How I REALLY Feel
"Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding." Kahlil Gibran
I only write what I know. This is what I know:
My dad was a mean alcoholic. My parents have NEVER said, "I love you." I have never fallen in love, or at least have had someone love me enough to say those precious, sacred words to me. I always knew I was different than everyone else ever since I was a young child. My life has never been easy, but it could always be worse. I want to fall in love but I am deathly afraid of it as much as I am of my rapist. My rapist was my first experience with a man... my first kiss was his tongue shoved down my throat. My dad had the heaviest, most intoxicated hand I have ever known, but he loves me more than anything in this world. Love really does hurt. I am a survivor. I am a believer. I am a dreamer. I am struggling to breathe every day. My mouth waters for an eight-ball of cocaine and a bottle of vodka, but I cannot slip again, or it will be the end of me forever. My best friend died in a car accident... wish she was here to talk to. My family loves me, but only because I am who they want me to be. I have a full mind and a full body but they are mismatched, disconnected and malfunctioning. I have a wise soul, always searching for something greater, something bigger, something better than what I have been handed. It's not about the hand I was dealt, it's about the game I am in... and I always play to win. I love life, but am deathly afraid to live it. I look in the mirror and only see my rapist's eyes staring back at me... "I'm not like that. I'm not one of those guys..." I know my past is in the past, I must live in the present, and my future is up to me. I am stronger than I feel. I am more beautiful than I can see. I have the world to offer to Life and all her children, except I am too scared to open myself up... I am too scared to know myself as a human being in this World... because I have never, ever felt human. But I am. These feelings are proof of that. I am human. I am a person. My dad did not intentionally hurt me, he just did. My rape was not my fault, it just is. I was raped on my birthday. My first kiss was my rapist's tongue shoved down my throat... at my very own birthday party. I am disgusting, dirty, stained, hopeless. NO. I am beautiful, mysterious, determined and so, so fucking strong. I am strong. I am stronger than my rapist. Only weak people rape... it is about power and taking it away from someone for your own self gain. But no, Jay, I am more powerful than you will ever be. You do not define me. You hurt me. The more I break inside, the more I connect with the outside. The more gray my life gets, the clearer my heart gets. I have to let my heart feel. I know I have to feel everything. This is my right. The good, the bad, the ugly... this is my life. It is my right to own it.
My 7 deadly sins:
LONELINESS
BLAME
DENIAL
PAIN
DOUBT
FEAR
ANGER
Acceptance: I accept what is my life and who I am... or do I? Am I challenging this? Am I being stubborn? Am I standing in my own way? I feel even more dirty when I realize my harsh truths and realities. Dear God, if you even exist, give me a few pills of ecstasy, a few bags of cocaine, a few tightly rolled blunts, a few handles of vodka... and another one-night stand to make me feel WANTED when I don't even want myself anymore.
Drugs: I want them now more than ever. My mouth is watering at the thought of rolling a bill and dancing with my favorite lady of all time: Lady Cocaine. She makes me feel clean... because she is white. The more I ingest, the cleaner I become. Oh, just thinking about her makes me miss her terribly. I lived next door to my coke dealer for so long. My LA dealer had a crush on me... he would always call when he had "really good stuff." I would never have to pay for it... it's tough being an attractive party girl, I suppose. "We're lucky you're hot," my guy friends would tell me. I was always the only girl still partying with all of them until six, seven or even noon the next day with mounds of cocaine and bottles of beer everywhere. Cocaine made it all go away. Lady Cocaine wiped my slate clean. Literally.
Love: I don't know what this is. The only love I have known is my love for the next big party. No. Wait. I am in love with the unknown. Life is a big unknown. Why my rape happened is a big unknown. Why it happened in the most fucked up, horrible, messy way is a big unknown. Figuring out how to abort my rapist's baby was a big unknown. And here is a flashback:
His hands were hot and eager. They brush my thighs as he removes my pants in one big swoop. I think, "This can't be happening. This isn't happening." I feel his breath in my left ear as he kisses my neck and makes sounds. He shifts his body directly on top of me. I melt under him. "Is this why you kept feeding me beer?" I ask him. I am crushed. Literally. I know what is happening. I realize this is my fate tonight. It is my birthday... and he will not stop until he feels like he gets what he deserves. He will rape me. My first kiss was his dry, coarse, drunken tongue shoved down my throat. He is raping me tonight, on my birthday, at my very own birthday party.
I don't know if I can ever forget his eyes that night. He grabbed my face with both hands as he told me over and over again, "I'm not like that. I'm not one of those guys. Okay? I'm not like that." But you are, Jay. You know you are. I know you have raped other girls. I looked for a gun in your room that night. All I found was socks to keep my feet warm and family photos on your dresser. I would have killed you if you had a gun. I would have lit you on fire and watched you burn into the same pile of ashes you left my heart in. You told everyone we had sex. You lied... that is why you never looked at me after that night. You know what you did. You know you raped me. You know you can't erase that. I will tell you when I see you. I hope, for your sake, that I don't have a gun.
What if I do kill him? What will happen to me if I see him lying there - dead, motionless, empty, cold... like me? No. I don't want to kill him. I want him to know what he did to me. Just like I cannot ever forget him, he cannot ever forget me.
My birthday is November 17. The day of my birth is the anniversary of my death... ironic, isn't it?
But I am going to see you, Jay, on the anniversary of it all... on my birthday. November 17. Will we talk? Will I yell? Will you try to hurt me? I don't know... but I will see you soon... My rapist's name is Jay and he lives in Reno, Nevada.
I only write what I know. This is what I know:
My dad was a mean alcoholic. My parents have NEVER said, "I love you." I have never fallen in love, or at least have had someone love me enough to say those precious, sacred words to me. I always knew I was different than everyone else ever since I was a young child. My life has never been easy, but it could always be worse. I want to fall in love but I am deathly afraid of it as much as I am of my rapist. My rapist was my first experience with a man... my first kiss was his tongue shoved down my throat. My dad had the heaviest, most intoxicated hand I have ever known, but he loves me more than anything in this world. Love really does hurt. I am a survivor. I am a believer. I am a dreamer. I am struggling to breathe every day. My mouth waters for an eight-ball of cocaine and a bottle of vodka, but I cannot slip again, or it will be the end of me forever. My best friend died in a car accident... wish she was here to talk to. My family loves me, but only because I am who they want me to be. I have a full mind and a full body but they are mismatched, disconnected and malfunctioning. I have a wise soul, always searching for something greater, something bigger, something better than what I have been handed. It's not about the hand I was dealt, it's about the game I am in... and I always play to win. I love life, but am deathly afraid to live it. I look in the mirror and only see my rapist's eyes staring back at me... "I'm not like that. I'm not one of those guys..." I know my past is in the past, I must live in the present, and my future is up to me. I am stronger than I feel. I am more beautiful than I can see. I have the world to offer to Life and all her children, except I am too scared to open myself up... I am too scared to know myself as a human being in this World... because I have never, ever felt human. But I am. These feelings are proof of that. I am human. I am a person. My dad did not intentionally hurt me, he just did. My rape was not my fault, it just is. I was raped on my birthday. My first kiss was my rapist's tongue shoved down my throat... at my very own birthday party. I am disgusting, dirty, stained, hopeless. NO. I am beautiful, mysterious, determined and so, so fucking strong. I am strong. I am stronger than my rapist. Only weak people rape... it is about power and taking it away from someone for your own self gain. But no, Jay, I am more powerful than you will ever be. You do not define me. You hurt me. The more I break inside, the more I connect with the outside. The more gray my life gets, the clearer my heart gets. I have to let my heart feel. I know I have to feel everything. This is my right. The good, the bad, the ugly... this is my life. It is my right to own it.
My 7 deadly sins:
LONELINESS
BLAME
DENIAL
PAIN
DOUBT
FEAR
ANGER
Acceptance: I accept what is my life and who I am... or do I? Am I challenging this? Am I being stubborn? Am I standing in my own way? I feel even more dirty when I realize my harsh truths and realities. Dear God, if you even exist, give me a few pills of ecstasy, a few bags of cocaine, a few tightly rolled blunts, a few handles of vodka... and another one-night stand to make me feel WANTED when I don't even want myself anymore.
Drugs: I want them now more than ever. My mouth is watering at the thought of rolling a bill and dancing with my favorite lady of all time: Lady Cocaine. She makes me feel clean... because she is white. The more I ingest, the cleaner I become. Oh, just thinking about her makes me miss her terribly. I lived next door to my coke dealer for so long. My LA dealer had a crush on me... he would always call when he had "really good stuff." I would never have to pay for it... it's tough being an attractive party girl, I suppose. "We're lucky you're hot," my guy friends would tell me. I was always the only girl still partying with all of them until six, seven or even noon the next day with mounds of cocaine and bottles of beer everywhere. Cocaine made it all go away. Lady Cocaine wiped my slate clean. Literally.
Love: I don't know what this is. The only love I have known is my love for the next big party. No. Wait. I am in love with the unknown. Life is a big unknown. Why my rape happened is a big unknown. Why it happened in the most fucked up, horrible, messy way is a big unknown. Figuring out how to abort my rapist's baby was a big unknown. And here is a flashback:
His hands were hot and eager. They brush my thighs as he removes my pants in one big swoop. I think, "This can't be happening. This isn't happening." I feel his breath in my left ear as he kisses my neck and makes sounds. He shifts his body directly on top of me. I melt under him. "Is this why you kept feeding me beer?" I ask him. I am crushed. Literally. I know what is happening. I realize this is my fate tonight. It is my birthday... and he will not stop until he feels like he gets what he deserves. He will rape me. My first kiss was his dry, coarse, drunken tongue shoved down my throat. He is raping me tonight, on my birthday, at my very own birthday party.
I don't know if I can ever forget his eyes that night. He grabbed my face with both hands as he told me over and over again, "I'm not like that. I'm not one of those guys. Okay? I'm not like that." But you are, Jay. You know you are. I know you have raped other girls. I looked for a gun in your room that night. All I found was socks to keep my feet warm and family photos on your dresser. I would have killed you if you had a gun. I would have lit you on fire and watched you burn into the same pile of ashes you left my heart in. You told everyone we had sex. You lied... that is why you never looked at me after that night. You know what you did. You know you raped me. You know you can't erase that. I will tell you when I see you. I hope, for your sake, that I don't have a gun.
What if I do kill him? What will happen to me if I see him lying there - dead, motionless, empty, cold... like me? No. I don't want to kill him. I want him to know what he did to me. Just like I cannot ever forget him, he cannot ever forget me.
My birthday is November 17. The day of my birth is the anniversary of my death... ironic, isn't it?
But I am going to see you, Jay, on the anniversary of it all... on my birthday. November 17. Will we talk? Will I yell? Will you try to hurt me? I don't know... but I will see you soon... My rapist's name is Jay and he lives in Reno, Nevada.
posted by The Missing Link at 3/20/2006 08:43:00 PM
9 Comments:
How powerful and deep your words are...
Like you said, we'll get through this together
I see you've taken us all on a big ride here, hey Missing?! Well, good luck to you. Don't forget: beware of what you wish for.
heavy shit.
he does deserve to be dead though. its not difficult to justify killing him.
hopefully i wont see all this on oprah in a years time.
take care.
My suggestion: work on joy. Find it in small doses. Tiny, miniscule atom-sized scraps of joy. Joy will erase the darkness, but it needs energy to grow.
You are incredibly insightful and articulate. You have so much to share. Godspeed.
Hi Missing,
I know the pain, the deadly sins! LONELINESS, BLAME, DENIAL, PAIN,
DOUBT, FEAR, and ANGER everyone does in some way. You will survive it may not be easy, shit is it hard to do! Why not live each moment by moment on the bad days? Why not enjoy even the little things in life? It is important to do the best you can each day, if your having a really bad one, just say shit this is one day that I hate being me! It will pass, and surround yourself with the people who care. It will get better! YOUR WORDS I AM A SURVIVOR, I AM A BELIEVER, I AM A DREAMER! ALL THE BEST IN THIS JOURNEY! TAKE CARE FROM HOLLY
ML--You ARE stronger than you can feel at times and more beautiful than you can sometimes see. I see your beauty. (Go back to my "Do You Know That You Are Beautiful" post/poem; I wrote it for people like you.) Hey, you've really been busy getting some links up here--good job!
you know i know how it feels to be raped because i was raped overe 1 hundred times and half of the m i do not remember because i was relly messed up on drugs and achol andthis man would give me the date rape drugs and everythign
Jesus is the way the truth and the life:
I pray for you
That's Deep.
He deseverves to die, and u are definitalty stronger.
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