Is This Blog Even Worth It??
I don't even know why I started this blog. It's not as if it will matter much - who will be reading this crap anyway? I'm sure people have better things to do than to hear about some girl's fucked up life and how she doesn't know what the hell to do with it.
I think I regret sending off that email to whats-his-face below. Oh well - what's done is done. Now if I could only remember that philosophy with the rest of my life.
Rape. Rape. Rape. Rape. Rape. I hate that word. I hate seeing it anywhere. I hate hearing it. I have heard it used as an adjective by my own family before, but not in the literal sense of the word. That even disgusts me more, that people don't recognize how powerful of a word Rape really is.
I don't know why I can't accept my rape, acknowledge that it is a part of my life and move on from it. I feel totally and completely alone, helpless and drained. It feels like no matter how hard I try to pick up the pieces and move on, I just get so confused with the next step. None of the pieces fit like they used to. Some are too big, some are too small, most are way too sharp and cut me deep inside, some are too dull and don't match. Whatever whole the broken pieces of my life make up is missing the middle, the lifeline - my heart. Although my emotions roller-coaster around at record breaking speeds, my heart is numb.
I don't think I have ever felt so fucked up before. I know I am not going crazy, but what if I am? What if my rape has created so many fears, anxieties, angers and pains inside of me that I will never feel like a person again? What if I never feel like I belong in this world?
What if my rapist killed me that night? Why didn't he? Why didn't you, Jay??? Why didn't you just finish me off and end it forever? Or perhaps this is your way of killing me slowly... the nightmares, the snapping, the triggers, the memories, the electric shocks of your hands and lips, the intense glare in your eyes...
I just wish you would have killed me, Jay. My life would be much easier if I didn't have to learn how to live it after you raped me... and left me cold, empty and alone.
I think I regret sending off that email to whats-his-face below. Oh well - what's done is done. Now if I could only remember that philosophy with the rest of my life.
Rape. Rape. Rape. Rape. Rape. I hate that word. I hate seeing it anywhere. I hate hearing it. I have heard it used as an adjective by my own family before, but not in the literal sense of the word. That even disgusts me more, that people don't recognize how powerful of a word Rape really is.
I don't know why I can't accept my rape, acknowledge that it is a part of my life and move on from it. I feel totally and completely alone, helpless and drained. It feels like no matter how hard I try to pick up the pieces and move on, I just get so confused with the next step. None of the pieces fit like they used to. Some are too big, some are too small, most are way too sharp and cut me deep inside, some are too dull and don't match. Whatever whole the broken pieces of my life make up is missing the middle, the lifeline - my heart. Although my emotions roller-coaster around at record breaking speeds, my heart is numb.
I don't think I have ever felt so fucked up before. I know I am not going crazy, but what if I am? What if my rape has created so many fears, anxieties, angers and pains inside of me that I will never feel like a person again? What if I never feel like I belong in this world?
What if my rapist killed me that night? Why didn't he? Why didn't you, Jay??? Why didn't you just finish me off and end it forever? Or perhaps this is your way of killing me slowly... the nightmares, the snapping, the triggers, the memories, the electric shocks of your hands and lips, the intense glare in your eyes...
I just wish you would have killed me, Jay. My life would be much easier if I didn't have to learn how to live it after you raped me... and left me cold, empty and alone.
posted by The Missing Link at 2/20/2006 07:05:00 PM
1 Comments:
I have no idea who you are - and it's really not important. I know you wrote this a long time ago, but I wanted to tell you that I was raped almost a year ago and literally wrote almost the exact same thing in my journal last night. Or maybe the night before, I can't remember. Anyway... I hope I'm not dragging up old feelings for you but please, please know that seeing it coming from someone else was so comforting for me. I've spent a lot of time thinking "WHY CAN'T I JUST GET OVER THIS ALREADY?????" So thanks for writing it and making it something I can Google. I'll probably keep reading - a little at a time so I don't get overwhelmed - but thank you. I hope you are well and I hope even more than going back and rereading this post bring you feelings of how far you've come and how much progress you've made. I don't know you, but that's what I wish for you.
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