DarknessPrevails's Weblog Site • NuTang.com

Looks like I will be typing yet another sad entry. But I truly need to get this out of my system. I need to figure this out.

I need to go see a psychiatrist. I've been saying this for a very very long time. But I could never bring myself to see one. Now more then ever, I think I need to. But the thing is, I don't trust them. Many shrinks don't like dealing with teenagers. How do I find one that does? Not to mention, the things I wish to talk about I don't want my parents knowing but because they are my legal guardians and shit, the shrink will most likely tell my parents. They'll probably throw me into Green Oaks like they do to every other fucking teenager just to get rid of us. I want to see a psychiatrist so fucking bad right now, but I'm not sure if that would be the best decision.

I've figured out some disturbing things about myself in the past few days. There's a part of me that wants to still deny it all, I honestly don't want to deal with the idea, but deep down I know it to be the truth. So what exactly was it that I figured out?

I believe I was raped by my step father when I was younger. More then once. How did I come to this conclusion? It explains so many things about myself. It explains why I cannot be sexual at all, it explains how I treat my parents so terribly, it explains how my mother is so dependent upon the father, it explains the confusion that I have always felt since I was a child, it explains how my life is virtually "perfect" yet I'm so fucked up, it explains the turmoil I feel within myself, it explains why I'm so tom boyish, and how I'm able to block things off so fucking easily. It explains why I'm still scared of the dark. It fits into the fucking puzzle perfectly. That scares me to no end. I don't know what to do at all.

I remember when I first mentioned it to Bettie. When I heard her opinion as to why I was not sexual, I felt the turmoil slap me in the face. The turmoil that I usually feel within me was vague. I knew it was there, but I never truly felt it. But that night I felt its full force. That's when I knew it to be true. I felt the little boy's presence and his anguish and pain. I heard his helpless cries. I've taken on some trait of that little boy because I dress all tom boyish and shit. From what I've gathered, I feel the little boy's age is about six. Maybe younger, I'm not sure. There's a large part of me still holding on to some part of my life when I was younger. There's a part of me that is living in that time. It's like I stayed there and never fully progessed past that age. It explains how I handle things in an immature way. I feel like I'm a kid stuck in a teenager's body with the mind set of an adult. I'm going in three different directions all at once.

Why do I feel that it is my step father? For one, the thought of that strikes a chord of fear within me and intuition tells me that it is him. It also explains how I can't remember much of my past. Or rather, I don't want to. It also explains how he is overly nice to me and how I'm not able to talk to him or even feel close to him. From what Bettie has said, she thinks he fits the profile of a rapist. I'm going to look up on that. What rapist are really like, their personalities and such, and then determine if this is really true. Last night, I was talking to Bettie about it again, and when I fully acknowledged that it was my step father I was scared to death. So scared I was at the brink of tears. I haven't felt so much fear since I was a kid. There's something about open doors that scare the living shit out of me. Last night, my bathroom door was open and I wanted so bad to close it, but I couldn't. I was scared that if I walked up there and tried to shut the door, something would jump out at me and hurt me. So I didn't shut the door. I didn't turn off my lights. I slept with them on and I hid under the blankets. That's what I always did as a kid when I was scared. Why do I think that it happened more then once? Because last night, when I experienced that fear, part of the reason behind it was that I didn't want it to happen again. It wasn't that kind of fear where, it happens once and then your scared of it happening again. It was the kind of fear like it happened way too many times, and I just wanted it to bloody stop because I wasn't sure I would be able to deal with it anymore if it happened another time. That kind of fear. I was so scared of being in that house last night. I had this fear that he would come up to my room and do what he did many times before and that no one would be able to hear my screams. No one would be there to help.

I've also determined that I've learned to turn off my sexual drive. With Bettie for instance, I can picture myself fucking her. I know what to do. But when I'm with her and we get physical, all of it is gone. I don't know what to do. Today, we got physical. My whole way home I was shaking. I hate myself. I hate the fact that I can't get sexual with her. I hate the fact that I suddenly lost all knowledge of what to do when the time arises. Some other part of me has control over me because of the little boy inside. I know why all of a sudden I was on the verge of tears when I took Bettie home. Jessica wants Bettie. She wants Bettie very badly. More then Bettie even knows. More then I can express. She wants to taste her, to feel her, to touch her, to surrender herself fully to her, to consume herself in her scent, in her touch, in her breath. There's a but. Someone else pushes it all down, pushes all the passion down to where it is just a vague buzzing in the back of my mind. Why? The little boy gets scared. The little boy doesn't want it. Someone, not me, has set up a security wall and that over rides everything that I desire. I'm fighting a battle within myself, and I constantly lose. It explains why I felt soo...I don't know today. I felt so lost, so confused. It explained why I was both scared and not scared. Why I wanted it but I didn't. Everything she did to me was soo god damn pleasureable, but at the same time everything I allowed her to do hurt the little boy. I HATE THIS. I'm so lost. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to handle this. I don't know who to talk to. I can feel myself losing control. All I want to do is please her. But I bloody CAN'T. I'm going to cry. I feel like I am betraying the little boy within me, Bettie, and myself. In the end, we all lose! Because all three of us aren't able to get what we want. I'm so sexually fustrated. God, this explains so much. It explains how for a very long time of my life, I found it disgusting to even hug people. I can feel the little boy's presence right now. He's mad at me. That's funny. No it's not. He's mad at me for letting Bettie do what she did and enjoying it. He can't understand why I enjoy it. He can't understand why I take pleasure in pain. He hates the struggle. I love the struggle. I love the fight. He hates all of that.

This is beyond anything I can handle alone. I can deal with everything else alone. Not this. This is something I need help in. I need advice. I need guidance. But who? Not my parents. No, they would deny it. I hardly think my mom is going to tell me that..."Oh yeah, your dad raped you when you were younger." It explains why my mom dislikes and treats my step-brother so unfairly. It also explains why she wasn't able to give me a proper reason as to why she treated him so. She's blocked it off as much as I have. Now, I can feel the vibe around my dad. I can feel that he's hiding something.

Someone. Help.

If I find this to be true. I'm willing to forgive my step father.