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Rape & Complex PTSD

Discussion in 'Mental & Emotional' started by Survivor, Nov 15, 2004.

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  1. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    The sinking feeling of reality
    panic is felt in a different key.
    F sharp at a guess but no
    thought can
    control the pitch
    This is a feeling that
    is manic
    Petrified with no
    narrative for this.
    I could do with a
    safe cuddle.
    That's not a disguise.
    I don't understand
    These sensations
    a pressure builds in
    my head.
    I swear my heart
    is beating to explain
    a tyre thread.
    Inprints, stir
    a feeling I can't
    avoid.
    This ache is
    leaving a jet stream.
    I'm getting lost
    But only for seconds.
    Then the sinking
    feeling of reality
    bites.
    But I'm not hiding
    I'm not resisting
    I'm shocked this
    is all open & I'm
    walking around.
    My biggest challenge
    now is trying to
    explain what I've done
    to a loved one.
    Because this feeling
    make me feeling
    I'm missing a coupling
    a link to who I was yesterday
    I feel like I've just
    committed to buying
    a wreck of a house
    having sold my ready
    made home.
    I can't undo this
    step I've taken.
    I'm scared this is
    a jolt to my whole life.
    I don't understand
    how nobody knows.
    If I fall asleep tonight
    will I wake like this
    tomorrow.
    Or will my mind seive
    me out,
    Because it can't
    compute what has
    happened.
    Will I be histerical
    in the early hours in
    the morning.
    What on earth would
    I say was wrong.
    I'm soaking in
    reality & no words
    can come.
    This pamaramic
    snap shot of ALL
    is curling around me
    A boa constricting
    sequence.
    is affecting my
    ability to breath.
    Of all the nights
    to be experiencing
    a storm.
    Some triggers never
    cease.
    This free fall
    sinking feeling
    might never ever
    stop.
    What to hold onto
    when I feel
    I'm surrounded by
    equations that
    are written vertically
    all around.
    Yet I can't solve them
    and no one will hear
    me scream.
    Emergency exit
    not sign posted.
    If I was released
    from hospital with
    the injuries I feel.
    I would be readmitted
    and preferably incubated.
    This isn't a metaphor this
    is my mind in the
    balance.
    999 what's your emergency
    "I've fallen through my mind
    and I don't know when or if
    I'll land".
     
    #621 Survivor, Nov 23, 2017
    Last edited: Nov 23, 2017
  2. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    An acceptance
    is born from commitment
    to expose my broken self.
    I know I'm defected
    and belong on an emotional
    scrap heap
    I'm ashamed of my
    concealed trauma
    it suddenly feels
    very wrong.
    I've consumed my life
    containing acts that
    broke my body
    & have now finally
    broken my mind.
    I'm sorry to my family
    for being so weak &
    petrified.
    To all those around me
    who I protected from
    my pain.
    I attributed this ai
    A weakness that
    began within my
    somatic system
    when I was a child.
    It will have happened
    while I went unnoticed,
    From one scene
    of abuse to another.
    With no one to
    define it, let alone me.
    You can't report abuse
    if I is owned by a group.
    I knew then I was
    worthless.
    I know now at
    the core if me
    I still am.
    Your not left
    with any worth
    when your raped again
    & again.
    Tonight I feel
    disgraced to be
    still writing here.
    I promise i have
    paid the price for
    getting lost in my
    mind
    I'm no survivor
    I defected during
    every attack.
    I'm sorry I brought
    this into 2017
    It's down to my
    defect brain.
    Defected by
    shaking
    my convulsive
    way to complain.
    Who sexually abuses
    a nervous system
    that belongs to
    a frightened child.
    Who conceals the
    wickedness that was
    placed inside of me.
    That will be me!
    I still feel wickered
    I still feel dirty.
    Who do you tell
    when your living
    in hell.
    For there abuse is
    a daily occurance.
    It's existance,
    I was conditioned
    to deny.
    You don't stand up to
    the devil, when he's
    controlling your
    pitiful self.
    Occupying my time
    by not being good
    enough.
    I made pretending
    it doesn't hurt an art.
    By the time the
    hounds where released
    I was torn by the beasts.
    I'm sorry they made me
    weak.
     
  3. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    For the first time in my life
    I think I'm going to make
    it through this!
    Feeling Energylz'd
    Love you Giles
    you've never lost
    Faith in me
    & your likes
    & advise have
    seen me through
    my darkest hour.
    Your unconditional
    Non judgemental
    feedback has been
    authentic & lovely.
    I can't thank you
    enough.
    X
     
    #623 Survivor, Nov 25, 2017
    Last edited: Nov 25, 2017
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  4. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    I see a path
    that pathways
    have lead me too.
    The cobbles each
    represent something
    that happened to you.
    I tread a path that
    has been restored
    Up ahead is a
    set of challenges.
    They are linked
    by theme & they
    are a part of a team.
    I will face them alone
    I have not faced them
    before, yet have by
    each been torn,
    I averted my eyes
    I didn't let them
    see. Into the soul
    they where trying
    to defeat.
    There's not enough
    rope to tie me down.
    There's not enough
    tape to shut this mouth
    Wild hearts can't be
    broken.
    This is my battle
    cry.
    And I'm no longer the
    toy you broke.
    i'm standing up
    until each picture
    that freezes me.
    Has been processed.
    You gonna hope I didn't
    remember.
    You did your best to
    knock me out.
    Eyes wide shut
    my mind got stuck.
    Yours would if this
    was happening to you.
    My mind isn't broken.
    It's fragmented by me
    to survive & cope.
    I've walked over these
    fragments, till they
    made me stop.
    They broke the fabric of
    my life now, because you
    did before.
    That was me you
    did that to & me is
    not owned by you.
    I've not quite worked
    out how I'm going to
    be new.
    I kinda a guess it's too
    late for me.
    But I am doing this for
    the next generation.
    The history books need
    to be written.
    I'm dictating my next
    chapter.YOU ALL
    decided to dictate yours
    to me decades ago.
    I never complied,
    I never partook
    I was trapped by a
    nervous system hook.
    You had weapons of
    mass destruction.
    Your nail guns
    caused life altering
    injuries.
    And yet it never affected
    you.
    I'm not healing
    I'm not regenerated
    I'm not just what happened
    to me.
    When I'm allowed to make
    choices.
    I brighten lives & encourage
    personal development.
    You Ble my light out
    & it's taken near on 30
    years for me to
    realise.
    IT NEVER WENT OUT!
     
  5. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    If mad is a definition of not being able to explain.
    I am mad
    If crazy means full of cracks & flaws.
    I am crazy
    If broken means damaged & altered.
    Then I am broken
    Did I make myself mad?
    NO I havn't been able to explain for so long
    I'm moulded by the agony of storing it.
    Did I make myself crazy?
    NO I cracked under pressure & my flaws are my absolute failures at being brave throughout
    Did I break myself?
    NO I was damaged & altered by controlling
    hands.

    Moulded & then fired
    the only new shape will come
    from smashing this vessel
    into a thousand peices.
    Shuffle the dust & stuck
    me back.
    When traumas stepped into
    simply by walking through a
    revolving door. There comes
    a point you not want to any
    more.
    Bite until you feel grounded
    I'm about to blow about
    all I've shrouded.
    Stop wait we can't
    do that now.
    I'll Hoover you up
    and keep you in a
    dust bag for one.
    The most mortifying thing
    to be ashamed of what
    you've been through
    & are still stuck in.
    A broken record,
    I get what you see.
    Only I'm on the inside
    screaming out
    release me!
    It's ok I'm trying to
    do it myself.
    This wild heart
    may already be
    broken.
     
  6. Energylz

    Energylz Moody-rator ©
    Staff Member

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    Awww, thank you.
    Happy to know you and the strength you have shown. You are surely an inspiration to many in the way you have spoken out about your journey.

    All Love and Reiki Hugs
     
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  7. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    Reliving has intensified
    It is disturbing & relentless.
    Without warning my swallow
    ceases to operate.
    As if strangled, my reaction
    is shock, panic & nausea.
    Vivid, intrusive & intensified
    memory knocks my current
    day completely out.
    I fall through time & space
    My body is stone cold.
    Mobility is halted
    I am struggling to respond
    to this need to gasp for air.
    My throat feels stuck
    together from the inside
    like flypaper.
    I can't release it.
    A cough & wide eyed
    panic has me
    in a whole body pain.
    As cells give up their
    memory, my pelvic
    feels exposed again.
    Stone weight
    Stone state
    My body can't
    make sense that
    I'm still alive.
    A pulse in my throat
    as I hold my breath
    has me feel like I'm
    breathing secretly.
    But I'm not, I've held
    my breath, not by choice
    but by the most
    overwhelming emotion
    that has rather taken
    my breath away.
    It's like a tsunami sea
    drawing away from shore.
    It's not coming back.
    It's all going black.
    Like a balloon popped
    next to my ear.
    I jump but don't
    realise fully where I am.
    Sadness washes over me.
    As I still feel death
    sat in my chest.
    When death is a
    surrender call.
    I answer softly
    "Take me home"
    When acts are
    inhumane it's hard
    to ever feel human
    again
    Facing death with
    that much fear, of
    what was happening
    to me while I was living,
    Made death a ceasing
    I would have favoured
    rather than be forced
    a second longer.
    Even though acts
    threatened my life
    I'd rather of died
    as a final NO.
    My throat agrees
    these memories
    are vile.
    I am constantly
    battling to hold back
    bile.
    Gagging, now my
    mouth feels anaesthetised
    I cant feel my swallow
    I don't trust my tongue
    Suddenly my frightened
    ristricts every muscle in
    my throat.
    It's no longer working
    properly, it's getting
    progressively worse.
    I now feel like I've
    swallowed an apple
    whole.
    A new whole body feeling
    washes over with intensified
    fear.
    My hearts in a gallop
    my solar plex screams
    I'm overwhelmed
    by so much in this scene,
    Date, time, repeating my
    name. I'm telling myself
    it's not happening again.
    Then my body shouts
    as if to complain.
    Of cause it is your
    flying in a PTSD
    plane.
    It takes off
    with no estimated
    flight time.
    As for landing
    you have no
    control over that.
    Your not a pilot
    & there's no
    emergency exit.
    So your stuck in it
    and that's that.
     
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  8. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    The fear that I don't exist
    could be that I do?
    when trauma's caught
    in images, feeling & sounds
    too.
    I find myself pleading with
    reality, please don't let this
    all be true.
    The gap between is drawing
    close.
    Denial is slipping
    reality is gripping.
    I'm becoming my
    biggest obstacle.
    As trauma becomes reality
    A nasty side affect is.
    My current day feels
    volatile
    All my relationships
    feel compromised
    When glitches show
    time trauma's face
    I gasp & want to run.
    Not without apologies
    that span from ear to ear.
    That my life has been
    hijacked for as long
    as I can remember.
    And I'm not being asked
    to land quietly
    Rather to nose dive into
    the sea.
    This power comes from
    when they broke into my body
    and pretended I wasn't in.
    And I would gladly stayed
    vacated from the body
    they broke.
    I realise now I largely have
    & in fact being absent
    has its benefits.
    Especially if repeated
    when trauma calls
    you say your out
    but they come in instead.
    No, get out, don't come
    here again!
    They are deaf & often mute
    their focus on themselves
    This past week memories
    have been tugging at my
    sleeve.
    Worse still that have
    broken into my dreams.
    Waking up is no relief as
    this world doesn't seem to
    exist.
    When I am in the past but
    present, I can not see a future
    be.
    Anything less than a sentence
    to PTSD.
     
  9. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    I breath faster
    A flick book
    is flipping by
    I was just
    doing a mediocre
    task.
    Then recall the feel
    of the floor
    Then like a turnstile
    arm.
    I'm recalling a wall.
    Flick, Flip, Fear, Grip.
    Virtual reality, without
    the googles here.
    My eyes recorded
    details that still
    slice through my
    life.
    A slither of what
    was done then
    is too much to
    bare now.
    It Polaroid instants
    with shock waves
    through my body
    The discomfort is
    agitating & annoyance
    A silent impact, with
    no visual marks today.
    And yet this psychosomatic
    pain. Is grinding me down.
    You don't present at the
    dr's looking for something
    for the pain.
    When it is residue from
    injuries sustained.
    These memories are vivid
    there frequent and persistent.
    My sleep disturbed & memories
    clustered. A quickening,
    a speeding tempo, a headache
    to match the bends & memories
    racing like there at brands hatch!
    Nausea & sidden shudders
    feel as though, I'm breaking down.
    Anticipated crash & burn.
    I have no breaks, when will I
    learn.
    A great escape planned, when
    will I learn. I boom to leave
    even when sliding into being
    Frazzled.
    This is what I have learnt to
    do.
    When all becomes too much.
    Split up & fly away.
    Only thing with splitting one,
    is you can't escape in halves.
    I've drawn it out.
    It's so disturbing, a mess,
    an agitating sight.
    If you spill your guts
    it would be a sight of carnage.
    I did in lead & ink.
    i have also created a place
    for my trauma's I would take.
    Only problem with this idea
    is, I still feel they will all
    contaminate & melt into
    each other.
    An image that petrifies me
    because in one form they
    would collapse.
    Pass out, loose consciousness
    may be never speak again.
    Then I remind myself I must
    deal with one at a time.
    The need to breath,
    to stay alive to see this
    through, becomes a
    priority..

    Don't think I'm mad
    I know I'm bad
    I packed my life away
    If I didn't I wouldn't be
    here today.
    Then I could say
    if I hadn't have packed
    my lives away & stayed
    alive. I might not have
    had to do all this again.
    My fault for not coping,
    My fault for checking out.

    Hindsight was an impossible
    thing.
    I couldn't consider what each
    had been through together.
    In some scenes there are no
    signs of life.
    That didn't stop
    them!
    If only I..........
    What could I do?
    Tell who?
    Ii would have been
    abused for being abused.

    The flicker book needs
    a plural look, they are
    bumping in to each other.

    This mental operation
    is performed without
    anesthetic.
    Or if you count sleep
    as a form of one
    can I just say
    I wake during the most
    dangerous part.
    Nothing could out me
    under after that.
    I'd rather stay awake a week
    than see all that before
    my eyes.
    Then I do.

    Therapy Tuesday
    much needed for me.

    Still working my way out if here!
     
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  10. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    I hear a rattle
    A wise mans call
    "These acts are not acceptable at all"
    I hear a cackle
    A rapists call
    "This act is of power & control"
    I don't hear myself
    A young girl who has no call
    " "
    What words could express the horror?

    Therapy today caught my fall
    I surrender all
    Fear & panic dominate
    but finally I have found a
    holding place.
    Where my bones & flesh
    can rest.
    My scars don't need explaining
    It's the pain that grips me now.
    No pressure to explain who crawled
    under my skin.
    I have used lead & ink, to sketch
    a place where wounded souls
    can be safe.
    I'm overwhelmed tonight with sadness
    these souls are covered in bloody gravel
    It's not their knees scraped & wounded.
    The state of them requires action.
    I can't lift their heads, I can't hold their hands
    I can't touch them at all, they're all broken.
    Like a violin bow forced & pushed to an
    bearable tune.
    Torn are the strings that held it together.
    No rehair or repair, it permanently broken.
    ruffled, deformed,an unresolvable shape.
    God, this pain is too much to take.
    There is no remodelling or a trauma reshape.
    This is it, but not quite.
    I have to unravel, but not tonight.
    Back to an image I must hold in my
    mind, of a place we need to keep safe.
    i do hope this sadness, that seems to
    have moved in. Thinks of leaving me
    again someday
    A flood gate opens, I'm engulfed by its
    might. I'm not sure I have the energy
    to hold on tight.
    I've had enough! I'm trying to be tough!
    When I could just collapse.
    How can it be a fact that so much
    time has elapsed.
    Memories are poking me like a
    Bowie knife.
    Cutting me open, but not letting
    them out. Is making me doubt
    I'll ever get out.

    I'm working hard at this!
    If only someone else could get me out.
     
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  11. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    Ink & lead are easing my head.
    When words can't describe
    my pictures arrive.
    They evoke a state that
    only a pen & pencil can
    dictate.
    Once complete my eyes
    fleet.
    I find myself stunned,
    shocked and holding my
    throat.
    The pictures I've produced
    are too much to see.
    Yet they aim to contain
    me & allow me let a bit
    out.
    I've also produced a
    picture to grow into
    A place where all my
    childhood hurts can
    turn too.
    It's taken time for me
    to give them consent
    to go.
    And although produced
    there are no routes yet
    defined as to how they
    get through.
    The thick cloak of
    protection, that I bound
    them in tight.
    so by morning they
    moved on without
    memories or fright,
    Only they didn't move
    on & they are still
    full of fright.
    So a promise to them
    from tonight.
    I will draw you routes
    & passages.
    That will lead you home.
    ink & lead, pencil & pen
    who would have thought
    you,would be my sword.
    I'll cut through webs
    & bring down walls.
    A demolition, before
    it all crumbles down.
    Fear, dread, panic &
    terror, I expected your
    call at a time I am
    promising to make
    us better.
    I feel all of these feelings
    still I will take a step
    forward.
    The strength I've found
    quickly falls to the ground.
    I guess it will until the pathways
    are drawn.
    Pen, pencil, lets try real hard.
    I'll be the narrator of this
    next chapter thanks X
     
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  12. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    Labyrinth
    Wizard of Oz
    Alice in wonderland
    NO
    But I'm running down
    holes & walking along
    paths.
    With fear in my being
    & courage a desire.
    I'm climbing up
    & then walking down.
    I see door ways I
    no long fit in.
    I did when I was small
    Then without warning
    I shrink into pictures
    so vivid & clear.
    Then when I remember
    I'm big, I become tall.
    Only I'm not outside
    I'm stuck in this room.
    I can't get out &
    I'm trapped, trapped, trapped.
    I'm staring at the looking
    glass & a stranger stares back.
    Panic & confusion
    I'm lost in time.
    Have I gone mad?
    I'm afraid so.
    This is real
    This is my life
    I walk through a door
    that I'm sure leads
    somewhere I know.
    Only when it opens
    I'm right back where
    I started,
    The little me, won't let
    my big me go.
    This is frightening
    I'm in real life
    No scenes can be cut
    no one really knows
    all the scenes that
    keep plaguing my life.
    It's a huge responsibility
    carrying this knowledge
    Especially when I'm lost
    In it & no one knows
    where I am.
    There's sign posts all
    around that courage me
    to quit.
    Some say go this way
    Others say don't you dare.
    The most chilling instructions
    are graffitied on the wall.
    They tell me I'll die if I
    proceed.
    DANGER this next
    path is a minefeild.
    you try to open up
    & we'll literally
    take your guts.
    You can't stand if we
    blow off your legs.
    Wounds ache from
    previous shrapnel.
    I'm in a hole that
    just opened beneath
    me.
    Men surround me
    and push me around
    in a ring.
    Tattoos are pressing
    up against my skin.
    I'm collapsing, as my
    legs give way.
    I'm to young to
    be thought of this way.
    I'm sorry, I'm breathing
    I'm sorry I'm female.
    clearly my being is
    a terrible mistake.
    stop him
    you stop too
    these words won't
    come out I'm locked in
    my head.
    Petrified looks like
    a child screaming
    I'm already dead!
    It's not a film your
    share with your
    mum & dad.
    i'm not in the labyrinth
    Alice in wonderland
    or the wizard of oz.
    I'm in a life that still
    exists despite all
    the odds.
    Only living lately
    is often suddenly
    suspended.
    As existing hangs
    on while my abducted
    mind, walks further
    into the core of my soul.
    There sorrow is heavy
    like a 100 weigh of coal.
    These feelings are
    over whelming they choke
    me too.
    Pictures & feelings are
    making me leak.
    I wonder what price is on
    my tongue.
    I can feel the arrow driven
    straight through my heart.
    I sense the quickening of
    plot closing in.
    There's connections that
    are now completely fused.
    Like a transformer made of
    different men as parts.
    This combination won't be
    seperated till they rip out my
    heart.
    Still it is trying to run fast.
    HP my anchor, as a stormy
    sea awaits.
    Without you as a harbour
    We surely would have sunk.
    I'm keeping my eyes wide
    shut.
    And no one I trust!
     
  13. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    Drawing is tough
    The lead & graphite
    is etching out what's in
    my head.
    Once held back by the
    lack of words.
    These sketches have me
    closely fixed on minute
    detail & precision.
    Only when I pan out
    I can not cope.
    My focus is averted
    & I hold my throat.
    It's sealed again
    with suggestion I
    try to break this
    state.
    I move & stretch
    my neck.
    It's not released but
    tears are.
    I'm not able to swallow
    them down.
    I try so hard not
    to close my eyes
    I don't want to go
    there.
    I'm exhausted
    I'm vulnerable
    There's a new sensation
    a new intense agitation.
    It the pit of my stomach
    I can't lay down.
    It's more intense
    I am desperate to run
    in the cold.
    I've grounded myself
    to keep me safe.
    The pull is strong
    the desperation peaked
    I'm shaking & chattering
    my teeth.
    I walk in & out of doors.
    I close them behind me
    My eyes are chasing
    right then left.
    This image holds
    a feeling that has
    me hold my breath.
    I'm trying so hard
    to literally push the
    air out of my chest.
    It's hard combating
    the trip that it has.
    It's confusing &
    chaotic, when I move
    abou.
    Then freeze takes over
    I'm worn out.
    I stare into space
    my ears buzzing
    Eyes wide open
    they stream but
    no movement at all
    they roll down to my
    ear that now lays on
    my pillow.
    I'm stating, the date,
    time, season & my name
    In my head.
    Convincing my nervous
    system, it's past & not
    present.
    But it feel present
    as preset as can be.
    Catatonic state
    please don't take me
    to that.
    I'm trying hard to break
    these recalls, so it's bound
    to give me new sensations.
    Only tonight they feel familiar
    & trigger a panic attack.
    I think I'm going to need a
    GP check.
    My blood pressure is spiking
    though I'm on medication for
    that.
    Although I guess I have to
    feel this to heal that.
    If only my index files in my
    mind were not overcrowded.
    I go to file this & in the file is
    another that.
    I will keep going, i will, I will.
    I pray for ebb & flowing to
    please come my way.
    This freezing & numbing is
    like a faulty automatic brake
    Though my body tonight
    is screaming at me to take
    heed.
    The last time you ended up
    with your kidneys conking out
    oh god don't let my body
    fail me now.
    Please help me balance my
    mind, body & soul.
    When treatment means
    turning you upside down &
    inside out.
    Being left upside down
    & the wrong way round.
    Is no wonder.
    I'm juggling
    I have been for an age
    what if I drop all the parts
    of me & collapse on the floor?
    I feel like someone is instructing
    me to complete an open heart
    surgery on myself.
    Then panic, pain & fear take
    over me.
    And this week I have followed
    all the instructions & used all the
    tools.
    And to top it all off there's no guarantee
    that I'll pull through this after I've
    done all I can.
    Heavy heart don't threaten me
    I've got no choice, I've started
    opening my chest.
    There's no going back.
    Let's face it I came in this world
    alone & I'll leave it alone.
    And throughout this journey I'm
    alone. So am I worth it?
    Am I worth all this?
    I here cogs move to going away
    at me more. I follow this train of
    thought to understand me more.
    What if a beautiful release is only
    around for me in another form.
    I mean let's face it I've been carrying
    this for near on 30 years.
    I'm a fighter, I have strength but
    it all feels futile.
    I've really had enough of this
    I hope this is because it's
    getting really tough.
    As if I needed another battle
    within my head.
    With a little voice saying
    "I'm scared I'm not that tough"
    I can't live leaving it like this
    so tough or not, I'm stuck.
    I mean really I feel like saying
    enough is enough.
    Don't think me weak
    Don't think me a coward.
    I'm having a bad day
    I'm tired, I'm burning out.
    I'm shattered & weary.
    I'm fed up of having to
    muster more fight
    More stop & no!
    I'm angry it's me
    who still has to break
    free.
    Where the hell are they?
    Why can't they carry their can?
    The tragedy of this is I may
    never be free.
    Panic again
    I could rip myself up
    I don't know when this is
    all going to end.
    I didn't then
    Flashback
    feeling intensified.
    When present &
    past again collide.
    This is the roller coast
    and I can't get off.
    What I would give for a
    lazy river.
    It won't ever get one if
    I don't see this through
    I need to rest & recoup.
    Sorry this balance is not
    yet here.
     
  14. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    Two more pictures drawn today
    layers that are defined
    now encrypted so to protect me.
    If I could spell this out in ice &
    then drop it in boiling water
    until it evaporates.
    I will have found a way to
    let this out, without anyone needing to know.
    Only thing with this private arrangement is,
    it demands I have an escape plan.
    You see I'm encrypting the way in.
    This isn't something I can put down,
    or put away.
    I just hope I don't forget the code
    when I'm not awake.
    Why then am I writing this here.
    You would if you had any idea.
    I'm trying to keep safe.
    I know I return here, even when I
    try not too.
    Because this place is always open
    24/7.
    My worry is one day I won't be
    able to get here .
    But if I leave something here
    for me to collect when I can.
    I'm not lost.
    Don't worry I've not gone mad
    this is anxiety & panic at its
    loudest sound.
    When you fear for your life
    you need anchors to tether too
    this is an anchor I might use
    even when I can't get here.
    Becsuse in the most personal
    of posts i am so raw, actual
    factual & honest.
    I bank it here, mostly with fear.
    That if I ever disappear
    I'm technically still here
     
  15. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    I understand more now
    things that broke my code,
    led a 15 year old girl to
    desperately take control.
    Who'd of thought I still
    didn't have all the answers
    to all that I have done to survive.
    Well it's simple, it was my
    automatic nervous system
    that called the shots.
    I didn't have any indication
    what was coming for me.
    I had no control once it came.
    And no control after it left.
    Only it never ended.
    30 years on & I am learning
    how to ground myself from
    the total recall.
    I have been trapped in their
    encrypted behaviour, I
    still am today.
    I didn't understand it then
    I definately don't understand
    it now.
    What I do learn now is
    so profound. I am left
    astound.
    The most shocking is the
    fear to speak.
    I still gasp at reality.
    Why, because I have
    tried so hard to deny it.
    For all of my life.
    To the point that I
    struggle with the idea
    I have one (a life that is)
    Whats haunting me
    is what men confessed to me..
    No wonder I went into
    the professions I'm in.
    I take my roles very seriously
    As do I "doing" my job, to the
    best of my ability.
    So when my past collided with
    me in my role.
    I had no choice but to respond.
    It's the things that will never
    collide with my roles, that are
    the ones I have recall &
    quickly scramble into code.
    The pictures I draw expose them
    even when I can't.
    As my pictures become clearer.
    I loose a medium of expression.
    Because what is sat static in
    front of me. Is connected to
    my heart.
    I panic, yet I settle, then I feel
    guilt I let them out.
    I feel like taking them & storing
    them in vaults around the world.
    Maybe through this post you
    can see a frightened child.
    Who was exposed to terror
    that is being exposed.
    I didn't out it there
    I didn't accept it
    I closed my eyes
    So I didn't touch it.
    I resisited with rejection
    I used everyone of my cells
    to block it out
    hell I tried starving it
    from air.
    In the end I didn't care
    if my earthly being had to
    be executed, I would
    regain control, by doing it
    myself.
    Flashbacks,arn't just pictures
    they are not just sound,
    of late they have been of
    feelings that had me rather
    drowned.
    When the fear of then
    meets the fear of now
    And the men that planted
    it are all around.
    Forgive me for feeling so
    overwhelmed.
    What I've failed to mention
    here is a murderous toil
    that works its way toward
    me.
    Don't think me weak, if
    I sometimes speak, of not
    being.
    It's a terrible storm that
    prevents me have having
    a norm.
    In fact it's raged on for as
    long as I can remember.
    With the absence of a
    safe harbour & pirates
    at my back.
    I sometimes have this
    feeling that I cannot float
    any more.
    And at the moment I
    can't even come ashore.
    So while at see, I call to thee.
    And share what state I'm in.
    Only now I know I need to say
    more. But a force field is
    all around me.
    It's energised by those
    men who hurt me.
    Enforced by a collective aim.
    Once you've been fenced in
    to a rape ring.
    You never leave!
    They didn't let me then
    & they certainly won't know.
    Many will see them aging
    I see them as they are in my
    flashbacks.
    It doesn't take much to feel
    threatened, once you've been
    attacked.
    There names alone does that.
    i've reached a point of no return
    though.
    Therapy has done that, I started
    producing pictures to provide me
    with a place to be contained.
    I did do that, only since then
    the back stories have seen that
    And they need to be produced
    to show how much needs containing.
    At this moment in time, I can't explain
    that in words because that can't be taken
    back.
    So pictures come in coded form
    no words or voice will be attached.
    But they are choking me & haunting me.
    As I know they're coming out,
    Then a fleeting thought to detroy
    them & literally I realise.
    They are coming out & I don't have
    control over that.
    My automatic system is over riding,
    I can't deny there content, on the contrary
    they are fact.
    No wonder I encrypted them all, except today
    seemed to see to that.
    Automatic drawing seems at the moment to be
    an addictive craft.
    I guess it's feeding off desperation to
    keep my mind intact.
    There has come a point this weekend
    that I can't hold back & then the only way I can is
    a drastic final act.
    No wonder I feel like "tell anyone & your dead"
    Isn't that a given when you've previously been
    left for dead?
     
    #635 Survivor, Dec 11, 2017
    Last edited: Dec 11, 2017
  16. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    The silencer
    so much control
    To quieten the
    broken soul
    It doesn't take
    much
    to take my breath
    I gasp at my
    memories breadth
    It's too vast for
    me at this time
    I can't imagine it
    being defined
    for as long as
    I am owned
    i guess it will remain
    untold.
    Where to send
    an open letter?
    Irony is I'm
    about to burst.
    I hate this part
    of me
    It's against the
    grain.
    It's embarrassing
    I'm a grown adult
    but what I hold on
    too is what happened
    as a child.
    There are many
    Who have shared
    there grace
    I still see it as a
    big disgrace.
    She broken down
    pressed her toe
    into her shoe.
    While,others
    pressed her too.
    She closed her
    eyes
    She sealed her lips
    Salty tears
    are a risk.
    Don't move a muscle
    She freezes still when
    memories rufled.
    Filth & grime
    a sexual crime.
    I scold myself
    I carved a clue
    I am haunted
    by your cackle
    ridiculed by the
    web that bound
    A child's body
    for you to crush
    to rip & your tore
    so bad yu mad me
    sure
    No parent of mine
    would have saw.
    How could they when
    home was a constant
    war.
    "Shut up or I'll give you
    Something to cry about"
    "Grab that pillow place it
    before your eyes
    didn't watxh them
    kissing you little whore"
    "I'm not dad I swear"
    I'll touch the wall
    I'll stare at the light
    I'll become invisible
    tonight.
    I'll scrape the paint
    off my bedside cupboard
    under my nails sharp
    shards accumulate
    They remind me I'm
    still alive, its not too late
    Don't respond
    "Bye baby bunting
    daddies gone a hunting"
    tomorrow I'll build a barricade
    I'll stack my stuff so high
    in place of the door.
    My stomach aches
    I feel real sick
    I'm lost in space
    A,white room...
    I swore I wouldn't put it
    here.
    The facts that are
    too much to fear.
    But as I board a plane
    real soon
    I sense this place may be
    a tomb.
    Murderous the theme
    consumes, my opening
    up will end in flames.
    There isn't anything he
    Wouldn't do!
    Retreat
    React
    contract
    I'm pushing myself
    to the point of no return
    a break through, a belt
    or a shoe?
    When he is but a controlling
    man. He'll drive you to another
    clan.
    Normalised behaviour, is the
    opposite to being your saviour.
    Underneath they'll all prey on
    you.
    I'm afraid to say me is you,
    Dig yourself a hole now.
    Six feet deep & a third
    wide. Now hold your breath
    and close your eyes. I
    can't remember how many
    times I'd rather be buried alive.
    Looking forward to a tragic end.
    Made living a means to an end.
    Each birthday passed with an
    anticipated departure.
    Instead I had to live life over
    & after.
    "Please release me let me go,
    I've done my time for which
    you only know"
     
  17. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    Only pictures can paint the pain
    No words could give understanding
    or explain.
    I'm restricted now
    I can't express any more
    yet there's more to express
    I feel unrest, an anticipated
    strike, acid, fire, guns or knife.
    This feeling of impeding doom
    has me enter a darkened room.
    It goes around and around,
    because I zapped it in a ghost
    busters tin. Don't judge my method
    it was all I had!
    The tune had me consider
    "who you gonna call?"
    Anonymously I tried a few.
    Don't you see I buried me
    I buried me with the men who
    hurt me.
    In exhuming I dug too deep
    I came across smaller me's
    who couldn't speak
    I panicked I covered them
    up.
    I still feel as if I have committed
    a crime. Hiding children in
    the depths of my mind.
    I can see myself in an institution
    rocking & repeating.
    I'm not mad, I'm just holding
    the bad, as if it where my toxic
    waste. It is in a way, it's scenes
    you wouldn't get less that a xxx
    rate. Never to be seen, never to
    be shared. Destroy at all cost.
    Am I sick because I keep the
    tapes of so many states?
    The most petrifying fact
    is if I lost my memory
    I would keep them all for
    eternity.
    Bound by the most destructive
    comments.
    Bound by the hate of a controlling
    man.
    Bound by acts of power & destruction.
    Bound by facts that I have been forced
    to know.
    Bound to the unspoken, the unseen &
    unknown.
    Silenced by knowledge that makes me feel
    I watched the crimes.
    How do you escape a regime that didn't
    take me down with one blow.
    But rather took a peice of me, unpredictably
    & for so many times iscolated.
    The bigger picture only dawned when my
    life was actually being taken.
    So many injuries came before.
    Physical, emotional, sexual, total
    powerlessness & all profoundly
    denied.
    They tore me down
    They forced what i seen.
    They forced what I did
    They forced me to the point of
    neural damage. That I can't get
    out.
    The pages, pictures, feelings & twitches
    All form a seizure I get more & more often.
    But worst of all, is the implanting
    of a self destruct button that
    begs me to press it, so to free me.
    An illusion that is so very often not
    seen. I step on it often.
    Ironically I can't give it back to them.
    I don't have it on me to give this
    to anybody.
    So I must dispose of this toxic waste
    But it's in my body & mind.
    So my desposing requires me to
    come up with a plan.
    How I despise of it where it can
    never again be found.
    And so the depth of the oceans
    out ways the journey to space.
    I can get to water, but I can't get
    to space.
    I don't think I'm the first to be
    desposed of this way.
    Now it frightens me to be
    talking this way.
    But I can't Unknow what I know.
    When I explain with words
    they lead to an undesired
    ending. When I draw they
    are static & literally can't
    be entwined.
    Instead of destroying them
    I think they can be left behind.
    Oh his my drawings traumatise
    me & how desperate once complete
    I barely see.
    And yet when I am unraveling
    they rise & force me to see
    with my outside eyes.
    This is when it grips me with
    fear. I'm every age I've ever been.
     
  18. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    Or am I every age
    I've never been
    So many back stories
    Name a criminal
    watch an interview with
    neighbours
    He was such a lovely
    guy.
    Jekyll and hyde
    Being cruel is
    taken in his stride.
    I have an essay
    I'm not allowed to
    even begin
    On the outside it
    must be hard to tell.
    That life has been
    a living hell.
    The living hell
    was formed before
    I was born.
    The gift of a child
    was not as it seemed
    the childless couple
    blessed at last
    It sure was a miracle
    the pregnancy last
    Born into control
    How does a baby
    cope with that
    I'll have to leave it
    at that.
    Cruelty inflicted
    with a position of
    power over threw
    my living desire
    Back stories I can
    spill them here.
    I need to draw
    and let them out
    there.
    Im sick of myself
    trying to tidy this
    madness into
    neat piles
    There's nothing
    organised in me
    I've got to get
    it out so I can
    see all of me
     
    #638 Survivor, Dec 13, 2017
    Last edited: Dec 13, 2017
  19. Survivor

    Survivor Active Member

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    When your life has been
    one long storm
    You get real used to
    tornado's lifting you
    up out of your life.
    And sometimes they don't
    put you back where
    you started.
    And then you might have
    several tornado's come at
    you one after the other.
    They spin your life around
    and your thrown out
    somewhere completely
    unrecognisable.
    When I then choose to
    go up in the air by plane
    I really believe I'm not
    going to land where I think
    And as for getting back to
    Where I started it feels
    impossible.
    CPTSD is the result of
    too many tornados.
    And as I was born in
    a storm. I may never
    experience stillness.
    Because before every
    tornado I was still.
    During every tornado
    I was still.
    But I was ripped up
    into someone else's
    power & control.
    I guess stillness feels
    like, if I allow the quiet
    I am going to be
    consumed by another
    storm.
    When people ask how
    I am they see sunny
    days & rainbows.
    They might have learnt
    about A storm.
    But they talk to me like
    it's over.
    Tonight sat on my settee
    I am watching TV
    my surroundings drip
    away. I'm in a tornado
    I am removed from my
    seat, panic exhaustion
    pain & dread. My heart
    is now only listening to
    one part of my head.
    It's racing.
    I'm completely
    unaware a cup of tea
    has spilt on me.
    No one saw the tornado
    come for me.
    No one saw it go.
    It took half an hour for
    me to realise the tea
    was real & not a
    phsychosomatic
    experience.
    So another flight
    this weekend.
    Panic grows!
    As other passengers think
    about turbulence
    I worry about triggering a
    tornado in my head.
    The flight finishes
    and they sigh with relief
    The flight lands &
    I then begin to fear I will
    not allow myself to
    loose consciousness
    tonight & sleep.
    The first night away from home
    is a phenomenal terror
    If I do drop off I will
    wake 3-4am and no one
    & nothing feels real.
    The silent buzz of night
    drives me insane.
    My PTSD flashbacks
    are not visual
    they are the feeling
    of powerless
    Immobile, stuck
    trapped & as they escalate
    I'm dead, I'm cold, my teeth
    chatter, my body jolts,
    my blood creeps around,
    my swallow freezes &
    I want for nothing more than
    to be released.
    But I can't speak.
    Why have I booked a flight
    or boat straight after the last
    trip through trauma hell.
    Because everytime I
    feel defeated & retraumatised
    I swear I'm going to beat it
    next time.
    I was defeated at Easter
    and had to return home as
    terror took me to a greater
    height! in spite of that!
    I'm not staying still
    I'm not refusing to move forward
    I'm fighting every second of
    everyday & have been for the last
    two years in particular.
    To free myself
    See myself
    Be myself.
    But in doing so I have had
    to endure what I see in my selves
    that I entombed until it was
    safe to come alive.
    Only when it became safer
    the tombs fell open one after
    the other & made it very unsafe.
    I'm still here "Women not dead"
    "Women fighting for life"
     
  20. Energylz

    Energylz Moody-rator ©
    Staff Member

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    Do you not feel that there is some stillness, even if momentarily, whilst you are writing your verses here; those moments between thoughts when your attention is on typing your words?
    It may be very small moments, hard to perceive, but I'm sure they must be there.
     
    Survivor likes this.

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