Joyful Insanity

  It's been nearly one month since I started blogging. I honestly can say I didn't know what to expect. I knew it was going to be difficult, but I didn't prepare myself for just how hard it would be. I started it because I had to get my thoughts out. The first couple of weeks were the most difficult. I thought I'd just be embarrassed, but it turns out that's the least of it. I've been angry, deeply hurt, more sad and vulnerable than I've ever been and lastly, relieved. My memories don't feel so heavy and scary now that I've shared them. They don't have the power they used to and I love it. I have other things I need to tackle, and I still plan on seeing a psychologist, but for now I feel like I have a grasp on that part of my life right now. I haven't been blogging mostly because I've been so dang busy, but partly because I don't know where to go with this now. All of my posts up until this one have been so emotionally driven. I'd

I'm reading an amazing book right now. It's called Hush by Nicole Braddock Bromley. I'm only about half way through it but it's helped me understand my situation more. Brandon has been reading it too and I'm thankful for his support. Through her words he's able to understand the things I can't explain. The first chapter in I wasn't sure I'd be able to get through the book. I felt a bit of panic several times, and I'm sure I'll experience more. I also feel, I don't know, like I belong to a community of people who are struggling to get through life with this burden. Obviously I know I'm not the only person going through this, but it's almost never talked about. Even after the secret is out you keep things quiet and tucked away in the farthest corner of your mind. It's been crazy reading a book that so perfectly explains my thoughts. She's given statistics of abuse survivors and it's just disgusting how many people are hu

Drew really confused me. He treated me nicely. He'd do things to keep me happy. He had me convinced that everyone else was out to harm me. He always had my best interest in mind. He said I could always talk to him about anything. He'd always be there for me. He bought me so many things. If I saw a commercial for a new toy and wanted it, we'd go straight to the store. Eventually he started to bribe me. Sometimes it was with toys or clothes, other times it was with food and treats. When I was a little older I knew without a doubt that what he was doing was wrong. I also knew I had no control over what he did. So I began demanding specific things. Bikes, roller blades, Barbie houses. Doing this made me feel like I had a little control. I hated that I'd get rewards for the abuse but I felt stuck in it and I got to a point where I had to accept that I wasn't able to stop him. I had two choices. I could either keep on going through abuse, just do what he said when he said

A week ago I had a complete breakdown. The kind where you sink into the floor and wish it would just absorb you. I wasn't thinking of killing myself, but I wouldn't have minded if I died. Anytime I was driving alone I'd think maybe this is the time I could be hit by a car running a red light. I needed to feel pain. Physical pain is what I wanted. I understand it really wouldn't have helped anything, but I felt like I needed that to distract me from the emotional turmoil. I wanted to stop existing. Fall into a coma and sleep the pain away. Brandon would ask me to talk to him, to tell him what I was feeling and thinking. There were no words to explain how I felt. For the first time in a very long time I was back at stage one. I couldn't deny the pain of the things that I went through. Years and years of barriers had been knocked down and I felt lost, lonely and afraid. I questioned everything. Why did it happen to me? Why did I keep the secret for so long? Why was I e

I'm having a hard time. I feel exposed and vulnerable. I worry about what people are thinking of me. I worry about hurting feelings as I go through this. It's difficult to continue on with this. I might take a break. I'm numb from pain, overwhelmingly sad and even though I have people supporting me I feel lost and lonely. I don't really know what else to say. I'm not trying to be dramatic. I just can't do anymore for right now and needed to share these feelings.

I remember one afternoon when I was 8 or so, Drew and I were sitting on my swing set. I got the nerve to ask him why he did the things he did to me. He sat there quietly for a minute. When he answered me it was in such a calm and normal way. It was like I asked him why the sky was blue or something. His answer was that I needed to learn how to treat a man, know all the ways to please him and I needed to be prepared for the things they'd want to do to me. Someday I'd get a boyfriend and I needed to be ready for them. If I didn't know how to do these things then no guy would want to keep me around. If I don't know how to please them, or anticipate their needs, then I have no use. He said I don't look like the type of girl boys want so I had to know these things. I asked him why he wanted to touch me like he did if I didn't look like the women in the pics and movies he showed me, but he had no answer. He told me that when I turned 16 he was going to take my virgini

This last week has been rough. So many things were shared and forgotten memories remembered. Normally when I have a bad memory pop up I focus really hard on distracting myself. I couldn't handle thinking about any of it. I've had to acknowledge so many things and I'm left feeling numb, sad and insecure. I'm incredibly blessed by the encouragement though. So many people have messaged me, commented on my posts, sent friend requests just so they could tell me they're reading my blog, and today a friend from church gave me a hug and was so sweet. These are the things that get me through this. Thank you for all the love you are showing me. I couldn't do this without you. The hardest thing for me to distract myself from is this really awful dirty feeling. It's overwhelming. I feel nauseous and weak. The parts of my body that Drew touched are uncomfortable and make me wish I could remove them. I don't know what triggers it. It can overtake me in the middle of d

I was 11 when my grandma died. I was devastated. I loved her so much. She was the cutest old lady. Half Chinese, half Hawaiian and she loved old southern gospel music. She'd sit in her recliner, turn on the Grand Ole Opry and sing along. I loved watching it with her. I remember her hugs and gross old lady kisses. She worked at Denny's on Main St and Drew would take me to see her for dinner. Her coworkers would sneak me extra fries or make me a root beer float. They were really sweet and always made me feel special. Grandma would give them a little smack for giving me so many extra things but always laughed it off. She had her Hawaiian accent despite living on the mainland for so long and I always envied it. I didn't like not being able to talk like her. I'd try but end up sounding like an idiot. Have you heard of pigeon English? If not, YouTube search it and listen. I love it. My grandma and Drew hardly argued in front of me so I assumed they had a great marriage. They&

This is going to be a hard one for me to get through, and probably difficult to read. Over the years I've taught myself to look at things from my childhood as just facts. But I feel if I'm going to be able to properly share any stories I have to allow those emotions to take over again. It's been hard. I'm going to talk about specific and very uncomfortable things. Part of me wonders why I'm sharing this and maybe you'll wonder why I'm getting so detailed. If I'm going to continue this blog then I need to remove all filters and tell it like it was. I don't want to sugarcoat it. Drew didn't start out too strong with the things he did. He'd rub my nipples through my shirt or caress my butt. After a while he'd take off my shirt. He'd ask if I wanted to take my pants off. I was used to running around in my underwear at home so I was fine taking them off. If I was playing with toys while this was happening he'd just watch me. If I was

I feel weird today. I had a few things I was going to talk about today but I'm so distracted with everything that I was dealing with yesterday. I didn't expect to ever find out what he was up to. I figured he was dead or homeless and most likely in Vegas. He moved to a small town outside of Vegas after my grandma died. You know how you can want so many things from a situation? I wanted him to be dead. I wanted the chance to talk to him, or write him a letter. I don't know exactly what I would say to him. I wanted the chance to mercilessly beat him. As I'd gotten older I started to fight. I'd scream and yell. I'd do anything to make him miserable. I was hurt and furious with him. Last month marked the 19th year since I've seen him. He was here for a visit and we'd been driving around town. We had just gotten back to my house from putting air in my bike tires. He'd been pushing my buttons all day. I'd tell myself I wasn't going to give him what

For the longest time I have wondered what Drew was up to. Things ended so abruptly with him. I'll go into all of that another time. But it was so fast and over something so insignificant. For years I felt relief knowing I'd never see him again. I took comfort in the restraining order. Knowing he had to stay away until I was 18 was a wonderful feeling. Over the years I've gone from angry at him, to sad that he did this to me, to wondering what happened to him to make him treat me like he did. Sometimes I felt all these at the same time. I wanted to write him angry letters. I wanted to tell him that despite his hardest efforts I've grown into a Christian woman with a non abusive husband and amazing kids. He hated me going to church and was determined I'd never leave his side. I wanted to rub my well adjusted life in his face. Then at times I wanted to find him to tell him I forgive him. I like to think that I have. My dad and I were messaging today. He asked me if it

Drew liked to talk about my appearance, a lot. He was very opinionated. If my mom bought me clothes he didn't like he'd tell me I looked fat. If I had a hairdo he didn't like he'd say she should have left my hair alone, then he'd try to fix it. If I was going to be spending the weekend with them and he didn't like the clothes I brought, he'd take me shopping and pick out the things he liked. Nothing risque, but it was always from the adult section. He always wanted me to look older than I was. If my grandma wasn't with us he'd joke with me and hold up some lingerie when we passed by the underwear. He had every intention on buying me those things as I got older and started developing boobs. He confused me so much because he would make me feel like I was fat and ugly. Yes, I was a chubby kid and not the prettiest, but what kid needs to be reminded that they're unattractive. He told me over and over and over again nobody would love me as much as him