advice needed!

I’m writing a book of stories from my life, but I am concerned about putting a certain part in because I don’t know how my family will react. I’m going to include the piece in this post and I would love feed back on whether I should keep it in the book or not. Thanks in advance!

-Hali

“I haven’t been innocent since I was four years old. That was when I accidentally saw porn for the first time. After that, I started to explore my body. I found out where to touch and how much to touch until it felt good. A few years later, I would say I was about 6 or 7, I told the girl who lived next to my grandmother about what I had discovered. I didn’t understand that it was a private thing. She told me she could teach me some “tricks” on how to make it feel even better. She was older than me, maybe 12 or 13. I trusted her, so when she told me I shouldn’t tell anyone because we would get in trouble,I didn’t. In fact, I didn’t  tell anyone until a few months ago. I still am not sure how to feel about that. I know now that what she was doing was wrong and that she was old enough to know better, but at the time I didn’t understand that. She moved away a few summers later. “

vows for the future

Nick,

I love you so much. From the moment we met, I knew you were the one. You started a fire inside my heart. I have never felt so close to someone as I do when I am with you. I want to give myself to you and only you until the end of my days. I want to savor each second we have together. Through the good and the bad, I want to always be your shelter, a shoulder to lean on for support, a best friend to confide in. I remember our first date, you took me for ice cream. I remember thinking how you were someone I could fall madly in love with if I wasn’t careful. And as luck would have it, thats exactly what happened. I can’t find the words to thank God for sending you into my life. Sometimes I feel like he made us from the same star. Our souls meant to dance with each other for eternity. Through sickness and in health I will always stand by your side baby.

Always

Holes in the Floor of Heaven.eath

So I haven’t been able to write for a while. I haven’t been able to do much for a while. My father passed away on the 6th. I knew that he was in very bad health, but it was so sudden that I’m still in shock. My hearts broken. I imagined my father getting way older before he passed. 46 is too young. I have went through a range of emotions. I have felt devastation, regret, anger, and now I’m trying to be positive. I’m trying to function. I have survived my first week back at work at the new store. Working has been a curse and a blessing wrapped in one. It’s nice to make money, but it’s still really hard to function when all I want to do is lie in bed. My doctor says that that is depression but I don’t think I’m depressed; I just think I’m grieving. It’s easier some days more so than others. Today has been one of the easier days. My heart feels a little lighter than yesterday. I know that my dad isn’t hurting anymore. He’s at peace and comfortable now. As much as I want him here, I know it would be selfish of me to wish for him to stay here and suffer for longer than he had to.

Thats all for now.

So I’m apparently supposed to write when I feel this way…

I feel great for a few hours and then I drop back down so deep into depression that I’m afraid of myself at this point. All I want to do is sleep and listen to sad songs and eat. I’m doing everything that I can to try to pull myself out of it. Writing, doing art, cleaning and trying to stay busy. It’s hard to stay busy when you’re this sad. I feel hopeless. And I’m having such a hard time writing this that I have to stop now.

The Dark Side of the Mood Swings.

So I’m in the full swing of depression. I haven’t felt this low in years. I don’t know if it’s my medicine or if I’m just really this depressed. My stress level is through the roof. I can’t stop thinking about work, and money and my personal life. I feel like I am spiraling out of control. I’m having suicidal thoughts and thoughts of self harm. It’s getting harder to ignore. I went to see the emergency nurse on staff at the therapist office I go to. She said it’s because I went up on the milligrams of my meds, then I had to drop down when I was about to run out, and now I’m back up again. Apparently my brain is trying to “recalibrate” or so the nurse said but she also said that if it gets worse to go to the hospital. I am in a higher category for acting on my thoughts. It’s scary to know how dangerous I am to myself. I need some advice. I need to know what I can do when the thoughts become too much. It’s been two years since I’ve cut or hurt myself and I really want to keep up that good streak.

My artist block is finally gone after months and months!

Trauma Therapy: The journey so far…

I think the hardest part of this therapy is that I have to admit that I was assaulted. When it first happened, I tried to speak out and was called a liar. The guy was a friend of mine and a mutual friend to a majority of my friends. So a lot of people didn’t believe me. At the time, I was on heavy drugs. I feel like that takes away from my credibility. It has taken me a long time to stop caring whether others believed me. I know what happened to me and from what I’ve been learning, that’s all that matters.

My therapist says that to heal and move on, I have to learn to admit what happened to myself, accept my role in the event, and accept that it wasn’t my fault no matter how many times I tell myself it was. And so my latest assignment was to write in detail about the assault. To feel the pain as I write it out, to draw a line when I had to stop because it hurt so much. And then I was supposed to reread it every day afterwards until my next session. The goal is to take some of the power out of what happened. To find stuck points. Now, I have to tell a secret, I haven’t been able to bring myself to reread it. I feel like if I have to reread it every day, that I will shatter all over again. Sometimes this therapy feels more like self torture more than being helpful. I guess that’s the hard part that my therapist warned me about. I just feel a little lost right now. Probably because I out of my meds right now.

I guess that’s all for now, I’m having a bit of writers block these days.

Trauma Therapy: My Impact Statement.

I recently started trauma therapy and my Therapist asked me to write an impact statement on why I believe the rape happened, and then I’m supposed to make a list of stuck points. So here’s my impact statement:

I believe this event happened because of many circumstances. I believe it happened because I was careless with my actions which in return caused my parents to kick me out. Had I not made those certain choices I wouldn’t have needed to find a to stay, The night that the rape happened, I think that I gave him the wrong idea by asking for a place to stay. I think I gave him mixed signal because I’m flirty when I’m fucked up.  I also think it happened because I didn’t make things clear enough before I went to sleep.  I was high and drunk and all I really cared about was sleeping . I think me getting fucked up was also a factor in the rape. I made myself vulnerable and weak and I may not have been clear enough when I was trying to stop him. Most importantly, I think this rape was caused because I was weak and made bad decisions. My entire life has been thrown off coarse because of my own stupid mistakes.

This is my impact statement. This is how I feel right now. Throughout this therapy, the idea is for my thoughts and feelings on why this happened, my stuck points and how i feel about who’s fault this is to change.

I wish life had captions.

Today has been an interesting day. I think my good ear is stopped up. I can barely hear anything. Is it weird that I’m nervous to tell anyone? I’m just trying to keep it to myself because I’m hoping they just need to pop or if I take some decongestants it will clear up. I’ve wished that everyone had captions for what they were saying all day. I’ve just been kinda going along when people talked to me. Work was so hard, I could barely concentrate because of all the noise around me from us being so busy and having all the ovens and both toasters and microwaves going off. It was intense and I was struggling so hard to keep my speed up during the after church rush. I got through it without slowing things down too much. On the bright side I found $50 dollars in the parking lot and split it with a coworker so that was a plus. Now I’m sitting home, watching Pretty Little Liars and cooking enchiladas for dinner.

At least Netflix has captions, which I am so grateful for because I am hooked on this show.