Hollow

It really is weird because I worked so hard to get out of there alive, and now that seven years have nearly passed I am more lost than I have ever been. Wondering about my stupidity and what it is I did wrong and why I am putting myself through all those flashbacks and memories again now. I ask myself “why now?” but there doesn’t seem to be an answer. Not a good answer anyway. At Christmas I was triggered. I didn’t say anything but I was triggered in a fairly profound way. I could feel the chains tightening up with each breath I took and the pain in my head from that realization has finally subsided (for the most part) for the first time since the holidays. 

Because of this negativity looming over me I have shut off, shut down. Found new people whom in which I can talk to and feel that I can trust. I am questioning my entire being, including my religious beliefs. I realize at this point that I am not a Christ-loving child of God. I am a lost girl who has no clue and getting back to my roots is what I need to do if I am going to continue to fight to survive. I chose Christianity because I wanted to prove to myself that my ex and his dad were wrong in how they preached it, how they forced me to live it. They placed the bible on Satan’s alter and used it to brainwash me and manipulate me and torture me both physically and mentally. Now that I see that truth I have also began to conclude that God isn’t what I accepted Him to be. God is in fact you and I. It is the energy that floats about around us and in us, it is both positive and negative, both male and female. The Gospel of Thomas, which was mysteriously left out of the Bible, apparently depicts Heaven and Hell being a frame of mind while still here on earth. Which was contradictory to what the rest of the Bible teaches so it was left out. I still love all my Christian friends, I always will, but for me, there are far too many unanswered questions or questions that can only be answered with “have faith my child”.

I am human, I am a tactile being, every cell in my body bounces around with energy just the same as the electricity running through your walls. I can’t continue to ignore what I knew years ago when I was drawn to Wicca and Paganism. Maybe that’s not where I will end up, but right now its where I am going.

Today I was reading a little bit on “slave training”. It made me realize a few things about my old life the first being that it’s a lifestyle CHOICE. It isn’t something you do to someone against their will. Any good Master would know that and wouldn’t have taken me and tried to make me into something I so greatly hated and fought against. Fighting to hold on to the little pieces of myself that I could hold onto while my life was beaten out of me and my will was being broken whether I liked it or not. 

I got to a spot in this “slave training” article that talks about “speech”. Speech patterns and how your slave should talk to you. The “yes Sir, thank you Sir” stuff that was once such a critical part of my life that I have not typed or uttered until this very moment, this also led to my mind wandering to other speech things that were taken from me. Aside from not being allowed to use my own name I was also not allowed to use the word “okay”. I have no real clue why this was, maybe I used it too often and it became annoying, I am not sure. I had actually forgotten all about it until I was reading this article. If I said “okay” I was punished. It had to be “yes Sir, no Sir, maybe Sir” etc. “Okay wasn’t allowed because it was too vague “clean the floor!” “okay!” No, that’s not how this worked, not in my life. It was yes. If I was asked how I felt about something or if I understood instructions I could not say “okay” I had to be expressive, allowing my every thought to belong to those who were an integral part of my life. Tonight, while you are making your list of stuff you are grateful for today, be sure to add being allowed to say “okay” to your list. You really have no clue where someone has been unless you have been there yourself. 

I was punished many times because of this word, yet in the grand scheme of it all it was forgotten until today. I don’t know if that shows how bad life really was or if it shows how much I have forgotten because of time. My honest answer to that proverbial question would have to be that there was just so many things worse than not being allowed to utter a single word that it slipped my mind as it got covered up by more horrific memories.

Yes, I think horrific is a good word to describe the life I had taken from me. The life I fought so hard to get back. The life I lost and now fear to take back into my own grasp because all those years I spent under someone’s wing. Even though it was hell, it was my hell. It was what I knew as life. It was scary, but it was less scary than the unknown I am stepping into now. At least then I knew to expect pain, punishment and having no choice. Somehow though, in this twisted world I was in, it was easier to not have to think about so many things the way I do now. The responsibility wasn’t mine to have. I was told what to do how and when and strangely as the anniversary gets closer I seem to miss that ease. Believe me, back then I didn’t think it was easy. It was hard. I was beaten hard. I was black and blue in most areas that you couldn’t see but somewhere in the process of “training” me that piece of me that contains desire, wants and needs vanished and I was left here as this hollowed out shell of a being that craves the strictness and scheduled life I once had. I can’t be that person for myself, maybe I just don’t want to be.

I am lost. Very lost. I don’t know which way I am going or if I am going at all. I often feel like I am treading water in a lake that is beginning to freeze over. The shore is so close, yet too far away to reach. I need to be grounded so that I can get all the way out of “sub-space” and live my life in a manner that I find satisfactory.

Anyone who has been kidnapped or held against their will for a prolonged period of time would likely understand these conflicting feelings. I actually don’t see how people put on this strong face and pretend falling back into normal life is easy. If it is for them then they have achieved something I likely never will.

Remembering the past is killing me now. That same past was killing me before. Maybe the shackles are no longer on my body but my mind is still held in captivity, chiselling its way out. I am so close. I can see the light but I just can’t reach it. I hope that one day (soon) mind and body will once again connect in this much happier and safer realm.