Vampires, Monsters & Frankenstein

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One of my all time favorite movie was “Interview with the Vampire”.  My most captivating scene was when Brad Pitt transformed and when he felt the hunger of the beast within in him, yet he hated everything he became.  He didn’t chose to be a vampire, he was attacked.  He was a victim.  I compare something close to that to those of us who’ve been through trauma.  I had a great conversation with a friend yesterday evening and when he said to me, “I always look towards God for answers but when you shared with me while you were in the midst of being trafficked, witnessing young children, girls as young as 7 years old being raped and sodomized repeatedly, then you ask the question, Where are you God?  How do you concept that?”  It was at that ah ha moment, my friend understood what I meant when I mentioned the falling of our mental state.

Falling into mental illness isn’t a choice, it’s a struggle that we are forced to deal with.  I didn’t ask to be raped at 3 years old, I didn’t ask for adults sexualizing me in their sadistic brains while I was busy playing outside on a swing.  I didn’t ask to fall in love with a batter, or fall in love with a man who promised to love me, but all those things happened.  It’s sad when something has been stolen from us, we learn to adapt to live without it, yet society expects us to bounce back into their perception of “normal”.  When I think of PTSD, it’s a clinical diagnosis that I just don’t get, but when I think of Vampires, Monsters & Frankenstein, I get it.  

I have fallen in love with songs like; Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez, Monster by Eminem & Rihanna; to me I can actually relate.  This does not mean I’m sadistic, it does not mean I’m goth or that I like things in black and satanic colors, it simply means; “Finally, you’re in my world.”  Every now and then, I feel like I’m looking through a glass into your world.  I am very well aware that we all have problems, but if you wore my head as a helmet, you wouldn’t need narcotics instead you would want to take something just to erase the 30 seconds of depravity that you saw in my head.  Time doesn’t erase wounds nor does it heal wounds.  In my personal experience, time is just time.  What you do with it is what you bring out of it.  For example, in a 12 hour span a person going through grief can either lay in a recliner with blinds closed, alcohol in hand and drown themselves in agony, or during the 12 hours, they can utilize their time to surround themselves with people who will support them, hug them, allow them to scream, cry and create a scrapbook and share memories.  In that 12 hour time frame you see the options that is available to you?

I can actually relate to Veterans who suffer from PTSD, we see things no one else can ever imagine.  I do get annoyed when someone tells me, everything will be okay, God never forgot about you.  Let me vent, let me be angry and don’t tell me everything will be alright when you haven’t seen the type of depravity that I’ve seen.  Don’t judge me.  I am all about choices, however no one ever said they were EVER easy.  I look back at the monsters that cannibalized me, used me, beat and raped me; yet I can’t even imagine hurting a child the same way.  Shortly after my escape from trafficking in ’96/97, I became a different monster, I thought if I wasn’t hurting kids I was doing okay, but I didn’t include myself in that category.  I was drawing in narcotics, trying to drown out the voices in my head, my anxiety became overwhelming, every guy that smiled at me I punched them in the face assuming they looked at me like raw meat.  After recycling myself in my own turmoil, I got “sick and tired of being sick and tired.”  I researched alternative ways to find solutions to my problems, this doesn’t mean the voices in my head stops, I’ve just learned to adapt them in my life.

I may have overcome so much, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have fears of failure, I don’t have anxiety or that I don’t have moments where I just want to say, I can’t be strong at this moment.  My biggest pet peeve is when my friends tell me, “You’ve been through worse you’ll get through this.”  Please don’t say that, don’t remind me what I went through and it’s NOT comforting.  You weren’t there, you didn’t feel, see or witness what I went through and even if you did, your pain is not my pain.   Let me cry, let me scream and let me just fall so that I can pick myself back up, that is all I ask.  I’m not relapse, I’m not getting high and I’m not on the corner selling my body, I’m just wanting to cry is that too much to ask?

To me, God said “I separated your conscious because the trauma was much to heavy for you to concept, once you are strong enough then you can begin to integrate.”  That is how I view my mental illness.  Here is my advice to those in ministry and I’m not trying to be rude, but please do not tell a victim who’s going through crisis that God has a plan, because that’s the last thing a victim needs to hear especially if they are facing challenges that even you don’t know the answer why.  Many times, silence and a hug is more comforting then an open mouth and regretful words.  Everyday, I still struggle to get up in the morning, but when I do I say my 3-5 min prayer, I thank God for giving me a night of rest, a day before of sobriety, health and love and for today to give me strength and wisdom to utilize my ability to take one step at a time.  I’m God’s Boo. :) and he is my Blue Monster, because he gets me and that’s all that matters.  Thank you for always being there to read my post, for following me and supporting my efforts.  I love you my dedicated readers.

 

Always, Me 

 


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