Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

Am I in a dream? It was so easy. I spoke, in final hope, Marveled, he heard me. What do you need? Suicide keeps coming. It wants me to go. It lurks at my soul. Tears pour continually, The faucet has a stream, The pressure's released, I get a reprieve. I cry for help. I cry for hope. Will this ever stop? Please help me cope. (photo credit: III by th0rvaldsen on deviantArt)

"Committed Suicide" Is how the death’s explained. Does suicide kill? Or should another be named? Where does it start? When death is what you see. Who is to be blamed? Who hung the crooked frame? Suicide results But not the real cause. Depression murders more Yet, no one knows her lore. It was this, it was that. He did, she did, they said. Where is the family? An unseen mystery. Looking for help, They lived invisible. There, but a shadow, An empty French chateau. Intoxicating drink, The thought of being free, Perverted justice, Innocence takes the fall. See her perishing, Remember her no more. Advancing in the ranks She never voiced complaints. Depression hides in smiles Worn upon the face Medicine for the soul Too thin, it left no trace. Depression kills. A sickness of the soul Continually, breaking down, A castle with no sound. The afflictions build The wounds scarless to view Distinctly took residence. Yet, selfishness ma...

It has been about a year since I have posted. (Whoa, no, I checked. It has been two years.) My parents died -- the only ones I ever had:  one allowed me to be horribly abused, and the other inflicted the torture. Then, a year after their death, I have been working full-time (amazingly) and have not had time to write. I am currently, finally, unemployed and doing a lot of reflecting. My work contract ended. I was very glad -- both that I was able to fulfill it and that it was over. I am mentally to the point that I can function in the world--society--and hold down a job. I suppose this is a good thing--though, I push myself to do it. I have considered that it might be an alter--a compartmental part of myself--that can function highly that has emerged. I say this because when I had a week off of work I rested. Then, when I had to return to work I began to freak out, becoming very suicidal in thought. I so badly did not want to return. However, I literally forced myself to do...

Intro: I write this from the mind-frame of someone who has suicidal thoughts. I do not have them today, but I write this to be informative and give insight so that if you have someone in your life you might be able to understand how they think or even if you yourself have suicidal thoughts you might be able to identify with some of them and know you are not alone. +++++++++++++++++++++++ Have you ever wished you were dead? I have. Some times these thoughts are far away and rarely cross my mind, but other times they cling by closely, hanging around like a sticky spider web that just won't shake off, junking up my thinking. Photo Credit: Katey Smothers Most of the time what proceeds suicidal feelings are thoughts and occurrences that make you think  that your life is little, your impact is little, that people do not move forward or upward by your existence but that you are a weight, a load, or a liability to the people you consider in your inner circle. When you see no...

This is a very raw article. My transparency makes some people very nervous, but I have learned that knowing I am accepted by God is all that matters. I am not looking to be accepted by mankind or any particular individual. I am an unique person created in the image of God, just like you and every other human. What makes me a little different is that I was raised in a horrific childhood home and in order to recover I learned to face the good, the bad and the ugly in me to press into the pain and discover the beauty. I am not happy everyday, but I do try to be real. I wrote this one day when I was struggling: ____________________ Photo Credit: Katey Smothers I just want to die. So many times I have felt this way. Everyone else and certainly myself would be better off if I had never lived and if I no longer existed today. Still I wonder "What does it matter if I live or not?" Right now I feel: I am useless. I will never to able to do anything productive. No one wi...

I don't succeed in the long-haul at anything. I am a continual failure. Can you relate? Looking In I can see how Broken I am Oh, don't we all love the sayings about how nice it is to fail because that is the only way you will ever succeed; Or it is ok to fail as long as you fail forward; Or it doesn't matter how many times you fail as long as you keep trying to succeed? Well, can it not also be true that some people do not EVER succeed? So those cute little sayings about you might as well try because if you never fail you will never have a chance to succeed, can really get old. Especially when you have not had much success in life. Do you ever feel that way? So what have I done: I graduated high school, but amazingly so did everyone in my high school class. It was just what you did; you finished; you graduated. I went to college to be a psychologist. I was going to go to school for 8 years. But, ended up getting married after 3. So, I then went to school...

I held your hand, Dreams upon your face. We danced slow songs Heart beats of grace. dance by melodyofleeloo on deviant art I led my love Never been kissed. Chose purity, Nothing been missed. I fit the plan, Not left to fate. Prayers had been said. God bring my mate. I was the one, A dream come true. Each piece in place, Up to "I do". I felt the pain, Shame hid in me. You believed more Than I could see. I failed at life, You would succeed. Can't hold you back I now concede. I never brought To you a ring. He is the one- Now you can sing. I'm looking down, Dreams upon your face. Joy fills my heart, You found your place. I let you go, You deserved more. In His embrace, I leave the shore.

by myxchimcalxkiss on deviantART A sharp edge Thought to numb The pain too deep To heal away. A sharp edge Brought to mind, Cut the memory- Blood covers. A sharp edge Pierced His side He took your sin Upon Him. A sharp edge For a moment Pause the cycle, The burden. A sharp edge Does not solve The real problem, Hurting shame. A sharp edge Words spoken, The Gilead Balm heals all. If you think about using a sharp edge to cut yourself to stop the pain, stop. A sharp edge against your skin is not the help you need. You are priceless, precious, and your life was created for a purpose. You can know happiness.

Reading about Rick Warren's son's suicide "hit home" and made me think about a lot of things , therefore, I had to write. I am a survivor! I have been one since early childhood. I had to be or I would already be dead. I grew up in an abusive home and daily survived, escaping the hands of death, evil committed against the children by my father. I didn't understand why... why was I living? why was I allowed to go through all the abuse? why didn't I have good parents, parents who loved me? why did I not get to be a little girl? why was life so hard for me? why could I never get a break? why did no one help me? why did every time I seemed to get ahead something would fall apart? why was the government not able to stop my father? why would he not die? why did my mother allow it? why did she not leave? why did no one stand up to him? why did every adult pretend nothing was happening? why did everyone forget, pretending nothing happen? why ...

Life has been very hard recently... many incredibly painful life situations: a suicide of a very young man - planning to be married to a dear friends' daughter releasing go of my son and learning how to be a military mom my young daughter has been sick with heart issues for 3 months and continuing rejection that regularly comes with living boldly the death of my husband's dad - the agony of seeing him shriveled up  a criminal who robbed my husband's family home and took everything and family members who lashed out at my husband regarding funeral matters. My heart is heavy... I cry inside without a sound.  Why do I feel so deeply? I can't go backwards... I can't stuff or put my emotions on a shelf to deal with later... I can't compartmentalize like so many can. I simply feel deeply. What I see, people's words, actions and even non-actions... they scream loud and clear to my soul.  Overloaded. Saturated.  I was at a loss ...

The preacher says we are all the body of Christ...that each member is necessary, a part that functions in unison with all others, but God, in this life--in our time spent on earth--in present day local churches, this is not really true. It sounds good, repeated over and over, because the Bible says so and therefore we all should. But churches seek the best, the ones that fit their mold, the ones who meet their mission, the one that helps their goal. They keep track of numbers, saving all the souls, running them through baptism, collecting them in the fold. But those of us with broken parts, not shiny like the rest, we hear what no one else hears, we feel words with our soul, we sense when something isn't right, therefore we get left out in the cold. Who wants to work with such a pain, she is trouble where she goes, she stirs the pot and sifts for truth, she sees the thorns and not the rose. Why can't she just be silent, "if you don't like...

The scarf around my throat ... I thought about it... I wanted to hang myself, to end it all, to make this stop happening. I don't want to hurt others, to respond inappropriately, to make people cry. Why can't I just shut up? Why can't I stop talking? If only I never said a word, it would help so many times and so less people would be hurt. I really don't say anything that consistently helps. I write better than I speak anyone. I long for it, but don't think I can do it. I wish my voice would be taken away. To never scream again. To never say another painful word. To never push into a conversation. To just listen and be silent. A failure is how I often feel. I feel worse..I feel less... Why did He allow me to be made? Why knowing the future let it happen... the sperm meet up with the egg... the child to be formed in my mother's womb? If He could see the number of my days, He knows me through and through why allow someone to be made so that they can be to...