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What Cant You Get Out Of Your Mind?

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Justmehere:
Your quote: Ever try to reason with someone that gets their joy from self denial and total devotion to ultra conservative religious law? It can't be done. They hear you speaking, but to them it is the voice of the devil.

Yes, I do understand. People that can't deal with reality or the truth and hide behind the next life. I understand 100%. It was one of the ways my ex ran away from his responsibilities and family. Spewing out sayings, but not living them. Hypocrisy at it's worst. I will never get over the pain of it. There was absolutely nothing I could do to get through to him because it was his way of not facing reality. Truthfully, it was so awful because I know there are good people out there that have faith and try to live their lives the right way.

He did not only make a mockery of me, my children...but also everyone that truly wants to live a good life with these beliefs.
 
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I can't get over any of it. ANY of it. I still think about it nearly every second of every minute of every hour of every day. I am forever changed. Everything reminds me... and now? Now that I'm no longer self-medicating? The anxiety is so black and round and oozy in my stomach that I am back to hardly eating. Finally made an appointment with somebody who recognizes complex trauma. I sure as heck hope she's not another paper diploma. I'm so tired.
 
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I can't believe I've let people get away with the things I've let them get a way with. I've been abused and stepped on and passed around and I've done nothing ... nothing. I can't let go how incredibly stupid I am, It amazes me. I can't let go how inconceivably f**king stupid I am, every second of every day it's all I can think about. I just have this little mantra in my mind that it's my fault and I deserved it so stop whining. It's one of my favorites.


 
As a teen, my mother telling me she hated me. Her telling me she wished I had never been born (me agreeing with her that I wished I had never been born also.) If she could do it over again she would never have had kids. She said that she wished I would die. I so much did not deserve this, I was a good kid. :(

Your mother to me was a monster. There are no excuses for that.
 
The evening of my car accident, 9 weeks into my freshman year of college, visiting home. Let a "friend" drive my car, he did so erratically, screaming and terrifying me. Hitting the telephone poll, smashing through the windshield face first, flying through the air 100 feet. Impacted ym head on the road. Spitting out the glass force into my mouth from the impact. The look on his face before I realized anything was wrong, the blood hitting the ground as my face hung open. slashed on both sides from what he did to me. The 9 hours in the emergency room. The forcing of their finger into me checking for internal bleeding. The catheter shoved into me. The look of revulsion on the nurses face when she saw what I looked like. I'll never get that feeling of rejection on her face out of my mind. I've never recovered from that and never been able to feel close and put myself out there with women. I feel so alone. I've missed out on so much. The weight of all this has been too much...
 
I've never recovered from that and never been able to feel close and put myself out there with women. I feel so alone. I've missed out on so much. The weight of all this has been too much...

(((HUGS))). I can only imagine your terror. I'm sorry you feel so alone.

I wish I could put my thoughts into words but if I can help share the weight please let me know

KP
 
I can't get out of mind the fact that my bio-mom didn't like me from birth. I can't get over the fact that my bio-grandma raised me to get money every month. If my own family disliked me who will ever really care?:tdown:

Your bio-mom and your bio-grandma were poison. You were innocent and in the wrong place at the wrong time. I am here to witness the fact that you are extremely good, nice, and worthy of love.
 
The feeling of having a knife to my throat as someone tried to slice it open. The feeling of my hands between my neck and his hands. The overwhelming strength of a person fighting for his life as he tried to take mine. That single instant when I almost gave up when my arms became weak, trembling. The thought in my head: "Why am I fighting? I have nothing to live for. No one loves me."

The moment when I reclaimed my life by not giving up and winning, finding that last bit of strength that I need to live. The mirror at home when I saw the cut on my neck, staring for hours, thinking, "that is me."
 
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