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1-10 how much I still struggle

Isolation: 8*

Chores: 4

Appetite: 7*

Material: 6

Desk work: 5

Privacy: 9*

Movement: 4

Physical: 5

Social freedom: 8*

Identity: 4

Pride: 6

Personal boundaries: 1

self harming : 2

Spiritual composure:4

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i am loved i am lovable i am capable of love, loving, and being loved.

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I'm back and DamAgEd

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Escalation/ work in progress

Okay i’m really proud of myself for articulating this so well. I was talking with Donna about how abuse really starts small and escalates. Theres still a lot to be added and elaborated, humility practice, and the spiritual control aspect is very unclear and unavailable still. But otherwise i think i covered most of the basics Understanding the escalation and remembering what boundaries were violated and the properties of negative reinforcement can really help with understanding triggers! I’m doing really well processing lately and taking care of myself better! Small steps but big hopes <3

Punishment

1.

isolation

- 20 minute time out>1 hour time out>3 hour>locked in room all day

2.

chores

- regular stuff like dishes>cleaning with manic expectations> cleaning rooms punishment- isolation and material/ scrubbing all the floors with ammonia

3. 

appetite

- eating out> food type> food quantity

4.

material

- toys> hygeine> tasks for other kids> money> furniture

5.

desk work

- school work> essays> recitation

6.

privacy

- watching us>removing doors>not being able to pee or shower privately> cameras

7.

movement

- composure> physical expression> emotion

8.

physical

- pinching> scartching-nails> hair brush> paddle on butt> paddle on legs/back arms> slapping> pushing> hair grabbing> throwing things> hair pulling> punching/hitting > strangling

Freedoms that were already taken by then:

social freedom- no friends over>no going to friends houses>after school activities> homeschooled> out of house classes, band psr, volunteering, church> chosen friends> band,psr, church> church,psr> church, thrift shops, grocery shopping > church and prohibiting talking to siblings> complete detachment

Identity- colors, physical appearance, clothing> actions> morals> personality> gender>

pride- name calling(retarded,slut, psycho)> ‘just a joke’> degrading> dehumanizing> removing identity> humiliation

personal boundaries- showers>touching>

humility practice- soaps> ammonia>

spiritual composure- 

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It’s the small things that kill you

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I can’t feel anything but I also feel everything

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aster is so cute

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Remembering when my mother took us to a chapel in Cartagena, Columbia to see St. Peter Claver. I remember the franciscan sisters there were charismatic and manic, and being within the walls of the church instilled that same unworldly fear in me, the kind that made me want to rip my eyes out, the kind that made me fear not God, but something beyond him.My stomach a stone, my skin on fire, my brain about to explode, nothing was in my control, nothing was in my power. 

Even when i believed in it’s holiness, I was so conflicted because out of nowhere i only wanted to suffer, not death- not evil- but unadulterated suffering. I craved torture, i lusted agony. My mother had a fascination for relics and dead bodies though. That in itself didn't bother me. It wasn't the bodies that made me uneasy, it was that energy surrounding some of them. I had experienced that feeling so many times. I have endured such darkness far more than any grace of God.

I don’t claim to be some indigo child. I don't read auras, i don't believe in paranormal phenomena, and i have my doubts of God’s existence. But i have always been sensitive- aware, and what i experienced growing up was beyond human experience. The experiences of darkness i have repressed are absolutely insane and I feel like i should talk about them, but i don't know with who or how, or what that would do to me now.

Not being high and being on meds has opened my mind so much, to the point where i’m mentally crippled in every other aspect besides reliving trauma.

I can’t focus, and i want to die a lot.

I’m going to figure this stuff out.

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stigmata

(Rules For A True Stigmata:

-The wounds must all appear on the same day -They must cause considerable modification of tissue -They must remain unaltered despite medical treatment -Must cause hemorrhages -Must not result in infection)

External bleeding in the likeness of christ was taught to me to be one of the highest form of human transcendence into sainthood. The hierarchy of Seraphim itself instilled within your flesh, bleeding out Christ’s suffering as a reminder of his body we consume, his spirit of suffering, his crucifixion.  

How did these people really acquire this? God? Satan? Themselves? Psychosomatics? Stress bleeding? Ritualistic sacrifice? 

How can catholics feel comfortable with believing in such a twisted phenomenon? How can religion acceptably glorify mutilation of the flesh? 

Science refuses to touch things with religious affiliation. there is no evidence, so for reasons like such, catholic extremists continue to glorify self-mutiltion and despair of the flesh.

Theresa Neuman, Padre Pio

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I read somewhere that time is relative to your lifetime, that’s why time seems shorter and faster when you get older. So why does my time seem to go sooo fast? Maybe I’ve lived too long of a lifetime or maybe too short of one?? My time is a conglomerate of ‘what the fuck is happening’ and ‘don’t look back’s. I feel like an infant and an elderly woman trapped in the same body. Time is such an illusionary piece to me. I’m twenty years old. I should grow the hell up and take my life for what it is. But It’s time that has me fucked up. It’s time that has me dizzy every day. I can’t keep up with my own feet walking, or my lungs breathing. So I don’t. I let them carry me myself. And maybe there’s a better way to go about it, but I just hope for the best...Is time going too fast or am I too slow??...

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g 00-- c cm / c f g / d d7

you said i love you

i said goodbye

i said I’m sorry

you asked me why

i said i love you

but i cant stay

you said well baby

ill blow out my brains

my therapist told me

not to talk to you

but “i am so in love”

don’t know what to do

you said all i wanted

was to be is your lover

but honey, broken hearts

don’t fix each other

No no no…