Unspeakable Pain (digital collage)

7-7 New artwork (trigger warning)

I've been having such trouble with nightmares lately.  And what I call "daymares" LOL . . . I'm awake, but it feels like when you're trapped in a nightmare and you KNOW it's a dream, but you can't wake up.  Anyhow, there's a lot of stuff that I can't really talk about yet, but I've been able to "draw about it."  I can't even really say much about these except that each one took several hours to complete. 

Anyhow, I hope you didn't find these too disturbing.  I'll post one in a new post that's a little bit more conventional that I've just finished today (Shadow Girl).

Keep Your Excuses (Acrostic Sonnet)

You said that I provoked all that you did,
Or blamed your drinking, called it a "disease."
Under your spell, I did what I was bid;

A stupid slave, I served you on my knees.
Recalling how you hurt me makes me ill.
Each mem'ry makes me want to vomit more.

Just thinking of it makes me shudder still,
Unleashes something I'm not ready for.
Some days I think I've fin'lly broken free,
Then once again your face or voice breaks through.

Subjected to your torment endlessly,
It may take years to heal from "loving" you.
Coercion is the same as brutal force.
Keep your excuses; I'll take my divorce.

Think Again (Acrostic Sonnet)

How can you say that you can understand
And how could you believe you know my pain?
Voice lacking thought, your words like vomit ran,
Entered my shell, I really can't explain.

You seem to think that somehow you know me,
Or feel the things I've felt, or that you know.
Until you've lived my life, you cannot see

What things are hidden that I never show.
Are you so blinded by your own belief,
Left bitter by the wounds within your heart,
Kept fettered by your own remorse and grief,
Each thing I say, you twist and tear apart?
Do you realize the way the things you say

Insult me so and minimize my pain?
Next time you try to wish my past away

Make sure you stop and think, then think again.
You cannot really know what I've been through,

So don't pretend you're just the same as me.
How can you think that I'd confide in you,
Or trust you when yourself is all you see?
Each time you judge me, if you really care,
Step back and ask yourself, "Have I been there?"

Just a Ghost (Acrostic Sonnet)

When first he came and took his rightful prize,
He had to find me first and pin me down,
Yet somehow I just froze and closed my eyes.
Despite the pain, I lay without a sound.
I think I tried to hide a time or two;
Deterring him just never seemed to work.
No matter what I did or didn't do,
The time would come, and he'd just go berserk.
I don't know when or why I chose defeat,
For years it seemed the only thing to do.
I'd wave a flag of white and just retreat.
"God help me," I would pray; it's all I knew.
How many times did he take all of me,
Til I was not a woman, just a ghost,
Believing 'twas my lot to simply be
A piece of meat? I think that hurt the most.
Consid'ring how he left my soul for dead,
Keep asking what I should have done instead.

Never Right Again (free writing)

I am so confused. I hear people's stories about how they have suffered at the hands of their abusers and each one is heartbreaking. They talk about being beaten, broken, and brutalized by their boyfriends or husbands. I have seen their scars. They talk about their black eyes and broken bones . . . and I feel jealous. My abuser rarely left marks on me . . . oh, to be sure, he LEFT HIS MARK . . . but usually not in any visible way.

Why were they lucky enough to have been beaten to a pulp? Why were they fortunate enough to have had their faces marred? Why were they allowed to have PROOF of their abuse? Why couldn't I have had that?

I know that it probably sounds twisted for me to say that, but I feel so empty. He left some physical scars, but most of my wounds are in my soul, where nobody can see . . .

The one thing that I thought was my own -- my body, my sexuality . . . this he took from me. Whenever he wanted, however he wanted, and for however long he wanted . . . I was just a piece of meat to him. A free whore. As his wife, I had no right to say no.

He owned me.

I can't even begin to describe the incredible physical pain . . . for those of you who have given birth to children without any anesthesia, you can maybe relate. Rape is inhumane. It is not only the sex -- it's about domination, control, and humiliation. I don't understand how he could do it do me over and over again and NOT CARE that he was hurting me. He simply DID NOT CARE. to the contrary, he seemed to ENJOY hurting me, and would say things like, "oh yeah, that's the way you like it, isn't it?" or "hurts good, don't it?" It still doesn't make any sense to me.

Over the years, I was reduced to nothing . . . a lump of flesh that did his bidding. Night after night I would lie in my bed and wait for his footsteps. There was no point in trying to go to sleep until I had "done my duty." It was worse to fall asleep only to be awakened later. I don't know how many times I woke up with his dick in my face, with his hand on my throat, or with his hands pawing roughly between my legs or groping madly at my boobs. The sheer terror still grips me sometimes at night, and I wake in a cold sweat expecting to see him hovering over me, waving his dick in the air, and saying:

"WAKE THE FUCK UP, BITCH -- I'M HORNY!"

He has never shown a bit of remorse. In fact, he denies that it even happened.  And now his feeble attempts to reconcile "because I've been going to AA and I'm sober now" just DISGUST me. As if somehow I CARE that he's not drinking now.  As if somehow the drinking "made him do it" . . .  what about all the times he was stone cold sober? 

I don't CARE if he's sober now. I don't care if he's in counseling. I don't care how much he SAYS he loves me. He doesn't know the meaning of the word LOVE.

How could you claim to love someone and then hold them down and fuck them up the ass, even though you could see they were bleeding and in excruciating pain? How could you claim to love someone and force them to suck your dick til they throw up from gagging on it? How could you claim to love someone and then whip them until their ass is raw? That's not love . . . I don't know what the hell it is . . .

Is he psychotic? Is he crazy? Is he just plain evil? What made him like this?

And, the buring question that I still can't find an answer to:

What is wrong with ME?

How could I ever would have been attracted to someone like that? Why didn't I SEE the warning signs? Why didn't a RUN SCREAMING the first time he raped me? Why did I believe that somehow it was "okay" . . . or think that he would change?  How could I have valued myself so little that I would let him treat me like that? How many years of his torture did it take before I quit crying out . . . before I quit fighting him . . . before I quit feeling it at all . . . before I ceased even being a person?

I don't even remember.

And now . . . now that I'm supposed to be "free" . . . now that I'm away from him and trying to start over again . . . why do I still feel trapped by the memories? Why can't I break free?

I DON'T WANT TO FEEL LIKE THIS ANYMORE!

I'm so tired of hurting. I'm so tired of trying to explain to people why I left without being able to TELL THEM why. How do you tell your family that your husband is a sadistic monster that raped you whenever he felt like it?

There are no weekly "study groups" at church for discussing THAT!

Marital rape is just something you DON'T TALK ABOUT with anyone . . . EVER! Even now, the only person I've been able to talk to about this stuff is my therapist. And there are STILL some things I'm not even comfortable discussing with HER . . . things that I don't even have words for . . . things that I don't even want to think about much less talk about.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Up until about a week ago, I didn't even feel angry. I just felt such incredible pain and sorrow . . . I feel like I've LOST 14-15 years of my life that I will never get back. But now . . . now that his family is pushing me to try to think about "working it out" I feel so much rage and anger and I don't know what to do with it. For so many years I never allowed myself to be angry because if I showed even the slightest emotion, whether it be sadness or anger or whatever, my "punishment" from him was that much worse. I simply learned to "turn off" my feelings. 

But now I know that I NEED TO process this stuff and let myself FEEL IT. But I don't even know what I'm supposed to feel. Is it "right" to feel angry? What am I supposed to do with this pain? How do I make it go away?

Right now I just want to make him suffer. I'd like to see HIM writhing in agony with a beer bottle shoved up HIS ass and tell HIM to

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND QUIT CRYING LIKE A FUCKING BABY!"

Is it wrong for me to want him to suffer? Is it wrong for me to want him to feel my pain, to know what he did to me, how badly he hurt me? I just get so angry when he won't even ADMIT TO ME the things he did. Was he so drunk that he doesn't REMEMBER? Did he blackout? I tell myself that, because that's easier for me to swallow than the idea that he's just so heartless and cruel that he doesn't give a damn.  But what about the times he wasn't drinking at all . . . I can't deal with that . . . with knowing that the same person who could call me his "honey bunny" could do that to me . . . I just can't wrap my mind around it. 

Ironically, his family thinks that I'm the one who's being a heartless bitch for not forgiving him and being willing to at least go for counseling. What good would it do for us to go for counseling?

I HATE HIM!

And no amount of counseling is going to change that. I went through 14+ years of LIVING HELL with this man (and I use the term man very loosely) . . . 14+ years of unspeakable torment and pain. And now I'm just supposed to "forgive and forget?"

I DON'T THINK SO!

I'm just not READY to forgive . . . and I don't think I'll EVER be able to forget . . . so many times I lie awake at night and WISH THAT I COULD FORGET. Oh, how I wish I could FORGET!

What I wouldn't give to feel "normal" . . . to feel like a human being . . . to feel ANYTHING at all besides terror and confusion.

I don't even have a CLUE what "normal" is supposed to feel like anymore. I wish somebody would tell me how I'm supposed to feel and what I'm supposed to do now. I feel so very lost and alone.

What is love? Does it even exist? Or is everybody out there just acting out a "fairytale charade" to make people like me wish for something that can never happen?

I see families . . . husbands and wives . . . children . . . and they look so HAPPY.

What did I EVER DO that was so wrong that I didn't deserve that? Why couldn't I have had that?

Didn't I deserve happiness?

I hate myself for letting him do those things to me. I hate him for taking everything from me. He took my dignity. He took my life. He took my soul. And then he LAUGHED at me, spit in my face, and called me his "BITCH."

That's all I ever was . . . just his fucking BITCH.

Maybe that's all I will ever be . . . because right now I don't feel like I'll ever be right again.