even later taken from our home when we didn't know----hidden in an attic as evil and of the devil. So this does not seem so stupid to me/us. We all want to know, all of us.

And I need our friend, but am so very afraid to reach. Somewhere I feel stupid, but I also feel so terrified. And she doesn't even know. I can't tell her. And what is even more terrifying is even if she knew, I still can't tell her, not the depth or the realness this feels as life to her is a known reality, a reality I/we are still trying hard to find and grasp a hold of.

I don't want her to think I am crazy or losing my mind. I am not. I don't want her to walk away or leave. And I don't want anyone to think I am crazy or losing my mind. I am not. I am really trying hard to find answers, to find a way to feel I am not in a dream....that the world did not go on without me here. It is so hard to explain or even write.

I am not stupid, I really struggle with this, sometimes more than other times, and this is now one of those times. And I am too afraid this is not or would not be understood, and maybe it is not. Somewhere it is not connecting and a snowed screen within the running backwards computer is disconnecting any connection trying to be made or kept. Sh.........highlight..........clear...........



And as much as the masks go on to the world surrounding us, as much as the masks hide what is really going on within myself and others, and as much as the masks are getting so heavy to hold up as the coats painted to cover is weighing heavy from all the many days, years they have been put on, and as much as we try to hide, we are being as real and honest in this as we can.

And we, especially me, are so afraid that if the masks fall, the ugliness starring back at anyone will be too much, to much not only for others but for us, for me. The ugliness just waiting to show the world just how worthless and nothing I am. Just how pathetic and empty I really am. Just how marred and rejected I should be.

The ugliness screams though silently, for when it does expose itself, it will shatter me and all that I know. Will it awaken me from the dream, and death will surely be waiting for me there beneath the mask, the dream..........and where I am. I am simply and honestly really unsure and very terrified.........I really am unsure.............just please don't laugh....please..................

dps

You did a fantastic job expressing yoursef, not going to laugh. one thing that helps me when I feel like I didnt have a childhood is looking back on any cards, letters and photos. these are tangible reminders of times when I did do normal childhood activities, rather than always doing the adult stuff of caring for others, and adult activities.

Another thing that helps me to see my childhood times is reading my past posts. sometimes in my posts to others I detail parts of my life. so reading my past posts to others can help me to see all kinds of things, not just my child hood times...like change...life is all about changes, making changes progressing from one moment to the next, growing stronger.

change can be scary but by reading my past posts I can see that I made it through this or that type pf change so I will make it through the next one I encounter.

growing up is hard for anyone but you know what they say...you are only as old as yo feel. even though human beings do age/grow old a person can still be young in mind and physical activities... yesterday I went skateboarding with an 8 yr old and her mom. it was a birthday party. at first I thought Im too old to go to a skate boarding party. skate boarding is for children/teens at this party.. well Im standing around watching and talking with the adults and a child walked up to me and said Ill let you borrow my board if you what to try. my reply no Im too old. the child laughed and said no your not just try. then there were some children around me leading me to the paved area and I was soon standing on the skateboard with these children teaching me how to do this. it was fun and I plan on getting a skate board adapted to my physical limitations. (I have Multiple Sclerosis so my balance isnt so hot but it was fun playing like a child skateboarding.)

in my case a persons limitations on recapturing /doing things they didnt get to do in childhood is my own mind. when I come up to a challenge that I think I cant do that or I wish I had done that when I was a child, I instead challenge myself to get up and go do it now. theres nothing stopping me from having a "childhood" as and "adult" my wife sometimes thinks Im a bit nuts and childish, especially when I hit the playground down the street but she understands there are just those times when a person needs to push adult responsibilities/adult life aside and have some fun.

my suggestion pick something you think would be fun and childish and go give it a try. you might be surprised to find how it can chase away those "I didnt have a childhood blues" adults get from time to time. in some situations we even have a name for this "midlife crisis" when adults look back on their life and find something lacking or they missed out on a part of their life so they go out and do it as an adult.

[Can't Stop Crying]

Playing was not the play it seems most children play, obedience a must, neatness was above all else, questions non-existent, emotions and feelings pulled into safety as they were not allowed, and a little girl turned into a woman much, much too early, to an thing----just an object that never knew or felt wanted, that did and acted as instructed, that never knew life the way it is told it should have been, and even today still reacts, responds, and often feels punished or laughed at all over again or still. Love only existed as attention equaled pain, pain equaled sex, sex equaled obedience, obedience equaled love. (or many other words could replace sex, words I cannot put down, that only then would eventually then equal love).

I understand this, I know those feelings, I know the confusion. I am not laughing DPS - you are so honest in your posts - it touches my heart deeply. I want to help the wounded ones understand it wasn't their fault, they didn't deserve this, and they should have received real love - the healthy kind.

Just know that I am keeping you safely in my thoughts..... and I believe in you!

[darkpurplesecrets]

Thank you ((((invisible butterfly, amandalouise, Can't Stop Crying, and all who have read and left hugs)))) it really means more than you know. I wish I had things to look back on and things to remember happier times, but honestly as far as childhood goes, there is really nothing except a couple of things and just a few pictures that I know are me, or with my siblings.

But I have not been able to really connect to them or can for just moments, moments that sadly bring back such fear and terror surrounding all that was gone through or what was done to deserve them. Even looking at the few pictures I was able to get the eyes looking at me I don't know or are filled with a fear that still trembles within me.

I do have my little yellow rabbit, old and limp now that I used to hold, it was the rabbit I used to pray and ask God to please take me to heaven and my rabbit as we didn't want to live and was scared to death. But that is only a very dim memory that at times comes especially when I feel myself once again asking God to please take me to heaven. Yes, even now there are times this gets to be so much and so hard, that I just want it all to end and me to just end.

I loved that rabbit even though it was given and earned, as I now know, from one of my abusers, my mother. But it was mine no matter what it cost to have it or what part of me was the one to get it, and it came one Easter and I was around 7 or 8 I believe, but that time is so limited and like a vapor as I remember disappearing during this time of my life for over a year or so, but I do remember somehow that rabbit, but I cannot bring myself to step there just that I know it was mine. So I cannot hold it and in fact have put it away as it is not something that I can reach for. I guess just knowing it is still mine is all I can do.

My Chrissy doll my grandparents gave me Christmas when I was almost 9 is in my closet. I loved her and remember playing with her, making her clothes out of scraps of material my aunt had or at times toilet paper, fixing her hair making it long or short by the buttons on her. It was the last Christmas with them, the only Christmas present I remember from them and the only doll they ever got me that I know of.

It was the Christmas I came back to myself after losing time, a year or so I have come to know, and not knowing just months prior where I was or that I was older, had moved, or even where I lived when I came out of that basement at the little church that bright morning. But that is another part of my life I am still unsure about and is surrounded with a fear and a terror I struggle to even really open myself up to really knowing. The next several years were full of running for our lives, abuse I just cannot talk about or even really know details to, I just know it is there.

But it was the trying so hard to hold onto or even have anything that I really feel makes me honestly hide those two things as the fear of losing all my things kept happening through my stepfather who would destroy us kid's things or my mother would tear them apart so we could not have something that meant anything to us, to just leaving them when we would have to run for safety for our lives and they were gone when we returned.

Those two things for some reason were always what I would grab, and hide even then out of sight. Now I still hide them, even though they surround a fear and terror that seems to wrap itself around me and them, they mean something but hidden as though to hide something more. Not that I have to hide them now as I know in my head, but do out of somewhere deeper in my head. For safe keeping. I also have a barbie watch put away from that time but there is nothing else.

I did have a doll when I was 11 years old that I got from my Aunt when I had my tonsils out, a baby doll that was so beautiful, and had a pretty frilly dress, matching socks, and a bow in her hair. I also would grab her towards the end of my terror filled life with my stepfather from hell. It was when we made that final get away from my stepfather, who was the one that took mother to the Denver Psych Ward, and told her she would never see us kids again and was on his way home to kill us.

It was my 12th birthday, I was making my own cake, the police called to tell me to pack bags of clothes as my aunt and uncle was to come to get us, but it was one night I just shutter to remember, a time when life for me felt it was really going to end not once but twice, and it would have if my stepfather had not gotten drunk on his way home from Denver, (we lived in Lakewood at the time), and the police found him in his car at the side of the road passed out with a loaded gun on the seat.

He was on his way back to kill all of us and luckily my aunt and uncle came and the police there allowed us to go with them if we were gone before he came home. It was a night full of a terror and unending memories that surround it. I know I have been told it was God's hand that was working and that it was not supposed to be, I get that, but there is so much more to it and that haunts my mind silently that as a child still screams and remembers. But I lost that doll when I went to College, long story, but she was stolen by someone there and I lost everything I had.

But somehow one of the girls that went to that college, the girl that used to be my best friend there until the church destroyed that with lies and a lie detector test that was found to be not needed at all, but the damage to me was just too much and I through my fear and terror turned away. But she brought me a box of my things she knew was mine to the place I was hiding out at from the church as they were threatening me and following me, and my rabbit and Chrissy doll and watch was in that box. All now are put away and hard to hold or even bring out. I just somewhere feel this need to hide them so they will not be taken again.

The few pictures I have are of my sister(s) and me, but there is a sadness when I see them, a sadness of a time full of terror and full of evil. I hold onto them because it is all I have. We were young, but there are just a few, somehow saved and now I have them on a disk. I had two pictures of me at around 18 months old when I was in a baby contest at the hospital I was born in, in Topeka, I was told I won, but there is no memory there, and my son has the one. The other little picture I had I cannot seem to find.

There is one picture of me and my sisters one Christmas, but there is a sadness and fear filled eyes looking far away, that is really hard to look at, and stirs something deep that I cannot look at or even start to. I can't, and part of that is because in that picture there is a separation I feel from it, yet a memory at the same time.

The picture of my brother in his cast from the big coffee pot falling on him one of the night we had run, tears fill my eyes to remember. He was just little, it was before we moved to CO, but something happened that night that I feels my eyes fill with tears and I cannot hold it or look at it any more.

There are other pictures that I got after my father got custody, pictures that were never displayed on the wall, school pictures of me and my siblings, that were put in a family album never seen, pictures he was going to throw out because he didn't want them, they meant nothing to him, my stepmother didn't want them and was going throw them away so I took them.

The one she broke of my brother that did hang upstairs on the wall where one picture of each of us hung that was not seen by anyone else, I have them too. I will never forget when she broke that pictures, the night she wanted to hurt him, one out of the many nights of continuous interrogations of why we wanted to see our mother, that no one wanted us, that no one cared about us, that we were taken in by them because of this.

Hours we often would stand on the stair case as the yelling and blame was thrown at us. But this night my little brother was getting it the worse. He had had an accident when he went to bed, and he hid his underwear in his draw but she found it. She went livid, for hours, first at him then turning it to us all. My brother, his face, the sadness, the eyes that cried before and long after he was told to stop before getting more. I remember screaming leave him alone, and that is when she started in on us. This breaks my heart to even write, and I remember it all vividly.

We were not allowed to hug him, to say we loved him, to talk to him. He sat so many days for hours at his room door, playing by himself with just a few cars, and when one of us went up there, he would stop and stare, watching us as he was not allowed to get up and be a part of the family. Maybe I felt this so deep because I remember that same feeling, locked away never a part of, alone and isolated, never hearing the words I love you unless it was during the abuse to make it okay.

He would be allowed to come down for dinner, and when there was left over food, his plate would be filled as he would sit there and eat it all. Then his stomach would swell until he would go to the bathroom. I started to eat as much as I could so he would not have to. Tears in his eyes, I can still see, he was hurting and I felt his sadness clear to my soul.

He would often sit in the living room after dinner on the floor where everyone was, but was always told who told you you could be here, and he would say no one, and go back up stairs to sit at his door waiting, just waiting for anyone to be up there to have someone to say anything too. And I can remember at times my patience and my own fear was lashed out at him as though he was bothering me. But I really think it was my fear knowing what would happen to him and even us all if I was caught talking to him. Oh, this is hurting me, this is really hurting me to remember.

One little picture of all 6 of us kids together, the only one, most of my siblings small or just going into Kindergarten/1st grade and 3rd grade, and me in 7th grade, but such a sadness for the most part, and memories that take me somewhere in my head, often with the missing pieces, but connected to a time of great pain and sadness.

Pictures that show expressions of such sadness in the eyes, even though there may have been a smile showing. I know in my heart what and why, I know we were only tolerated because no one else wanted us or loved us, they took us in and well that is all I can say, as hell lived there too. Hell lived everywhere I was, maybe I was hell, the devil himself, that is what it feels like and I know that I was married to him at 5 years old, I made them do things, I was their link to evil.

And this is something I don't like to talk about, something I, myself, have held silent so so long, have told the memory through another part, but know now the truth that marrying me to the devil brought and gave them their power, gave them the permission in to what they did. OMG, it was me, I was the one. It was me.........all along it was me............................it was me.................

There was also two letters and cards from my aunt, that got taken away when they were found. But I cannot talk about it. I do understand amandalouise what you were say and I thank you, I really do. There are things now that are safe, things we carry with us or are sitting right there where we can hold or grab them, they are safe and came from a safe person, they mean everything and sometimes feels they are all we really have.

My angel stone is something very special as she had been lost several times and we could not find her but she showed up just at the perfect right time, the time when we needed her the most, out of the blue, I know she is special. As is raggety ann and the pillow cases we hold tight and dear. But these are not linked to my childhood, but are things that mean more than anyone knows.

They are our things that are always there and doesn't leave or forget us. They don't have connection back then, i pray. But childhood, I cannot even imagine what childhood should have or was supposed to be----I see children now, remember most at least of my own children's childhood, but not for me......it scares me too much. Some within have found it, been able to connect it, been able to be children, but not me......

There is more I wanted to answer to but right now I feel myself running, fast, I need out, I need out......it was me, I am to blame, I didn't get this connection or truth to them always telling me it was my fault, it was because of me they did things. Why I was so special, why I had to ask and give the permission and forgiveness before they abused me. This is all making sense in my head........

IT WAS ME, IT WAS BECAUSE OF ME, IT WAS MY FAULT, THIS IS WHAT I WAS BORN FOR, NOT OUT OF LOVE, NEVER, NEVER LOVED BUT FOR WHAT I WAS, OMG, IT WAS ME ALL ALONG, THIS MUST BE THE MISSING LINK I NEVER KNEW, IT IS ALL MY FAULT, I GAVE THEM PERMISSION, THEY WERE RIGHT, OMG,........

I'm sorry. I am so sorry to ever have bothered anyone, to ever have said anything. Love doesn't belong within or around me, no wonder my little can't get over this, know I understand, and I know and so does everyone else. Hell followed me, and must follow me still. No wonder churches don't feel okay, no wonder God scares me, no wonder I go back and forth with my own belief, my fears, and not knowing. No wonder I cannot really feel or truly connect to anyone. No wonder this never seemed to fit, because it is me that does not fit.

omg, it was me all along.....it was really me..................................the me I could not be or even connect to. the me so divided, so angry, so lost, so hurt, so confused..........it was me................i'm really so sorry......i'm just so sorry.........................

[Can't Stop Crying]

Sending peaceful, calming thoughts your way!

it wasnt you anymore than it was us....you need to start believing that. we were born for the same exact purposes and maybe even more than that...we are still discovering our story and it gets worse and worse....but we did not cause it and neither did you! take that in burn it in your mind..BELIEVE IT AND THROW OUT THE LIES THEY PROGRAMMED INTO US!!! *hugs*

[darkpurplesecrets]

Thank you (((all))).

I tried to write but I am too scared to let anyone in. I am screaming but no one can hear me. And I am just so afraid.....................

[Hunny]

Thinking of you.

[ChildlikeEmpress]

You are in my thoughts! Gentle hugs...

[Can't Stop Crying]

i am still here.....keeping you in my thoughts

[darkpurplesecrets]

As hard as I am trying to be in the here and now, as hard as I am trying to paint on that mask once again and be okay, I am not. The season is changing and with each minute so is my mind. The memories keep pushing at me from very deep, and at times I feel I am almost back in that time, back in the place I so could not be.

It feels I have fallen deep into a pit that has no end, and there is a big part of me that wishes I didn't know or remember, that the one that held this still held it secretly within and not now within the recesses of my own mind or memories. I know she is there, pushing at me still terrified, still remembering or is it my own mind pushing it at me from a depth I have never been.

The very place of the ceremony, the very place evil dwelt, came alive, and I was given over to that evil, that very place I was the permission of all that would follow and happen throughout my young life and beyond, to even now. My mind cannot handle what is taking place within nor can I seem to find words or strength to reach out other than these silent words appearing in black and white across this screen.

I am terrified. I am running deep within myself, silently away. I cannot run fast enough, cover myself fully enough, hide myself within the walls for I cannot seem to reach them. Flashes come and go, feelings rush in and out, and it feels like I am being engulfed, screaming leave me alone, no, and let this end. I cannot turn off the smells now hitting me from all directions nor can I escape where I am.

As much as I realize I have to go back to this place and face it in order for it to stop terrifying me, and in order to even take another step in healing, I am struggling and feeling very alone and afraid. To the depths of my soul I feel as though this separates me, alienates me, and makes me too much to love, understand, or even care about out a long ever belong truly anywhere except in the evil that surrounded me there. Not even God can. And though I can have faith for everyone else, faith seems to elude me or even connect to myself anywhere.

It feels as though an unbreakable, rusty chain surrounds my neck in an ever sinking place. My fear of the world, people, and even death are chained within me and many within there. Please don't laugh, please don't hate me, for my own hate and repulsion of myself is deep enough for everyone. The struggle of death, of me or of what has me there, is real and it has terrified me more than I have ever allowed anyone to know or see. Even myself.....

Will the struggle of what holds me there be my own death, my mind or myself? A child unable to get away and an adult that cannot find safety still or a way to allow anyone close to this place at least not as myself. This day is just disappearing, just as time disappeared then. My mind is struggling to hold onto good, to anyone close, to not push far away from even myself so I cannot feel it's depth or claws that grip with a never ending pain. I hear you are not there now, it is not happening now, but yet somewhere it is and no one can even see it.

I wish time would just stop, even for a minute, or that these next several days would leave my mind and memory, but neither will and they don't even care that I am not there in this day or this time. I shake inside as if I am freezing, I fight to seem as present as I can, and I feel myself failing. Darkness is falling even in the light of day. The night feels as pitch blackness where silent tears fall and endless screams exist. And the need for someone to know is not as great as this seeming need to disappear or just stop being.

I just want to breath. I just need to cry, but I am not allowed and I am too afraid. I just need to reach but touch hurts and is too fearful in this place. They say years have passed but here minutes feel like forever, time feels like it is swallowing you backwards, and no one safe exists, not here. No one. And the walls feel like they are moving outward, farther and farther away from my reach, and all I want to do is to disappear within them once again away from all that is taking place.

And I am afraid...............

You are not alone
Fear is the enemy.
It is the enemy we constantly fight.
Fear is caused by our inability to see things in proper light.

We will be afraid until we see things in truth; as they really are.
The truth is that all things are working out for good and everything will be alright soon.
Everything that has happened with us, is happening with us and will happen with us is orchestrated by a loving creative force so that we will consciously come to know Love and Truth. All our suffering will end and we will walk in eternal light and joy beyond our comprehension.
I speak the truth

[sabby]

I cannot imagine what it's like to be brought back in time within your mind to a place where nothing was safe and everything was feared and the memories are now being returned to you presently. My heart goes out to you dps.

I can see how hard it is to carry backwards what you have now for love and support and apply it to those times and those memories. I don't know if it's even possible. Maybe all you can do is follow through the memory with the one who has held it for so long and slowly help both of you to come back to the present where the good lies. Maybe in doing so, you will both find a level of peace, less fear and some comfort to hold onto. I do know that something like this will not and cannot happen overnight. It is a process one must go through and with any process, it takes time, patience and understanding.

May you know how much I care, that I am here for you and you don't have to hide anything from me. I have seen the dark and painful things that you go through and I have never turned away from you. I will not turn away now either. You may feel all alone at times, but I can assure you that you are not.

We met and became friends and then sisters for a reason. It was His plan and it's a good one (it wouldn't be anything else!). Lean into Him, lean on me and know that you are loved.

[Can't Stop Crying]

I saw this quote on peace and it made me think of you....during this horrific time....I am hoping to send you just a little bit of peace to hold on to. Keep holding on....we are here for you - all of us!

YOU ARE NOT ALONE!

[darkpurplesecrets]

Thank you (((all)))). I really mean that with all my heart.

I guess what I have always been told and what I have always known is I just need to get over it and forget it. I often feel others think that is all that it takes and that PTSD is just something that easy. But nothing is right or okay. Not right now. Just because yesterday has passed, does not make it just stop or no longer affect me. It does affect me and is in more of a sense and reality than anyone realizes. And I feel really alone; maybe because it feels like no one else seems to get that or sees that I am hurting; maybe because I have allow myself to think in this way. I am not sure, but either way it comes back on me no one else.

I just cannot seem to ask for help or let anyone know, my own fear steps in so many times and people no longer seem as who they were as my mind can no longer separate where I may have been to where I am. And when you have already said something then why say anything again. I guess that is another fault of my own, another known that just really took a hold of me a long time ago, but it is also my assumptions often times too that are so often wrong, and just because there are those that already know does not mean they remember.

I really do get that but sometimes I wish someone would just remember, because besides not being able to let anyone know, often I sink away and feel it does not really matter. So crying in silence and going through it all alone last night is just all I felt I could do or even deserved. And I did. Right or wrong I don’t know. I guess that is why I am so hard to understand or to continue to be there for. It is not easy being my friend, or caring as often times I find I set myself up and because there is so many within that also often react in the only way they know or in the only way at that time they feel, it doesn't make knowing me easy or even worth it.

I have heard and read that for many people with DID, friendships or even close relationships, often times do not last and it is no wonder. If I am as confused and left out of my own known selves, out a long those I have no connection with inside, and life itself, then how can anyone else try to figure it out and not walk away. As frustrated as I get at myself, I can only imagine how frustrating and hard it is for anyone else at all. And I don’t blame them, what I feel so bad about is that they try and tried with all they had, they wasted part of their life that they cannot get back, that is what hurts the most and part of why I am so afraid to allow myself to really get close to anyone or to let them in.

The saddest thing is, I don’t want to hurt anyone, but to know me is one big hurt after another. And somewhere through it all, I myself am hurt too over and over again. I am confused anymore as to anything being about me, so I push it away from myself and do not allow any longer feeling what I have been through is anything and I should just get over it as I have been told so many times. My confusion and not understanding things is often times what is so hard, even though I try. When someone says something about that to me, I am terrified to ever go there again, and I don’t.

I know I have a kind heart, a heart that would help and give anyone the shirt off my back, especially those I care about and love, at least as much as I could or until I have been hurt or burned enough times I cannot do it anymore. I don’t hurt anyone out of intent or malice, and when I do something for someone it comes from my heart. But truth is somewhere it happens, even in my best efforts to try to not let it, it always somehow does.
And I cannot seem to look at anyone but myself as being the one in the wrong.

I honestly never learned to be a child or learn what children learn. Fault was something I knew well, and not something that I feel ever leaves me. I became an adult, never really being a child, always responsible and always had to know without being told what was expected, even when I couldn't possibly know—there was no choice. I always was the one to make sure my siblings were okay and safe even as a little girl myself, there or there as another part of myself, but not me.

Somewhere we all knew how to do that and did; I never learned to know or trust myself and I can see clearly why often no one else can either. As I look back now, I can still or often for the first time feel the weight of the world that was on my shoulders, something I am starting to see my own siblings didn't have to know or experience, didn't have a clue about, they had me or some part of me to carry that for us all.

But the truth is, what others cannot know is not on them, but again on me. And sadly I often cannot tell anyone, for I myself am lost to so much, even still of myself. For that the sorry that I could possibly say just is not and never would be enough. There is no way to pay anyone back that has tried or is trying, they risk(ed) it all on someone that is too damaged to understand or able to hold onto what never was and so often makes no sense now.

Right now, I feel so much of that child, myself, that I wish someone could understand that even though I need to reach out, I can't. Even though I should, I can't. And no I am not asking anyone to read my mind, I know they cannot, but why can't anyone also understand that being where I am--so close and so much as that child, I am terrified, just as terrified as I was then. Just because someone may be there, doesn't mean I am.

I often don’t know how to reach out, and my own fears stop me, even Fear herself. Maybe more, because back then I don't think I felt anything but the fear and terror surrounding me, I didn't think in the terms of asking for anyone for I knew not to and I learned that probably before anything else, and to be honest, I didn't even know that it was possible or anything I could possibly do.

My world was never a world of safe, and my aunt, the only one I knew loved me, was not often there. That is why I left myself, why I could not be me, why I am just now getting it given back to me after all this time; why I am DID. And it is said it is because I am ready, but I am not sure—but ready or not I do not get to decide when a memory hits me or when I am back where it all took place, back where time does not mean anything but a clock that ticked.

I cannot put into words what is going on or how I feel. To be honest I don't know how. There are just screams within that do not make an outward sound. And even though there are tears now, they are often hard to allow anyone to see. The deep, uncontrollable emotions rarely are seen and when they make their presence they disappear as fast. Not often, but at times especially when it is one of these times, they (my tears) try and even know to hide.

I really feel that just as much as I feel like a child going through this, my own emotions and feelings are doing the same and are in a different place just as I am. And I am no longer connected to even myself, and I don't even know or realize this most of the time. But for some reason today this is very clear and known to me. And just as I don’t always know that, I also don’t always know when I have left myself and another has taken over—even after the moment has occurred.

I am gone into that place where utter fear has stepped up and taken over, and often I am no longer the one speaking or reacting, not in myself as I may have been just the moments before. And while no one else can possibly know this, neither do I (nor can I until it is too late). And I am lost to anything happening and honestly do not understand what someone else may have heard within the voice that is no longer myself. And while I would not deny something happened and take the fault, for that is truly where it lies anyway, it hurts more than anyone knows when I do finally come back to myself.

And I often feel this tug or pull within of even my feelings and emotions trying to get away, for that is just what they did then too and why for so long I had none, at least none I was going to know or get to. And why those inside knew to pull them inside into hiding so we would not lose them forever. I often have said I wished I would have heard "I love you," and "I care;" but I am not really sure I ever wished that back then, and I don't believe I knew to or even what that would have meant, out a long question it, as beyond the pain and abuse those very words brought, then they were nowhere in my thinking or even ability to.

But back then, the only love and care I knew, was all I had to hold onto, and I knew that could disappear at any given moment or time, and I needed something to hold onto then however bad or wrong it really was. And as a child, if love is pain and hurt, and it is what you knew, you believe that is the truth and you also believe it is that way for everyone else in the world. Why would you wonder anything else or think anything else?

There would be no reason, and even though there was something different about my aunt’s love, it wasn't around very often, so especially as a child it would seem so much different than anything I knew. There is so much encircling her that I just cannot bring myself to talk about, but I do know one thing, I miss her and loved and still love her more than she will ever know.

Maybe that is why even now; sometimes what I wish for and what I fear collide and fight with each other. Maybe that is why even now, I am afraid to believe and hold onto what I want so much. But I also believe that I cannot hold onto those things because they are constantly getting buried and covered with the lies and the abuse that seems to come and then come again. I can dig myself back to the surface to feel it bury me all over again. It feels I constantly am digging, constantly trying, but it just does not seem good enough and once again, I feel I am failing.

The fact that I am struggling to reach out seems to mean I don't need anyone or warrant anyone, but it is not true. I do. Just as much as anyone else does, even more than I myself want to admit or believe. I am not always as strong as people think I am. And I too feel hurt sometimes at what others do or say. I somewhere just wish others understood that reaching out often scares me and it sometimes feels as though if I don't then no one else does either. Or again, maybe they do and I just don’t even realize it, but I often feel alone in that and like no one cares. My feelings and emotions are wrong. And whether that is true or not, I right now really do not know or have the ability to figure it out. But it still hurts anyway.

As much as I am told this was not my fault, that I didn't do this to myself, I am struggling to believe that. It feels it is my fault, and it comes back at you in so many ways ringing true all over again. It feels emotions and feelings really were something that was to not be and to be feared. And I still do. It feels it is not okay to have either, and so I pushed them back all over again, and hide them so that no one really knows.

The truth I know I am responsible for even what I don't truly understand or know. Being DID is so hard, and it is not something I would ever wish on anyone. As much as it is often doubted by some, it is much more a truth I struggle to live with each day I breathe. And as hard as you try, and as much as you give in that effort, it can be taken away just as fast. You can feel you mean nothing all over again. For every step forward, it feels often you take at least three steps back. And the sad truth is, those three steps back can feel like forever when trying to find once again the strength and courage to take a step again.

I don’t know why or where this all has come from, and it is about no one but me. I am struggling and am really so afraid, yet trying to take one step out of this darkness that was my life, this darkness now taunting, terrifying, and holding me silent and captive again. And I am so very tired and hurting physically, so forgive me if I said anything wrong or out of line—it wasn’t my intent at all. My thoughts have been running just as I have now for days but words too have been too afraid to heard or known. So I’m sorry this is so long—I didn't think it would be when I started to write.

dps

[darkpurplesecrets]

Thanks Onward for the hug. I will go back into hiding and silent. I feel that is best for all. Just wanted to say I noticed your hug and it meant more than you could ever know. I don't know if you will see this or not but thank you.

[Fuzzybear]

(((((((( dps ))))))))

(I understand about hiding and being silent.. And PTSD )

(and I'm sorry I didn't reply to this before, I truly care about you dps although I hardly feel worthy even to reply )

[Can't Stop Crying]

[Silent_Tears_17]

I have read some - but honestly not all of your posts yet. I will come back to finish reading later, but I wanted to respond now.
I honestly cannot imagine any decent person who could read this and laugh. Your emotions are so honest and I can see that your fear is real. And that is completely understandable.
As I write, I honestly worry I will say the wrong thing. That I will say something that triggers or makes things worse. You note that no one will understand. And so few people will ever know the hell you went through. (Noting the use of hell as a place you were in and not who you are and what is connected to you.) But the emotions - many of us can relate to even if it is a much lesser extent.
I hear how hard you tried to protect your siblings. I hear how desperately you tried to be loved. I hear the strength you have had all these years. And I hear so much guilt, fear, and self-blame.
You also spoke about what love was and was supposed to be. For me - it is the peaceful moment when you hold a sleeping child you love. Their innocence, peace, and trust that is to me what love feels like. I don't describe it well. And I apologize for that. But that is the best I can do.
I don't know that you or anyone will ever make sense of the horrors you faced. I don't know that there is an explanation why people were so horrible and acted so cruelly or why so many of the were placed in your life. You noted that hell followed you. And indeed it did. But it was not you. It could not have been. I know you may not believe me, but I need to say it.
You speak about how lovingly you cared for your own children. How well you cared for them. You took care of your siblings the best you could. And you stood up for them and did your best to shield them. You put them first. And that, that is what love is. I don't know if anyone showed it to you. But you showed it over and over (and I know so little about you, but I know this).
Children can only know what they are taught. And they cannot be held responsible for most of the things they do acting as children, never mind being forced to act as an adult.
I honestly am amazed at your strength and compassion. And one day I hope you will be able to see how caring and strong you are and have always been.
I send hugs and the best of wishes.

being silent and hiding gives them the power....and you are so much better than that and them....

[Can't Stop Crying]

How are you doing dps?

[darkpurplesecrets]

Struggling and not feeling too well. Fall is difficult anyways but to add physical pain and problems makes it even more difficult. Feeling really quiet and withdrawn at least away from me, and struggling with talking. Having a hard time writing right now but wanted to at least answer. Thank you for asking. I will try to post more soon.

dps

[darkpurplesecrets]

Sometimes what I wish for and what I fear collide and fight with each other. Maybe that is why even now, I am afraid to believe and hold onto what I want so much. But I also believe that I cannot hold onto those things because they are constantly getting buried and covered with the lies and the abuse that seems to come and then come again. I can dig myself back to the surface to feel it bury me all over again. It feels I constantly am digging, constantly trying, but it just does not seem good enough and once again, I feel I am failing.

Right now this is more true than anyone knows. To separate out what I feel or believe is not possible. They and everything are colliding. The fight within my head and heart as to sorting all the lies, truth, and in-between things out is pulling me apart and fear of talking or telling is taking hold more and more. I just really do not know.

And when you don't know what you believe, what has been fear driven into you and what has been brainwashed, it makes it impossible to know and a big jumble of everything thrown into a cast iron pot ever mixing and ever bubbling, that has been for years and years. And I don't know. Fear mixes with thoughts mixes with lies mixes with truth.....and somewhere I am standing there watching it all go around and around, beginning to get more scared to say or feel anything at all.

Others may not understand or know what I am talking about, but my worlds are colliding, and all I want to do is disappear and escape it all. I don't know what to believe, and right now I cannot even figure out how to figure that out. I sometimes feel abuse just keep abusing over and over again because it can and because it is so deep seeded that it keeps sprouting up over and over again reminding me through others how wrong I am and how I am not right.

Maybe it is not important but it is important to me, important so much that I am shutting down out of fear I am doing it all wrong, or am I getting what I am to get from it all. And what that even is I have no idea myself. I only know what I know, and I cannot pretend to know more or do not even know how to . It is important that I get out not only what I fear but what was constantly drilled into my head over and over again. Until I do I fear that finding out what I believe myself is just fueling my already failing thoughts of myself. And I feel I am failing myself and everyone else.

And while I understand others are not going to understand or even get it, it is swirling around and around in my head non-stop and I feel dizzy as though I am looking up at a sky that is spinning and spinning with no intentions of stopping. Just as I feel the world is never going to stop to wait for me to catch up or find myself, and I cannot ask or expect it to, I am feeling I can no longer ask anyone to try to understand or stand by me. I have no right nor do I feel I do. I just wish I knew the words to say that would let anyone know that I am trying and that I even though my best efforts may frustrate or discourage, it is not my intention or what I am trying to do.

Maybe I should have just never reached out, never told anyone, never hoped at all. Maybe that little girls dreams should have just remained that, a little girls dreams. What they have done to me is more than I have any right to ask anyone to try to understand or to even hope for. If I ever truly allowed myself to feel what I sometimes feel is within me, I would lose my mind. But I stop myself from ever allowing anyone into that place, even myself. My only control I ever truly had was my silence. And I failed.

If it is feeling too much for me how much more it must be feeling for anyone else. And I am really so sorry with all my heart.

dps

[sabby]

Maybe I should have just never reached out, never told anyone, never hoped at all. Maybe that little girls dreams should have just remained that, a little girls dreams. What they have done to me is more than I have any right to ask anyone to try to understand or to even hope for. If I ever truly allowed myself to feel what I sometimes feel is within me, I would lose my mind. But I stop myself from ever allowing anyone into that place, even myself. My only control I ever truly had was my silence. And I failed.

If it is feeling too much for me how much more it must be feeling for anyone else. And I am really so sorry with all my heart.

First of all my friend, just like anyone else in this world, you have every right to reach out, to talk, to hope, to fear, to continue in this life. Going for one's dreams is something more people should do, in my line of thinking. While the journey to experiencing those dreams may be a difficult one to travel at times, I do believe you will find lots of positive things along the way to remember and hold onto as you can. If you never reached out, if you never spoke, you would not have those memories.

You did not fail my friend. The expectation of you to never speak of what happened to you was a more than any soul could have accomplished. That expectation came from those who harmed you, day in and day out. While I understand that you are used to having that expectation placed on you, it is not acceptable and I'm sorry that you are feeling that expectation strongly again.

Of course you are feeling very deeply about your situation. This happened to you, not to us, not to me. These are your experiences, your memories, your life, not mine, not anyone else's. No one can experience your feelings to the depth that you feel them but you my friend. I cannot possibly feel what you are feeling. I may be able to have some understanding of some things if I ever experienced a similar thing, but still, it's not quite the same. What I can have is empathy and compassion and love for you, those are the feelings that overtake me, not those horrible things that you feel and see.

I am here to sit with you, to hold your hand, to hand you a tissue to wipe your eyes, to listen to you, to hear you, to validate you but also to let you know that whatever happened in your life, cannot hurt me, not in the way you think it can. I am here, I am not stepping away. I will wait for as long as it takes until you find your footing and can start talking again. It will happen. I have faith. Even if you don't have faith, I have enough for both of us.