survivor-talking

[survivor-talking]

Pro tip: if you've always related to csa victims and kinda had this nagging feeling at the back of your mind that maybe you're not remembering something bad—there might be a reason for that! And boy, it can hit you like a truck at the least expected time

[survivor-talking]

One more day of being forced to live because I guess the pain I'll cause with my death to those around me is greater than the pain I live every day remembering having been his sex toy all my childhood... Do they really believe that keeping me alive is an act of love?

[survivor-talking]

just remember that all the trauma has made you stronger. use that pain to your advantage to get through this. don't give those who hurt you the satisfaction of your silence. live your life to the fullest, do it for that little girl they tried to destroy .

Thank you for your words. I know they're well-intentioned. But I feel like the trauma didn't make me stronger. It made me a hurt woman. I know I can get through this, not because of the pain, but despite it. I have nothing to thank the hell I'm going through, because I shouldn't have had to go through all that in the first place.

I know I should get up and fight, but right now I can't. It just hurts, that's it. It doesn't make sense, and I don't think I can find any meaning in that pain. I can't use that pain to get through this because it doesn't feel like mine, it shouldn't be mine. I mean, I know it is, but I don't want to touch it, I don't want it to belong to me. Maybe in the future, but not right now. Thank you for taking the time to write this and believing in me when I don't even believe in myself.

[survivor-talking]

When I was like 16 a gynecologist performed a vaginal swab on me (I don't even remember why) and while she was doing it, she told me that I had hard skin in there, like scars. My mom was there and said it was probably from using pads, which can irritate the skin. But the doctor said, "No, what she has are scars. It means she had major open wounds that bled and then healed." Neither my mom nor I said a single word. At that age, I still didn't remember the abuse, so I had no idea what could've caused those scars. I'd felt them before, and they were actually uncomfortable, but I was used to them. I thought it was something I was born with.

Now I know why I have them but what I don't understand is my mom's reaction. She didn't say a fucking thing. I mean, if you found out about your daughter having damn scars in her genitals you would want to know the reason right? I tried to talk to her about it but she always changed the subject. Now that I remember more stuff, it's obvious that she knew. She could get at least an idea of what had happened. Of what was happening when I was a kid. SHE USED TO FUCKING BATHE ME AND CHANGE MY CLOTHES WHEN I WAS A FUCKING CHILD AND I CANT'T BELIEVE SHE DIDN'T NOTICE THE BLOD, THE WOUNDS, THE PAIN. She did notice and choose to ignore it. Choose to keep fucking and living with that dude knowing he was raping her child.

I can't forgive her. I can't forgive anyone and won't do it.

[survivor-talking]

I had to pause therapy and haven't been able to buy the medication. I have to pay for a lot of things, I have to eat, I have to buy fucking toothpaste, and I can't do it. I don't have any fucking money. To get it, I have to work harder, but to be able to do that, I have to be well, and I'm not. I don't feel well.

I can't leave the apartment without thinking about what happened to me, what he did to me. The memories come back and the techniques I've been taught aren't enough. Nothing is enough. I want to rip out my brain, my skin, every part of my body he touched. I want to kill myself. I feel so alone. I can't talk with anybody because why would anyone want to listen to me talk about the abuse I suffered at the hands of my father? Everyone has their own problems, everyone lives their own life. Mine isn't more important than theirs. I'm distancing myself from my friends, my family, everyone. And I think it will be easier to kill myself because they won't hold me back.

[survivor-talking]

Lately when I'm in public places (with friends, at a work meeting, walking down the street) suddenly I remember his penis was inside me. As raw and disgusting as it sounds. And everything comes crashing down. I feel a pang in my genitals and I want to throw up. I feel alienated from what's happening around me, and I'm so ashamed that everyone might know what he did to me. I think everyone knows I'm used and disgusting. It's horrible. I can feel his member inside me at that moment, and I cry. You don't know how many times I've cried in public lately. Why doesn't the medication work? Why doesn't therapy seem to help? Screw breathing techniques, screw psychology, screw medicine, screw the whole world. I want to run away. I want to die. I want to kill myself. But I have to keep going, I have to suck it up and act like nothing happened. Why? I was just a kid. I was a kid. Nobody take care of me. Nobody protected me. And nobody can protect me now because nothing is happening. That's not happening and I'm not in danger anymore, but it feels so real. I can feel it. I can feel him. I just want this to stop. I want to die.

[survivor-talking]

I hate how all the progress is small when it all feels so big

[survivor-talking]

[survivor-talking]

It's tiring to feel like no one cares about what I say. Sometimes I can't differentiate reality from my own deeply held ideas and beliefs. I'm constantly reading people's body language, looking for signs of disinterest. I want to cry every time they look away, every time their gaze reveals they're inside their own head and my voice is just white noise. I know they don't do it on purpose, that it happens sometimes, that there are topics they're simply not interested in, but why do I always try to seem interested while others are so indifferent? What topics can I talk about that people will be interested in? Am I that boring? Or am I exaggerating and reading too much into something that has nothing to do with me?

[survivor-talking]

I wish the world would stop so I could recover and move on. If only I could go back in time and avoid so many things. But no one is going to give me back what I lost, no one is going to give me back what was taken from me. I want the world to have compassion for me, and at the same time, I want it to tear me apart once and for all and disappear. I feel lost, broken, dirty.

But the world goes on, and I have to deal with someone else's shit and my own. My body moves, but my mind is stuck in painful moments. What's next for me? I see him in the shadows, I feel his presence walking down the street, I feel his gaze at work, I hear his voice in people who aren't him. I want to rip out my brain, my eyes, my skin, my ears. To not remember, to stop running, to die.

[survivor-talking]

memories feel like weapons

would've, could've, should've, taylor swift/ @come1nalone/the hurting, rupi kaur/unknown/@/geloyconcepion on instagram/would've, could've, should've, taylor swift/ @come1nalone/unknown/praying, kesha/ @hel7l7/would've, could've, should've, taylor swift

[survivor-talking]

Taking the bus to work every day is torture because physical touch with strangers triggers memories, and I'll be dissociating the entire day. I'm tired. I can't continue like this anymore.