For those who have passed on.
a phrase I would often say to myself
For those who have passed on.
“please don’t confuse me wanting your body as the only reason I talk to you” – ******, my abuser.
the person who said that to me is the same person who forced me to dig a razor into my face. the same person who made me carve his name into my thigh.
i am nothing but my body and i have come to accept that.
i am good for nothing.
“i love you for more than just your body”
bullshit. BULLSHIT. ****** wasn’t the first to say that. he was one of many, i say many because ~8 years (excluding ******) worth of abusers isn’t something i can translate into a number. because i’ve lost count.
the ONLY reason anyone is EVER “interested” (romantically) in me is because of my fucking body.
they use me. they get bored. they discard me.
this is why i hide.
seldom do i ever have a moment where i am free from the pain, free from the trauma that plagues me relentlessly
seldom do i ever have a moment
where i don’t hear your fucking voice, ******. where i don’t feel empty. when i escaped from you, i forgot to bring my identity with me. i have no idea who i am. you managed to steal me away from myself before i had the chance to run.
you conditioned me to believe that you are the only one who could ever understand someone like me.
who could ever love someone like me.
you conditioned me into forfeiting my right to make my own choices and into handing that responsibility to you.
you turned me into nothing but a pet.
helpless. hopeless. incapable.
i have yet to find a way to reform myself into a human being again.
******, do you see what you’ve done? i know that you do. you’re probably proud of it, too. i know that my pain gives you a thrill. my suffering gives you a rush.
i continue to find myself in the same spot, trying to fight the impulse. the impulse to cut, to hit, to burn, to bruise- to destroy this vessel. this vessel that reminds me that i am nothing, that i will never amount to anything. i am useless. i am never the first choice. i am pitied. i am a puppet. i am alive so that my suffering may entertain those who induce it. i am worthless. i will never be worth anybody’s love. i will never be enough. i am nothing and i will always be nothing.
i am defined by my pain and i have lost all parts of myself that render me a “person”
i am a servant to the abuse
i have given up on trying to find someone who will stay, who will not inflict pain, who will not physically and emotionally enslave me.
To The Person That I Mirrored Myself
Despite the fact that I am fully aware of what is going on in your life, your inspirational and motivational messages captivated me. I admire your ways of dealing with life because I don’t. Four years ago, I was in your shoes. I am a goal-oriented person who is concerned with the future and success. I was a “church girl” who read scriptures always and prayed three times a day, till I had all I had today; I speak of it all as PTSD anxiety about panic depression attacks. I’ve become forgetful, so perhaps you’re worth telling my story for.
I’m having a hard time concentrating on anything. I’m rereading messages five times to make sure I understand what they’re about. If you ask me if I saw something, I might have been looking right at it and missed it. Half of the time, I have no idea what the topic of a conversation is. Something is wrong, and I can’t seem to control myself. I’m just going through the motions of my life, and anything that requires my presence is a struggle for some reason.
Senior High School. Being a Senior High Schooler was exciting, especially as a newcomer. They’re all looking at you because they’ve finally seen a different girl, literally different. I got good grades in my previous high school, so I don’t mind when people try to rely on me because I’m used to it.
House. At home, I’m dealing with a situation I never wanted to be in. I finally saw my father for the first time. But the consequences are that I don’t have to see my mother, that I must obey them because this is their home, that I must obey my stepmother, and that I must be nice to my stepsiblings who have attitude issues. And, as a fighter and a strong person (as far as I know), I accepted the challenge and promised my real mother that I’d take easy on these.
Myself. Because I am different from everyone else in school, I decided to handle everything on my own, especially when my classmates began to bully me because other sections wanted to meet and be friends with me. I ate alone, I went home alone, I studied alone, and I sat alone. Constantly hearing insults and negative thoughts about me, as well as how my presence irritated them. Every time I take the stage, they laugh and ask why I’m so sure of myself when I don’t have anything like theirs.
First love. I have always enjoyed joining organizations, writing school newspapers, and participating in talent shows those times, which is why I am well-known throughout the school. It’s no surprise that I caught the attention of the school’s varsity three-point shooter, with whom I quickly fell in love despite the fact that we could be far more different. He ignores the rules, whereas I do not.
Consequences of my actions. After months of being bullied at school, I finally ignored them because I had my pill – my boyfriend. I kept this from my acting parents (I mean they’re trying to be a parent) because they might not send me to school if they found out. I forget about the problems that have been making me weak for months as long as I have my boyfriend. But, as they said, every happiness comes with a price. They recently discovered everything about me and my boyfriend, which made me angry because they are attempting to steal my happiness AGAIN, but that time, I want them to fail. They have forbidden me from attending my organizations, so I am forced to leave. Leave anything that might raise their suspicions because they are afraid of wasting money on me for nothing. I didn’t tell anyone why I needed to leave all of the organizations just to get home at 5 p.m. I just ignored them and got used to going to classes and coming home to do chores and homework. To add to that, my father wasn’t always at home, so I was always at their house doing my stepmother’s job. I cooked, washed dishes, and assisted her in washing their clothes when all she did was put her clothes in the washing machine every time it stopped spinning. I tutor her child, clean the bathrooms, their room, the rooftop with dogs and poops, feed the dogs, clean the rooftop, and look after their plants before I can do what I need to do and forget what I want to do. Not long ago, my father used to scold me every time he came home for reasons I still don’t understand. I’m wondering if it’s because I have a boyfriend. Is that it? I can take insults, but insulting my mother with someone who barely knows us is a distraction. I easily become enraged whenever they bring up my mother because of my mistakes. I once fought with them and yelled at them just as much as they yelled at me. After that, I fainted, and they took me to the hospital, but they don’t care; they’re more concerned with the costs of my check-ups, despite the fact that I know they’re not poor and that a single penny for my health won’t cost them much. Before we met, I had Bell’s Palsy and had to take numerous medications and treatments that caused me to gain weight. After quarrels with my acting parents, I learned to adapt with their environment, I learned to fake everything because it makes everything alright. I pretend to have changed and come to like them as they desired. But, despite of learning to shut up to insults, they continued to be mean to me, so I shrugged it off and focused on what made me happy. Because I had nothing to worry about with my academics, I had to divert my attention away from my personal issues by taking absences and skipping classes. At least once a week, my boyfriend and I try to sneak out of school and go somewhere.
To cut a long story short, I was caught numerous times and they have to be stricter. I had to spend less time with my boyfriend because my rank had dropped and I was on the verge of falling out of the top ten. But one day, I went home because my mother called and said she would be there to pack my belongings and take me with her. Of course I want it, but I must accept the consequences once more. I’m not sure what happened that day, but my mother was crying, and all I did was follow her and sent me back to Laguna before my father caught up with us. I’m not sure what path I took that day, but I missed my mom and didn’t want us to be separated again. After a week, I persuaded her to rent me an apartment near my school so that I could finish the semester and then transfer to another school with her. My father and stepmother recently found out where I’ve been thanks to my “friends”. I had no idea it was another trap set by my stepmother at the time. She must be struggling with the responsibilities of a wife in the absence of me.
My father and mother talked about it, and I agreed to whatever they agreed on. After that, I don’t want to hurt my mother any further. She got a job as a maid, which made me happy because she was the only motivation I had at the time to be more patient with my father and his wife. Arguments in the house never ended because of my step mother’s personal reasons (I don’t know about her), but I learned to ignore everything, and I’ve become immune to her shouting and shouting from my dad through the phone every time I’m on the jeepney on my way home. SOMETIMES, it would be better if I didn’t come home, but I didn’t. That day, I learned how to smoke, as if I needed it… Even though I hate the smell, it relieves me.
I never stopped skipping classes with my boyfriend until it became too much for me. I am a virgin, and I never imagined that I would eventually do it with him, from going out into places like parks and computer shops to going out into places like motels and free spaces. Once a week, that’s how we spent our time together, and we always did it safely; we were both innocent about it, so we explored until I became paranoid because the contraceptive broke before he was released. We stopped doing it until my period came.
When I got home, I was surprised to see that my stepmother had brought me cake and had prepared pancit for me. I thought she realized that battles should be settled in their home with me. But rather, she persuaded me to talk about my boyfriend, claiming that as a mother, she should know him in order to understand me and offered that the house is always open whenever we want to spend our time together. I’m grateful for the offer, and I followed through on her suggestions. I don’t skip classes anymore, she’s nice to my boyfriend even though my father didn’t know, I thought she was covering for me and as a mom (a parent), she understands teenagers fall in love but that’s what I thought until she called my father to come home and set her trap. She left me at their house and let my father caught us. He caught us, watching movie at the sofa that made him very very angry.
I kept quiet; I never told my father she allowed me to do it because I knew it was my fault for believing in her. I took it all and paid for my mistakes because I wanted to compete in the pageant and represent our section. I persuaded my father to back me up, and he did. My most recent contest was a huge distraction for me. They were not pleased that I had placed second runner-up. I also dropped my rank, which made them even more disappointed.
My mother informed me that she was no longer working and that she had returned home from her parents to marry her new husband. I was both happy and sad, knowing that they all had their lives and that I was stuck in the situation they had put me in with my mean stepmother. I never told my mother that she shouldn’t get another husband and should instead wait until I graduated college and we could be together again. I listened to her; she said it was difficult for her to be alone with no one to talk to; she also needed her happiness, so I let her. So all I have is my boyfriend, whom I recently discovered to be cheating on me with her other FB account. Because summer is approaching, and it is inconvenient for us to have problems and fix them while we are away.
Everything was fine not until I received a creepy texts and threatened messages from an anonymous sender, slut shaming and all. Dummy accounts have been created to harass me online and spread rumors among my classmates, teachers, and even the principal. That person knows me well, he knows my history, and after a few days, my Facebook account was hacked. Threatened me that I should not go home alone because I might get hurt; he also screen captured conversations from my account and spread them to all of my friends who reacted to my posts. That made me suspicious to everyone, and I became paranoid, experiencing sleep paralysis every other night. I overeat and have attempted suicide several times.
Despite being told to come to my school to discuss the matter, I never spoke with my parents about it. I never did because they are the prime suspect. The anonymous sender told me that it started when I was in grade 11, and that he was really annoyed with me and wanted me to disappear, and that I didn’t deserve to be the second runner-up. Since then, I’ve had low self-esteem, and whenever I have free time, I go to the clinic and pretend to be sick in order to fall asleep. I slept more at school and don’t sleep at home, especially when I have to avoid everyone because my peers talked so quietly about me that I could hear them.
I finally graduated from high school, and the possibility of attending college stresses me out. My parents do not want to spend money on me, by which I mean my tuition fee. They wanted to enroll me in a university where tuition is free or low-cost; otherwise, I would not attend college. So PUP was the only university for which I had exams. I passed, but the list’s release date was very late, which made me worry too much and made me depressed, especially when they started calling me Bobo and stuff because my name was not on the first list that was released.
I was relieved to learn that I had passed the entrance exam. It provides me with opportunities, despite the fact that the remaining courses are not what I am looking for. I took it because I had no other option, but even though I passed the exam, my father expects me to get the higher courses without them spending money on me. On the other hand, they still have the option of getting what they want. My boyfriend and I stopped working out months ago. He ignored me as if nothing had happened. I recently learned that he spends his nights with some girls and bottles and that I am not required to do anything about it. I tried to chase him, but he pushed me even further over the edge.
I’m getting better, but it’s my ex-boyfriend who keeps me going. I used Tinder to hook up with a lot of men and play with them. I did the same thing my ex did to me: I ghosted everyone. I have my FUBU, and we see each other whenever I have some free time. That’s how I spent my freshman year of college. It gets worse when I discover something is wrong with my father and my stepmother’s daughter. I nearly puked when I found out, but I’m at a loss for what to do about it. And just as things were getting better, the anonymous ***** sender messaged again. Again, he has screen shoted all of my conversations with the men with whom I am conversing. He informs them that made me delete my Facebook account and create a new one. And a week ago, the anonymous ***** messaged my cellphone number again, this time with a picture link to my most recent address and a creepy face that was googled and got from scrbd site. That has been my life since 2016, and before that I had a different life. My uncle sexually harassed me, so we went to another location, which is now my home. I’ve also been pointed with a gun in the past. My life sucks, and I’m not sure where it’s going.
i have no energy. i have given up. i do not deserve to be loved. i will never be loved by someone. i will never be in a safe situation. i will never be cherished. i will never be happy. i will never be unbound. i will never be kept around. i will never be anyone’s first priority. i will always be abandoned. i will always be pitied. i will always be the last choice. i will always be in pain. i will always be a puppet. i will always be worthless.
my day consists of getting stuck in flashbacks and losing track of time.
i am too exhausted to feel anything but misery and dread.
i want to tear open my flesh.
i want to see my own blood.
i want to destroy the place on me that he forced me to carve so that his name is no longer visible.
i want to feel that piece of me torn away.
i want to feel that freedom.
this morning, i was informed that an old acquaintance from middle school was found unresponsive. unresponsive as in lifeless. dead. to me, that sounds like an OD (purposeful or not, i’m not sure). i hadn’t spoken to him since 2018, because he graduated junior high and i was still a grade behind him. it’s a really horrible feeling? being eaten away by shock but being physically unable to cry. i wasn’t extremely close to him, i didn’t have his phone number or anything like that, but it still hurts. he always wanted to make people laugh, a class clown by choice. i’m struggling to register the fact that he’s dead. it doesn’t feel real. i wasn’t close enough to him for this to be devastating to me, but i’m really heartbroken about it. he was about to graduate. nobody ever had anything bad to say about him. he always lit up a room with his presence, he always had so much energy.
rest easy, jack. i hope your departure was painless.
the way my blood ran cold every time you threatened me
the way that the blade felt as i dug it into my flesh to form the letters of your name
the way the candle wax burned as it hit my skin
the way that the acidic feeling in my throat would linger when you made me film myself purging
the way i would try to speak clearly between sobs in those videos you forced me to make, the ones where i apologized to you
the way you talked me out of taking my life in front of you, not out of love, but out of your desire to keep me as a pet
the way you told me that killing myself was selfish, that you needed me to stay
the way i begged you to make the pain stop as i dragged a razor down my face, over and over, while you told me to smile
the way you manipulated me
the way you abused me
the way that i continue to recall those memories against my will,
all of it is torture.
don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me
i can feel his hands around my neck he won’t let go he won’t let go he won’t let go
****** im sorry im sorry im sorry
he’s not really here but i can still feel everything
he was never here
******, how have you found me? how do you continue to torment me? i haven’t spoken to you since late september
i will never be able to forget the feeling of a razor being dragged down my face
over. and over. and over.
it still burns.
Hello, so let’s just start this off with a “I should be dead right now” I have no idea why I’m still alive. My girlfriends in the past have cheated on me and my girlfriend now likes someone else and hates me. My family told me to kill myself many times in the past and doesn’t care about me. I’m alone and by myself. I’ve tried many MANY times in the past and failed. Every. Single. Time. The closest I’ve ever come to death is a car accident in 2017 and I was in a 8 month coma. God only KNOWS how I came out of THAT. I should of died right there, on the damn street where I laid. But I didn’t and I’m still confused on why. Can someone explain to me why am I still here? Cause I’m just about done living life.
****** im so sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry. im sorry for ******* *** **. please don’t get **** ** ******. i broke my promise to ******* ***. i couldn’t ******* **** either. im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry
why am i sorry
why am i apologizing
to the person who destroyed me
what the fuck is wrong with me?
you did unspeakable things to me. things i will never be able to forget or erase from this body. i still have the scars, your name included. i still have the wax burns.
i love you but i fucking hate your guts. you’ve taken everything from me yet your manipulation lingers and deep down, I can’t get rid of that slave-like loyalty i have for you. i can’t get rid of the feelings. they conflict with my hatred for you. my contempt. my rage. im completely broken.
ifuckign hate flashbacks i can feel everythign
he’s in my head he won’t leave he won’t leave he won’t leave
i can hear him yelling at me like he used to
i can see him smiling when I cry
****** please get out of my head please please please go away
i can’t stop crying im so scared
i don’tlike crying because he loved it when icried
but the tears won’t stop falling and i can feel the hallucinations starting to creep up on me
why do I have to relive it every single day why why why why
idon’t want to remember. ****** why did you do this to me why why why
note: please if you’re just here to say something disrespectful to try and invalidate my trauma, don’t bother. my trauma and pain isn’t a debate topic. im here to vent, record my feelings, etc.. not to be picked on, criticized, or start trouble.
there is a song that i would listen to back when i was still being abused in august. it’s your dog by Soccer Mommy. most of the time i’d just sit on the floor and sob while it played on repeat in the background. i still listen to it, it’s a great song and i love it, it’s just really difficult to listen to because of the content of the song itself and the time period i associate it with.
here are the lyrics:
I don’t wanna be your fucking dog
That you drag around
A collar on my neck tied to a pole
Leave me in the freezing cold
I don’t wanna be your little pet
At the edge of every bed
You sleep in, body stretching out
Guess I’ll curl up on the couch
Always talk to other people
Dart my eyes across the room
Forehead kisses break my knees
And leave me crawling back to you
‘Cause I don’t wanna be your fucking dog
That you drag around
A collar on my neck tied to a pole
Leave me in the freezing cold
Always talk to other people
Dart my eyes across the room
Forehead kisses break my knees
And leave me crawling back to you
‘Cause I don’t wanna be your baby girl
That you show off to the world
When you decide you wanna feel
Like you’re living something real
I’m not a prop for you to use
When you’re lonely or confused
I want a love that lets me breathe
I’ve been choking on your leash
i wake up every single day that i am property
this body isn’t mine, his name is carved in it.
i still remain his property
it doesn’t get any less unsettling. it’s just as disturbing as the first time i experienced it.
hands. hands that aren’t there. gripping my neck, my shoulders, my face.
the feeling of someone standing directly behind me. i feel their breath on the back of my neck. i can feel their eyes on me, an unforgiving gaze.
but there’s nobody there. nobody is ever there.
sometimes, things he said replay faintly. but there is no noise. the room is quiet. i am alone.
but he’s still here, watching me. suffocating me. controlling me.
he still, in some way, has managed to lay his hands on me. he never did, he was too far away. but he still exists in my mind as i live in perpetual fear of him coming for me. my hallucinations now mimic what i fear the most. i am tormented by things that aren’t really there.
i am left with unbearable shame after what he did to me. i dwell on what i “could have done differently” and go into a spiral of self blame and hatred. it’s my fault. it’s my fault. it’s my fault. when truly, no, it wasn’t. he had every opportunity to not be an abusive, sadistic, conscienceless monster. he chose to continue. he chose to blackmail me. he chose to abuse me. he chose to force me to mutilate myself. i did not choose to be abused. i did not choose to be stripped of my dignity. i did not choose to become a puppet.
I WAS POWERLESS. HE HAD EVERY SINGLE ADVANTAGE THERE WAS TO HAVE OVER ME. HE FORCED ME INTO SUBMISSIVE INFERIORITY. I LIVE EVERY SINGLE DAY KNOWING THAT I AM NOTHING MORE THAN PROPERTY.
this is the guilt of a victim.
note: my experience and my trauma are not up for debate. apparently I have to write a disclaimer because some people don’t have common decency.
“I’m sorry if I’m too pushy sometimes : ( I’m bad at showing my feelings, I’m sure you’ve noticed. but I truly do love you & it did really hurt when you said those things about no one being able to love you…. I know you’ve probably heard this a thousand times over, but that’s just not true. you’re pretty & vvvvv lovable you stupid.”
you never loved me. never. you never did. you lied to me. ******, why did you do this to me?
you would always tell me “this is the last time i’ll make you do anything like this”
but it was never the last time, was it? it was never the last carving, never the last burn, it was never the last time.
i hate you. i hate you i hate you i hate you.
fuck you, ******. i love you, but a version of you that doesn’t exist. i love the person you pretended to be.
i am the burden of this household. the post-traumatic, dysfunctional, irritable, dissociative, depressing burden of my family.
“Ours were false relationships from the very beginning in which we were targeted, exploited and betrayed.”
– Donna Anderson, LoveFraud
“I will xoxo. I hope someday you’ll truly realize how much I love you, how much I care for you & how I’ll never do anything to bring you harm ever again. your body is just so perfect to me, I adore your personality & the way you feel for me & love me makes me wanna break down. please don’t confuse me wanting your body, as the only reason I talk to you.”
oh, trust me, I fucking know that’s not the only reason you talked to me. you spoke to me because you wanted to keep me wrapped around your finger. you spoke to me because i was your plaything. you spoke to me because torturing me and seeing how i would still say “i love you” after you reduced me to nothing gave you a sick kind of thrill. you spoke to me because you are a psychopath and i am an easy target. i am emotionally vulnerable. i was already an abuse victim before you came into the picture. eight years, ******. eight years of abuse, and you made it nine. i lost the majority of my childhood to violent, manipulative child predators. you knew that. because the moment i realized the kind of situation i was in, i tried to guilt you into leaving me alone. it didn’t work. you were everything to me. you were my entire world, but you took every bit of life out of me.
internal dialogue, 9:00 PM
fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you ****** i hate you
i wish i was DEAD
you fucking plague me every single day, i can’t sleep without seeing your face in my nightmares.
you lied to me
you lied you lied you lied you lied you lied
i’m terrified of you to the point that my brain has confused it for love. i love you, ******. i hope you die.
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