I am in agony, like every cell of my body is knowing and remembering my own reality.
I have written for years, I have spoke for years, but often with detachment.
I see my life, but mostly I am not part of it.
Now as my anus screams in agony. Now as I sick in the bathroom. Now as headaches don’t go with any painkillers.
Now I know that I was tortured.
I have written and said I was tortured many times in many places. But always it was just a fact to be tidied away.
Now, as I write I was tortured an overwhelming grief is squeezing my chest. There is is sick in my throat. My vagina and anus are in agony.
I was tortured.
A close friend of mine said that PTSD is like being re-tortured again.
All the pain that was blocked out. All the anger that was pushed away. All the terror that had no place to go.
That is all there as PTSD takes over the body.
I know in every cell that men used my body to beyond it’s limits.
I cried as I write that.
I do not know how I am alive. I do not know why my friends died or disappeared.
I see and feel that men experimented with my body for their porn kicks.
You don’t anally someone against a wall, holding their legs – without knowing they are in agony. You do force penises, fists or objects down the throat without knowing they are terrified. You do smashed them into walls without knowing that is violence.
But when done to a prostituted woman it is not made to not matter.
I cannot live with all that poison in my body.
I will find some path out, but after 21 years of male violence being forced into me, it is a scary and painful road out.