my healing journey

Archive for May, 2012

unable to accept reality

2 days ago ni found out that the uy i thought i had romantic feelings for had domestic violence tendencies in his last relationship.

i also found out for that the past 2 months or so that he’s lost interest in me, and was told this by a friend.

not even from him.

i then had our sex life broadcasted in front of a room oif strangers, hearing about how shit it was, and in short had the most horrible breakup convo i’ve had in a while.

this was someone i had trusted completely.

although i know what happened was for the best, i feel as if i was completely mistaken about this person. he wasn’t who i thought he was. this was someone i had trusted and now they changed and i actually felt scared oif them.

the thing that worries me the most is that if he still had feelings for me, i would probably still have tried to work it out regardless of the domestic violence issue.

these past few months have been a rollercoaster of change and although painful i think it will all work out in the end.

but yh, the ending of any relationship is sad i suppose, more so when you feel that person had changed your life for the better and they turn out to be exactly the thing you’re trying to run away from.

i’m very tired of all this.

Giving up being ‘The Good Samaritan’

Today i hear several disturbing pieces of information, which is probably to due with the fact that alcohol was fuelling the conversation.

I heard from one friend about how she’d sufferred incest as a child and sexual abuse from past lovers and could watch her self-destruct right in front of me.

From another friend i heard of how her gf was threatening to commit suicide if she left her and had hung her self a various number of times in front of her.

From another friend i heard of how her bf/lover/romantic partner was in deep depression and saw the only way out as killing himself and the toll it was taking on my friend.

all in the same day.

then i did something i don’t usually do. i sat there offered my help and suggestions then backed off. instead of attempting to be superwoman and defend everyone apart from myself i didn’t.

i think this is positive.

i now realise i have my own shit to take care of, and distracting myself with the woes of others will not make my problems go away.

Insecurity is an island, but a comforting one.

I am insecure and i know it, and i reek of it. but i can hide it.

But hiding it is not a long term solution. because it will come out in other ways

it already does.

it comes out in rages of jealous, in aggression, in snide remarks, in harsh judgments, in simpering and feeling the need to be liked and accepted. in reversing on my morals , as not to stand out in a crowd. by conforming.

i see what i could be , far , far away.. but i stand back in the shade, hiding because i’m too cowardly to believe it could be me. i have mentally pout barriers in my mind, to stop me from acheiving nthings that are ‘too great’ under the pretence of modesty. i don’t know how to let go of the comfort of ‘just good enough’, of the comfort of self-sabotaging.

i know i get angry or feel threatened in relationships due to things that are not rational to be insecure about. but at least i recognise that the problem is with myself. which is the first step and stop myself from having full blown crazy fits. actually i only have full blown crazy fits with those who feed and encourage my craziness , and almost complement it in their own twisted way.

i have stepped away from these destructive people. and i will continue to step away from them in the future.

i am trying to work on my insecurities, it’s a long , liong road letting go of something that you’ve known and comforted for so long. the belief that you are not worth the same as anybody else, the belief that there is always someone out there who will take your place , the belief that you will never be good enough.

i don’t think i believe this 100% anymore. maybe 98%, 95%.. but it’s not 100%. 

i dont’t know when i became the victim of bullying from others, to the victim of being bullied by myself.

i somehow missed the memo when that transition happened.

good one brain.

Childhood, lost

A childhood,


No hand to drag me from the darkness,

No saviour within.

No comfort. No touch. No love.

Touch uninvited.

Tongue scathing.


No child.

No memory.

No love. Fear.. Fear.

Darkness, No love. Lost

Mummy issues

Today i went to my second counselling appointment. it makes me feel sad knowing how my own mother who was supposed to care and protect me , was so overcome by her own jealously and insecurity that she tried to stop me from attending counselling by attempting to guilt trip me accusing me of taking my first counsellor on as a sort of ‘surrogate mother’ whatever bullshit that is and trying to manipulate me and force me to share details of my counselling with her. if someone has never had any form of relationship with you and has never ,made an effort to, what right does it give them to demand intimate details off you and try and scare you into sharing this information with them?

none. i know this now and i knew it then. which is why i did not share and this made her angry because she did not have power to hold over me, she couldn’t force me to speak. it’s sickening. someone is in a vulnerable position and you want to use that to your advantage to hold on to your own power dynamic in a toxic relationship.

i spoke a lot about my family relationships with my counsellor today. i don’t know if i have the energy to get it all out but i will type about the most pressing issues.

i spoke of how my mother had disappointed me bitterly over and over again. when i was being bullied as a young child my mum dismissed me and told me to shut up. when my dad was physically abusing me my mother kept silent. when i attempted to over dose in front of my mum , she told me to get out of her sight. when my mother found out about my sexual abuse she screamed ‘you are not the only child i have’. 

when my uncle asked on behalf of my mum how she could support me , i have her a chance. she dismissed my needs when i told her what they were. when i my mum asked for proof i was hiv negative i shouted at her asking if she even believed i had been raped. she didn’t reply.

i’m tired of feeling as if i have to make up and excuse my mother’s shortcomings. she is not child. i do not want to be stuck in this power -dynamic forever. even when she is not physically here with me or anywhere near me i still feel panicky and scared and anxious.

it has stuck with me that i am not good enough. that i cannot trust anyone. that people will always make promises and then let me down when i need to be held up. that there will always be mountains of emotional hoops for me to jump through and spectators will laugh at my attempts to reach the impossible. that i am no good. that nobody wants me, not even my mother wanted me. that she wanted me to be homeless at a time when i was most vulnerale. that she accused me of prostituting , when she was aware of my sexual abuse. that she valued the receipt of money over the wellbeing of her own daughter. that she is spineless and an utter shambles and in turn made me believe that i was spineless and an utter shambles.

i do not know if i will ever forgive my mother. all i know is that i want to run away from her and avoid her and never have to see her again.

she gives me nightmares. in a literal sense. i have nightmare daily about my mother. my body rejects sleep because it is in fear of her. even in my sleep i cannot run away from this hold because she still has it.


waving goodbye to my past self

something a friend said to me a few days ago has stuck in my head.

‘sometimes when a person creates an identity of themselves it is hard to let go of that identity’.

i don’t ever think i’ve truly had an identity that i have defined myself. i’ve always either worked ridiculously hard academically in study striving fort straight a’s or worked eually hard at being ‘different’. turning the fact that i don’t actually fit in, into something positive and ‘cool’.

it’s a hard realisation that due to my not being able to sleep and wake up at particular times, that i will have to cut down on my studying and ultimately wave goodbye to any dream of straighr A grades at A level.i cannot physically or mentally pull all nighters and rationally i know it is not worth having a nervous/mental breakdown nin the pursuit of grades. it’s actually painful to have to accept that but i will try to work on it. another piece of my identity broken and lost due to the actions of others. it really sucks when your life is ripped apart due to it not being any fault of your own. but there’s not much i can do about the past really.

i still have insomnia, and sleeping pills are not having much effect any more – i’m still wide awake at 5 am. i still have nightmares when i sleep. i am STILL unable to feel anger towards those people’s whose actions have caused this.

all that’s left to do is try and get on with my recovery the best i can and greive what i have lost and try and be positive in the hope of gaining something new out of all the turmoil.

– ashes to ashes, dust to dust.


I remembered something when i was reading my book on child abuse.

it spoke about how some survivors of csa may fantasize about abusing other children in the same sexual way. while i was reading that i remembered that sometime i used to think of my siblings in a sexual way. not openly. more sort of supressed. but then push the thought away because it was wrong. i also remember reading stories about peadophile rings and chilod porn and subconsciously thinking maybe these actions weren’t so bad. but then snapping out of that and forcing myself to think that it was wrong. because rationally i know it is wrong, deep down i do not know if i believe that. my own belief system sexually has been tampered with so it’s very confusing.

yeah so as i was thinking about this , i remembered before my rape i think one of my grandparents told me that the 2 boys who lived with them were my ‘brothers’. not brothers as in blood brothers but somehow older substitute brothers because i didn’t have any and they were close to my age range. i don’t think this is a false memory because i remember saying to someone i have 2 brothers in nigeria and they are older than me. (actually i just remembered that now), i told that to one of my friends in school. i remember being so happy that i had these ‘brothers’. and often wondering whether in fact they were my real brothers.

so somehow i have experienced almost incest and child sexual abuse.

i connected this link to why in the past i sometimes thought of my uncle in a sexual way, or my siblings. because if it was ‘normal’ for my ‘brothers’ to do this, then it must be ‘normal’ for me to have these thoughts’

I don’t think it was normal at all. No , it’s not normal , it makes me feel sick.

I’ve always had problems with any form of relationship with older men. i always think that the relationship is sexual and find myself acting out and wanting to look ‘attractive’ for older men that i have no actual attraction for and generally feel sick at the thought of imagining them in any sexual way.

I always felt as if i had a duty to look ‘pretty’ for men and to exp[ect them to touch me in a certain way ande not be repulsed.. and to ‘want’ it.

i out myself in dangerous positions on purpose in the past. walking down alleyways, wanting to be harassed by men and be attackled in a sexual way. almost getting excited from the prospect of thinking about it. thankfully nothing has happened to me. actually i don’t know if i am really thankful about that just yet.

recently i find myself avoiding groups of older men, crossing the road and walking faster. i feel threatened when men approach me. i feel compelled to give out my number if men ask for it m, because ‘i have to’. i feel scared when guys try to chat me up or try to talk to me when i walk past them.

i have a weird relationship with men at the moment right now.

Little Children

i went to yoga today. before my lessons there was a kids mixed martial arts class in which i helped out in. i felt sad watching the little kids. they all seemjed so happy and carefree and innocent. and so, really tiny. there was one particular girl there, she was so small and she seemed so trusting of me helping her out even though she’d never met me before.

it makes me sad when i look at little kids because i think that’s what i was like. i was innocent and trusting and carefree and happy. and small, so small. and someone took advantage of that and abused it. 

i don’t understand.

when i look at these little kids i don’t see how someone could view them as an object of sexual desire. believe me i’ve tried, in some sick perverted way to get inside the mind of an abuser and see what is so attractive, but i don’t get that desire. to be honest there’s probably something wrong with me for trying to get into that mindset.

i was sitting down today and thought about something that had been running through my mind for the past few days. 

This will stayu with me forever.

It will not disappear. It will always be there, inside. sick , disgusting and twisted. and i’m the one who has been punished with carrying it for life.

That is if it’s true.

I know it’s true , I just can’t accept it. 

I got a book in the post today. It’s called ‘Breaking Free. Help for survivors of child sexual abuse’. hopefully it will give me some insight


i woke up this morning and i realised i felt heartbroken. This was different to heartbreak i’d experienced before from the ending of relationships. It was weird, difficult to put a finger on. I felt empty. Alone. Exhauseted. Numb.

I wanted to hug myself and cry, to crawl back into bed because i didn’t want to face the day. to continue sleeping my life away. continue feeling fustrated. i was fustrated with myself. yesterday i’d made all these plans with what i was going to do with today and they fell apart. I was bitterly disappointed and felt as if I’d been set back. i didn’t even have the willpower to wake up.

I can’t cry. not right now. it’s like my mind is stubborn. too stubborn to let go and accept. so it keeps me in a constant state of turmoil and anxiety. insomnia and silent despair. 

i feel as if i need to greive the loss of myself but i can’t. so i concentrate on greiving for other people and their problems. but then i found out today that sometime i really just don’t care. some peoples problems surely are nothing compqared to mine. nobody  sits down with me and listens to my bullshit and self-pity so why should i? i don’t know where this anger comes from. then i feel disgusted with not being able to feel emphathy and ashamed for belittling the problems of others.. or do i really? maybe i need to be more selfish.

i went to counselling today. it’s the counselling i’m going to in the meantime before my ‘official’ counselling is set up in 6-12 weeks. ha. nobody can say i don’t try or put in the effort to get better. wait actually people do say that. by people i mean me. i don’t really believe i’m trying. maybe i’m being too hard on myself. maybe i’m not. nothing is ever good enough.

I’m going round in circles. big round wide circles of denial. because i refuse to believe i was raped as a child. that wasn’t me. rape doesn’t happen to people like me.

people like me? yes it does. having intelligence doesn’t make you exempt from rape, or emotional abuse or physical abuse. being smart doesn’t stop you from being vulnerable.

so i fight with myself. and keep trying to keep up the wall that’s keeping my inner emotions out, yet at the same time trying to bring the wall down. i wonder who will win. i’ll observe from the outside.

this is what sorrow is. it hurts so bad that you become immune to feeling it, just because you want to get by.

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