Fake awake.

I spent so much of my 'growing up time' in a pretend state of sleep and now I spend much of my time in a state of "pretend awakeness". Every morning when I get up from bed I am in an immediate state of 'fake awakeness': Like a heavy fog blanket that I keep over myself; my blanket of "not-knowingness". (It must be a good indicator of how little people know about dissociative disorders based on the rather large number of words and sayings that I have to invent to try to describe living with it.) I woke up about two hours ago and like every morning I want to crawl right back into bed. So after I walk the dogs and feed them I usually DO get back into bed... unfortunately that never feels very good either. When I do get back into bed I am "too awake" and the room is "too light" and my mind and my body feel "too aware"... I told myself I was not going to write on this blog- that I was just going to use it as a place to post my art work (several reasons for this...). In large part though I thought I would not write because I feel like my writing is not good enough, eloquent enough, well-spoken-enough. (Case in point....) I also know that not talking about sexual abuse is the exact thing that allows it to keep happening- secrecy is a main ingredient!!! So I am going to try to write on this blog and not get so hung up on every sentence and word that I become unable to speak again at all. I don't really want to write about having been abused honestly... but who would? People don't want to talk about it... and most of the time neither do I. A lot of people don't want to listen (understandable since it is so horrific). That said: I would rather suffer a little more trying to write some of my thoughts onto this blog than I would to just keep silent and let the exact thing that got me here in the first place (silence) continue to hold me (and other survivors of abuse) in a "pinned place". So this blog is largely about my art which is largely about my life... which unfortunately the first 17 years of which did not 'go so well'. *And by 'not go so well' I mean: a whole lot of abuse. Followed by another ten years of struggling in silence until I would finally meet a therapist whom I could tell EVERYTHING to and that brings me to the present- in which I spend a grossly large amount of time trying to deal with and accept what really happened to me in my past. All while I work the full time job of not killing myself (literally). And also (in the present) I try to actually BE IN THE PRESENT and recognize that I am safe now and I can live a totally different life. Like I said- I don't really want to write about these things- I wish none of this had ever happened to me- but it did happen and when I turn to others looking for support and I do something like type the word 'incest' into a blog search and find about 95% of the results lead to porn.... Well, I begin to feel obligated to use both my art AND my voice. Not only in the hope of saving my own life but as I said to my friend yesterday: I feel like if all the art I make from now on and everything I write or say about my past- if somehow any of it can help one person (even a little bit) or if it can help to alleviate even the smallest bit of suffering from one survivor or somehow prevent one person from from hurting ONE child- it would be worth a life time of work.