My Story, Part 3

This is part 3 of my story, but if you would like to start at the beginning,

here is Part 1 http://blog.craftycutie.com/my-story/the-beginning-of-my-story/

& Part 2 http://blog.craftycutie.com/thoughts/my-story-part-2/

So, where was I? Oh yes, by this point in my story, I am a hardened 13 year old girl, who fears and respects no one. In an attempt to keep myself from destruction, my mind forced itself to completely forget every detail of the first twelve years of my life.

Although my mental memories were forcefully erased, my physical and emotional ones remained. Every night when I laid down and closed my eyes, my only remembrance would surface. In the darkness it would recreate itself, causing me to relive it.

As the sexual violation replayed inside my head, I could feel agony throughout my body. My mind wanted desperately to make sense of what had happened to me, but I didn’t understand. It tried to figure out who was responsible, but I couldn’t see in the dark.

Unfortunately, as real as my experiences felt, I only had access to flashbacks. They only took place in pitch black settings, so I could never see anything. Still yet, I would lay there every night in silent fear and anguish in hopes of seeing my perpetrator.

Each flashback left me with a feeling of disgust and anger. I felt helpless and voiceless. I wanted to scream for help, yet knew I could tell no one. After all, who would believe some kids wild accusations, against the versed defense of an adult. I trusted no one.

My mental anguish and feelings fermented as I continued to keep them bottled up.

Eventually I bubbled over in anger and resentment, which distracted my attention from my anguish. I no longer cared for anything or anyone, including my self.

At 13, I grew up, and subconsciously decided to hide what was left of my child. It wasn’t much since her perp had destroyed her physically and spiritually. He had ripped the sense of comfort, security, knowledge, faith, joy, pleasure and innocence right out of her.

With his bulldozer, he had completely demolished her whole sense of reality. Somehow he had made off with her freedom to feel. Her inability to trust, made it impossible to experience love. Her childhood had disappeared, leaving her miserable and lonely.

Once I was strong enough to make my own choices, I took action. I decided to take control of my own life in a way that no one could hurt me again. My reaction to my pain was active protection no matter the cost. This translated into rebellion and defiance.

From then on, I made a personal vow to no longer obey adults or authority figures. Any time they tried to demand requirements from me, I would go against their request. This thought process which led to taking a stand, extended to teachers and school work.

To be continued…..

 P.S. I’m not writing this for me, I’m writing this for you. I found these words in the hell of my soul. If you haven’t found yours yet, but you can relate to mine, these are for you. I AM RELEASING THEM FOR YOU, just as my friend cried for her father, who never was able to cry for himself <3 While we must absolutely love one another, we should also be vulnerable and broken for each other. I feel your pain, and I’m telling you it’s okay to feel mine 😉
Wishing you Smiles and Sunshine,
Tatiana
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