Just to get it off my chest so I can breathe...

I haven't really blogged in a while.  I've been keeping busy.

I always think about things I'd like to blog about but mostly go off on a rant in my head, to a friend or whatever and then I'm over it.  Tonight, well it's late.  CW is asleep and I am semi awake, my brain is maybe more awake than I because it won't allow me to rest.

Something I've thought about lately is that I did something that was monumental in my forward movement with all the crap of my past... I came out with this huge secret that was keeping me under a cloud... When I did this, I expected people to be more... supportive.  There were a few supportive people (that were truly supportive and not just supportive to my face and creeping around with the enemy behind my back).

I know I told people I didn't want them to choose sides, and I wasn't really lying about that... but I just kind of assumed people wouldn't want to associate with someone of that nature.  I was wrong.  Apparently, incestuous assholes are the new pink.

I keep a lot of shit inside.  I know it may seem like I don't, but I do.  I worry too much about hurting others, you know what?   Fuck that.  If people don't worry about my feelings, why should I worry about theirs?

I worried for far too long that I would put a kink in my family's dynamic and it took me 25 years to say something about what happened to me as a child.  For those years, I suffered.  I kept everything inside and it ate me up inside, it pretty much killed the person that I wanted to be or could have been.  

I never asked to be so depressed and over life that I would go into a dark hole that caused me to harm myself and become a cutter.  I never wanted that.  Who the fuck likes having to wear long sleeves in the summer to cover ugly little scars?  

I absolutely never wanted to go into such blackness that all I wanted to do was die so much that I would take an entire bottle of tylenol in the hopes of just falling asleep and never having to wake again.

I never wanted to be someone who was so angry and hateful that she pushed everyone away because she had a huge fear of being hurt again.

I didn't ask for any of this.  I know that people think it can be easily changed, but it really can't.  I did everything in my life to keep my secret from hurting others and it seriously killed the person I once was.  It ate me up until there was nothing left to consumed.  I was just left with an empty shell.

When CW and I started dating, he made me want to become whole again.  I wanted to be better.  I had a reason to live and not just live.  He was someone who didn't remind me of my past.  He was my future.  He loved me despite the fact that my heart was buried beneath layers of anger and pain.  He took time to peel away the hatred and see the person that I had once wanted to be.  It's a lot of fucking work.  Years of therapy still haven't caused me to get over what happened.

Everyone tells me that I need to move on, but it's not that easy for everyone.  I can't just be like, "oh, he touched me inappropriately over a period of several years.  I'm over it."  NO.  I can't do that.  Because what he did caused a chain reaction for every fucking thing that went wrong in my life.  I know I'm not supposed to give him that much credit, but fuck, I can tie every shitty thing back to that.

Never wanting to sleep because of the nightmares... eating constantly as a form of comfort and a way to escape and hoping for something to make myself so unattractive that no one would ever want to touch me ever again.... because of the weight I became self conscious... I became anxious... I made it so that a normal life really was impossible.  I was bullied for my size... I had a shitty time in school and hated it because people were assholes.... I can go on... but really, I don't want to get into everything shitty that happened to me because of what happened to me as a child....

I'm lucky that I had the parents I did because I'm sure if I didn't... things would be different.  They tried to help their fuck up/depressed/insane daughter despite not knowing what exactly was wrong with her.  Most parents would give up... mine still haven't given up on me.

I'm not sure if what I writing even really makes sense... but I just feel like I had to get a few things off my chest... The bottom line is this... I'm angry with a shit ton of people that I trusted/loved once upon a time... I have other people in my life who make that anger subside and don't make me feel like I did something wrong... to the latter... I'm ever indebted... to the former... I'm like whatevs.