Wow

I can't believe it's been almost a week since I've posted.  Time flies!

Things got a little crazy around here.  That evil, horrible,annoying day last Sunday got to me.  I'd thought I was going to be able to get through it w/out too much issue but I was very very wrong.  I kept trying to convince myself that it wasn't a big deal.  But it was there subconsciously anyway.  I was angry all day.  Angry at everyone over nothing at all.  I'd literally look at someone and feel like punching them in the face.  Even as I thought I was dealing with it, it was creeping it's way in.

Some time in the afternoon it all hit and I just sorta melted.  I've been doing pretty well at staying in the present and not letting my past shit get me down.  But all at once the past invaded and I was back in the thick of it again.  I was just overwhelmed by it all...by the hell I went through.  By the fact that it was all so insane that I can barely believe it could be real.  The fact that a human (or group of humans) could do that to another....especially a child, and one they're supposed to protect.

I had a meeting with my sponsor that afternoon though I really didn't want to go.  I just didn't feel up to anything.  When I got there I told her I was feeling really deflated and overwhelmed and she said she could tell.  I tried to explain all these crazy thoughts and feelings to her...about trying to process all this craziness.  The thing is, I've moved past the intensely terrifying flashbacks and such.  I can separate the past and present now.  I'm not afraid of my past nor am I controlled by it.  But I also don't know how to put something so gigantically huge behind me.  A person should not go through what I did.  "Normal" people would be shocked to hear what was done to me.  I hate that I carry around a secret so ugly and shocking.  I hate that there's a part of me that would leave people horrified if it were to escape.  It's not that I want to tell people or anything, it just feels like being normal and living a normal life is somehow living a lie.  I mean how could I really be normal when there's so much crazy inside me.  These days I go to work...I talk to my coworkers like a normal person...I go home at the end of the day without feeling body memories and flashbacks and all that other crap...it's just weird.

Anyway I tried to explain all that to my sponsor and she sort of got it but neither of us are exactly sure what to do with it.  Basically what it came down to was that I'm feeling a need to make what happened to me more "real," because I'm feeling like if I move on and be happy I'm letting down the little child version of me who was hurt.  I'm sure that sounds really, really, backwards, because it does to me the more I think about it.  Logically, the best thing I could do for little me is to go on and be happy, because that's all little me ever wanted.  But somehow it feels like moving on to normalcy is saying that what happened wasn't that bad.  I also felt like that's what my sponsor was saying, because she was telling me to be grateful because some ppl go through "really bad" abuse.

Now I KNOW that many people are hurt much worse than I am as kids.  Sadly, there are many, many stories of that out there.  But I don't want my story to be minimized either.  It's not about comparing, I just need to be validated for my own pain.  My sponsor suggested that I write it out so I have a "real" copy of it, or that I find someone I can trust and tell them my story.  I've really never fully told my story before.  I've told it online somewhat but never out loud and face to face.  I told my foster mom a little bit, but nowhere close to the whole of it.  Anyway, between my sponsor saying that and my wanting to her to know the extent of it, it just started spilling out.  Well sort of.  There was a major internal war going on.  I was raging inside with so much hatred for the bad ppl and everything that happened.  I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs about the evil fuckers that hurt me.  I wanted to scream and I wanted my sponsor to hear.  But the still terrified part of me wouldn't let the words come out.  But eventually a soft, shaky little voice came out and I just started talking.

I closed my eyes and described what I saw.  I sorta dissociated but not in a bad way.  I just forgot where I was, forgot who was there, and just spoke what happened and what was in my head.  My sponsor asked a few questions but mostly just listened.  When I "came to" I was a bit in shock that I'd really just said all that, but it felt ok.  My sponsor was shocked I think.  She compared it to nazi germany.  Not because of the actual events, but because of the total dehumanization...that my parents saw me as an object for torture not a person/child.  She said they were "sicker than she thought."

I left her house, got in my car, and sat there in shock.  I couldn't believe what I'd just done.  Thankfully I talked to a very supportive friend who helped me focus enough to at least get my car moving and heading home.  I talked to another friend later that night who was helpful as well.  But I was still freaking out so I called my sponsor later to tell her so.  My sponsor proved herself to be amazing yet again.  She said she was honored that I'd chosen her to tell, that she wouldn't tell anyone else, and that it doesn't change anything between us.  When I'd asked her if anything changed she said "what would change?"  I told her very honestly about my fears that my craziness and my horrible stories are going to scare her away but she promised me they won't.

The next morning at work I got a text from her.  Now keep in mind this woman is a bit more than twice my age and definitely a different generation.  She almost never uses her cell phone.  She uses her land line almost exclusively, with no caller ID, call waiting, or any of that.  Oh and dial up internet so I get busy signals from that a lot.  So seeing a text from her was definitely a surprise!  The text said, "I love you."  She tells me that a lot, and it's always weird for me.  I struggle a lot with the l-word because it's meant so many crazy things in my life.  It was always used in very twisted ways growing up, in order to get me to do things.  Even when I am close to someone, and am pretty sure I have all the feelings that would constitute love, I've never been able to tell someone I love them and feel ok with it.  So when she tells me she loves me...which she started doing fairly early and it kinda weirded me out...I never know what to say and usually say "ok" or "thanks."  I'm like the guy from a bad chick flick! lol  Anyway, for some reason this text really meant (means) a lot to me.  I looked at it a lot throughout the day and I still have it saved on my phone.

Since then my mind and my subconscious have been going crazy trying to make sense of all this.  I'm back on the emotional roller coaster...rage, grief, pain, gratitude (at having survived), etc.  I had really intense nightmares again last night for the first time in a while.  But as things progress it feels different this time.  I feel like I have a partner in the battle.  Someone else is fighting with me.  Someone else knows, but is on my side.  Up until now, the only face to face people who know what happened are the ones that did it.  The fact that someone innocent of it all is now with me to fight is kind of amazing.  Slowly the emotions seem to be settling down.  The intensity of everything is lessening.  The question in my head now is just what to do with it all.  I so badly want this new life, but I don't know how to let the past go.  Plain and simple...when it starts to go away too much I pull it back because letting go confuses me.  Mostly I just want it to me something.  I don't want to have suffered for nothing.  I want it to mean something somewhere.  It just seems too big not to.  I mean does shit like that really just happen and then we move on?  My sponsor had a few different answers on this:

1. When I get through the 12 steps and am ready to help others, I'll have the ability to reach out to others who have been through what I have.
2. It means something for me and my life that I can't see/understand yet.
3. Stop thinking about it, the asking will drive you crazy!

My mind knows she's right on all 3, but my heart struggles.  Maybe I just want some closure on all of this.  Some day maybe I'll put more of my story up here, but it's just a whole long line of crazy.  Maybe I just need some sort of "end" to the crazy so I can feel ready to move on.  But of course I have no idea what that end would be, or if it could ever exist (aside from me dying which I don't plan to do any time soon).  But for now I'm about to fall asleep so I guess I'd better stop the rambling.

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I'm grateful to be alive.  It's taken me nearly a year from being in the hospital to be able to say that but I am.  My sponsor was telling me about a story of a man who had killed many young women, most of them runaways.  We talked about how lucky I am that I survived living on the streets as a 14/15 year old.  It's one of the many things in my life that don't make sense.  It seems god wants me here for something, so I'm hoping I'll find that reason somewhere.  Otherwise I would've died at the many opportunities.  Can't imagine he'd spare me through so much just for a random mediocre existence.  I just looked at my nightstand and got a glimpse of a painted rock my sponsor gave me very early on when we started working together.  She'd made it with her grandkids but decided to give it to me.  It says "believe," and she's always telling me that's what I need to do.  I'm working on it.  For now, I'm grateful to be alive and grateful for "believe" rocks. :)