childhood trauma

Well, my life has been pretty busy. I haven’t had time to do much but sleep, eat, study and work. It’s completely boring, but I guess it’s the sacrifice I make to educate myself. I’ve noticed, though, I guess that I’ve always known, that I’m not the bubbly, easy going person that I usually try to play myself off as. I’m a depressing note of seriousness that I’m sure most people can’t handle. I can see that most would probably just look past me, not wanting to see and dwell on the truths of this world. It’s hard to smile when so much has happened and continues to happen.

I was watching “Donnie Darko” the other day. My favoriet quote is when Jena Malone’s character says “I guess some people are just born with tragedy in their blood.”

I personally know a family that was affected in the recent shootings of Bailey High School in Colorado. It seems to be a domino effect; one person does something horrible and it inspires another incredibly messed up person to act upon his or her desire to commit a like crime. A shooting in Montreal, then Colorado and now Pennsylvania. Our own US soldiers are enlisting in the army to simply shoot people, like they do in video games. (Quoted to me, by an acquaintance who enlisted several years ago).

Are video games the cause of this violence? I don’t believe so. I can imagine the horrible things that must have happened to these murderers or the psychosis that they must be dealing with. I truly believe that therapy can really help a person get over his or her trauma; but seriously, not everyone can afford (financially and/or emotionally) to commit to long-term therapy. I know for a fact how expensive it can be, especially if you don't have health insurance that covers it.

At a very early age, I learned what would become of my sexuality. Frustration, the inability to comfortably orgasm, and constant guilt is the only thing I know of sex. Most of my life has been spent hiding my sexual energy, while the last three years of my first and only relationship has been spent trying to hide my pain with lies. As I closed my eyes to the pain, I forced myself to have wild crazy sex, dead to my own feelings of angst.

I wanted to be the girl he couldn’t keep his hands off of, even though it was his hands that terrified me the most. His hands tortured me with pain and pleasure. One moment I’m completely under the spell of his pleasure and the next, I’m back at age four, being violated again and again, by those whom I was supposed to be able to trust. I’m so lucky to have him, another man might continue without a care or bolt when I start to sob, but he just holds me… protecting, loving and comforting.