Not done yet

 

I had so many of the pieces, I just couldn't connect them. I had so many of the pieces just couldn't connect them. I am more than angry at myself. At the situation at how I am feeling. I so wanted to be over all that happened in my court case. I know it was there, I went through it but there are parts that still break my heart.  I want to be over Everything that happened when I was little, and I am angry it still hurts and still affects me. I am tired of the anxiety and panic over the smallest things. 

I hate memories, I hate the last thing that my father was indicted for. It was a piece that there is so much shame for, and it is embarrassing. I will talk about it in a roundabout way never saying the words. How does a daughter say that about her father?   I climbed on my own bed to make him happy.  I hate that I knew what he wanted, I don't remember him telling me anything but that look, his beaty eyes I knew. Once I got on my bed his eyes were already closed and soon the moaning started, that just makes my stomach churn.  In the bathtub he wouldn't even look at me. In the tub he had me facing the faucet in front of us as he did what he did.  didn't care that he was hurting me, didn't care if I was crying, hurt or in pain.  I think when he was done,  after the intense pain he just put me outside of the bathtub.  4 years old, my legs felt like rubber and having to walk out of the bathroom and fend for myself. 

His moaning, that face in my degradation he found pleasure I was nothing and that is unthinkable. I know in my head this is just another layer of healing, but that doesn't make it any less hard.  I know so many things in my head, but my heart is struggling to keep up. As far as I have come, its amazing at how the smallest thing, becomes so overwhelming.  I have let go and changed so much of my thinking, and at the same time there is still so much hurt.  My heart hurts beating in my chest, to live that life. 

To know at so little what was expected and the things that were done and the things that I had to do are incomprehensible.  Just the knowing, that as small as I was, I can remember I had a job to do, and I knew exactly what it was. I am not sure that there is going to be any kind of relief from that.  I have said it a million times before, I want to scream at the world, just how unfair that this is.  I want to scream so loud that everything stops and people do things different.  It's to late for me, but for others its not too late, and I think that is the only thing that keeps me going. 

I heart your heart.