tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-172697772025-12-17T00:46:01.649-07:00<B>Sexually Abused by my father. Raped as a young adult. <p> <center>This is my story. </B></center>survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.comBlogger220125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-92108054745611421322017-07-13T11:59:00.000-06:002017-07-13T12:10:44.127-06:00

I had always thought that healing was just that. You would simply heal and life would be sunshine and daisies. I was told that it is a journey, but I didn't truly understand that until recently. Healing is not linear nor singular. &nbsp; There is no ultimate, magical moment that you reach where everything is perfect and all the trauma has been erased.&nbsp; Even though I hate this

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-29720561815268183752014-03-14T01:11:00.001-06:002014-03-14T01:11:58.135-06:00

My Story, My Shame 2.0 My very last post was all sunshine and flowers. I said I had healed and that life was wonderful. Please allow me to rephrase that! Life as a whole is wonderful! I love my family and cannot imagine my life without my husband or child. However,&nbsp;I feel like a&nbsp;fraud.&nbsp; I am not finished this journey towards healing. I think I had only started and did what I

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-43151149903188970512012-01-09T10:49:00.008-07:002012-01-09T11:29:55.972-07:00

Wow, how time flies and life just happens.I've come here many times over the past few years to write but I always delete what I wrote for some reason. I think it's because I feel guilty that I don't need this anymore. I'm in a good place and have been for a few years. I got married in 2009 to the boyfriend I often spoke of in my posts. We have a good marriage, we are happy. We communicate, we

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-81756925193379346052009-02-03T08:15:00.005-07:002009-02-03T09:27:52.412-07:00

I was sexually assaulted in December 2008. Again. I just about lost it. I walked into my house and tried calling the police but I couldn't even dial the phone. I just stood there shaking, so full of rage that another person had violated my body that I could have killed him if I wasn't overwhelmed with flashbacks.My fiance (J) and I were coming home from getting dinner at A&W and this guy was

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-27771469380331954782008-10-03T09:12:00.002-06:002008-10-03T10:13:28.679-06:00

Fuck.I stopped writing because it's always the same thing over and over again. "I feel like crying""I'm sad""I feel worthless"Blah blah fucking blah.Can you tell I'm angry? I am so fucking sick of all of those things. I have absolutely had it with all of this bullshit just creeping up and smothering me.What do I do? I don't know what to do. I'm getting to the point where I just want to scream a

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-13038396736810652032008-06-06T07:08:00.002-06:002008-06-06T10:03:11.680-06:00

This is a rant about the serious decline of society... I live by what I think is a basic rule: Treat others how I want to be treated. Easy and simple. Or so I thought.I was grocery shopping last night and when I came out to my truck I found the passenger door was severely dented and scratched by the asshole in the van parked next to me. Based on the severity of the damage it wasn't a simple

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-84922501385586327652008-05-29T07:31:00.003-06:002008-05-29T08:14:21.569-06:00

I am fuming. I am so fucking pissed off that I don't know what to do with the anger but I'm not turning it on myself so where do I put it?Am I not allowed to be mad and frustrated? It seems by J's standards I'm always supposed to be smiles and sunshine. I'm not allowed to get frustrated with him and god forbid I try to talk to him because somehow, no matter what the situation, it turns into my

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-69966437016741329982008-05-22T16:33:00.002-06:002008-05-22T20:21:53.101-06:00

I feel inadequate. I feel like a failure. I feel lost.The inadequacy is partly from my mother. It seems that nothing I do or how hard I work is not good enough. Last week she had me in tears. More than tears. Sobbing to the point of hyperventilating. You know as a little kid when you would get so upset that you gasped for air during a tantrum and breathed snot bubbles? That was me - minus the

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-85706840939681814762008-05-20T11:19:00.005-06:002008-05-21T09:58:10.742-06:00

I feel like screaming. Yelling. Shouting. Breaking something.I'm fucked no matter which way I turn. I've been on my own for almost a year now. In that year I think I've undone everything C or T helped me do. I'm an emotional wreck that even the jaws of life couldn't save.I'm scared to contact C again and ask for help, although I have figured out a way to pay for sessions... the good ol' tax

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-53303097979228948592008-05-02T06:36:00.002-06:002008-05-02T07:06:41.551-06:00

I'm annoyed. I'm in a place where I need help but can't get it. I can't afford it!Thanks to the supposed boom in Alberta all of the free counselling services are overloaded and the waiting period is a minimum of six to nine months. What the fuck? It's no wonder the suicide rate is going up. The only way I can get help is if I go to the Psych ward at the University and hope they would accept me.

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-2816145174640072302008-04-30T12:17:00.002-06:002008-04-30T17:28:06.793-06:00

Does this plague everyone? Is everyone else in the world constantly getting slammed with one fucking thing after another? It seems be what my life has always been and will always be. I'm not complaining. I'm making an observation. Ok, I am complaining. I am bitching and whining and just generally pissed off with the world.J's (my fiance) parents have been living with us since January. They came

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-1470582870478757662008-02-15T14:56:00.003-07:002008-02-15T15:22:33.265-07:00

Yesterday marked the 10 year anniversary since I was raped. It was a horrible day, but not just because of what the day was to me. I quit my job. My fiance (we got engaged on Christmas Day) presented me with a beautiful bouquet of Gerber Daisies which are my favorite and when he gave me them to me I cried. I haven't written for an incredibly long time and I miss it. I have needed to write, but if

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-27332382957713863372007-08-18T14:04:00.001-06:002007-08-18T14:14:48.634-06:00

You all are right I think.I don't think it's possible to heal 100%. Every experience, good or bad, leaves a mark on us and that mark stays forever. I believe it's how we deal with those marks that impacts us in the long run. I let this control my life for so long and I guess without knowing it, I decided not to let it. I fully expect to be in bad places again, I expect to have nightmares and

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-59837462747037905072007-08-16T15:01:00.000-06:002007-08-16T15:04:41.694-06:00

When do you know when you've healed as much as you can? How do you know? Do you ever really heal?

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-74034071505513124242007-08-13T21:53:00.000-06:002007-08-13T22:04:17.538-06:00

Well... this sucks.With the help of C and our session today I think I've reached a plateau of sorts. I think I have healed as much as I can, at least for this point in my life. That's great. That's cause for celebration. At least it should be.Our session ended just 30 minutes ago, and I've been sitting on my bed crying since I hung up the phone. I'm proud of myself. There was a time when I didn't

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-44580148493106328652007-08-06T21:03:00.001-06:002007-08-06T21:52:08.720-06:00

I was going through my music folder on my computer earlier today and came across this song. As soon as I saw it, my heart stopped. At least it felt like it. I played it. And I cried. The tears just streamed down my face. I sat in front of my computer with my eyes closed feeling pain and grief. Loss. The song hits me so strong because even though it's about a boy and his father, it's about a

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-41620409996160229792007-07-19T16:34:00.000-06:002007-07-19T17:47:08.868-06:00

I've been avoiding this place for a long time. I haven't wanted to deal with anything related to this and coming here is just a reminder of what I'm trying to ignore.I've tried to write a few times but I end up just writing the same things over and over again - I'm sad, I feel like crying... I'm sick of it. It's been such a long time I really don't know where to start

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-59779454920148799382007-06-05T19:42:00.000-06:002007-06-05T20:00:30.232-06:00

Whew... I have the rest of the week off. It was a bit of a fight to get it, but I won the battle!Today was my first day to sleep in and relax a bit - well that's what it was supposed to be, but I can't sit still. Instead I taught myself how to lay lino in the basement bathroom. My boyfriend and I had finished painting it a few days ago so I had to scrape paint off the cement floor and putty from

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-5914803665538543162007-05-14T19:06:00.000-06:002007-05-14T19:36:07.215-06:00

I've lost my mind. I am extremely stressed out. By the time Friday rolls around I'm a complete mess. My temper is rearing it's ugly head. I can't sit still. I can't sleep. I stare blindly at the television. I'm developing twitches in my eyes and fingers. I've lost it.I missed 3 and half days of work in the past 2 weeks. I left this past Friday on the verge of tears and an tantrum. When I wanted

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-40311324822633616052007-05-12T21:17:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:18:35.478-06:00

I'm in a fairly horrible place right now. Thanks everyone for your suggestions for stress relief, I think the best way to reduce my stress is to quit my job!! I'll try to be write a little more often...

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-25167729194767019382007-05-01T10:41:00.001-06:002007-05-01T10:41:46.520-06:00

Any advice?

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-56892537126670188252007-04-11T19:34:00.000-06:002007-04-11T19:52:32.091-06:00

I'm working with C again (thank God) and we've been working on the feelings of abandonment I'm experiencing.When I started writing about my mother the pain and sadness came crashing in. Talking about it with C last night felt like a 20 ton anvil was dropped on me. I started to cry as I asked C not to challenge me on a statement I was about to make... "why would I think anyone could care about me

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-47512821299933435702007-03-22T18:16:00.000-06:002007-03-22T18:45:47.365-06:00

I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doingI go to bed every nightI lie there waiting for sleepSometimes it comesSometimes it doesn'tI get out of bed when the alarm goes offI have a smokeI showerI feed my dogsI go to workI spend all day wishing I was somewhere elseBut I don't know where4PM hits and I leaveI get in my car and my boyfriend drives us homeI feed my dogsI make dinnerI sit on the

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-25174388652101940252007-03-06T18:16:00.000-07:002007-03-06T18:23:28.021-07:00

I feel like I'm in a pressure cooker and ready to implode, all of the ugliness inside me pouring out.Nice visual...I almost went to the hospital on the weekend to check myself in to the psych ward...There should be awards for the best depressed/suicidal happy faces... not to toot my own horn, but I'd be in the running... almost a shoe-in to win!I'm a barrel of hollow laughs and fake smiles.

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17269777.post-63310471783446388672007-03-02T15:04:00.001-07:002007-03-02T15:04:59.799-07:00

I'm at a serious low and continuing to sink. I keep telling myself I'm OK.I'm not. I'm not OK, not even close.I keep welling up at work. I dig my nails into my palms to keep the tears away. Everything is getting to me, and I mean everything... I want to spend the weekend in bed. I want to be alone, but being alone isn't the best thing for me. I know this, but I still want to be alone. I want

survivorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956175689498041699noreply@blogger.com10