BeautifulDisaster
March 10th, 2010, 10:12 AM
Triggering for abuse.
Flashbacks of my cousin telling me to go into an empty room, & he pulled his pants down, & he told me to touch it, & I did, & he kept wanting to touch mine, & he did, & whenever he said let's go now, he wants to do it now, I'd get scared & I'd get anxious & I didn't want to go, I knew it was wrong & I wanted someone to make it stop, so we couldn't do it anymore, I hated it.
I remember his Dad catching us, he slapped me.
I remember everyone thinking it was my fault, everyone thinking what a dirty whore I was.
:cry2:
Flashbacks of my step brother sitting on me & pulling his pants down & sitting on my face & stopping me from going anywhere & holding me there as I tried to move away.
Flashbacks of my mother telling me she wishes I was in care, & that it's my fault, & that she wishes she never had me, & that I'm a mistake, & getting arrested & her threatening the police, I remember feeling scared, vulnerable, alone.
I remember C not even caring & laughing as I tried to put the blanket over her & told her to help me, she didn't.
I remember wanting it all to stop.
Just wanting a sober, loving, caring mother.
Just wanting her to pick me instead of the drink for once.
Flashbacks of the music.
I knew that she'd be drunk if she turned on that song.
I'd walk in & she'd be dancing & drinking & slurring her speech, I'd get scared & I'd go back to my room & wait for the music to stop & for her to go to bed.
Flashbacks of her screaming & hardly conscious.
I had to call an ambulance & my Grandad.
I had to take care of her.
I had to always take care of her.
Even if she hurt me.
I'd still have to.
Not her take care of me.
Flashbacks of her running after me & smacking me with a wooden spoon.
It broke on my back.
I'd be so scared of her.
I'd be so fucking scared.
I'd beg her to not do it, but it didn't matter, she did.
Flashbacks of that boy, DE, he said he was going to get rope to tie me up in the woods.
He and that other boy would get me on this old matrice & they'd kiss me, touch me...
I hated it.
Flashbacks, fucking flashbacks, all these memories, so many are broken up, blurred, cracked, some are goddamn crystal clear.
I hate it.
I want to take my tramadol again.
I want to take all of them.
I want to fade away.
I hate this head, mind, body & place.
Thanks for listening...
I just had to get this out.
I would appreciate a safe hug if it's alright.
:paperbag:
Flashbacks of my cousin telling me to go into an empty room, & he pulled his pants down, & he told me to touch it, & I did, & he kept wanting to touch mine, & he did, & whenever he said let's go now, he wants to do it now, I'd get scared & I'd get anxious & I didn't want to go, I knew it was wrong & I wanted someone to make it stop, so we couldn't do it anymore, I hated it.
I remember his Dad catching us, he slapped me.
I remember everyone thinking it was my fault, everyone thinking what a dirty whore I was.
:cry2:
Flashbacks of my step brother sitting on me & pulling his pants down & sitting on my face & stopping me from going anywhere & holding me there as I tried to move away.
Flashbacks of my mother telling me she wishes I was in care, & that it's my fault, & that she wishes she never had me, & that I'm a mistake, & getting arrested & her threatening the police, I remember feeling scared, vulnerable, alone.
I remember C not even caring & laughing as I tried to put the blanket over her & told her to help me, she didn't.
I remember wanting it all to stop.
Just wanting a sober, loving, caring mother.
Just wanting her to pick me instead of the drink for once.
Flashbacks of the music.
I knew that she'd be drunk if she turned on that song.
I'd walk in & she'd be dancing & drinking & slurring her speech, I'd get scared & I'd go back to my room & wait for the music to stop & for her to go to bed.
Flashbacks of her screaming & hardly conscious.
I had to call an ambulance & my Grandad.
I had to take care of her.
I had to always take care of her.
Even if she hurt me.
I'd still have to.
Not her take care of me.
Flashbacks of her running after me & smacking me with a wooden spoon.
It broke on my back.
I'd be so scared of her.
I'd be so fucking scared.
I'd beg her to not do it, but it didn't matter, she did.
Flashbacks of that boy, DE, he said he was going to get rope to tie me up in the woods.
He and that other boy would get me on this old matrice & they'd kiss me, touch me...
I hated it.
Flashbacks, fucking flashbacks, all these memories, so many are broken up, blurred, cracked, some are goddamn crystal clear.
I hate it.
I want to take my tramadol again.
I want to take all of them.
I want to fade away.
I hate this head, mind, body & place.
Thanks for listening...
I just had to get this out.
I would appreciate a safe hug if it's alright.
:paperbag: