There was a little girl who came to the house one weekend while i was there. i was still recovering from broken ribs and thus not servicing clients. i spent most of my time by Benny's side carefully tending his growing feelings for me. Doing my very best to solidify his caring about my well being. One miserable afternoon i sat watching yet another card game, fetching beers, holding my ribs, and trying not to moan when John decided to poke me playfully. That would only have gotten him started and invited more pain. Tunnel vision, that's the picture I'm trying to paint for you. i was completely focused on myself and the two men who held my life in their hands. A commotion suddenly began over head. We heard raised voices in the upstairs room and when Edward began to really yell John leapt to his feet and took was gone. We heard him taking the stairs two at a time. A short while later John drug a tiny girl down the steps. She was bruised and battered and her enormously swollen lips dripped blood in that sluggish way of a wound that just won't quit. One of her high heels was broken off and she wobbled with every step she took. Her torn stockings carried the blood from her shredded knees and as i watched one came unfastened from her garter and slithered down her leg. Her face was a smear of running mascara, lipstick, bruises and blood. Her badly cut hair was soaking wet and she shivered slightly. In short, she was a mess. In my drug addled state i could only gape at the pair of them. The giant tense and indecisive and the tiny girl, the pitiful and wretched. "Raven shut your fucking mouth and go clean up Edward's new girl, I want to get a look at her and I can't tell a thing with all this mess." John gestured at the bruises and rips and blood. i got painfully to my feet, restraining the noise that always tries to crawl out of your throat when the pain gets too bad. i took her hand and led her to the shower off of the back basement room. She trembled when i touched her, cried when i undressed her, cowered as i washed her, and finally whispered her secrets to me as i dried her and tended her wounds. i tried to shut her words out, i tried not to feel, not to hear, not to listen to her pleas that she didn't belong here and for help. When i had made her as presentable as i could, i begged her to go back into the other room. i tried desperately to make her see that she must obey. Obey or die. She choose death.
Jordy-11- Her neck broke when John drug her back down the stairs after she tried to run.
This post started out as a comment in response to Lili's comment yesterday. She said "Listen Darlin', I'm going to say something completely against what everyone else will tell you - there is no hand, there never will be a hand, the only hand that will help you up and out is your own. And when your hand is ready, it'll reach down and pull you up.
I don't pamper you because you know there's no real support in treating you like a baby because you're stronger than that, you're beyond it."
*sigh* You're right Lili. i suppose i knew that. Hell, i know i did, i always have. i guess i just, get tired and whiney, and pissy and just sick to death of the whole fucking thing, and i like to think someone can make it all go away.
i know that's not true. If you want something you have to get it on your own, and you can only depend on yourself. i know these things, and yet i always still... try to dodge that responsibility. i don't know why.
i guess its easier to sit around and cry about help than to face myself and my shit and just get on with it. i'm terrified of doing that, and suddenly J won't do it anymore (he shouldn't have to) and i am trying to learn to stand on my own two feet for the first time.
i don't know what the hell i am doing, or how to do it, or what i even want to do. If i'm not J's slave or Edward's whore or Jackson's bitch or in short someone's cunt... i have no idea who or what i am.
And, i'm afraid of what i'll find when i keep looking. i'm afraid if i wipe all that away, everything that is a reflection of someone else... there will be nothing. That all there will be is a shell and i won't know how to fill it up.
Do you remember when we talked about Jamie on your page, back when i still thought of him as Rooster? i asked you if you thought he was empty. And, you said no, just differently filled.
It makes me wonder. What if all my filling is stupid bullshit that isn't true, or doesn't mean anything? What will i do then? Can i put anything else in there? Aren't i little beyond building my core? Too late.
i just cannot pull it together. Its scary. i feel like my life has turned into a huge rushing roller coaster that i can barely hold on to. As per usual when my life turned into a shambles i have retreated into a far corner and i'm not communicating with anyone. my best friends are calling me saying where the hell are you and emails are going unanswered. i feel like i'm down in the hole. Drowning. And, i can't even seem to reach out a hand to ask for help. What help is there anyway?
On Monday, i went back to therapy. To say it didn't go well is the understatement of the year. i've been on such shaky ground ever since, i've been going and staying with a family member every evening and eating enough valium to sink a battleship. i hope there is an eventual payoff for all of this. my sister says there is. She swears up and down that eventually it gets easier and it helps. *sigh* So, i've been scared to try to blog. i want to. It helps. But, i'm scared of dredging it up and then going and talking to that woman.
i think i'm scared i'll actually tell her something.
At any rate, i'll be back to posting soon. i'm hoping for tomorrow. i had a pretty good day today. Tomorrow i may try to stay home.
i didn't get to post yesterday because Brad had oral surgery. i thought i'd feel like blogging when i got home, but i was just too exhausted and wrung out. It went well, he's doing great and life is getting back to normal.
i have an appointment this afternoon to go back on my medication. i'm dreading it, i know i will be tired for a while. But, i look at Vanessa and see how much better she is on her medication and i want that. Not only for me but also for my family. So i guess i'll go get the damn pills, take them, and nap.
As for dealing with old issues, i'm still debating what to tackle next. i'll probably try to work on some very early stuff which will be difficult for me. But, i do think its necessary. The root of my problem, to oversimplify. If i can make peace with that little girl... perhaps i can begin to make peace with all of it.
You know what, i feel better. i don't know what snapped, clicked or what the fuck ever, but it did. i lived through this the first time. i don't know how and i don't know why but i did. i'll be damned if i'll let it ruin the rest of my life. Damned if i will. Huge thanks to GP, Lili, watcher, and my sister Vanessa for carrying me when i was too weak to walk. Thank you to every reader who left me a comment, sent me an email, or said a prayer for me. i am eternally grateful. i have my act back together, and now i will move forward again. For today here is a poem GP wrote for me.
Phoenix
Again and again, fate knocks you down; opponent and referee, it starts the count.
Crowd on its feet, baying for blood; this world, unforgiving and uncaring.
Your corner is quiet, willing you silently; From the ashes you rise again and again.
i really appreciated this poem. For me it meant that someone saw that even if i do turn into a loony basketcase from time to time that they saw how hard i try. Even if i don't always succeed. Thank you, sugar.
You will not believe this. i don't believe this. What kicked off this latest trip into total insanity? That fucking sealed basement. And, guess what? J says its not even really sealed. His boss's boss (read department manager) is the daughter of the house's new owner. He told her that i was curious about them sealing up the basement because my grandparents once owned the house. And, she told him that it wasn't sealed. That in fact, they were recently down there to work on the hotwater heater. So, i was never trapped. Never. Not even in the irrational insane way i thought i was. And, yet, i still feel smothered. i still feel claustrophobic and lost and forlorn. i'm sick of this shit.
i got so wound up, so twisted and turned and backwards and just plain fucked up... i destroyed the love of the only person who's ever really loved me. i suppose tonight i will try to hide in our tiny house while he packs his clothes and walks out the door. i don't know how i will do it. i still can't breath, my mind is screaming and my heart is broken. i just want to give up. But, then i look at my son, so dependent on me... and i think of my daughter... and i know i can't do that to them. If i can help it. i have to fight and scratch and claw and hang on to life when all i want to do is escape it. Let me do better by my children. i don't know who to pray to anymore. But, i still keep doing it.
i don't know how. i don't know how to find a story to tell about down there. i don't know how much longer i can take this feeling of suffacation and clausterphobia. i don't know what to do. How do i climb back out of the pit of total insanity this time? Yes, i know its nuts. That doesn't make me able to breath any better or silence the screaming in my head. It doesn't take away the need to slash and cut and bleed and know for a little while its over with. That is the draw of cutting for me. While my blood still flows for a little while i get that feeling of perfect peace i used to get when someone had just finished with me. Its over now. And, i can rest. i'd give most anything for it to be over now for a little while. The dread of waiting was always hard. Often harder than the actual surviving. And, now all i do is wait.
i don't know what i'm going to do. i don't know how i'll blog it, if i can blog it, and if i don't how i'll deal with this. i don't begin to know. So right now i'm just trying to come here and write out my thoughts and feelings. Maybe they are too yucky for folks to read. And, that's fine. Don't read them, but don't tell me not to have them. i've never ever deleted a single comment on this blog. But, i will delete people who try to silence me. So just don't do it.
On Wednesday i was driving by my grandparents' house. i drive by it often, its on one of my regular routes, but i usually only drive by the front yard. That was safety. It was clear in the eyes of everyone and Granny often sat on the front poarch. But, on Wednesday, i drove on the sidestreet past their house. And, i saw this.
They have sealed the entryway to the basement. So now i feel trapped in there. i feel like i can't get my breath, that i am smoothering down there and i can't get out. And, when my sleeping mind carried this information to the many little girls who still feel trapped there an unbearably hopeless shriek began and will not stop. We are locked inside. And, no one will ever come and let us out.
