survivor

I found three

i found three
new
born
kittens

squealing

a box
wrapped in white strips of nylon

no, not the box
the kittens

i untied them from the nylon
and more nylon

they remained tied to each other

the vet used surgical scissors
their umbilical cords had been tied together

newborns, their eyes still closed

three baby kittens

i fed them baby milk
i kept them warm
i put them on soft fabrics
i sang to them and held them

oh, but one died

and i buried him

and another died

and i buried him

The third one lived
The third one opened his eyes
The third one grew fur
The third one yawned and drank and purred

Every day I loved his little lion cheeks more
Every day I counted one more day of health and strength

All night he squealed and cried
All night I lay awake

Was he crying for the life he knew?
For the life he now knew that he was losing?

Was he crying from pain?
His cries were shrill and desperate

He cried for hours

With the morning his body stiffened

Can i blame you?

Still, you had the strength to grow and  to live even after what had been done to you.

You had the courage to try even after you had been taken from your mother and had been tied and twisted to your brothers by your umbilical cord

And that strange white nylon that was ripped into strips
that ensured that your death would be gradual

little guy
i love you

rats

The Rat

the rat
rolled
glued
the metal
the cage

electric shock
system
wires clamped
genitals
rats

barbed wire
sawed
twisted

small
female
hole

i lay
rats gnaw
raw rats

gnawed away

in the corner of my childhood

room

the beast

It has been a good day. Yesterday too. I brought my pink fliers to the pain clinic today. On wed. they will be put out. I wonder if women will contact me.


The Beast

the camel
tied
his nose to the stake in the ground

Every move
rips
Every move
tears
Every move
salt and snot

Every blink
nails into the beasts eyes

The beast breathes
the beast eats
the beast cries

The beast hears laughter
sees movement

the beast's nostrils open and close

the beast rips its face out of the metal noose

only to know
that the noose is inside
embedded in its flesh

and there is nowhere
no way to escape

the laughter and the sun grate
themselves against the iron

beast die
die, beast die

the beast cannot die

die

beast

die

damn you, die

the fight and the flag

Three days in bed, three days of rain and tears, three more days of my life lost to this horrible condition. Three days wishing that my life could end with a final period . now .

And then, the awakening, the coming back to life, the fighter in me pushes its way out from the dark abyss. I don't even feel her until she has made it through to my throat, until the tears turn into wrenched sobs and here she is, again. I know her so well, sometimes i wish that she would die too. But she does not. She fights with her spirit and she has a spirit that is much larger and much braver then me. She comes up out of the dungeon, out of the depression with pretty pink posters : SUPPORT GROUP FOR GENITAL PAIN SYNDROMES.  She bought  the pink/violet paper many months ago. She carried it on her back even though she knew that she was carrying too much. She had plans and they were going to be pink and violet. Most of all, they were going to be. This is me.

Truly, this has always been me, only that now the pain pins me down. And she, she keeps on going. Despite the despair, despite the loss, despite the pain, she is waving pink paper. She is fighting for her survival. Don't ask me why.

I would prefer to just end it now. Like I said, with a clean round plump or dehydrated period.
She, she still has so many plans for me.
The pain.
Sometimes we fight it together. And sometimes we split.
I am not quite sure what we are fighting for.
Whatever it is, it is much larger then me.
I have been destroyed and crushed by the pain long ago. I am ember.

She, on the other hand will be sure to take a picture of the pink paper and to post it here. Trust me, I know her so well.

Victory is earned so tediously. I finally got the okay to put my posters in the pain clinic. But only on wed., the day that Dr. Volovska is in the clinic.

I put a pile two weeks ago. I was told it was okay. Then I found out that they were all thrown away, dumped in the garbage, in the bin. How sweet, I wonder if the paper was recycled. My effort and the ink won't be recycled. I had to call and call again and one more time and maybe this time and I will not give up this time and I am depressed and in bed and in pain and this time.....thank you, I will use my pink/violet paper this time. Another little step, another little step towards getting her the support she needs.

The Video

Tomorrow we continue working on the video. I hope I can get some beauty sleep. I wish my room could get some too, but I think that I will have to clean it.

Lyla Tov Neshamot Tehorot
(Hebrew:goodnight pure souls)

Today i can write

When I was deep in suffering and certain that my destiny was to suffer the endless torture of pne (pudendal nerve entrapment) and to eventually end it by some form of suicide..... I was unable to write much. I was terrified of everything, the ring of the phone made my heart race...noise, light... my brain was only pain, my mind was only pain, everything else was unreal, belonged to another world, a world that I once inhabited, a world that I desperately wanted to return to....I lay chained, stakes through my pelvis and up into my vagina. I cried in a way that I never had known before, wrenched out from a place within myself that I never knew existed.  A place? A dungeon of hell, of torture with no end in sight except by my own hands. How do you mourn the loss of your own life? And how do live with such torture? You don't. You don't live. You suffer desperately, endlessly. You suffer being cut up, sliced, burnt, electrocuted, twisted and wrenched ....and stabbed and stabbed and you cannot fathom that this is really what is happening to you. You cannot fathom pain that is so absolutely mind-blowing, pain that leaves you wishing you could tear your own body into pieces, pain that none can see,,,,
over and over, hour after hour, day, night, day, night..... I thought that I would go insane. I thought that I would lose my mind. I wanted to rip my self out of my body.

I am trying to balance things out here. Today I am better. Today, usually, there is one knife deep inside my vagina. It is exhausting and difficult and I cry. But I live too and I live a lot and I know that I have not gone insane and I know that life can be stronger then this god-damn condition and I know that I can see and feel things that I could not before. I am no longer only in pain. I am in pain, but I am in life too. And I can enjoy what life offers again.

So, I am trying to balance things here. I guess also for my readers and for myself . The horror is real. But today unlike then I can see and feel the beauty of the flowers. Then I could see the flowers but I could not feel them. That was scary too. Everything around me was unreal. And the life that I had lived belonged to a different me.

Until slowly I gained 'me' back and life began to teach me its wonders again.
I take pictures of the spring.

last spring i did not feel the spring
i did take pictures of the flowers
and i saw their beauty
this spring i see the flowers differently
my god, they are so beautiful
so so beautiful

i can feel them in a way that i never have before
i look inside of them and i see

i see and feel them
and i thank them

for their incredible

beauty

Drawings from my diary

These are drawings from my diary from about a year 

and a half ago when my pain/suffering was at its worst

drawing from my diary; please allow me to die

day in, day out, broken and exhausted, morning and night

why are you torturing me like this? why must i suffer like this?

no arms, no legs

father, must a child live for their parent?
week, month, year

time is caged in my pelvis

let me go

god damn this hell