I’m having one of those nights
Particularly one of those nights where it looks like I’m just watching Black Lightning on CW but if you are paying attention one of my hands is shaking
I can’t stop watching the videos
I can’t stop flipping from videos to homework and back because if I stop
If I stop
It all comes back
I feel his hands on me again and I don’t know if I’m safe I know that I’m scared I know that it feels good but I don’t know because it also feels wrong because I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know am I imagining where he touched what is safe touch what the hell is safe touch why did I ask him to help me with my back
Because my back was hurting but I should have toughed it out longer
I should have broken my body apart before I ever turned to a man for comfort
Why the hell did I let KT, did I let these men anywhere near me
Even more importantly, why did they leave? And not just leave. They didn’t leave until they tore every.thing.apart.
Leaving me to pick up the pieces
Leaving me to listen to the rumors
She’s a slut. She’s a liar. She’s desperate for attention so she lied about getting raped.
The voices that shouldn’t matter. I know better. I know I am stronger than this. I know I am stronger than them.
Why did I lie this last time? Why didn’t I tell the truth and just stop it make it stop why am I so beaten down that I had a nightmare last night and in that nightmare the men of my past were chasing me and another girl so they could rape us for sport. They were laughing. They thought they were so cool. That somehow their ability to beat women up and throw them around made them better than anybody else on the block.
The other girl screamed and she ran. But I didn’t run. I knew there was no escape. I knew the faces of these men. And I was angry.
I bodyslammed the biggest guy to the ground, held him up by the neck of his garments, and I said “You son of a bitch.” I told him I’d been raped countless times and it hurt like hell. He looked at me, smiling like he was so cool and said “oh yeah baby, tell me how bad it hurt.”
I’d like to say that was the part where I punched in his trachea but it wasn’t.
I held him up by his shirt in front of all his buddies and I begged him
“If you are going to rape me, do me a favor and kill me too.”
The dream didn’t begin with being chased by those men.
The dream started with me wandering in a great Christian chapel. To the left of the pews, where there is normally adjunct artwork and whatnot, there was a plain stone room. I stepped towards it and looked and I saw through a heavy stone covering, the devil’s face. I read a carving on the shrine that announced that it was a temple of the devil. I turned away, terrified, and ran to the altar of Christ. Finding noone there I went to the congregation where priests stood in robes of grey. I ran to one of them, who was one of the eldest, and I asked him to please tell me why a shrine of the devil stood in the Lord’s holy church. I said he was the only person I knew who would be honest with me. But in the presence of his fellow priests, he shook his head and waved me away.
It was when I ran to find answers, that the men came after me with the intent to rape and kill me and my innocent sister.
She got away, because I confronted the enemy.
I wasn’t in class today
I wasn’t in class yesterday
…. My head is churning with things I don’t want to remember. Memories that hurt me worse than any knife ever could. Betrayals so deep that my heart gushes out its life blood, refusing to heal over the patches.
I’m not one for dream interpretation, but one of the reasons I don’t medicate away my nightmares is because my dreams teach me things. Oftentimes I think more of my mind is awake than even I realize and when I am asleep I get to be in touch with the part of my mind that is so silent during the day. This dream is easy enough to explain but I will only give you the barest summary because the details are my own.
The conflict in the church represents my struggle with my own beliefs. I found evil in the very building dedicated to the Lord and I could not find answers from the men who professed to be men of God. In fact in my search for answers, I was denied, turned away, and perceived as a threat.
And the part where I grab the biggest guy there and tell him to go ahead and kill me, that is the first time in any nightmare where I have fought back in any way shape or form.
The reason it scared me is because I am in such pain and so desperate that I feel that what I said and did in my nightmare represents a very real problem. I would rather die than live with another rape or assault. If there was a next time and I had a choice, in the moment, I would choose death.
It’s hard in those moments to remember why I chose life. I think when I was on the ropes it was sheer stubborn bull-headedness that got me to keep breathing.
I will be honest. This school. This environment. And quite a few of these people, have put me through hell. These wonderful “Mormons”.
You know church leaders specifically say not to base your beliefs on the actions of the members?
Now I know why.
To someone just watching me sit on this couch and type. I seem fine.
But there’s a war in here and at the moment it’s not going well. There is no glimmer of hope left right now. I know something has to change, or I will die.
I’ve had a few of these moments in the past few years, but today something happened.
I broke down crying in my therapists office (that itself is rare) and I shook my head and I said
“I have hit my limit”
The queen doesn’t have a limit! No. This must not be Hannah speaking. Hannah just bulldozes through every obstacle, beats every statistic, and does it with perfect hair.*
*or at least a perfect cateye and lip combo
The finality of those words was what hit me so hard because I have been struggling with suicidal ideations and urges since February and I continue to struggle. I have never had to fight so long for the idea of killing myself to go away. Before with attempts it was impulsive and somehow I snapped out of it. It has been weeks. I have taken my medications. I have tried to get more sleep. I have reached out to a select few people and told them what’s going on. I’m trying to improve my schedule.
But I felt it. Last night I was wandering the roads of Oahu in the middle of the night, frantic, shaky, and very very much wishing I could just run away and disappear and I didn’t care if anything happened to me. I almost wished someone would attack me so I could beat the crap out of them and make them pay for being a terrible person because if anyone knows how to file a police report, it’s this girl. I don’t even know what I wanted or where I was going and I had no plan and I nearly walked myself into the hospital but I knew if I did, people would find out because they have relatives who work there. Or they would send me 2 hours away to another hospital and lock me up, screwing up everything in my life I worked so damn hard to get.
And I just dropped to the ground crying my eyes out silently, laying there in the cold grass, and I could not take another step on my own.
I called every number on my phone and found out that one of my supposed guyfriends had blocked me out of the blue seemingly for no reason which was great because I knew him for a year and I used to be able to talk to him and now the bitch decides “oh, it’s not convenient” and throws me out the window. ( see my thing is, if it is too much, then you tell me, and then I lie to you all the time about what is going on and everybody walks away happy because you get to pretend like you care about me and I get to go home and deal with the same hell and handle it myself like I’ve been doing for who knows how long). ANYWAYS I went through all the numbers, and I just sat there and I do have the suicide hotline but it hurt me even worse that I had gotten to a point in my life where my life was literally hanging in the balance because I was about to kill myself, and all I had to hold onto was some tele-responder on a hotline. Noone else was there for me.
Have I had this happen before? Yes. Noone has ever stopped me from a suicide attempt. I always managed to stop myself. I called the numbers. I locked myself in the bathroom. I went to a public place and just sat there so that I would not be alone with myself anymore.
Last night I ran all over these streets thinking “I need to find somewhere where I feel safe”
I realized after a couple of hours
That there was nowhere I was safe from my mental illness. Nowhere the pain couldn’t reach me. Nowhere where the voices and noise and flashbacks would just stop.
I nearly lost my temper with my therapist today because she was telling me you need to regulate your emotions, we need to fix this in the meantime before you get your dog and I just snapped
On the outside people cannot tell I’m having a panic attack or a PTSD swing just by looking at me. I have very subtle tells which are the ways I figure out I’m having one.
I am SICK and TIRED of hearing about how it’s up to me and I have to fix everything myself and if I just knew how to emotionally connect to myself and take care of myself, I’ll get better.
The whole reason I need this dog is because I CAN’T DO IT ANYMORE. It’s because I have been doing it and it is a black hole of neverending agony. There is ALWAYs another trigger. Always another bitch who decides her purpose in life is to spread her twisted version of my very real story and her lies all over the place to any idiot that will believe her. Boys aren’t exempt either. They may as well rename themselves the Gossip Girls and take a group selfie together with the hashtag #uarewhatwemakeup #werebitchesandweknowit cause that is about what they deserve at the moment.
I have plenty of homework. I also have a pounding headache and an empty tummy and a shaking hand and a period and let’s not even go into what else. I have decisions to make and a life to live and dammit if I’m going to sit here and waste my time on that Geography reading, I need to make a plan for how to save my own life. I need to figure out what I want and I need to go for it.
The only words of inspiration I have today? At the end of the day the only thing you have left is your willpower. As someone who struggles with mental illness, willpower is a very tricky thing because my brain is literally trying to kill me. If my brain was in charge, I would be holding a gun to my head. Emotions not really in my control either. Reactions? That’s where most of the crazy comes from is that I react to what isn’t there, or overreact to something that is. But yeah. It’s 10:44 at night and I’m up late typing. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or if I will stay in school here despite these basic b**** but I do know that I have control over one thing. I can control what my dreams are.
I wasn’t going to say anything about it because it’s a very intimate secret but I bought something for my room that reminds me of the ocean and when I can’t sleep I look at it and I imagine that I am a beautiful, perfect mermaid who everyone loves. She has animal companions and a mild crush on a cute Polynesian boy. She can go anywhere, do anything.
I have to be honest I am almost desperate enough to buy a barbie doll just to help teach me how to dream again. I used to reenact the rape with my Barbie dolls, have Ken be the rapist, and then tear the heads off the Ken dolls and throw them from great heights (true story).
If that’s not a sign of childhood trauma, I don’t know what is.
Thankfully some of the super cool people of this world are the ones who fought these types of battles.
Also thankfully some of us still dream that we can be mermaids.
Guys…. I think I am buying myself a Barbie doll. You may post suggestions for which one in the comments.