I want something and I really do not know what it is
There’s a need in me that I just can’t see
There is something I need that is what it is
It is hidden down deep within me.
He can see my entire soul
He can see what I need
He will not lead me afoul
I am still yet just a seed.
What I need is Him in my life
Every day and every night
The evil one tries to bring in strife
I’m trying very hard to fight.
I need Him
He created me
His light never dims
Sometimes I just can’t see.
– van –
The pain I carry in my heart
Was always there, from the start
Why can’t I get him outta my head
Fourteen years now, he’s been dead
I thought that death would be the end
I might see more around that bend
All this time I couldn’t see
How tough survival could really be
They are not telling me I can be free
To live my life as I should think it’d be
Prepare to get my ducks in a row
The day will come when I must go.
I can be taken care of when I’m there
Fewer mistakes that I don’t care
To live such life out of this place
I don’t think I can keep the pace
No friends around me any more
Can’t make my way to the grocery story
Having to rely on family
Is not the way my life should be
Keep only things that I can use
Without my problems to cause abuse
Good bye my friends, all whom I love
I’ll see you again in the realm above
I feel deserted, no one is there
Getting used to having no one care
No one knows the depth of my fear
Maybe that’s why they don’t come near
Ý
I used to drive them all away
Know there’s nothing I can say
See me here in deep despair
Has me pulling out my hair
Ȳ
They all laugh as though they see
The misery deep inside of me
It’s getting to be easier to take
No longer crying to fill a lake
Ȳ
That lake, I know it is quite deep
And there is where my secrets keep
The way he came, caused me fear
Every time I felt him near
Ȳ
⊗ van ⊗
So many years have passed since I left home. I moved out at 17, when I went away to college. Even the memories from that time are vague. I soon learned I could drown it all out with a bottle of vodka, missing classes due first to hangovers, then the fact that I was too drunk to go to class. My fourth semester, I totally bombed out at school, which resulted in the loss of two scholarships.
It only took me about a month to decide I had to move away again. I joined the Navy. Boot Camp was difficult for me. I was going through withdrawal from the alcohol, but I didn’t want them to know that. I wanted to get through it as quickly as possible, so I could move on to a somewhat less strict environment. When I was diagnosed with mono, I was afraid that would hold me back in my training, that I wouldn’t graduate with the rest of my class. But I did, though I wasn’t actually at the ceremony, due to my illness.
This proved to be my downfall however, which eventually led to discharge from the military. Their reasoning – “Unsuitability due to alcohol abuse. Not recommended for reenlistment.” That took me all of nine months to accomplish. I was drowning in alcohol uncontrollably, with no clear way out that I could see.
Those memories though, continued to haunt me. Some were very distinct, while others were just vague memories that I couldn’t bring to the forefront, but still knew they were there. I remember fear. At night, my heart would pound from the fear, causing me to think that I was hearing his footsteps coming down the hall to my room. Sometimes they were, sometimes not. But this was tearing up the insides of a young child, eventually a young adult, with no clear path that would lead me to safety. I dreamed of running away to live in an abandoned cabin in the woods. I had read a book when I was in Second grade, titled, “The Boxcar Children.” It was a story about three young children, who ran away from their grandfather’s house. They lived in an old boxcar that was still on the tracks, in the woods.
It has taken years upon years to reach the point where I am today. I’m not sure I know exactly where that is, but I now have psychiatric diagnoses, which explain why my life is the way it is now. It explains the odd symptoms, which in the past led me to attempted suicide, more than once. Thankfully, i survived those attempts. I have been in psycho-therapy for more years than I can even count. But I have progressed greatly.
My blog clearly describes my life with childhood sexual abuse. When your abuser is your father, well . . .
Taboo Word Challenge for 9/22/16
You can see today’s taboo word below. Visit Eric, author of the All In A Dad’s Work blog and creator of the challenge, for details on participating.
Click the blue frog to read others taking part in this fun challenge
Taboo Word 9/7/16
I don’t remember how it began,
It was so very long ago
This was the one certain man
That would not let me go
I was so little at the start
And so my memory fails
The man who had no heart
Prevented my tiny wails
No one heard me cry at night
No one knew my fears
My heart beat fast with so much fright
My face so wet from tears
The man who never let me show
How loudly beat my heart
No one was to ever know
My words, they would not start
The man is gone, for all time
Never again, will cause me pain
The memories now forever mine
I will never be the same
~ van ~
You can see today’s taboo word below. Visit Eric, author of the All In A Dad’s Work blog and creator of the challenge, for details on participating.
Click the blue frog to read others taking part in this fun challenge
Taboo Word – Day 2
What is it that you can find, deep within the mind of a survivor? Being a survivor myself, I’d have to say that the answer is not that simple. Some things that remain, are often things that you don’t want to remember, ever. I believe that I have some of these myself.
I have been going to therapy for a good 30 years or more, and I am still working on getting past thoughts and patterns that affect my behavior on a daily basis. Some of the memories that I have recovered, have helped me to understand why I’m the way that I am.
These memories are ones that explain why I have the diagnoses that I have. Some of these memories explain the poor self-image, poor self-worth, or inappropriate emotional responses, causing poor reasoning, avoidance of people or places and exaggerated emotional responses.
They can also cause the impulsiveness that leads me to spending in excess, emotional outbursts, and relationships that are short, and often over emotional. My long-term relationships have lasted for five years each, and I’ve been through and used up three of them.
Now I live alone, and everything that I act on, is still based on exaggerated emotional responses to the stimuli around me. This has been my life for the past 16 years. I take part in outside activities, like Bible studies and wheelchair sporting events, but everything is done (hah!) in a way that protects me from experiencing those emotions that are almost always inappropriate to the situation.
So I spend most of my time alone in my apartment, with only my cat, all the things I take part in on the Internet, and Netflix and my big screen TV. One person that lives in this building, understands a lot of my interactions with others, and the thoughts behind my actions.
But now, my therapist wants me to start relying more on my peers, and less on professionals for support. This is very difficult for me to carry out, but I make it seem to her, that I am changing this behavior. This is not easy for me. Not at all.
You can see today’s taboo word below. Visit Eric, author of the All In A Dad’s Work blog and creator of the challenge, for details on participating.
Click the blue frog to read others taking part in this fun challenge
Throughout the years of childhood abuse
They made me feel there was no use
Through all those years of constant strife
I could not live my very own life
A children’s view of this time
I never had a thing that was mine
Hand me downs from those of old
No longer did keep out the cold
The home itself was cold as well
Living there, I went through hell
They taught me when I moved a way
That others still had their say
In how my life to be controlled
Again I lived in that cold
Afraid to peek out of the hole
Burrowed deep within my soul
Now I live here on my own
My body now is fully grown
But carries all the scars I earned
That taught me I had never learned
But down the hole, did I fall?
Little by little I changed it all
Every night I sit for dinner
Another day I am a winner
I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder many years ago, and have been taking pretty much the same medications over this time. I have BPD. I know I have it. I recognize the symptoms when they get worse. I wouldn’t dream of stopping them, for fear of the consequences.
It has long been thought that BPD was caused by abuse as a child, or some other horrendous trauma experienced when young. It has been brought to my attention that in order for someone to develop BPD, there has to be one or both parents who suffer from this disorder. This disorder is passed on genetically.
Without the genetics, BPD does not occur, despite popular belief, because of chronic abuse as a child, alone. The gene must also be present. I realized a couple years ago, that my mother must have had the same disorder. Based on the way that she treated me, along with the sexual abuse from my father, I developed BPD.
There has to be at least five symptoms a person must have to be diagnosed with this disorder.
To be diagnosed with BPD, five of these nine symptoms must be present. When I finally learned about Borderline Personality Disorder, it was sort of an ‘aha’ moment. Now, things that I feel or do, I understand why. I suffer from eight of these nine symptoms.
I understand why I will do almost anything to prevent what I perceive as abandonment. I understand why all of my relationships were either inappropriate, extremely intense and unstable. I understand why I have a great deal of new debt, that has occurred after the agreement with the debt management program, that I would not apply for anymore credit cards, and this new debt is due to three new credit cards. I understand why I became a chronic alcoholic (Nearly 17 years sober now). I understand the cuts on my arms, the overdoses, and all the threats of suicide, and all of the psychiatric hospitalizations.
I understand now, why I am me, and why I still do many of the things on that list. Do you now understand me?
I needed to say this again. I have too many things going on, messing with my mind.
A fissure on Fimmvörðuháls, by Henrik Thorburn
To look at me you wouldn’t know,
The things inside that grow and grow.
The outside that is calm and cool,
Every one of you, I try to fool.
But the fool is really me,
Hid inside, no one can see,
But sometimes things come boiling out,
The fire you’ll see, have no doubt.
But with the fire the tears do come,
It may seem childish to some,
But the hurt runs down my face as tears,
Easing some hurt from long passed years.
The tears wash away some pain,
A better outlook, I might obtain,
This outlook helps me to see,
When I’m not how I should be.
PTSD, oh how hard it can be.
See things over and over again,
Some things, not remembering them,
Some things I’ll never do again.
PTSD, makes me scared of life,
Growing up, filled with strife,
Used to get the great big knife,
But something keeps me clinging to life.
I see things over and over again,
They hide deep inside my head,
I won’t do this, I won’t do that,
But other things, keep doing this or that.
Programmed deep within my soul,
What will it take to make me whole?
Memories keep rushing to the top,
I don’t know how to make it stop.
~ van ~
Through The Clouds 