The Hurricane Inside

( These are my thoughts and deeds for today, another day of pain and failure. Journal entry October 30th 2011, the eve of Halloween)

My hand shakes as I dial the number and wait for the voice on the line. My lifeline. I hate that I’m calling, that I still feel compelled to alert him. He is the one person that keeps me hanging on and I resent him for that. The call connects I confess and quickly hang up before his pain reaches my ears.

Pain. The one place I find solace from the hurricane inside me. It’s a two edged twisted double bind because unleashing it would relieve me but devastate my family. What soothes me is inexplicable to them, which alienates me at times, like a leper in exile; missed by the family but safer at a distance.

My reason for self inflicting pain is not open for discussion among “polite society” so I bottle it up and the pressure builds. Once again I’m the secret keeper. But not here, not on the pages of my journal Here I can scream the truth with no consequences.

I can’t reach my abusers who called themselves “The Group”. They practiced satanic ritual worship and mind control. Greedy, self important men that funded their night life by means of child pornography. Safely ensconced in their white collar world, they seem untouchable. They tortured and took everything I had, everything I was and then they took some more. I hate what they did to me but even more I hate what they forced me to do.

As they live out their retirement on the price my body bought them I’m in a fight for my life and sanity. This hurricane monster inside me has teeth that will shred to pieces if it escapes, so it’s up to me to provide the sacrifice it seeks. I feel out of control as their programming engages. I close my eyes and hear their chanting, demanding a price from me, so I carve another pentagram in my arm for them. The blood drips down to my fingers and the pen slips in my grip.

Oh God, please help me…I feel the monster breaking free. I can’t stomach this anymore, and the force of it nearly kills me. My anger could rip the earth in two, as I loath every particle of my being.

Oppressive clouds of angst encircle as ominous fingers crush my
      Vocals silent screams gasping for breath soul thieving
            Identity theft. Tortured children makes them
               Smile I’m going insane my core defiled
                 Chanting circle of women and men
                   Plundered body and soul within
                      Crawling from an unmarked
                         Grave, headstone reads
                            No one could save
                             Each self inflicted
                              Slice from knife
                            Captures monster
                                 Inside wife
                                 Quiet now
                                  Let me
                                    Be

It’s been 20 minutes since I made the call, when I hear the front door open, but I don’t look up. Gentle hands take the knife from me as I lay on the couch looking down. Something splashes the blood on the floor and I know it’s my husbands tears. I can’t bear the pain I cause, I can’t bear the pain I feel. There is no solace, no sleep tonight, the eve of Halloween. I’m angry at my savior of 18 years. Why won’t he give up on me? Just as I start to fling my anger at him he begins reading to me a familiar Bible passage. The only thing that can wrap around my jagged edges and make me safe again.

On this ocean of love and warmth my eyes start to droop. I grab my husbands hand, it’s all I can give him right now. I feel the howling winds inside me subside. For a little while I will live with just a fluttering breeze, until another day, another flashback or memory hits me. But for now may the hurricane sleep.