Life Through The Eyes of Stacy

I have lived with depression as long as I can remember.  It didn't have a name to me, but it was a very strong and heavy burden on my heart. I wanted everyone to like me and when I was disliked, reprimanded or told no it felt like I was a bad person... I can remember as a child feeling such strong and crippling empathy for my family as well as our pets. I would take on other people's problems, pain, stress that I could not sleep. I cried constantly. I don't know if that emotion came before or after being sexually abused but I imagine either way it did not help. Growing up I tried very hard to be good for my parents.  They had their hands full with my older brother so I kept quiet, did my chores and whatever else was expected of me. After my brother left the house and went onto jail, I guess I became unable to quiet my suffering any longer . I voiced my pain and shame through slicing up my arms. But oddly enough, the people I needed the attention from~my parents~didn...

Love is~ ??? I have nothing.... I have felt like I've experienced it, felt it being given to me but then I'm not sure... Like a dream I can't reach It eludes me so I push it away. So many years of being hurt, disrespected and worse, unread by others~ Not just my words~ (These very words) But my heart, my very soul. Am I just a fulfillment to a void she left behind? Am I here because she isn't? My voice tells me, "Of course you are.... You wouldn't be here otherwise." So where would I be?  What, why, where am I? I cannot will not  be defined anymore by a man's love~ I will not feel like "less" because I reach out and he does not reach back. I will NOT hold my breath waiting for any man's kiss or love or validation anymore. This is me... Crazy with thoughts, talking too much but honestly, with desire to do better, to breathe life better and always living through my heart. ...

The bed he throws me onto is soft with sheets but strangling my freedom. "NO" "STOP!" I cry. He either doesn't hear or care that this 17 year old is a virgin and only the alcohol burning through my blood allowed him to lead me from the party. The bed is like a slab of nails beneath but the worse is his arms, his legs holding me down. And his eyes empty of all and any emotion but desire. The force of his body on mine... and no one can hear my screams for help. "No! Please Stop! Please, God! No! I don't want to!" His silence is worse than any words he could say. He's interested in one thing and he's pushing his way into me, my soul  and the lies I told myself that nothing bad can happen slip away and are replaced with hate of myself. A friend outside the bedroom is calling, begging through the noise  "Are you Okay?" but his buddies won't let her through. Damn vodka, damn trust. 17 years old  and...

I suffer with each word I write.. Like I am taking each jagged  and broken piece of me into my hands and etching it onto the screen. When will it stop hurting?  When will I finally find peace? © 2014 Stacy J French (Roosa) (All rights reserved)

Putting aside the very angry and scary outbursts, the threats and the fear you could draw out of me as you came at me with anger burning in your eyes, I want to explain why I left you... We were married 15 years and to all that looked on, we seemed to be a happy couple. Awesome kids, a home...I was all smiles and positive. It was my privilege to stay home with the kids 24/7 while you worked hard. When you came home I had dinner ready, the house clean and the kids and I were always thrilled to see you. You used to listen to me ramble on. Anyone who knows me realizes that I have a LOT going on in my mind all at once and that if I feel it, I need to share it verbally. I imagine I wasn't very calming when things were stressful. I tried to leave it in my journal, think and worry on it quietly and fix whatever was going on in my mind on my own. But I always showed you my love for you...Even when I doubted yours for me.  You barely shared your emotions. I couldn't fathom that. It...

I don't use the "hate" word often because I realize the weight and power I am giving to the person or thing in my mind and that I am wasting such a strong emotion on them when they or it isn't worth my energy. But, in fact, there are things I hate and I am ready and willing to put them out here so I can, I hope, let these controlling emotions go. 1. I hate, hate HATE having my picture taken. There are few pictures of me. The snapshots that are in our family album as a baby up until I was a teenager are all the ones I have that I ever want to see...and even those make me cringe. The ones I have on my facebook pages are all self portraits taken by myself, up close and very carefully taken, deleted then retaken until I looked half way okay. I realize most people don't like to see pictures of themselves but it seems that I are among few who have a very deep desire to cut myself out of any picture with me in it. Am I ugly? I'm certainly not pretty, but no, I a...