Listlessly Living

“Mothers tell your children not to do what I have done”

I seem to have hit this place where I feel utterly trapped within the confines of my own mind. I bounce from being raped, kidnapped, forced to do unspeakable things that only me and him know of. I am in one moment rushing through life and the next crashed, inwardly bleeding as my tears stain my flesh and I can’t control it. I can’t figure out why. I can’t get over the pain, the heartache, the regrets so I sit here loathing who I have become because of the things I have done or that have been done to me.

5 years of hell I did what I had to do in order to survive, knowing full well that I was forced, I was given no choice. I was punished, I was bound, I was used, I was an object, chattel to be traded or sold as my master saw fit. A master slave relationship can and does work wonderfully in most cases, as long as it is safe, sane and consensual. I was taught the rules, I was trained in this life style, yet my master didn’t practice what he preached, I was never safe, it was far from rational or sane and it was most definitely not something I had consented to. 

The rules were constantly changing, and by constantly I mean I could be told something in the morning and when he got home that night I would receive a punishment for the very thing I was told to do that morning. One cannot please another, no matter how hard you hit, no matter how tight the chains are, if you are consistently inconsistent in nearly every aspect of life.

I was a prisoner. I was his possession, I was his slave. 

It’s been seven years since I escaped. Seven years of trying to figure out whom exactly I am without those titles. It’s been a long hard journey and most days I still don’t have a clue. I know who I am not. I am not a possession. I am not a slave. I am not a prisoner. I am not a sex toy. I am not the girl known simply as “m”.

I have come far enough to know that I am Marisa. Although I don’t know who Marisa is at least I have a working list of who I’m not. I have become assertive enough to correct people who don’t speak my name properly. I do not tolerate the abuse, emotional or otherwise. I have quit having random sex because I am not a whore and I want to be as pure as possible for the man who I marry one day. I fully believe that the past is the past and that although being a victim will always be a part of who I am it doesn’t have to label me as damaged to others. 

Yes, I am fragile. 

I do break.

The pieces aren’t always put back together entirely but I survived. Even when I am staring death in the face and begging it to take my soul I survive.

I can’t say whether or not I have a further purpose on this planet or not. Only creation itself knows that. I do know that because of me people are safer, people are warned.

I know I am a target and that I could be taken in a few hours or days to never escape alive. If that is my fate then I have no choice but to accept it. None of us know what tomorrow brings. Even the best laid plans fail.

Right now I am also mourning what should have been my baby girls 5th birthday has she survived the pregnancy. I have so much guilt. I feel like I am a murderer. I have had tragedy after tragedy strike my life with very few moments of being content. Right now my heart bleeds for the babies who have been lost. I try to take solace in knowing that God has taken my children, that they were blessed to see his face first. That makes it easier most of the time, but I can’t deny that right now I am crashed. I am rubble being sifted through and reorganized. 

Maybe, one day, the pain won’t be so intense. I pray there is never a day that passes that I don’t think about my angels. It hurts to be constantly reminded of them and what could have been, but what kind of person would I be if I didn’t think about my lost children every single day? 

Regardless of immeasurable pain and sacrifice I know deep within my soul that the hell I have survived has been for good. 

Sometimes being an emotional being is our greatest downfall. Other times it is the best gift one could have.

I was given the gift to see and feel from God, everything has its opposite. So, it is not only a gift, or blessing, but it is often a curse as well. 

I wouldn’t trade it.

Not anything at all.