A Prose taken from my book “Whispers From Within” By John Harrison

What’s The Point?

I lay here in bed after all these years in pain… with tears… traumatised. Some of the pain is needless. Thirty eight years of Abuse. Its not stopped yet. “What’s the point?” You have to ask. When you are at an end or seem to be. But the question isn’t asked. It like the flashbacks or memories through them. Visits YOU. “What’s the point?” You battle with it. Often you cant seem to tell the truth and answer it. Its like sometimes you lie to get by. Maybe if things improve you can ask “What’s the point?” and you can have an answer. And on you go forward. But I’ve been there too. “What’s the point?” Tears welling up in my eyes I fear I know the answer. So much pain. So alone. So much victimised. So much wrong. “What’s the point?” An answer is in me. I know its not good. Its like a silent answer. One that wells up more tears. But the denial of the answer right now keeps me safe. Can so many for so long be all wrong? Hey another question. Reasoning the unreasonable. Can I be so wrong to believe they Abuse me and it is wrong? Why do so many not act when they know? They are so absent. They believe those that hurt us. The lies. The miss truths. The half truths. “What’s the point?” I keep fighting it and them. But where does it get me? Back here again. “What’s the point?” But here’s another question I ask and I know the answer too. What else is there? If I don’t? OH it could be worse. Its all hard to live with exist with. But if I don’t fight it and them. How could I live with it? I couldn’t. “What’s the point?” NO. Fight it with “What else is there?” That’s the point. I hope it keeps you safe too.

~

I WAS TAME, WITH YOUR BLAME
TILL I FOUND MY REAL NAME
AND MYSELF, INSIDE ALL OF THE PAIN
AND THE TEARS OVER YEARS
OF LOSS AND HURT
WHEN ALL I COULD DO WAS DRUNKENLY BLURT
OUT THE TRUTH AT TIMES, DOWN THE DRAIN
OF DEAF EARS
AND THE SHAKING OUT FEARS
UTTER SPASMS AND SHOCK
THANKS FOR THE OFFER OF ZOMBIE PILLS DOC
I TAKE ME BACK TO MYSELF, AND HOLD MYSELF DEAR AND ROCK MYSELF, HOWLING TILL DONE
THEN I RISE ONCE AGAIN
AS RINSED IN SPRING RAIN
TO RE MEMBER WHO I REALLY AM

BY SHEVA BURTON

~

ME

Rooted to the spot.
What have I done?
What have they done to me?
Stop shaking
Bite my tongue hard
to silence my teeth chattering
Don’t cry
don’t throw up
collapse
make a mess

COME ON! RUN!
RUN. RUN!
Escape. Before they make me do it again.

Where do I run?
Who do I run to?
No one will want to know me now.
I am dirty
they said,
unlovable
unworthy
to be forever on my own.
A child who no one wants
will ever want.
Not now.

I must run
I can’t stay here
can’t see what I have done
can’t watch

Like they watch me
It’s not me they are seeing
They watch their fantasies, their crazed obsessions
Not me.

Who is me?
Am I really that bad?

Run, I must run
The further I run the easier it will be.
So I close my eyes
and I run
run
run away -
deeper and deeper
inside
my
self

I am deeeeeeeeep inside
they can’t see me now
I’m far away from the darkest places
far from screams
from pain
from the things I did
what they did to me
so far that I can’t run any more

I’m still
quiet
safe
in the pure brightness
of tranquility, peace

No where else to run
no one else to run to
I am in the very heart
of Love

The only ones who can find me now
are the ones
who are made of pure love

And that includes me

Meg Aves

~

Letter To The Abuser

Dear Abuser…
Do you feel disturbed now? I hope you are strong enough to read the whole letter I am going to write to you. Hope it awakens you though. First and foremost I ask you to stop doing what you are doing to me, a thief that steals my life. STOP! You have to think! You know what you are doing is wrong, so stop doing what you are doing right away, are you reading now, are you thinking now? Do you understand me? I want to wake you up, make you understand that you are not allowed to think like that about me, don’t touch me like that, doing that to my body! You need help so go get it now! Get away from me and stop torturing me! Set me free from prison!

If you don’t know where to go then talk with your doctor, the police, confide in a friend or someone you trust in. Just seek help! All you have to do is to stop what you are doing, because you can not undo the damage done, but you can change your actions and behaviour!

I don’t forgive you, but I care. Hope you can wake up and care too…

Read the poem:

I am just lying there…

I am just lying there…
I’m turning so he
easier gets the clothes off
I refuse to do it myself
his own dirty job
I don’t want him
to do it…
Sometimes the nice
clothes get torn apart
Gifts from family and friends
He is touching me,
but I can’t feel it
because I refuse to feel for it
I don’t want to feel it.
I am just lying there.
When he leaves he says the most
unforgiving bad words
“sorry, I didn’t mean it…”
Why in his head does
he say something like that?

It flow from the eyes
the pain unbearable
Do I get to sleep tonight?
Will he come again?
Can I lock the door?
Am I still alive tomorrow?
I am just lying there…
I want to scream
but not a sound comes out
I want to sleep
but the anxiety sits too deep
The fright and pain.

Survivor – Janne Helen Tommervag