Memories Hidden In The Dark

These are my dark memories. Memories from the abuse, the trauma, the rape. I wrote them as they came into my mind, in no particular order. It’s not supposed to be coherent or make sense. It won’t make you think. It will make you feel.

Time.

Fear.

The door.

Crying.

Running.

You beg me to stop.

I turn my back.

Table flips over. Broken dishes. Food everywhere.

Fear.

Screams. A fist slams into the wall.

Stop. Please stop.

No. Not another drink.

Grab the bottle. You push me away.

Drunken stumbles.

I’m leaving.

“No. You’ll never leave.”

Run.

Running.

A dark night. No light in sight.

Arms around me. Hand over my mouth.

Muffled screams.

“Keep screaming. No one will hear you.”

Struggle.

Limp with fear.

Handcuffs. No.

Stop. Please stop.

Terror.

Let me go.

Slap. Sting.

“Oh stop whining.”

Pain. Insufferable pain.

Eyes closed. Darkness.

Block everything out.

Subdued whimpers.

You push me off. Freedom.

You pass out.

Retreat to the couch.

Tears.

Empty.

Darkness.

Time.

 

Utterly Empty, Hopelessly Alone

For those of you who appreciate my optimistic “this hurts but I’m going to be okay” posts, you probably won’t enjoy this one. Because right now I’m falling the fuck apart. I feel like the hole in my heart is just going to swallow me. Or this intense pain is going to crush me like a giant bolder. I’m hanging onto the edge of a pit of darkness right now, trying desperately not to succumb. I’m holding on so tight, but my grip is slipping. Just praying someone will take my hand, and pull me up,  but right now it seems as though everyone’s turned their backs and abandoned me.

D certainly has thrown in the towel. I guess he got what he wanted, and now I’m not worth his time. He was online all day and didn’t talk to me. Something that would not have happened before we saw each other and I slept with him. A, who I thought was one of my best friends, hasn’t answered my texts in over a week. She’s from Idaho so she’s there right now. Apparently, I’m not worth her time anymore. S isn’t capable of supporting anyone through anything serious. Not to mention, I couldn’t trust her with any information about my struggles unless I wanted everyone to know. Then my mom, who can clearly see that I’m hurting, decides to yell at me for seeing D instead of being supportive. Thank you mom. I know it was a fucking mistake. Please remind me. That will help. It’s like she wants to teach me a lesson. I’m pretty sure life has already taught the lesson. Not that she would know anything about heartbreak. My mom has never had her heart broken by a man (yeah I know, amazing). So how she thinks she can tell me I’m “not allowed to be depressed” is beyond me.

So now I turn to this blog, because it’s the only freaking thing I have. I feel more supported by anonymous readers then I do by the people in my own life. I’m blasting instrumental rock into my ears, wavering between going into an angry rage and breaking down and bawling. Neither of those is an option though. I’ve got these lovely internship applications to finish. It’s funny how even when you’re falling apart life rolls on without you. Don’t worry about me though. I’ll be fine. Well, I guess that depends on your definition of fine. I’m probably just going to sink further into numbness. Feels like the only way I can protect myself anymore.

Funny thing is when I hurt this much the desire to contact P comes back. I know this is a deplorable, disgusting idea. It’s not going to happen. But the desire is there, itching at the back of my mind. My mind which is craving the rock I used to lean on. Even though the rock was more like the Whomping Willow from Harry Potter. He was a support system, in a demented and twisted way. The sad thing is I’m pretty sure he would come if I called too. He’s only five minutes away. I won’t give in though. It’s just like I said earlier. I have to stand strongly on my own two feet. No matter how hard that might seem right now…

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

First off, I promise I won’t be keeping up this whole two post a day thing once school starts. But right now, I feel an overwhelming urge to write. And not write my essays for my internship applications. It’s funny how easily I can churn out 500 words on here, but if I’m asked to write about science or research I draw a blank. Oh well, on to the topic of this post…

Each year for New Years Eve my family goes out to dinner and then we see a movie. This year’s movie was The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. Now I’ve never read the book. If I had, I probably would have insisted on seeing War Horse. If you’ve seen the movie or read the book you’ll know what I’m talking about when I say the rape scene. That was rough for me. More than rough. I nearly had to leave the theater to go vomit. It was like watching my own experience on a gigantic screen…torturous. Not to mention the movie was dark and had a depressing ending.

My dad went out and bought the book. We didn’t completely understand the film so he wanted to read it to get all the details. I’m currently debating reading it. Part of me feels like it would be a really good book. The other part fears to venture into that dark world. Being the curious creature that I am, I will most likely end up reading it. I just hope it doesn’t negatively effect me. I might have to skip over the whole rape ordeal…

Still no word from D. It’s almost the longest period we haven’t talked since we starting speaking again. Needless to say I am quite confused. There’s a very large voice in my head telling me to send him angry text messages. Something along the lines of, “Thanks for fucking me and then disappearing. You of all people should know I deserve better.” I’m refraining from that though. I have learned that reacting to any situation with that much emotion usually does not end well. Right now I’m just trying to remain calm until we talk again (Don’t worry. I have no doubt we will talk again). What I’ll say when that time comes largely depends on what he says so I haven’t over analyzed that one too much.

It would be nice if I had other people to talk to about this. My brother listens, but he’s too young to really offer any advice. My friends/roommates would listen if I forced them to. It’s usually not worth it though. They let me talk about myself for about 5 minutes before they change the subject back to some trivial drama in their lives. Don’t get me wrong I love my friends, but sometimes they are pretty useless. Not to mention college girls are some of the most self centered beings on this Earth. For example, just today I was IMing my roommate S. She asked if I had heard from D, I told her no and then she continued to talk about the random guy she’s been dating over break who she doesn’t even like. I can’t say I was expecting a “How do you feel about that?” or “Are you okay?”, but it would have been nice. I’m just always the one in our group that’s okay. The rock everyone leans on. They just automatically assume I’m fine. That’s okay I suppose. I’d rather that then them worrying about me all the time. I could be more transparent about my emotions. However, I don’t really want to do that. Masking what I feel is a large part of how I protect myself from hurt. It works well, and I’m not ready to give it up yet.

Tormenting Realizations And The Music That Creates Them

Last night was painful. Very painful. Sadly, it’s not the most painful New Years I’ve ever had. That’s a story for another blog post though. I welcomed in 2008, 2009, 2010 and 2011 with P. And anytime before that I was too young to really understand love. This year was the first year I went into by myself. The thought was calming in a way. No one else to worry about. Just me. I prefer to worry about other people though. I can solve others’ problems easily, and I enjoy doing it. I’m not very good at handling my own pain.

I had a small glimmer of hope in my soul that D would text me and wish me a Happy New Year. Now that I think about it, it was dumb to even hope that. He was surely with his ex. If he wasn’t he would have already been talking to me. So of course midnight rolled around, and I’m alone. No texts from anybody. My brother seemed to sense my sorrow. We’re very, very close. He encouraged me to have a few more glasses of champagne, while he got high. Then we played Pokemon Stadium which is an old game for Nintendo 64 (I must confess I am a video game geek). His hilarity distracted me for a few hours. He’s younger than me and currently dealing with his girlfriend being madly in love with him. It certainly was interesting to hear the male perspective on high school love.

At 3 a.m. I finally got in bed. I had three glasses of champagne and I bit of wine in me so I was feeling fairly buzzed. And I was hurting. A lot. When I’m feeling broken and lost I usually turn to music to help me through. If I need a “sign” or something to tell me what to do, I press shuffle on my iPod and let the song speak to me. I suppose it’s my small belief in a supernatural. Last night, I did this. The song “Franklin” by Paramore came on. (Here’s a link to the song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XwpMxFOGW8c and lyrics. Also, if you ever wonder what I look like, Hayley Williams is a good representation.)  Basically, hearing that song broke me. I realized that all this obsession with D was just my heart trying to cover up the real pain. The pain of P. P and I have the same hometown. We met in high school. Which is why the lyrics “And going back won’t feel the same if we aren’t staying. Going back to get away after everything has changed” ring so true. Here I am back at home, but nothing is the same. I bawled last night. Remember earlier when I said I didn’t think I could shed more than a few tears over anything anymore? Well I was wrong. I still only cried for five minutes, and I’m sure the alcohol assisted with that. But the whole experience left me feeling emotionally drained and empty. To say I’m feeling lost right now is quite an understatement.

 

All I Want For Christmas…

Merry Christmas to everyone out there in cyberspace!

I had a good Christmas. I’m fortunate enough to come from a middle class family that works hard. I got all the gifts I asked for. It was a good day spending time with my immediate family. However, it left me time to reflect on what’s really important in life, what I hope to find one day and unfortunately I couldn’t help but feel a little blue for what is missing right now. There’s definitely a very large empty space in my heart, left there by my ex who will be referred to as P in this blog. I don’t like to wallow in misery or pain. It’s not my style. I’m the one pushing through, who’s always okay. You could never guess how much it hurts just from looking at my face. I suppose it’s my way of coping. I’m hoping to ignore the pain long enough that it will just go away.

What I wish I had most this Christmas was someone to love and someone who loves me. I know my family does, but it just isn’t the same. It’s the first one out of the past five that I haven’t been with P. That’s a lot of Christmases. It’s very strange, because I’m used to being very busy trying to coordinate seeing his family and mine equally. This year I didn’t have anywhere to go today. And while I enjoy being home relaxing, the act of doing nothing all day has left me feeling more empty then normal. I find activity helps keep these feelings at bay. I can’t be sad if I’m too busy to think about it.

I’m not completely alone. There is a man in my life, we can call him D. But he’s confusing to say the very least. P and I broke up once before, a year and a half ago. During that time period, I “saw” D. We were never anything official. I question what we were all them time. I’m not entirely sure of what his feelings for me were. I’m sure he would say the same about me. But we both resisted falling for each other, because he was going to be leaving to go to graduate school in Baltimore.  I ended up getting back together with P. D was angry with me for that and we stopped talking. He had every right to be angry about that. I was an idiot to go back to P. But some lessons you just have to learn for yourself.

Anyways, D and I started talking again about two months ago. He lives in Baltimore and I live in State College so we haven’t seen each other. We IM a lot. Now we’re both home for the holidays. He lives about an hour away from me when we’re both at home. And yesterday he asked me to come spend the night Monday and hang out with him Tuesday (I’m sure we will be doing more than just “hanging out”). I was apprehensive about agreeing at first, just because I haven’t seen him in so long. But eventually I agreed.

I wonder what will come of this. I have very low expectations. We do live very far apart when we’re both at school. Not to mention there is a significant age difference. But I think life has taught me to have low expectations of people. My friends have asked me if I would date him if he wanted something more. I honestly don’t know the answer. At this point in my life, a relationship scares me. Mostly because my last one was such an utter failure. I also fear trusting anybody with anything. In my experience, trusting people is how you get hurt. I know this is a very cynical view on life. I’m hoping with time and healing, I’ll change my mind.