Carlina: Those coping mechanisms

The past few days have been such an emotional rollarcoaster. Yes, those again.

I saw the therapist on Thursday evening and she struck something inside of me that hasn't really even been jolted before.
I hadn't realized until I was reflected on the things she said how my feelings were thrown to the wayside and invalidated when I was going through an indescribably difficult physical and emotional battle, in addition to just being a teenager.
My family, my friends, my doctors, and even my first therapist all told me that I was overreacting, being melodramatic, a pestilent child. That I was too upset and shouldn't be so angry...

One should always consider how impressionable a child's feelings and coping skills are at 15. How vulnerable that time is, regardless of personal hardships. It's not fair to be told to stop feeling so much when you're coming to terms which the knowledge that you have an incurable disease and your family was horrible to you for years.
I should have been consoled. I should have been encouraged to grieve over the inevitable loss of my childhood. I should have been expected to feel so much.

But it wasn't. I was forced into silence. I was pushed away like nothing had happened. It all was swept under a magnificent rug, who would possibly see the ugliness underneath it?

If you tell someone something over and over again, they will, after awhile, begin to believe it themselves. Revolt against any internal dialog that might contradict it.

The magnitude of what occurred over years of my life hasn't, until very recently been realized. I've pushed it so far down, into the corners of my mind for so long it became my normal.

My own aversion over an sort of affection has confused me for years. Why haven't I found consolice in another human being? But the answer was there all along, it's really quite obvious isn't it?
Nothing has been resolved. I've been spinning my wheels, trying to fix all the external forces around me, trying to approximate exactly who or what was causing such numbness inside me. I didn't even know. I have no idea I was so numb.So cold. So disjointed.

No one really understands me but I think that's because I don't understand myself. Sure I can project confidence, a air of happiness. Shoulder back, light in your eyes, a swing in your hips, a crooked smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. Baby, I can tease you. But it's not true. No not at all.

Those coping mechanisms that have been surgically implanted are truly fucking up my entire life.

But it's not my fault. I've been blaming myself for far too long. Fuck that. I can't do it anymore. The scratch on my wrist, the need for narcotics, the pain of having to eat, the terrible whispers on my left shoulder tell me I can make it all go away. Stop it. Stop it all. I didn't ask for any this. I was just a child. How can you blame me? I have a right to feel something, dammit. Who are you to tell me otherwise?

Carlina: Fuck you

Fuck you.

Fuck you for not believing me.

Fuck you for giving up.

Fuck you for telling me I was wrong.

Fuck you for telling me how I should and shouldn’t feel.

Fuck you for yelling at me.

Fuck you for seeing my pain and not acknowledging it.

Fuck you for making me want to hurt myself.

Fuck you for belittling me.

Fuck you for making me feel like I wasn’t enough.

Fuck you for doubting me.

Fuck you for abandoning me.

Fuck you for turning me into a robot.

Fuck you for making me want to give up.

Fuck you for making me want to OD.

Fuck you for making me want to starve myself.

Fuck you for making me want to tear into my skin.

Fuck you for making me want to die.

I hate you for invalidating my feelings. I hate you for making me feel weak and inferior for having them. I hate you deduced me to nothing more then a pestilent child. You fucking gave up on me. Hell, if I hadn’t fought you as hard as I did for as long as I did, I’d still be in pain.

I hate the war you created.

Fuck you for not giving me the chance to grieve. For making me feel like nothing had happened. For excusing it as if nothing was wrong.

Fuck you for turning me into this person I don’t want to be. Fuck you for holding me back.

How could you just give up on me? How could you stand there and see me in chronic pain and think I was making it up? There were days I couldn’t even stand and you fucking pushed me into school anyways. Hunched over in pain and you didn’t even care.

Do you know what it’s like, going into a controlled environment in chronic, untreated pain for day after day, not being able to go home or tell anyone and have to sit through classes like everything was ok? And then get yelled at me when I wasn’t making good grades? Fuck you.

You had a choice to believe me. You didn’t. Even now we can’t talk about it. I can’t talk about it. It hurts to goddamn much.

Fuck you for making it all about you. For turning me into the bad person because you fucked up and couldn’t deal with it.

Carlina: BFF

My best friend has cancer. When I tell people this, I usually get some bug eyed, sad faced, "oh gosh how horrible" kind of expression. To which I tend to tilt my head to the side, squint my eye, and say something like, "yeah, but she's a cancer fighting ninja, you know?"

The thing to know if you've got a loved one with a chronic disease is that they are NOT their disease. Yes, it's a part of them. Yes, it shapes them. And yes, it can, at times consume them. But they are more then that. And you're doing not only them a disservice, but also yourself if you can't get past that.

Look beyond the physical and see their will to survive, their sense of humor, their dreams and hopes for the future. Support them when things feel hopeless, renew their sense of purpose, rationalize when you need to, and above all, love them endlessly and let them know that they are not alone.

And you know what? My best friend gives all that back to me. Even though my problems seem far less important, she still hears, listens, and supports me right back without comparison. Why? We're best friends. It's what we do. Even when she's in horrendous amounts of pain and under a lot of stress, will still attempt to walk me through my inability to properly get the sound to work on my Blackberry Messenger.

She's a smart, witty, passionate, beautiful, tough, hilarious, stubborn, shoe lover with a knack for seeing love and hope in many things.

Cancer is just a word. It's not a person. It's a disease but it's not a life. Never give up, never back down, and always, always stick with them. Trust me, it might not always be easy, but it sure is worth it.

Carlina: That idea of love (what the hell does that mean?)

I'll be the first to admit I've never been in love. It's not because I'm cynical about it or have some deeply seeded arguments against the idea, I've just never felt it. At least romantically, anyway. What the hell does love even mean?

I suppose you could call me a head thinker. I don't "go with my gut" that often this in turn seems to leads to they rationalities of what love can and can't conquer.

The idea that love is everlasting, limitless, and unconditional are false. Do I believe that love can stand the test of time? Yes. Do I believe that everyone has one soul mate? Not really. And there must always be conditions to love. This is a stand that shall not budge. Abuse, affairs, a change in disposition... all these things are conditions. And they've got to be there.

I suppose I just don't understand. And this could all just be naivety.

I don't fall for people easily or often. I never really have. Even in the depths of my teenage years I wasn't entirely convinced of this idea, and never really found anyone to change my mind.

I'm just not attracted to that many. I guess you could call my standards ridiculous. Or maybe a little insane. But I don't think so. I can't help what I like. But I have such trouble finding it that it frustrates me to no end. Yet I refuse to lower them. I don't see why I should. I'm not interested in mindless hook ups but I don't fault others that are. We're all looking for different things and who am I to judge them?

Intellect is the sexiest thing to me. Nothing is more attractive then raw passion. When you look into their eyes and you can just tell how important that something is to them.

Openness is another big one for me. The person that can be comfortable with who they are and accept and think of people no differently because they aren't like them. I try to live my life in a non-judgmental way. It's probably more innate then anything else. I don't always exceed in this, but I certainly try.

I also seem to gravitate towards warmth and honesty above other things. I don't revel in drama or this idea that feeling or thought should be toyed with. In my eyes, assumptions are more dangerous then truth. I find honesty to be such a rare quality these days. I don't understand why people feel the need to beat around the bush. Truthfulness has almost become passe in a way. It's a tiny bit tragic.

And where would I be without sarcasm and wit? They're the highest forms of humor, you know. To be with someone that didn't share this belief would be kind of miserable.

So what the hell is love? A combination of what I stated above? No, probably not. In my head, I feel like when the right person comes along I should just, "know". I'll look into their eyes and can just tell what's there, what's between us. 21 years have passed and I've yet to find this person. A part of me thinks I just haven't really been looking. There were certainly big chunks of my life that weren't conducive to share with anyone else, because it wouldn't be fair to them. But now I'm starting to believe that there might be room, in a tiny corner of my heart, for another. Maybe.

Alessandra: The Courage To Heal- Intro

Every one has their own demons. You can look at a girl across the room from you in class, see her messed up hair and frumpy clothes, her face buried in a book and think that she's such a nerd and it's pathetic. But maybe, her demon is that her step-father abuses her so she tries to make herself look as unattractive as possible at all times so he won't rape her anymore, so he won't touch her anymore, so that maybe, possibly it could all stop.

You never know when someone has their demons, but three out of five women have been or will be sexually molested/abused/assaulted in their lifetime. I am one of those three. I have had therapy for it since I realized what was happening. When it all came about, I was too young. I couldn't comprehend what we were doing was bad, what he was doing was bad. I found it exciting because he said it was our little secret. I was eight. He was my hero. Why wouldn't I believe him?

One of my saviors is a main named Adair. He's a therapist I met through RAINN which is a non-profit for rape and incest survivors, they help them with everything from literally two seconds after the incident and holding your hand through it all, to being there next to you two years later in court. RAINN saved my life. Adair saved my sanity. He brought me a book called 'The Courage To Heal' A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse. Adair helped me then, when I was young and first figuring every thing. He helped me a year and a half ago and to this day when I was stuck in an insanely abusive relationship. I've been meaning to start this book, working through the writing portions and letting myself really be okay and forgive myself for the situation so I can stop being so tight about it all and stop carrying the weight of every thing on me so heavily.

Please keep in mind that all of the posts that are regarding this topic will always be titled 'The Courage To Heal'. Some of the posts will have extreme graphic nature that is unsettling to most, some people are unable to read about sexual abuse to a child from a victims standpoint as it makes them uncomfortable. I completely understand that and don't take any offense if you don't read it. But this is where I come to get it out there, to get everything off my back. It's a new year, it's something I've been needing to do, for me, for my health, for an incredibly long time. I apologize to those who get offended by the topic and the nature of the posts but I will never apologize for posting them. This is my life, my history, this is who I am and what has happened to me. I'll never apologize for that.

That being said, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!