Abuse Survivor - Blog Posts

Friendships are such an interesting component of humanity. They truly serve us in a valuable way in terms of finding connection, interaction, community, and belonging. It’s fascinating and colorful to also see how different people think and value friendship and companionship. I had a rough conversation with my mother about some problems that I have been having about my own friendships at the moment. She brought up the fact that she doesn’t rely on friendships that much because she had a strong relationship to her family that she knew would never waver. She saw reoccurring patterns in the people that she attempted to be friends with, was continuously hurt by people that were a risk to trust, so she realized that friendship wasn’t that important to her.

There is always a risk when you meet someone, or are trying to make friends, or start a new relationship. Deciding what, when, how, and why you want to share with people is always risky, and exposing and opening yourself to people is always a hard thing to do. But why is it so easy for me? I actually find a lot of comfort and release when I open up to people and share who I am with people. I feel like I am getting closer to knowing my authentic self when I let go of expectations and hesitations about who people think I am when I just honestly tell people about myself. However, as a sophomore in college, I have learned to fear that side of myself. I have learned the patterns of hurt and betrayal that surround me with friendships, and even the problems that I am experiencing right now with my friends follow the same trend. I value and think of friendships to be a deeper connection than what most people think for themselves. My family never served to treat me in a loving, caring, affectionate, stable way, and didn’t teach and show me how relationships work and function. Through the abuse and trauma that they inflicted on me, I don’t have a safe space that my mother had when she was growing up. She had a bright, caring family to come back to, I have a dark chasm of self hatred and longing. A chasm that is reserved and meant to be filled by the love, affirmation, and belonging by my family.

So I look to friendships instead to fill that chasm. I pour my all into trying to build a support system through friendships that grow. Being seen, recognized, accepted, and loved put the pieces back together that have always been broken inside me. But the pieces only held together by aging glue. Until they fall apart again because those seemingly supportive friendships weren’t as supportive as I was led to believe. I have a twisted view on friendships, believing that the way that I see and value my friends are, by default, the same way that my friends see and value me, but that is a lie that I keep telling myself. I don’t mean the same thing to them, the same way they mean to me. Why is that so hard for me to understand and live with? Maybe it’s because they will never be the family that I should have received growing up. Maybe it’s because I have too much baggage to be supported by the unstable connections between us that I am desperately relying on. Maybe I am looking in all the wrong places for something that will never be found because the time for that has long passed. Or maybe the problem is just me?

My friends do not owe me anything. My friends are not obligated to constantly support me and fill/fix the everlasting holes within me. Do I address my issues with them? Even when I know that they probably will be offended by what I have to say? I am putting them in an impossibly difficult place. But is it so wrong of me to not to want to be alone? Is it wrong of me to want to feel like I am not broken or damaged, and want to feel like I have people I can come back to no matter what? But maybe that opportunity is not meant for me anymore. Maybe this is all I am meant to get from relationships at this point. I should be more grateful for what I have, for my friends, and for everything that they have done for me, but I can’t help but want for more. But alas, friendships aren’t meant to be used for self-gratification, for me to feel liked, loved, accepted. For me to feel like me, just once, in my fucked up life. please… But maybe this is a sign that instead of trying so hard to get something that is impossible to get, I should learn to live and adapt to what people’s emotional capacities are. I should be willing to sacrifice my wants, needs and desires, and be real with the rest of the world. Because in reality, the time has passed for the world to be able to meet my wants, needs, and desires. Now the world will never be enough.

maybe life is all about waking up every day and trying to learn how to appreciate the beauty of the world without allowing the ugliness of everything that has happened to me in the past to interfere with it

That is SO true. ☝🏻 My family does this all the time, and I hate it. 😞

Don’t ever let anyone get you down (too much or for too long,) and don’t let it define your worth. ❤️‍🔥 YOU ARE ENOUGH.

Don’t listen to the lies.

This is a mood so bad, it hurts.

“And you tried to change, didn’t you? Closed your mouth more. Tried to be softer, prettier, less volatile, less awake… You can’t make homes out of human beings. Someone should have already told you that. And if he wants to leave, then let him leave. You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love.” —Warsan Shire, For Women Who Are Difficult To Love

They sure don’t.

(—I’ll do a happy version of this later, since it’s two sides of one coin. ;) )

via weheartit

So do I, Sweetheart. <3 😈 🔄

sometimes you have to look over the wall to remind yourself that - it's not okay

looking over the wall of a place you're feeling safe in can give you an insight into what's fucked about this world

take that lesson - have courage to be different

say: "NO" even if you're the only one who says it, be the example

it honestly motivates me as bad as it is, it really does... every horrible thing I see tells me that I should be different and that I should protect others who were in the same position I was in, especially if everyone else seems to be ignorant about it

it took me a while to realise that some life lessons are really freaking painful and it's normal to cry, to feel pain and fear but also listen to what that pain is telling you "this is not okay" "this is wrong" "it shouldn't be this way"

most of the time - your body is right

be different, do better

Survivor experience that mega sucks: watching your sibling turn into your abusive parent

To Anyone Who’s Still Carrying It

You don’t get over it in a straight line. You just don’t. And anyone who tells you different hasn’t been through it or hasn’t faced it yet.

Harassment doesn’t always leave bruises you can point to. It gets under the skin in quieter ways. It makes you second-guess what you heard, how you felt, what you wore, what you said. It can turn a job into a minefield and your own instincts into something you stop trusting.

And it doesn’t end the day you leave the job, or file the report, or speak the truth out loud. Sometimes it lingers. In your body. In your sleep. In how you walk into new rooms.

But here’s what I know: healing doesn’t have to look heroic. It’s not always confrontation or closure. Sometimes it’s just getting through the day without that weight taking over. Sometimes it’s finding one person who listens. Sometimes it’s deciding to stay. Or leave. Or try again.

Whatever it looks like --- that’s valid. You’re allowed to move forward without explaining why it hurt or proving that it did.

It was real. You’re not imagining it. And you are absolutely not alone.

mentions of sexual assault and grooming

nah because what is up with being confident in your memory that you were sexually assaulted (and you still are being sexually harassed and groomed btw) but the perpetrator shows basic human courtesy once and now you’re the delusional lying fuck.

generalized amnesia and emotional amnesia goes hard because oh yeah that extremely terrible thing happened and i don’t feel anything i felt while i was experiencing and oh this other thi- NERVOUS SYSTEM SHOWS UP

When I walk into the room he’s already puffed-up wide-eyed scared

Looking like he’s seen god at the bottom of a bottle

I ask him what’s wrong and he shakes

Shakes his head

There’s something that neither of us want to say.

It’s on the horizon

Ground-shaking, dead-waking, alarms wailing as it pushes closer

He’s stuck in its path and in that body-freeze

Ready to be struck

I’m laughing in time with the rumble and staring down from behind the wheel

Wondering if the bottle or the god will save him first

I walk into the room.

TW! DRUGS, ALCOHOL, OVER DOSING,REHAB, EATING DISORDER, RAPE, MENTAL HEALTH, SELF HARM, SUICIDE

Now we skip a year to the beginning of the year. Year 9. 2022.

On October 24th 2021, i was walking to a friends house. To get there you had to walk down a dark, forest like path. I wasn't wearing anything too revealing. Nothing more then slight cleavage. This guy, must've been in his mid 20s, came up behind me. Grabbed me from behind, and raped me. My innocence was stripped away, only because i was wearing a top.

This event lead me into a horrible spiral of depression. I was 13.

I started drinking, everyday, for 2 months. In school, at home, out side. I felt like i needed to get away from this pain. I was made to be mature, the child i once was had gone. I was caught, i was excluded, i was put into treatment for recovering alcoholics.

I stopped eating for months. I needed control. And somehow eating was the only thing i could. No one noticed, i'd always been quite fat, so it was seen as me loosing weight. Everyone was proud of me. No one could see the true intentions. I was dying, slowly killing myself to end my suffering.

One day, whilst i was at a party, drinking, someone gave me a massive load of cocaine and heroin . And there forth i was an addict. In school, at home, outside, in dirty public bathrooms, i was always doing drugs. I stole weed, lighters, filters and rolling papers from people. I stole bongs and grinders from shops. I needed it. It made me forget. It made me happy. I was 14. I was shooting up heroin every week, snorting cocaine every day. My friends encouraged this, told me it was my life and i could do what i wanted. I needed the help. They only really got concerned when i almost over dosed on heroin in the park near my house. I was sent to the hospital, where i am now. They are sending me to rehab on the 21st. They said it was what i needed.

I started self harming again, almost slitting my wrists everyday to end it. If i couldn't be happy, what was the point in being here.

I was diagnosed with autism and am currently waiting to be diagnosed with bpd , which all my therapists said i most likely do have, it gave me some clarity, although i will never tell anyone any of this, only you.

This is my story, of what has happened, before you judge someone, think about what they have been through.

Fare well - Radio