Tag Archives: childhood sexual abuse survivor

New Year

The New Year started with me being woke up to sound of his voice in my head telling me to kill myself and how to do it if my life was really that bad. As I remind myself that it’s just his voice and he can’t actually hurt me anymore, I feel for a moment like I can just brush it off and it’ll be no problem.

Then I get all anxious and worked up driving my little love to work on these icy, icy roads…sure enough I start the year off with a meltdown. Tears no yelling this time. I wish people knew how debilitating the damage that has been caused truly is.

They see me smile. They see me bake. They see me do a craft project. What they don’t see is how long it takes me to do that 20 minute craft. What they don’t see is that I’m sitting on a stool with my feet up, just to make those cupcakes. What they don’t see is all the pain, fear, and insecurity behind that smile. What they don’t see is this is my therapy.

That these things are actually ordered as a part of my therapy to teach me how to be free and keep me from going into “meltdowns” or “breakdowns” or “freak outs” (I swear I’m probably on a public freak outs forum somewhere). What they don’t see is the inability to successfully complete or focus on any-one-thing and then feel like a flighty failure.

So in 2021 I’m determined to continue healing. Im determined to become ok with failure. I’m determined to become okay with not being able to do like others do. I’m determined to be a better version of me.

2021 started for me the same way most other days start; paranoid and anxious, wishing my sleep didn’t haunt me. I made it the rest of the day though…progress.

I hope to continue to share my story. I look back over the growth of my writing I’m the last year and I can see my own personal growth. Thank you for taking this journey with me. I hope to be a light, a hope, an inspiration to those around me. Please don’t read my stories and feel sorry for me. Instead read my stories, heal yourself or someone else, but most of all learn to find your strength like I am.

Happy 2021 everyone, it can only be a better year. Love, light, and laughter to you all.

It’s grief not jealousy, let’s call it what it is…

12/20/2020

I never really had those “overprotective” parents that some have. I’ve had more of the, “whatever” type parents. When people were groping me or hurting me in my own home they just laughed, joked, and brushed it off. That’s not protection, that’s not love, that’s not parenting.

Having that type of parents makes it so easy to see how, “strict” your friends parents are, or unfair, or whatever it may be. It’s really easy to be like, “they’re jerks” when in reality they probably weren’t, unless they were.

It’s a terrible feeling to wake up one morning and realize that you are jealous of someone or a group of people because their parents actually care enough to be protective, to be aware, to be present; suddenly realizing that is pure love that drives their parents to be “overbearing” and “overprotective”. That even when they are not using the right words or they are using the wrong tone, that these parents genuinely care, even if they are making huge hurtful mistakes; these parents are at least teaching their child they love them enough to protect them. Mine on the other hand did not.

To think I’m jealous of people who would feel that their parents hurt them in some really bad ways emotionally and mentally. Even if they caused some self-esteem issues that someone needs to rebuild for them. Even if they have to go to counseling to get over it, I am not sure it will ever be to the same level as having your mother willingly give permission to strangers and her husband to touch me and do the things they did.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be done sitting on a couch. I’m not sure I’ll ever not feel jealous of people having families. I’m not sure I’ll ever not be triggered. I’m not certain there’ll ever be day when someone not only wants to “try” to love me the rest of their life, but actually can see themselves loving me the rest of my life. I’m not sure if anyone will ever be able to be that sure about me.

The damage has been done and now I’m jealous of things that seem so normal to most. I’m jealous that I’m not the one with 100 person guest list and I have less than 25 to invite. I’m jealous that people had crappy parents that just hurt their feelings and were a little “too controlling”. I’m jealous of it all.

But as a matter of fact it’s not fair to say “jealous”, it’s more fair to say, “I’m grieving what I didn’t and don’t have,” and grief is okay. It’s okay to grieve life. And grieve that shit through every stage. The last stage means victory from it. Freedom. New life. It’s not actual jealousy being felt, it’s grief of a loss of basic human needs; nurture and love.

“Spoiled”

When I was growing up I often heard, “Kelly you better be able to find a man who can afford you”, you know I never consider myself spoiled. So why did I hear this?

I’m not exactly certain besides the fact that I love “girly” things like dresses, necklaces, fine jewelry, handbags, shoes, and so many things that sparkle. I may like those things, but I always knew that I was not in a family that could afford those privileges, so it wasn’t something I expected, just loved.

Now I am in love with this man who spoils me with all things that make me smile, my sons the same thing, and his family too. I have never owned so many designer items or just good quality items as I do now. And not really because I ask for them, but because these people get me, or are trying to make me feel like the woman I should have been made to like a long time ago.

These pretty gifts that make me feel like the girly-girl I always want to feel like, these people are have no clue what they are building in me. They are helping me build that soft, gentle exterior that allows to me, from the inside out, to grow the hardened interior that was made, into a soft, gentle, vulnerable, yet strong woman.

Simple things like beautiful handbags, cashmere scarves, head warmers, dresses, gloves, necklaces, teapots…whatever it may be, they clearly get me more than me and they are helping me be who I am. Their gifts allow me to feel free being a girl.

I love feeling pretty and I love feeling comfortable and all these pretty things make me pretty and comfortable. I am always so humbled by these gifts. I feel undeserving; unworthy. Here’s to hoping next Christmas I don’t cry about getting gifts, this year was the least bothered by gifts I’ve ever been, so it can only get better.

12/26/2020

1 year post gastric bypass reversal

One year ago yesterday I had my gastric bypass reversed. 1 year ago today I was already beginning to feel better. I’ve gained soooooo much “healthy” weight since then. I used to let that number on the scale bother me…my doctors now look at me and think I’ve lost weight. They say I am healthy “heat is clear and fat free”…yet I’ve gained 70 pounds.

I have muscle and fat in places I’ve never had it before. My weight in my abdomen has redistributed and now I seriously just need to get serious about this crunch challenge, and tone up the abdomen.

I love the new school of doctors who are like, “Your health is not defined by a number on the scale. Keep up the good work.” My Bari doctor told me I’d gain my weight back and be, “begging him to redo my bypass”, I told him, “I believe I can do it, my doctors, my counselor, and my family think I can do it, so I don’t care what you think.” Sure I gained the 70 pounds I lost since December 2016 to December 2019, but I am happy with it cause I am “healthy” in all the ways I wasn’t before my gastric bypass, partly because of my environmental changes, but mainly because of my effort and hard work now.

It’s mental effort now. I have learned myself through CBT how to control these things and what causes me to have my eating disorders. I also have support at home, they help encourage treats and abstaining. I will even pointed out to me when I’m binge eating, I don’t like it but it sometimes helps get me back on track.

I love that I was told “everyone goes through seasons in life, and your weight changes with those seasons,” those words helped do much in this healing process. The team of doctors and the brain I now have is…a freeing feeling.

The Words I Needed You to Say

I don’t know if I can ever express how much I needed to hear those words.

A confirmation that you have seen my effort.

A confirmation that I am thriving.

A confirmation of your love for me.

You have no clue how much I needed to hear those words.

Be honest

Always be honest with yourself and your healthcare team. Seriously they only have your best interest at heart.

I wish I would have been honest sooner. I wish would’ve believed that they wouldn’t hurt me like others had. That my struggles are not who I am. I’m sorry I ever believed they’d think badly of me.

Today my PCP confirmed my Bipolar Type II diagnosis and we increased my Trileptal to the next dosage, I’m pretty excited to see how much more stability I get over the next couple months.

I’m glad I finally spoke up and said, “this is destroying my life please help me”, it has lead to a great treatment and a proper diagnosis. Now I get to have more targeted therapy. Do some behavior modification exercises and hopefully get really good control of my emotions, and hopefully learn to live and enjoy life again.

“You better make sure he can afford you Kelly”

I have ALWAYS been in love with Tiffany & Co., I have two designers I had always wanted to own a product by; Michael Kors and Tiffany.

As little girl and teen I would often bring up wanting to just visit a Tiffany store. I mean Tiffany Blue is like the perfect color, it’s my favorite. It’s got the perfect levels of green and blue mixed together to give it that beautiful romantic soft blue color. I just love the color of Tiffany Blue!

When I would bring this up I would hear, “Kelly you better find a man that can take care of you.” I didn’t understand what that meant. I would also hear it when I would mention that I wanted to wear more dresses, or I’d hear, “Who are you trying to impress? You better hope and pray someone can afford you some day.” It made me feel terrible about being me. It made me feel like liking nice things was this bad thing. Liking wearing a dress and maybe a tiny bit of makeup or doing my hair was just to gain someone’s attention. That wearing and liking nice things was a bad thing.

And here I am today scared to death to be me. To like Tiffany, to like wearing dresses, to like being “dressed up” even with no where to go. I feel like being “girly” is a bad thing. It was literally bad thing for me to be a girl in my family. It wasn’t embraced at all.

I was made fun of, disciplined for normal emotions and I still struggle today with being okay with normal emotions (I punish myself for having normal emotions now, no one needs to do it for me), made to fend for myself “survival of the fittest” it was in our house, that was thrown around a lot.

I was a sexually abused child who had some mental health problems that no one even cared to deal with, just laugh at me and make fun of me. Tell me that I was, “too girly, too sensitive, too…” there is too much to even write here.

My main point of this is I’m too scared to be me, to like what I like without apologies, without hesitation. I just can’t though even though I know the truth is, that I would “dress up” nearly every day if I thought it wouldn’t get me made fun of, someone wouldn’t assume I’m seeking the attention of people, if I could guarantee that I won’t hear any of the stuff I heard growing up.

I just want to be comfortable with the one Michael Kors bag I bought myself and the desire to own more and the desire to own Tiffany (more than just this piece, this is just my favorite. My love actually had a custom made infinity necklace for me one year for my birthday, I love it too!), nice clothes, wear makeup, do my hair, or whatever it is I want to do. I just want to be confident and be the woman I feel I am. I’m want to do it confidently and without fear.

I just don’t know how too.

Eff…

Fuck it all!

That’s how I’m feeling today.

Fuck it all!

I have no filter.

Who the fuck cares?

I have no filter.

Fuck rape!

Fuck unwanted touch!

Fuck white men of power!

Fuck it all!

I’m so fucking over this country!

Fuck it all!

Legalize sex with children so it can’t be a crime.

What the fuck?

Seriously are you fucking kidding me?

Why are we even entertaining this?

Fuck it all!

A president…

Fuck him!

Fuck it all!

The Swear Word

That word.

That one five letter word.

A word meant to identify,

Now a swear word.

An unfortunate series of events to make it that way.

That five letter word is a beautiful word.

A five letter word passed down.

That five letter not a swear wird to you.

They made it that way to me though.

That five letter word.

Kelly

Day One

I have to start somewhere. Why not day 1?

First time I am taking medication for anxiety. First time it’s during the day. I hope this isn’t a placebo effect. I haven’t woke up feeling this well in a long time.

I diffused two situations with my boys this morning all before 9 am. And guess what I didn’t raise my voice. I used a technique that I was taught in therapy to use little words. I actually did it.

I kept it together twice. The second time more tense than the first, but I did it. I shut down the behavior, diffused the situation, and kept my cool.

I really hope this isn’ a temporary thing. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a very long time.