Sunday, May 10, 2009

I have an unwanted and unwelcome houseguest

You know what sucks about *distraction*? When you stop distracting yourself all the crap you were distracting yourself from barges back in, uninvited, slamming the door behind it. It doesn’t really care that I didn’t extend an invitation, and now, once again, I have an unwanted houseguest. And of course it expects to be ‘entertained’, it can’t just sit quietly in a corner, in the farthest room of the house and read a book or something. No way! It’s always right in my face, under my feet, vying for my attention. It’s vile and ugly ~ I don’t want it here! I can’t stand to look at it, and when it forces me to stare into its craggy, decaying face, cracked and scarred skin.
It displays my past with sober horror as if it’s a cabaret, and I am the audience. I can feel the bile rising in my throat; there is vomit in the back of my mouth, threatening to come forward with powerful force.

It croaks and taunts me, “Come on Grace, let’s have another look at today’s lunch.”
I’m sick to my stomach just being in the same room with it and I know it is only a matter of time before I will be sick. It sits down next to me, I feel my breath quicken in apprehension of what is to come. It smells of liquor and stale cigarette smoke and I gag as I try to slow my breathing down, try to calm myself.

It inches closer to me, touches my thigh, whispers into my ear, “Mind if I sit down, have a glass of wine? I prefer red, but if you don’t have an open bottle, white’s fine. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

Yeah right! My leg feels like ice now, my skin crawling from his touch. I begin to shake as I try to move away from it, remove his hand from my upper leg. It won’t let me escape; it knows there is no way to break free. It knows once the film starts I will be unable to look away from the turmoil that is happening in front of me. And not only is the movie in 3-D, I can actually suffer with the star of the show, I feel what she feels, I see what she sees. When she bleeds, I bleed. When she cries, I wipe her tears from my face. I feel her fear and her angst.

As the film starts, it knows I’m unable to shelter myself from the motion picture and it flaunts it in front of me as though it is a screening fit for the Cannes movie festival. Incapable of looking away I see my own eyes looking back at me. I become her, the girl on the screen, I feel his hands on my body and I feel his breath on my skin.

I can feel the filth on my soul like it’s my own skin. I know my worth. I burned it into my existence. I am branded. I am unclean. I can’t wash him off of me. I have dry heaves now, there’s no more vomiting tonight, there’s nothing left inside of me, except filth and shame. I can feel my heart beating in every single inch of my body. My face is hot and my cheeks feel bruised.

I scrub my skin until it’s read and raw but the filth cannot be removed. I vomit until my stomach convulses and there is nothing left but he is still inside of me. I cut my flesh in an effort to bleed him out of me. I watch the blood run down my pale skin and pool onto the floor but I still feel him, he’s still here.

I am nothing. He made me nothing. I am pathetic for struggling with this still, years later. Grace, get over it! Move on!


  1. My dear one, I am so so very sorry you struggle with the pain and torrment of your abuse. Much needed ((((safe hugs))))

    Always here listening dear.....

  2. Yes, what you are feeling and experiencing is so raw and real, and as if it is happening over and over again. I am sorry for your pain, for what you have to live with. You are a great writer, and really express the raw emotion of it well. Keep writing, and keep letting us be here for you. I am so sorry for what you went through.

    mile 191

  3. sometimes you think youre done and you coem back to the same spot but it doesnt mean you havent shifted in some healing. its ok to go back to the same place as long as you have moved a little bit in the meantime.

  4. Hi Grace,
    I just found your blog tonight. You write so powerfully. I am sorry that you are going through all of this. I read a few of your posts. The one about lemonade... I feel that frustration with not being successful with getting better that you are talking about and that truly awful feeling of not being able to get away from yourself! Because where is there to go?? Thank you for sharing all this, because somehow knowing that someone else is out there really working on healing is very encouraging.

  5. JBR, always nice to see a friendly face in the midst of my own enemies... thank you ~Grace

    Mile191, Thank you for your kind and understanding words...every day is truly a journey, isn't it? Hope to see you again soon. ~Grace

    Jumpinginpuddles, thanks for stopping by. Yes, healing is a strange thing, isn't it? Much different than the healing of a broken arm, or a springs forward, it falls daylight savings time. My DBTC today compared it to the stock market...which was a comparison I haven't heard yet - but an interesting one.

    Tracey, I'm happy that you stumbled upon my blog- and officially 'welcome' you *Grace rolls out welcome mat* I'm glad you can relate to some things that I write and thank you for the compliment about my writing. It does help to know that there are others out there, huh? That as long as we can 'find' each other, and 'support' each other...courage is stronger than fear. Hope to see you often!
    ~ Grace