Someone. Anyone,
Kill me. Please.
Put me out of this misery.
Now, would be the perfect time to blow, an aneurysm.

Wow, that almost rhymes. The thing is I am not trying to be poetic. I am merely trying to convince myself that continuing to breathe will be worth it.  Its eerie how fast I can see my own end hurtling down on me.


Now what

I feel so ill.  If I start to cry will it ever stop. Will the voice that is screaming ever quit.  I remember, I remember screaming, screaming. I remember the leash. I remember. Please god. Make me not remember. I don't want to remember the green walls and the dark. I am so scared of the dark. I don't want to go there. I promise I never told. I never told.  They promised. I never told.


Baby Steps??????


I hope you're right. The new T is okay. I think I spilled a little too much. I am starting to doubt myself. I'm wondering if it's possible to truly have lived my life.  Is it conceivable to have lived the life I have and still be alive?  I wonder if some people survive through sheer proof that we humans are in products of god. So, that god can say, " do you see? I am here. Aware of all of you.  You did not climb from ooze." 
   I am in no way saying that my existence is more deserving of god's proof. Oh, fuck it maybe I am. I have just noticed that when I talk people's eyebrows start to climb towards their scalp. 
"oh, sure, sure you survived cancer. You were in a coma ?? How many people sexually abused you??? Wait you have what kind of illness. trigeminal neuralgia? no that's not possible. You have autonomic neuropathy too. Sweetie, I'm pretty sure you're fucking delusional." Yes, I know.  I have never even thought about how much I have done that to other people.  I'm sorry about that. I get it now. 
  I asked the new T what the pros to EMDR are. He said things like, it's fast, its not triggering (as much), you stay grounded. Then he said that the processing happens on the inside.  Whaaaa ??? Hang on. I'm pretty sure the whole reason why I'm in a shit storm right now is because I can not process this inside my head.  I need to talk about it. I need to tell. I need to tell more than" oh hey I was sexually abused."  I have tried that move on fast bullshit. The whole "R, we don't need all the minutiae." " Can't we talk about something else?"  
  Now, I do not want to talk about everything. I do not need to describe every tiny detail. I do need to get some history straight. I do want  to say hey fuckers that douche bag raped me.  Maybe that's wrong. Maybe the platform for that discussion has disappeared. I don't care.  I DON'T CARE got it.  I don't  I wish I had the words before but I didn't. I do now.  I am hoping that is a step in the right direction. I hope that is my first step. I am pretty sure I have taken many first steps in the wrong direction. I don't really know how much more I have. 


Broken thoughts

 Wilkie asked me to make a list of what I wanted to be. Who the girl could have become.  She asked me if I knew. I don't know. I am so tired of people telling me that it was so long ago. Is that supposed to help? Am I supposed to know why I feel more broken today than a year ago?  I lost that so long ago. Now I'm supposed to walk into a new therapist? I'm supposed to tell him that so long ago someone ripped out my heart and ground it up. Could you please find it and put it back??? I feel so confused. I wrote this in my journal because everyone keeps telling me that I have to move on. That I have to find something to live for. I don't really know that I exist. So maybe its not about me.

     It's about her. It is not about how bad it was or how long it has been it is about her. A small girl's spirit that was broken and crushed time after time. It's about how the world went on without her. How her body grew and her mind. How her family never even suspected. It's not about therapy and its not about justice. Not about revenge. It's not about how bad it was or if it is still bad. It is not about growing up it isn't about how her body betrayed her over and over. It isn't about taking back my life. It isn't about moving forward. It isn't about who I am know or who I can choose to be. It isn't about watching her friends grow up and her sisters too. It isn't about being believed. It isn't about staying a child. It isn't about being alone. It's about a little girl with all her hopes and dreams. A pretty little girl who loves to twirl and laugh. A girl who had never felt unsafe. A child full of promise. An innocent baby. Brand new to this world. She was real. She really lived. I see her. I can almost catch a glimpse of her if I turn real fast. All of that gone in a moment. In a quick hard grasp, fingers with dirty nails, pulling and pushing. Ripping her clothes then her body. That was all it took she was gone. Her eyes went dark she held her breath and disappeared. She buried herself deep inside the darkest hole she could. She told herself that there was no hope, or beauty. That dreaming was dangerous. Worst of all she told herself that she was bad. That god made her bad. That he sent her to earth to be punished. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I don't know how to fix this.

Anyway, I start EMDR today.  What do I say to him? Uhh yeah hello. I'm your new fucked up trauma client.  I hope this isn't too much...  Wow, I can't even face myself in the mirror. Why is it when your doing something for the first time that you really really don't want to do your body grows 14 sizes? please god shoot me now


Bad week

I was so unique 
Now I feel skin deep 
I count on the make-up to cover it all 
Crying myself to sleep cause I cannot keep their attention 
I thought I could be strong 
But it's killing me 

Does someone hear my cry? 
I'm dying for new life 

I want to be beautiful 
Make you stand in awe 
Look inside my heart, 
and be amazed 
I want to hear you say 
Who I am is quite enough 
Just want to be worthy of love 
And beautiful 

Sometimes I wish I was someone other than me 
Fighting to make the mirror happy 
Trying to find whatever is missing 
Won't you help me back to glory 


You make me beautiful 
You make me stand in awe 
You step inside my heart, and I am amazed 
I love to hear You say 
Who I am is quite enough 
You make me worthy of love and beautiful

I was trying so hard to be more consistent in writing.  My life feels like it has been put on hold this past couple of weeks.  Okay, my life has been put on hold for years.  I'll just say its been pretty crappy.  
     I don't know very much about the spectrum of dissociation disorders. I do not even know if there is one.  I do know that I have struggled with it in the past. I seem to have a pretty big disconnect from my body. I think I also have one from my "identity".  However I don't really have any clue who I am right this second.  Where that fits into my identity, I have no clue. Here is what I do know.
    I know that I have sexual trauma in my past. I know that I have bullying and emotional abuse in my past. I know that I am scared.  I am terrified. There is not a word big enough for what I am.
    So, what's with the lyrics?  Sometimes I can't find the words, or arrange them to mean what I want to say.  Music helps me to do that.  this song is Called Beautiful.  Its sung by Bethany Dillion.  When I heard it it touched my lost soul. The part of me that remembers what I could have become.  When I say that, I don't really mean a different person/personality.   I mean that deep inside my spirit, my heart, remembers what I felt like before.  My terror started young.  I don't really have many conscience memories of the "first time".  I have always said I died. The real me. That she was murdered. That she became my screamer.  I remember when that happened. Is it a true linear memory, no, probably not. It is vivid though.  The screamer is also clear as glass. I can see her and hear her. Sometimes she gets very loud. Like right now.  She remembers being unique. She remembers having to die. I remember. I remember locking her away. Trying so hard to keep her safe.  I wanted her to go away.  It is her I see in the mirror. 
     Wilkie wants me to do EMDR. I think I have frightened her.  I have said way too much. which is just like me (blah,blah, blah,...) I don't really know.  I wish this would go away. I do not know why it refuses to stay buried. I wish someone could help. I wish. I wish.  Wishing doesn't work.   There is no one coming to save me. They were always right about that.  
     Wilkie asked me. Rissa, after all you have told me, about the illnesses, the abuse, the rapes. Could there possibly be anything worse? She said, maybe this feeling is a shift in thinking. Maybe the long held beliefs that you hold on to are changing.  That would feel very frightening.  It would be a very normal reaction to be apprehensive about being okay.  Damn, skippity, she is right about that. She is so very wrong about the storm that is coming her way.  
     What is coming? I don't know. It is going to be bad though, it feels like it might kill me.  I have said so often that I want to find the pieces of my broken soul that have been scattered like trash. I started with my spirituality. That has been a hard piece to find, it was ripped away so early.  I know now know that god didn't abandon me. In those places he could not enter and the times I had to walk alone he gave me a guardian angel to walk beside me.  He gave me a mind that could take me far away. I do not curse god. I only hope to understand. I know someday I will.  You know, I always hate when people get preachy on Facebook and blogs. However, since I'm pretty sure no body reads this blog.  I suppose I don't care.
   On the medical front, there is not much. The Neuroman says the MRI found white matter disease. He also does not think its causing my symptoms. so pretty much he thinks I'm full of shit. So I am taking a whole ton of meds and writhing in pain most of the time.  However, I can see my first 3 ribs so that is a super bonus.  Now if someone could please explain to me how I can have all the symptoms of autonomic dysfunction, and trigeminal neuralgia, but all of my tests are normal ??????? 
     Dear Lord,  please kill me? Please make this stop. If you can't make it stop please let others see it. I could really use someone on my side.  I could also deal a lot better with all of this if you would please make me 74 lbs. Yes, I know I am insane.  If I can't have any of the good please make this pain visible. Please god, Please help me deal with your will. Let me learn these lessons swiftly.  Please carry this.
     Wow, okay this blog post is so out of control. let's bring it back together and just say this. It has been a really hard week.  I am exhausted.  My screaming soul can not contain it anymore.