Why this is here.

You are a writer, then dammit write! Write it out. Write about your dark past, your struggling present, and your hopeful future. My brain says as I ponder the idea in my head.

I was ten when things became dark. We had just moved and I was a shy one, no friends, new house, a mom who thought I was fat and placed me on a diet, and HIM the man who thought for some reason I was HIS to do with as he saw fit. Perhaps becuse I was adopted he didn't think of it as INCEST. Perhaps I'll never know. Either way I was ten when my childhood was ripped from me and I was forced to behave as an adult in secret.

This is hopefully a document of my recovery.

Friday, October 16, 2009

The last few weeks.

I was at my local library when I saw the book called Confronting Abuse. I thought it might help so I snuck it into a pile of other books and set them on the counter. I'm not ready to go public about this yet. I brought the book home and hit it in my office fully intending to read it and solve all my problems. Well I didnt even open it and after renewing it a few weeks it is in a pile ready to go back to the library uncracked. Just the presence of this book has haunted me. It has mocked me and my efforts to heal. Why does it have to be so dificult? Why isn't there a magic button that removes all memories and the emotional storms that come with this? I hate being a victim. I wish it never happened to me or anyone else. :(
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