Let It Go....

This is a true blog. This is NOT a fantasy. There are incidents of abuse that I will write about. Incest is not a weird kink - I don’t condone or role play it- it ruins people. This is a journal of sorts - of my past- trying to let my inner demons out and perhaps heal in the process. Also of my present- trying to stay sane in the crazy life that all to often I begin to think is normal.

[essentialsofanempath]

[releasingdemons]

Just venting here because no where else seems appropriate. I was one of the nice people in high school. I tried to be kind to everyone even if they were picked on by others. I had close friends and we just were who we were. However, I had some people I knew and talked to in all the groups. Cool, gothic, uncool, etc.

Today, I am close “long distance” friends with someone that was super uncool in high school. People teased and picked on him. I never did. I was very good friends with his twin sister. He and I didn’t talk though much.

Now, with social media we have connected. I cheer on he and his wife. He gives me advice and gives me encouragement when I need it most in my life as a single mom with conflicted emotions. Or when I even question if I am a decent human being.

He’s pretty amazing. I don’t know where I am going with this except I’m closer to people I was kind to in high school rather than actually friends with in high school now that we are adults. Some of my friends weren’t nice to the people I was nice to… and I’m glad they did see my heart meant my kindness. Because just about everyone deserves our kindness.

A few dont. Some people are evil. But ya know.

[releasingdemons]

These news stories. They touch a different nerve for me. The Gabby’s all around us can be so afraid to speak up. They can be so terrified of no one believing them or of it getting worse. They spend so much time trying to make their partner happy for just another day, another hour, another minute ….. keep their abuser happy and content so no one gets hurts while they figure a way to escape.

The fear that no one will believe them - because you know how many people their abuser has never thrown into a wall or dragged around by the hair or threatened or beat down or at the worst, murdered?

Usually. The world’s population minus one.

The whole entire world - minus Gabby - gets a nice person to deal with that’s never hurt them.

But Gabby. Oh dear sweet Gabby.

[releasingdemons]

When I was little I was molested by an older brother. I didn’t tell anyone. I dealt with all of this in therapy years later as an adult and made a decision as an adult to still not tell because of many valid reasons. The biggest being it was MY story and I didn’t have to tell if I didn’t want to.

Fast forward. That older brother at one point moved closer to where I live and I again had a plan made during therapy and was coping well. I still chose not to tell I was molested. For multiple reasons.

Skip ahead again. That brother gets himself arrested on multiple multiple multiple child pornography charges. He is in prison. I’m having weird emotions over the whole thing but a huge sense of relief he is behind bars and will probably stay there for a long long time. I have not told my story though. I did learn of some inappropriate comments he made to children in the family.

Some of my family is helping him with lawyers. Making excuses on why he shouldn’t have too much jail time. It was “only” pictures and it was an older teenager and not a “real child” and they respect I don’t want anymore to do with him due to this issue BUT they just can’t not help him because he doesn’t deserve to spend the rest of his life in prison.

An older teenager. He is in his 50’s. I only bring this up because they excuse it away because it was an older teenager. I am in my mid 30’s and dated a man in his mid 50’s and was ridiculed by these same people for the age difference.

I don’t know who to talk to and I don’t know how to process the feelings I am having besides lack of sleep overthinking or ignoring them and watching porn. The therapist that knows my story is medically unavailable and I am certainly wishing but nothing but the best for them at this time as well.

I was coping so well for so many years. And he finally was getting some justice for what he has done to hurt minors. And family members justifying this in even the smallest of ways is the WHY I DID NOT TELL. My soul knew it might be excused away and even if done in the most “innocent” of ways …. My broken inner child couldn’t handle them excusing it in any fashion at all. So I didn’t tell. I haven’t told. I won’t tell.

But I am confused currently. I have considered writing an anonymous letter to the prosecutor telling my story. Sort of telling it. Leaving out details, dates, etc. just stating “hey FYI this guy molested me when I was 8 years old” so I if you’re struggling on deciding on if you make the plea deal or not…”

If he doesn’t get the plea deal of lessor time — I have family that will be heartbroken. And I will know it was my fault.

But. It really isn’t my fault. It is his. Because he molested me. Yet even I victim blame myself from time to time. I need to stop that.

I needed to share this into the universe and give my feelings and thoughts validation.

The thoughts are easier to capture and I can own them instead of them owning me when I can process them enough to at least put them into words on paper - so to speak.

[releasingdemons]

Dear God, I need you now. You promise still waters and green pastures but right now I’m in the valley of death. And there are a fuckton of things to fear.

Such a sincere prayer. So, so real.

[releasingdemons]

I’m not fucking crazy.

I’ve carried these memories all these years. I’d repressed them for a long time and they started coming out in some counseling/therapy sessions several years ago. I sort of beloved myself and my mind and my memories. I sort of believed that the counselor thought these were true memories and not just a bad dream or something made up or a suggestion due to my therapy sessions. I sort of believed myself. Except when I didn’t. I was still around him again after many years. He gave me the creeps. But I felt guilty for disliking him so much. I felt guilty in case I was wrong. I felt fucking bad I didn’t like this family member because I had bad memories that what if they weren’t memories at all.....

He was arrested last week. Arrested. Put in jail. After a long investigation that had been ongoing. For child pornography and who knows what else.

Fuck. I was not crazy. I was not nuts for saying he couldn’t ever watch my children. I was not insane for thinking he was a creepy pedophile. Part of me still wonders if my memories were wrong BUT I think that can and will change with time. I didn’t just make it all up because I didn’t like him.

He’s been arrested.

[releasingdemons]

I was married and he was single.

We were fucking.

We were both single.

We were fucking.

I was single and he was married.

We were fucking.

We are both single.

We are fucking.

I believe one of us has fallen in some sort of love.

I believe one of us thinks this is just fun and passing time.

I’m not sure if we will ever admit which of us is which or if we will ever both believe the same thing at the same time.

[releasingdemons]

When my dad was dying in hospice care- and I was giving the strongest man I ever knew sips of water from a sponge- my husband made it a point to text me and tell me I was a terrible wife abandoning him at home with our kids. That he wished he had married someone else that would have been able to do a better job.

He was such an asshole to me. I just needed to voice that to the universe because it was heavy in my mind.

[yellowtailbirdy]

Identity Erosion

[goodgirlsdoresearch-deactivated]

[jemocha]

Part 1 of a comic inspired by a story prompt about the monster under the bed actually protecting the child

[jemocha]

Part 2, hope you enjoyed 😄

♥️This was inspired by @kittenwiskers story based on @writing-prompt-s prompt, reblogged on my page right after this post :)

♥️While you’re here, please check out my page

[jaychirps]

So sweet :D

Don’t mind my tears, thanks

[endller]

@gentle-mello-silence!!!!!!!!!!!!

[elizabethgraves]

Oh, oh, damn. 💕

[instructor144]

Damn.

[girlfrommydreamsofyou-deactivat]

Fuck, this made me tear up….

[releasingdemons]

Well if this doesn’t describe my former marriage....

[releasingdemons]

[goodgirlsdoresearch-deactivated]

Supplication (noun): a humble request for help through prayer and invocation.

[littlelainahmonster]

[musingofapoeticsoul]

[suddenlysingle23]

4/8/19

Sometimes church is in a building. And sometimes church is in a cemetery.

I’m so confused. And anxious. Church confuses me more each week. It adds more questions and more misunderstanding to life. The preacher says - Jesus is the one that can satisfy any need if we believe in Him. I believe. Yet, I feel more unsatisfied the harder I believe. The deeper my blind faith is that God’s gonna work this whole thing called life out - the more anxious and unsatisfied I am during the process. And yet, I still believe. Today.

My biggest fear is probably losing that belief. Because if I can have that fear - is my faith even great enough to begin with?

People say that God coordinates things to work out …. that it isn’t ever “just a coincidence” when things work out.

But, I feel like there must be coincidences. Because if God is all loving and all good and all of that …. the one that will satisfy my every thirst…. then why is there so much crap that goes on in the world? Why would I be so important that God would satisfy my soul and fulfill my passion while an infant dies? I’m not better than that baby. I’m not better than you or him or her or anyone else …. I don’t expect that God should give ME special treatment. Somedays I am overwhelmed with guilt for being happy in spite of all the shit - like why should my faith and Jesus make it so

I can be OK and another person that loves Jesus is falling apart? I don’t get it. I don’t get a lot. I feel so alone in this giant universe.

And- I didn’t ever feel this way until after my husband killed himself. After my abusive husband decided to just check out on life. It left so many questions. How many damn times did I pray to God to just take him out of my life? To please let him leave the marriage… but I always, always said “but don’t let him die…. just let him hate me so much he leaves, let him find someone else to go live with, don’t let him die, just make him go away.”

On Sunday, I found myself anxious and distraught after church. It brings me more turmoil than peace recently. And I got in my car and just drove. And drove. And I needed to talk to my husband. I needed my partner.

But, I don’t have one.

And, before I knew it I was at the cemetery. The kids were upset. And I felt bad. But I guess they need to see that mom is human too. And she breaks down but she pulls herself back together.

And, I don’t even know what was happening. It wasn’t like I could even control what I was doing. But, there I was, laying on his grave sobbing. I’m not even sure I miss him enough for all of that nonsense. But, I couldn’t stop. I’m so angry at the universe. And him. Mostly him. Mostly FOR my kids. They didn’t ask to be born into this shitty circumstance. Angry at ME for ever letting my life get so far out of my hands.

I wonder if I didn’t take enough time when this all first happened to fall apart. To sleep all day and cry all day and fall apart completely. I was still processing the days when I just missed my dad like crazy. I often wonder if I should have let myself fall apart a little bit more.