Poetry


I have watched your path. 

I see it is wide. 

I see the darkness that befalls you.

You hide behind the screen

This man of cloth who has given absolution. 

He is

But a man.

The rules of him do not apply to me.

In him, this man, nor you, do I believe. 

As you go forth and commit your sin

Again

And again.

He who knows NOT what you do

And forgives you

KNOWS NOT WHAT YOU DO.

Plead as you might.

The truth watches from above.

From a greater height.

The narrow path is mine.

You made your choice,

And will be eaten 

By the night. 

Poetry

I’m crazy

I’m delusional

I’m a liar.

I’m a fraud

I’m malicious

I’m callous.

I’ve malice

In every thought.

The truth,

I just forgot.

I’m angry

I’m rageful

I’m intentional in my hurt

I’m hateful

I’m vengeful

In my every word.

That is what you’ve heard.

Right?

If I claim my words true

Could you finally sleep tonight?

Do you find comfort in these lies?

Oh,

False followers of Christ.

You follow one another

Not the divine.

And I will not claim those words to be mine.

I walk in the light.

I walk with the Lord.

Ever dodging the Devil’s sword.

The words that emerge from my lips

Do come with consequence.

I know this.

I watch my fingertips

Type this very verse

I’ve voiced my deepest hurt

In so many of my words.

They will call you crazy

They will call you names

They will gossip about you

All in vain

They will make outrageous

Claims

I know

Because I’ve been attacked by

All of the

Theys.

The theys  will all think

I’ve written this about them.

It’s the sign of such guilt in men

And women.

Wracked with their own set of sin.

So enough of them.

This I know is true,

I am imperfect.

I am flawed,

And I am honest through it all.

I am emotional

I am panicked

With anxiety and fear.

I am loving

I am empathetic

I am authentic and sincere.

I am loyal

I am protective

I am torn.

I am prayerful

I am broken

I am truthful to the core.

I am powerful

I am courageous

I am a child of God.

I am faithful

I am giving of unconditional love.

I am able to fight against the Devil’s tongue.

I will not submit even if they think they’ve won.

They will come for you

Their darkness

Their lies

The people who perpetually deny.

But I say in confidence

You will be okay.

I’ll stand beside you,

Together we will slay.

We will stand in strength

In the light of almighty God.

We will rise

Above them all.

You and I

Will

Not

Fall.

It isn’t your fault there are just too many bad people!

Triggers*

Do you know why bad things happen to good people? Because there are a LOT of bad people. I am not unique that they have only descended upon me either. The bad didn’t hone in on just me. It is everywhere and so many people have been through trauma after trauma because there are frankly TOO MANY BAD PEOPLE!!! 

I was watching mindless TV last night…don’t judge me now…I was watching… The Bachelor. Out of the hundreds of things that stood out to me as irritating, sexist, demeaning, one thing always takes the cake with that show. The word “terrifying”. They use it every other sentence. It is “terrifying to think he may not choose me,” or “terrifying to go ont his journey”. People, you have no IDEA what terrifying is. Really, it is an insult to individuals everywhere who have experienced terrifying. 

I got off topic, bad people everywhere. It seems everyone wanted a piece of me. I don’t know why. I will never know why. My best childhood girlfriend, my middle school, guy friend, and my list goes on. Whenever someone got me alone they took. As a child, I didn’t realize they were taking. I learned today in therapy that I dissociated at a very young age. I coped in a way that children do. I had to. When your brain leaves, and it becomes repetitive, wires get crossed. My wires were crossed at a young age. Because of that, when something happens now, unexpectedly, the same PTSD response is brought forward by my brain. Today my therapist and I worked on some reprogramming. We discussed an event where I experienced PTSD, froze, and was unable to speak. She took me through a simple exercise where I relived that moment and changed the ending. She gave my box fan as an example. My box fan burned up the other morning. I woke up to a smokey room, jumped up, threw the fan out of the bedroom window, aired out my room, then felt the calm that comes when then “fight or flight” is over. Smelled smoke, alert, reacted, tossed fan out, resolved problem, felt calm. This is what should happen in fight or flight, but with me it doesn’t. I don’t come back down. My anxiety, brain, and  nervous system stays on activation setting,and  hypervigilance. After the phone call that upset me last week, it took me 3 days to calm down. So in therapy today, we relived that scenario with an ending that allowed me to speak and not experience dissociation or PTSD. After doing that exercise I was so angry. I have PTSD because of bad people! So many bad people. How unfair! And I would have told this guy who called me to shove his words up his ass had I not been molested for half childhood. I know, after abuse what being “terrified” means. So The Bachelor girls need to get a grip and stop using that word.

We don’t live on fluffy clouds. No one can live in such denial that they think life is unicorns and fairies. But my parents did. They thought it was “safe” to send their little girl to an old man’s house alone every week. They thought it was a good idea to let their daughter go to a ski camp run by men and live with them men while there, alone. They thought it was ok to take their little girl to Costa Rica and not keep her safe. I was never safe because I was tossed into the fire and no one did anything as I burned. What did they think would happen? Just throw caution to the wind? Eh, lets hope for the best? And none of my family, those  fuckers can even say they are sorry for anything that ever happened to me. So I felt unsafe and unprotected. And after multiple men had had their way with me as a child, I had PTSD. Do you think I for a second will let them off the hook for that? Make excuses to make their lives easier? No way. They suck for tossing me to the wolves and acting as if they had no idea all of the bad people were tearing me apart bit by bit. 

When those bad people attacked me and my parents found out about it, IF they had wrapped me up in their loving arms, I would have known how it felt to have BAD and then GOOD again. They didn’t. I never knew how to experience something bad that ended with me feeling safe and protected after. It was not then surprising that after I was attacked 10 years ago by my friend’s husband that I did not say a word. I MAY have seen warning signs with him but I had no inner guide because my youth broke my brain. I walked right into the fire on my own with no clue I would get burned. A bad man found me again. Experiencing abuse as an adult is completely different than experiencing it as a child. For me at least. I experienced shame and guilt at a level I had never experienced before. Because of the abuse as a child, I had no way other than slipping into PTSD coping skills. And THAT makes me very angry. Had I never been abused as a child, I have no doubt I would have seen the signs of this man earlier than I did. Just like the phone call last week. Had I never been abused I would have just told this pathetic piece of shit that he was just that. But I couldn’t. 

Abuse held me hostage. 

Abuse left me vulnerable.

Abuse created PTSD.

Bad people created PTSD. 

Abuse left me vulnerable and not knowing what safety feels like.

My parents could have protected me from 90% of the things that unfolded in my life. They didn’t. And I despise them for that. Not only did they provide direct access to me by bad men constantly, they never held any accountability, nor did they ever try to make me feel safe again. They picked at me, demeaned me, ignored me, then blamed me. I was surrounded by bad. It is a miracle that I made it this far, alone. 

I lived my childhood in a constant state of hypervigilance. Is it so surprising I don’t know how to NOT be in that state now. I lived my childhood feeling dissociated due to constant abuse. Is it surprising that I respond with that coping mechanism when feeling threatened now. After making it through ALL of that, another bad man came. Because there are bad people everywhere. What a rollercoaster living constantly hypervigilant and then freezing and being paralyzed when something bad does happen. Never feeling safe and protected at the hands of so many men is it so surprising that I freeze when a delusional person from my past calls me and attacks with cruelty. None of my behavior is a surprise. I have been a victim of abuse and trauma more times than I can ever count. There are consequences to that. Consequences I have to live with and try to work through.

Why did those bad things happen to me? I am a good person. Because none of it had anything to do with me. It never did. But I have to deal with the trauma of others actions against my body. That attack on my body misfired my brain and it is going to take a long time to work through that. It is going to take a long time to process the past so that it does not affect me so intensely in the future. Looks like my therapist and I will be going through it one event at a time and creating a better outcome than what I once felt. An outcome where I could speak. An outcome where I was embraced and loved after the bad people took. All of those takers. They just took and took and took. They tried to take away the good in me. They wanted a piece of me. I don’t know why. I can’t change what they took. I can just try very hard to rebuild. Right now, I really hate the takers, and I am ok with that. I hate those who didn’t fight for me and protect me. My family who abandoned me when they heard the full truth, I hate them. Hate them for blaming a victim. Hate them for being cowards. I hate my childhood friends who took a piece. I hate the man in costa rica who took from a 14 year old. I hate Billy Banks for destroying my childhood and everyone who stood behind him. I hate david bloomquist for locking me in his garage and I hate his wife for blaming me. I hate my brothers for not making me a priority. I hate every member of my family that made me feel I didn’t matter. I hate that they critiqued my looks so relentlessly that I starved myself. I fucking hate all of them. Every person who took a piece and left me with shattered shards. In this particular circumstance, hate is a good thing for me. It allows me to feel. To not be numb. Feeling is good. The hate wil pass. Those people will become as insignificant as they truly are. But right now I am pretty angry that I cant cope with a damn phone call because of a disorder, caused by bad people, which could have been prevented with parents who were even slightly aware. They may not have abused me themselves but in their inaction they did in their own way.

I am not unique in my experiences with countless bad people or the PTSD that it caused. 

I know you are all out there, good people,, who have suffered at the hands of bad people. I am hoping as you read this you know that you are not alone in this battle. You are not alone struggling to breathe, struggling to find yourself, and struggling to hang on to that tiny piece hope that is just out of reach. I am right here fighting through it with you. I know abandonment, I know loss, I know desperation and desolation. Know that if I could I would wrap each of you in security and safety and tell you that none of it was your fault. It is a battle to overcome all of the trauma, just know you aren’t in it alone. I’m battling right there with you. 

You matter. 

I know what they told you. I know how they made you feel.

I know how it feels to not matter. I know how it feels to not belong. I know how it feels to have no one running to save you but instead running from you to leave you fighting all on your own.

They said that you aren’t good enough. They said you aren’t worth it. They said you are something you are not.

I know how it feels to feel so small that you don’t think anyone will ever sift through to find you. I know how it feels to watch everyone turn their backs. I know how it feels to sit alone crying, praying, for just one person to believe in you.

They chose their path. They chose to hurt, desert, and abandon. That is on them. Their choice is no reflection you. It is a reflection on them. They do not assign your value. They do not take away your worth. They only take away their own. And that is on them. Those who chose to blame and walk away when you needed them most is no reflection of you. IT IS NO REFLECTION ON YOU!!!

You matter. You are special. You are strong. You are brave. You are valued. They cannot see it. I do. They don’t matter anymore. They can keep walking their own path. It doesn’t involve you. It never did. You made it through without them. Their choices are not on you any longer. Their choices are there’s and there’s alone. You deserved more, better. So do I.

I know what they told us. I know how they made us feel. We can now rise above them and their words that were never true. We matter. We always did. They didn’t see it. That is their loss. But it is nolonger ours.