Am I failing?

Ok so I was going to go with just the funny post today but there's just too much on my mind right now.

I'm less than 2 months away from my 27th birthday. That will mark nearly 14 years since I last saw my bio family. It's also 10 years since I was last abused (or more, depending on your definition). The point is, it's been a long time.

And yet today I sit huddled in my room, afraid to leave or even go outside.

I am being swarmed by memories of the horrors of my past. They are clouding any and all other thoughts.

I feel so disgusting because of them that I can't even look at myself.

I can't let anyone touch me, or even imagine touch.

I feel like I'm being overtaken by the evil of it all, and that the evil is literally eating me alive.

I feel the people who hurt me over every inch of my body, and feel that no part of me, inside or out, is my own. They have taken it all. Spread their sickness to all of me.

The only thing that seems it would help is to hurt myself...punish myself...but that doesn't either.

I want someone to beat the crap outta me. I want to be punished for the evil inside of me...the evil still clearly occupying my brain and making me think of these terrible moments over and over and over again.

I am hiding in my room because if I leave here I'll go get drunk. Or find drugs. And for me that would be suicide.

Inside I want to live and be strong, but I can't face the thoughts. I can't face the reality. And I can't face my body and what has happened to it.

I have dreams of being able to help others, but today I can barely take care of myself. I can't handle myself and my disgustingness.

Why, so many years later is this only getting worse?

I've been told that my body and mind will begin to process things when they/I feel safe to do so. Apparently that is the problem, but I would've happily stayed in denial.

A few weeks before my move and my breakdown (so about a month and a half ago now I think) some really horrifying new memories came back to me. These memories brought what my parents did to me to a whole new level of horror and evil. I already knew they were very, very bad people, but these new memories showed me a terrifying level of fore-thought that went in to it...even apparently spending a great deal of money for specific equipment that would have no purpose other than pain. It was bad enough to know that my parents and the others involved were sick perverts who gave in to horrific desires. Now I know that they didn't just give in. They actively planned well in advance.

The realization of these first few new memories opened the flood gates. Once I knew of these new tools and such, the memories came back much faster than I could process. I started having regular horrific flashbacks where I was back in the abuse all over again. I could see, hear, feel, and smell just like it was really happening. I can only hope that I've now seen the worst of it...that I know the full story now. I would say I can't see how it could get any worse, but I know better than to put anything past my parents.

The memories I'm seeing now aren't the worst. They're more the "filler"....what happened other times when it wasn't the worst....how it built up from the time I was very young...how they started prepping me for the horrors that would come later. How I so trustingly allowed myself to be abused again and again, being young and having no concept of what abuse or sex or anything else was. How I never thought to tell anyone because my dad always convinced me it was out of "love" and was what made me "special." These memories aren't awful, not compared to some of the rest. But they show me what horrific evil I come from. What my genetics hold, that I can't find the words to describe.

I know I'm much more than my genes, but I've seen the sickness and it's a part of me now.

I'm afraid of myself. The more I see it and think it....how could I have gone through that and not be crazy? I must be crazy. And not just "different" like I know I am....I must be evil and deep down truly crazy.

I always thought if I survived until adulthood then adulthood would be better. I've worked so, so hard to take care of myself and instead things have only gotten worse. I fought through going to college, getting a degree, staying clean and sober, attempting to make friends, maintaining a relationship w/my foster family, getting and keeping a good job....all things that definitely did not come easy to me. I fought to get to this safe place only to have more surface...only to feel just as awful as I did 10+ years ago.

My mantra of late has been "It will get better." I have to believe that it won't always be like this. But I have to be honest and say I'm tired of living this way. I only get one life...I want to live it for the present, not for the past. But it turns out, at least for me, that's all a cliche. Apparently my past just won't leave. Apparently I can't leave that in my childhood. Apparently I have to relive it again and again and again forever. I want to live, but I don't want to live minute to minute. I want to have fun, and enjoy the little things. I don't want to pray for a moment without a flashback or without some sort of pain.

I always thought that with enough strength I could put the past behind me. But I've tried being strong. It's gotten me nowhere.

Does this mean I'm failing? Did I do something wrong, that I can't move past what occurred so many years ago? Am I just too weak? I just want it to go away for a while, but I can't get out of my body...my evil, horrid body.

I don't know what to do so I'm just going to post this before I have a chance for second thoughts. I should know better than to put this out there for the world, but it needs to be somewhere.