sorrowsjoy

Did you know our names have power?
The path to our souls,our own internal empire
I know your name my faceless monster
And when I write it down I shall tear it up and throw it into the fire
And in your mind I will evoke the terrors you inflicted onto all your victims,I will encase you into the darkest tomb
Because what you hurt has grown up and you'll wish you would have killed those you have abused

I know your name, I whisper it to myself every day
Hear me
Hear me
I know your name,and karma stalks you,waiting to takes its pay

Ragged breathing,paranoid dreaming
You didn't know the prey would grow claws
So keep running because you don't remember MY name
And I have eternity to remind you who is the hunted one now

I am the hunter and I am waiting
To send you to perdition,your ruin

Lexi--I have been debating whether to copy and paste my story,already written down somewhere safe,here for everyone to see--It is not pleasant but perhaps you will understand me better and why I write what I do--So here it is in all it's clumsy honesty........





When I was a year old my parents moved from California to Albuquerque,NM...here through a non-profit Christian organization they became foster parents to 15 kids of varying ages(between 5 years and 18 years of age)...all were runaways,castaways,and most had been abused in some form...when I was 5 years of age a boy of 15 came to my room one night and told me that because he couldn't go back to his mother because she was a drunk and my mother called her in I was going to pay....and pay I did...almost every night I would wait in terror in my bed unable to move or make a sound...most nights he came but some he didn't---I imagine he did this as a game because the depths of fear are truly deep and infinite--Often he would take me out of the cottage (we lived in the boondocks of the city) and to a junkyard of cars and in there he used everything he could use to hurt me but never a mark to be held---One time he took me in my bathroom late at night and he got to rough and I started to bleed profusely from the rectum--He freaked and cleaned me up and pulled out a knife and held it to my throat and I swear his eyes were red like a monsters and he whispered harshly that if I said anything he would kill me and my family---And I believed him--The next day my mother noticed the blood on my panties and she asked me what happened--I told her in crude 5 year old terms that I had a bad bowel movement and for a moment she seemed to not believe me but then she shook her head having her hands full with 15 other hurt and battered human beings---This went on till at 7 years of age his half brother came to live in the cottage---From the beginning he hated me and it wasn't until I was in my teens that I realized he was jealous of his half-brothers attention for me---So the abuse escalted at this point--Brian---my personal boogyman--was 17 now and decided to include his half brother in our "sessions"--Brian would sodomize me while his brother held me down often by the throat or over my mouth and nose---I blacked out many times--By the time I was 8 my parents were burned out and decided they wanted to move and live like a normal family (i have a younger brother and sis and thank god they were spared)--but they decided to adopt Edward---god was not kind to me in this--While he didn't have the guts to rape me loved to corner me with sharp objects and threaten me--and by this time it didn't take much--But one day my mother caught him and in an instant the second monster was gone---For years I suffered from night terrors and sleepwalking---I often woke up crying in my parents laps---they took me to the doctor but insurance wouldn't cover the Polysomnagram--a sleep study--and that was the end of that--I eventually learned to Disassociate and I tucked myself in a nice dark cage in my mind until at 16 on the cover of the local paper there he was---Brian in orange prison gear being convivted of raping a 3 year old boy---He got a 30 year sentence---and like a light switch it all came back but even then I put it in all the empty spots in my heart determined not to face it---When I was 17 my family moved back to California and into another traumatic situation---it took the place of the abuse for awhile--At 19 I moved away lived on my own filling my life with hours and hours of work---By the time I was 22 I was falling apart---My sleep problems quickly became as bad as when I was little,I lost my job,and by the time I was 23 I had to move back in with my family---Through a support group I met an amazing woman who had been thru her own hell and I spilled what happened to me and a week later ended up in the County Mental Health lock-down facility for two weeks---god the place was a nightmare---So many good people hurting and in pain---I soaked it all in---My walls were decimated and I became hyper-sensitive to others---Now I'm on a lot of meds,have to use earplugs to sleep---and I only sleep during the day for maybe 4-5 hours---I have developed physical problems as well--But now I'm active in the community---I have so much empathy for others that it is a constant pain in my gut---But by helping and seeing a smile, a connection,it makes the pain bearable---My family though is having a hard time dealing with it---My mother carries the guilt around like a stone unable to look at me and my father doesn't ever speak of it---He also isn't happy that I'm gay but thinks that if I would just get over the abuse then I would be the straight older daughter he could talk to others about--But that's ok---I'm slowly and with raw nerves learning to look at myself in the mirror without hate and loathing what I see-- Anyways I think I've taken up a bunch of space here---And thank you for anyone who reads this--