Fat Bottom Girl Said What

When my ass talks, people listen.

Archive for the tag “domestic violence and its’ aftermath”

Cleaning Day

i scrub and scrub and scrub

my skin wears thin

from the scraping of the brillo pad

it makes no difference

i am still dirty

i add cleanser

i am still not clean

i put the bleach bottle to my lips

and drink

because i realize the dirtiness

has penetrated my soul

oh how it burns on the way down

and i know that must mean it’s working

but it doesn’t clean me

and only leaves a hole the size of a quarter in my stomach

you stupid bitch

i say to myself in the mirror

you disgust me

the scars he left have dug their filthy tendrils

too deeply into me

they are ingrained

maybe he was right

no one else will ever love me

Precipitation

breeze

 

the breeze blows through the windows

ruffling the curtains

carrying the scent of rain

 

like parched, cracked earth

my soul needs a deluge

to quench its thirst and

wash it clean of all that has sullied it

 

lightning cracks

charging the air

the thunder rumbles in my bones

 

 

no storm

has the power to free my soul

of the filth which inhabits it

 

it rains in vain

I doubt even death

holds a release

 

Warning Labels

warning

 

 

I lived in a walled fortress most of the time. . . with a moat. . .and a dragon.  But no knights.  My life doesn’t currently have, and has never had a knight, or a true partner.  Mind you, I know knights don’t exist in anyone’s world except Walt Disney’s, and truth be told, after the shit relationships I’ve subjected myself to, I should probably come with a warning label.

If any man ever happens to express interest in me again, here is what I would want him to read on my label:

  1. I don’t trust you. Most likely I will probably never fully trust you. If I come to trust you, it will be because you’ve backed up your words by deeds.
  2. Don’t ever think scaring me is funny.  It’s a trigger for me, and you might possibly be met with a slap to your face or a knee to the balls because I will feel as if I need to defend myself.
  3.  No yelling. EVER. Yelling sets off an immediate panic attack in me, and then when the yelling is done, I immediately dissolve into a puddle of tears.
  4. PTSD.  I have it, though I hate to admit it.  There’s no shame in having it, but I constantly try to minimize the situations I was in and deny that I have it.  It will rear its ugly head, and you will need to love me through it, or you will need to leave.
  5. Touch.  I will need to sense your presence before you touch me, or I will be startled, even if you’ve never put your hands on me in anger. I can be a very affectionate person, but it will take a little time.
  6. Jealousy.  Don’t get psycho jealous with me, because I’ve been there and I won’t do that again.  It is possible I might experience some jealousy and read something into situations which are harmless because I’ve been cheated on numerous times and lied to too many times to count.  See #1 for further clarification.
  7. Guilt.  Because I’ve been told numerous times that everything that goes bad in an asshole’s life is my fault, I still have a hard time believing that it isn’t, so I will always feel like shit is my fault.  I will always assume worst case scenario in every situation and will prepare myself for the blame, so don’t be an asshat–you own what’s yours, and I will own what’s mine, and we will forgive each other and move on.

 

I think this about covers the basics.  If you’re still here and have an interest in understanding more about me, then maybe you give a shit and you’re interested in sticking around.  If not, that’s cool too, and I get it.  The rollercoaster isn’t for everyone.

 

 

In Search of Respite

The weekend looms. I have decided I will not miss him. I will not allow myself to miss him. I will surround myself with friends and family and laughter. I will let it all go. Like the bruises are disappearing from my face, so are the prevalent thoughts of him. I now try to think of him only in the negative; of his downward, spiraling out of control alcoholism. It’s easier for me to think of him lost in his sickness, than to think of laughter we’ve shared.

I hope this isn’t just a phase. I hope that I am truly dealing with it, and not just pushing it to the back of my mind for sorting out later. I am afraid that is what I am doing though; pushing it into a dark corner. But really, isn’t that okay too? Just to leave it there for a little while, so I can come back to pick it up when I am rested and ready to fight the demons? Right now I am still so tired.

Similar to my view this weekend. Photo Credit:  www.lasr.net

Similar to my view this weekend.
Photo Credit: http://www.lasr.net

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