Apr. 1, 2011

Very dissociated today...  Body memories...


Emotional pain finally coming through.  Couldn't face anything couldn't do anything besides dissociate, now that fiance's home I'm starting to feel emotional pain...  Finally started writing a little, was able to get a bit done then I had to stop.  It was mostly about fear.  I called it The Heroin House but it's not finished because I couldn't do anymore.  This one I did sort of in a poem format because it's the only way I seem to be able to write at all right now, but it isn't a poem, more just a rambling...  Just whatever I could get out of the nightmare in my head.  Real flashbacks during dissociative state today.  Am kind of starting to wonder if I do have stuff compartmentalized inside me somehow.  Otherwise, where is all this crap coming from?  I desperately need help but only seem to be able to find it inside myself when I dissociate, maybe that is the difference, between being able to process it in RL instead inside my head.

House of Heroin
It seems like a bad dream
A nightmare of silent screams
Trapped, trapped
And so afraid
Terrified
I thought I was going to die
Did anything to stay alive
Why did it have to be
Why did all those factors cross together
Until it was all my fault
He didn’t show
And I couldn’t face going home
It was so bad there
I was so naïve
Relying on experiences with guys my own age
When it turned out OK
I didn’t think they would lie
I thought saying I had a boyfriend
And wasn’t looking for anything like that
I thought if I set a boundary
It wouldn’t be crossed
‘Cause boys didn’t do that
They might push a little
But if you said no eventually they’d listen
I didn’t know how many of them there were
Or how much older than me they were
Till it was too late
Too late, and I was afraid
They said they’d take me out
Public place, dinner and dancing
I wouldn’t have got in if I’d known
I think they were stalking me
‘Cause someone approached me twice before
Once on foot, once in a car,
I said no
But he never showed
And I didn’t want to go home
Just wanted to do something fun
Been trapped in the psych ward for so long
Only trapped at home because of Christmas
Then I would go to the group home
Finally be away from them
And not hurt anymore, not scared anymore
But it was the day after Christmas
And he never showed
I was supposed to be with him
They lied
To get me inside
Hid how many, how old
Took me to a house instead
And I was trapped
Surrounded by them
We went in
To the House of Heroin
I was so scared, even more scared than I was before
Because I found out they lied to me
Took me to the basement of a house instead
Where no one could see, no one could hear
But I didn’t think about that, I couldn’t
Couldn’t acknowledge their lies
Because I had to survive
I went inside,
Surrounded by men
Watched TV to find something to do, to get away but not let on how frightened I really was
Till they told me to come to the table. No food.
Drugs.
Cocaine and heroin.
I didn’t know what it was then.
They gave me some.
I did it because I had to blend in.
I had to survive.
Gave me more and more.
The most terrifying one sat across the table from me
He never spoke, didn’t do any drugs
Just stared and stared at me
And they started talking about me in a language I didn’t understand
Looking at me
The drugs didn’t do anything except make my tongue go numb
Don’t know why I just seem to be immune
One of them was stoned out of his head
The one giving me all the drugs didn’t do any either
He offered me alcohol but I said no cause it tastes so bad
So he just gave me lots of drugs
I was afraid to say no
Because they were doing them, except those two
And the one guy was really pushing it
The silent one watched me with cold, calculating eyes
Killer eyes
I was so scared of him
He looked capable of anything

I hated myself for so long, so intensely.  I felt such a sense of guilt and self blame and self hatred because of what happened to me.  I thought I was bad, and a slut, and that I deserved everything bad that happened to me, and worse.

Unfortunately that also set me up for more abuse later on.

But I still feel plagued by guilt and shame and some feelings of self blame.  It is hard not to feel that way, even though it isn't even close to the way I used to feel about myself.

And the way my parents treated me made me feel even more that I was bad, and hate myself even more, if that was even possible.

It exacerbated my self hatred, my self blame, and my conviction that I was intrinsically BAD, and that EVERYTHING was my fault.