Today we saw PDoc P and she thought it might be a good idea to see Safety Queen our T today after our session with her cause we were feeling so unsafe and she knows that Safety Queen gives us a safe feeling. We spent the time reconnecting and coming up with ways to stay safe. After I told her I would put SI #5 on the coping list she made us a new list (in the picture above). This is helping me to have the strength to get through the next little while. And she left little secret notes to some parts to see as well. So we all have options to cope.

So working through this day 20 as we speak...Any questions about list, you may ask. We love feedback and are willing to share around all this. 

May this DAY 20 turn into 21 days in 5 hours! 

(Sprayed out T's name in blue for confidentiality.) 

I am totally freaked out. 
We dissociated a couple of nights ago and when we came to so to speak and the awareness returned it was like 3am and we were sitting 2 and half hours from home in a park right beside our childhood home where all the sexual abuse took place. 

We began to shake uncontrollably when I, Valynn realized where I was. It was the same but difference. Took a few mins to realize where we were.

This was the place where my uncle first hurt us by having sex with us when the body was 9. The abuse started at age four to our memory, maybe before. 

After not being here for over 23 years the shock was so so so scary. 

Memories stared flooding back in and I quickly began questioning those inside as to why? Unfortunately in a very freaked out angry way. I started yelling why would you ever fucking bring me here. What in the world are you trying to tell me. Why would you bring me to hell on earth again....


This was so very re traumatizing.........

So much so that even writing this is bringing it back. I have no idea how I have not cut around it yet. I am fighting the urges so bad right now.  I am feeling unsafe inside. Not life threatening unsafe but super little scary unsafe. If that makes any sense. 

I then called someone, a safe friend, to come to get us. He did and helped me write a note reading. "I survived this place" and posted it up where people could see it. 

We have not lost time like this in a long time. It scares us and wondering why now. 

I wish I could find the words to express how devastating it was to be back 23 years later in a place of hell. 

This place where many men hurt me daily for years...I don't know how to close this or deal with this, or process this. I am needing much support. I need to say more but will stop for now as I am getting quite re- triggered. 

Gotta go....hugs and feedback welcomed please.

I sit here tonight in utter shame...

I have never felt more useless and unworthy in quite some time.
Despite my difficult day my true heart came out and I helped more people then I should of. And now I sit here bloody arms and a lit cigarette in the ashtray and wonder why I keep putting one foot in front of the other. Secretly hoping the world and all that exists would disappear. I say this with such fear for the candle of hope within is still lit, and I quietly sit here with God and pray he knows my heart better then my words and thoughts. 

My candle is lit not from my own hand however.
I have people, other human beings in my life that deem me and the others inside worthy of a flame. Despite my attempts and some days success of blowing it out, they are there lighting it over and over. Offering me another chance at hope. A gift I sadly cannot take with gratitude most days. 

My heart is heavy and my lungs smoke filled, an unhealthy attempt to feel better. No longer forcing the white powder up my nose and soaking my liver with poison, and fogging my brain with unrealistic truths of brilliance, I find myself sad. Overwhelmed with, I even hate the word...feelings. No powder, poison, fog, or brilliance to numb the pain, fear, sadness, felt inside my deepest cells. My whole body wholes this pain. To feels this torture, a prisoner of history. 

I am greeted with claps, embraces, smiles, and well to do for the strength, and courage to with hold these death sentences from my body. Grateful for the love each holds out to me, it however offers no hit to raise the self worth but rather is a reminder of the self hatred glances I give my soul with each reflection in the mirror. 

This is my insight into where my brain goes with the above paragraph and how my damage thinking has tried to figure this out. As food has a short visit into my system before meeting the toilet, the blade takes bloody trips across my skin, as smoke fills my lungs with cancer causing agents, and actions spew from my body, I am to stand proud? Proud in recovery!? 

Truly recovered I am  not. My disease (addiction) is quite active and on a rampage of destroying my being. In a few short days I will be given an honor of receiving a one year clean and sober medallion. I feel less than deserving because as I sit here with God's arms wrapped around me, I am a fraud, a fake. I have but only tackled one symptom of my life threatening illness. 

Many losses have happened over the last little while, and although I am desperately trying not to offend God, I am questioning why? A question that offers no real good or meaning to anyone. Cause in my experience knowing why has never taken away the truth of the matter. 

As I end this silent scream, as the blade is put back in the box, the cigarette butts over fill the ashtray, and I send one more pray towards God, I am filled with tears because the next step is unknown, the faith is shaken, and the truth that shall set me free is locked away for another night.

Guess the broken promises added up again, today. Couldn't breathe, couldn't put away the intense feelings. Yesterdays session with the PDoc opened up some stuff that we just couldn't seem to put away. *crying....
Needed to feel the blade against the skin. Are we real, are we alive? Tried many things this pass evening and none of it helped. Feel like such a failure as usual. I am so sorry N, S, PDoc P and mostly to the littles. Afraid to sleep, it is almost 4am and we know he awaits us there. His hands on our body make it difficult to sit in this skin. After almost 6 weeks we fucked up. The blood helps us know we are alive. Most think we shouldn't talk about this but to those who don't like it press the little X in the top cornor of the window and you never have to come here and read about it again. IT HURTS!!!!!! FUCKING HATE HIM!!!! HATE THEM!!!! It's not fair!!! Wish we could have said something.........sigh......Going to the washroom we found the stash of razors...wish we would have said that and had them put somewhere else. Now the blades are back in our possesion. Took all of 2 mins to pop them open and do damage. Don't know what to say.....Part of us is like, whatev, who friigin cares....you get a break but it never really goes away. Thinking this will be the hardest addiction to tackle. Sadly, can't wait to do it again but not the only one up any more.....

Written by: Can't tell....but we're in this together her and I.....

A video I made awhile back that I wanted to share.