I was abused by multiple people. The abuse started at home and I carry it everywhere. I can smell it now, and so can you. It's in my smile, my laugh, my tears, and the way I hide. I was abused and I have become the abuser. I'm scared to talk about it, I thought I was over it. I used to lash out and tell people the terrible things that were done to me with complete disregard for how they might feel, as if I was stabbing them with my pain. I still do this. Comedy helped me to see how much power I had abused, and how much I had abused myself. I still don't completely understand the way I behave, I feel that my personality is made of walls. I feel I'm healthier now but often I'm paralyzed by fear and doubt. The people in my life are carefully selected. I run from intimacy and the people who know me have never met me. They don't know that I don't like being in big crowds, that I have night terrors, that I don't like going to bars (unless I'm telling jokes in them), they don't know that I'm sick. I will do almost anything to make my friends and family feel comfortable, until I get tired and cut them out, or disappear. I have never felt safe. Not one day. I have never felt loved. I can't see myself as beautiful because of the ugly things that were done to me, and the ugly way I reacted. How could I be beautiful, I'm full of rage and I reek of victim. I love myself more than I ever have and that is why I'm sharing, I think, but I don't trust you, any of you and I never have. Don't get me wrong I trust certain people with certain things but when it comes to sharing my experiences privately most people tell me what to do without considering my situation. They give me bad and selfish advice, advice that makes them feel better and if I don't follow their advice I'm not trying hard enough to change. It boils down to fault and as an adult, the fault is mine. I choose to stay angry, I choose to isolate, I choose to attract narcissists and comparable abusers. I chose this. But when I chose this there was no choice, when this started I had no where else to go, I was a child. I'm still a child. A very scared child. When I read about abuse, attend meetings or find some list defining the traits of an abused woman, I can't do anything but cry. I was abused emotionally, physically and sexually. When I tried to get away from my abusers I was told I was crazy, I was sent to psychiatrists, not for my own health but to regulate my emotions for everyone else, including the abuser. I smoke pot for this reason, no one abuses the sedated? I've been punished for my intensity and my inherent desire to express myself. I was told that this crazy/angry person was who I was and that I had attracted the abuse. I was responsible. But as a women surrounded by women and men who have been abused, were we all asking for it? No. But we believed them when they told us we were crazy. We believed them when they told us they would kill our families if we left them. Sometimes we believed them because they were the only people who looked out for us, because we had to, because we were isolated. I still don't have real relationships and often I'm so sick I want to die. I'm sick of being angry but I can't have the conversations I want to have, I will never get resolution, there will be no apology. And here I feel stuck. I have to leave but I don't know where to go and even if I leave, I'll still smell like this, I will continue to attract abusers because I don't know what normal behavior is. I don't know what to do. I want to scream, I'm sick of screaming. The nightmares don't stop and I claim to be happy because I'm alone, when I'm alone no one can't hurt me.
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Alyssa WesterlundI love it when it rains. Archives
March 2016
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