I’m still here

Right now I am looking at myself in the mirror. I see scars and pain… I wanna see something more and I refuse to leave this spot while condemning myself for any lack of perfection I think I have…
……Deep breath…….

after all those scars, the wounds and bruises inflicted on me by others and myself, after the trials that I was not supposed to survive – I am still standing right here. I’ve been told that I was gonna die by healthcare people way too many times… But here I am. I don’t know where I am going, but I do know where I have been. I’ve been through chemo therapy after being diagnosed with leukemia late teens, the after math of being hit by lightning, In a freak of nature I was buried under 3 feet of cold dark earth, a stroke after a blow to the head when I was 13 and a second one ten years later, I have walked across red hot coals and my feet still work. I have been forced to do things I never wanted to do in the first place, and remained innocent, I’ve felt huge breaking in my heart – and as I place my hand over my heart I can feel the beating is still very strong. I cannot move like I could when I was young, but I can move. If surviving and enduring was the goal then I have fucking done it!

I have this scar on the right side of my face from a dog bite when I was younger. Even the placement of the scar is happy (see image below).
I have a tat and other marks of similar origin that hold some good memories of their own. I have had broken ribs, my left knee, fingers and toes, and torn ligaments. Still, none of these things have taken that spark out of my eyes. I can carry a tune with miraculous measure because I’m partially deaf, and my lungs struggle…
No one stole my happiness from me and I never gave it away either….
Though the world tried to turn me into a monster, I remain myself, Sabrina ‘blessed’ Malan !!!

I catch a slight grin from the image before me.

LOOK! In the mirror – d’âge moyen , yeux brillants , femme – she is smiling!

Now I breathe in deeply and share in the grin from my reflection.
I’m ready, I straighten my fucking victory crown and wink at her… I’m gonna walk out of here like a mother fucking boss!!!!!


Journal Entry

Journal entry March 8th, 2018

I saw my therapist yesterday and the fear inside me is big. I’m not proud of that, in fact I feel a great deal of shame and guilt around it. Still, I’m wanting to work through it. I have all these memories but I’ve had them without the emotional attachments for each memory… Yesterday I felt the slightest twinge of a single one and it was too much for me. I don’t even know which memory it was.
I feel so ….inexperienced…

Ok that’s the wrong word… So much like I’m in alien territory …that’s not even it…


I had been told that I’m an object 35 of my 38 years in this life… Objects have no feelings and no rights to having feelings so I was traumatized and violently trained to send them away. I was also admonished vehemently that if I felt them, I was to immediately cut my skin and force them back. I was instructed to do this but didn’t for many years until the abuse was ever so much worse and when I did seek out help no one would believe me let alone help me… The instructions from there only get worse…

So I’ve been through so much of my memories with the police, the FBI, and state Attorney Generals but I’ve never experienced the full effect of the memories because I have not experienced the full brunt of the memory’s emotional part. Hell, I haven’t felt much of any of the hard stuff…
Feeling alone and overwhelmingly abandoned has been most definitely my weakest and my most vulnerable point… Or so I thought. This was the only feeling I was allowed and it was severely enforced.
Parts in my head cry out that it’s just not fair. The abuse was awful enough to survive why must we have to experience it again and again and again…
We know it will eventually be settled but the amount of tears to be shed and heart break to be felt seems pretty daunting.
I’m afraid of it. Mostly because I feel most days I’m barely hanging in there. Still, my therapist says I’m not alone. She says, and on some level I know that many feel this way and also suffer these self same deprivations and insecurities…
So in that light I’m trying to remember that I’ve made my suffering public to encourage others to be brave, to reach deep down inside and face the inner demons that have plagued our lives… And though it’s hard, the hardest thing I’ve ever done, the hardest thing we’ll ever do…
I’ll do it because in doing so I’ll be here for the many that I’ve pledged my loyalty to… The many brothers and sisters throughout the world that share in this experience with me…
I’ll keep doing this for those lost as well, (especially my babies,).

It is in my heart to be strong, as I’m able, for the ones that died under the weight of this trauma…those lucky enough to have escaped the prolonged torture. For the ones that could not bare the weight whether mentally and or physically. For those left behind in the healthcare system and for the 1.5% of the world’s population that are just like me… I longed to have someone that could show me the way. I needed guidance and care. And in my searching I’ve been lead to help lead others… How strange and bizarre is that? And I’m the search I’ve found the help and support I’ve always needed.

So I will stand up and say Yes this did happen. Yes this does still happen… and yes it happened to me.
I might be the face of a movement but I’m no where near the only face in the movement. I’ve felt so alone for so long…. and now I see that in of all this
I never truly was.

Help needed

Yesterday a ‘friend’ of mine (who I let get close to me and know my story etc) told me he was going to come over for a visit around the 28th or so of this month. Then he told me that he was going to punch me in the liver and ribs. That he was going to slap the grin right off of my face because I was the most horrible and judgemental person on the planet.
He told me this through a video chat. He was drunk.
I have been friends with him for many years now.
I know I’m not perfect. I make mistakes like every other human does. But, I never threaten physical injury to others, especially ones that I know have endured so much…
When I have told people they roll their eyes and tell me – he was drunk he didn’t mean it in fact he probably won’t even remember saying it… As if that makes everything bloody normal and perfect.
This has been my entire life. I’d say something happened and those who could help me would roll their fucking eyes at me or I’d say what bad things were gonna happen and the same damn people whom I was pleading to for help, would roll their eyes at me allowing the bad things to happen.
Today, I even had one guy tell me that I had a greater chance of getting struck by lightning than this guy actually showing up…
Well guess what, I’ve been struck by lightning.
Let me make this perfectly Fucking clear – threats like this are not a joke. I’ve never made it up before and I’m sure as hell not gonna start now. You don’t have to believe me but for god’s sake don’t mock me for trying to get help in a scary situation just because it’s never happened to you. That doesn’t mean it never happens. And those who have been seriously hurt are more commonly hurt again and not believed AGAIN because too many of you so called “normal people” cannot handle the fact that your world might be affected if you do believe us.
I’m livid. This isn’t right. This isn’t decent. This isn’t what I want in my life any more. I don’t want to be the perpetual victim. I don’t want to be hurt again and again. I don’t want to be thought of as crazy simply because you ‘sane’ people have never been brutalized. I also don’t want you to be hurt like that. I don’t want violence spread simply so you can understand me better. I have the facts. There is reality in my words and in these threats. I even have witnesses. So, if you cannot appreciate the value of a person like me actually crying out for help, then with all do respect – back the fuck away from me – so that I can find someone that can. I don’t need patronizing garbage and company line politics. I need help. And I need help Now.

Post Script :
When all else fails make a police report. Believe it or not simply making the report about the threat of violence then making sure they know it’s been reported will stop it. Why? 90% of all threats of violence are made by cowards. Shine any light on them and they retreat. That’s why in the morning I’m making the report.
Because any threats of abuse will have been reported and that will lead back to them… This will be your leg to stand on when the police come to you after and ask you, did you make a report… Instead of, why didn’t you make a report…

Update: I wrote the above portion 10 hours ago. Since then I received a text message from this ‘friend’

My response- I’m very disappointed in your behavior. With everything you know about me, to say those things while telling me to shut up and listen to you say them… I’m very hurt. Not simply because of the things you said, but because no one believed me still. However, I am proud to have been your friend. I will always cherish those little bursts of laughter and everytime I see a hippo I’ll smile because we had lots of good times. I’m sad it ended at all but truly sad it is because of this. I do wish you the best and I hope one day you’ll find happiness and rest for your soul and that you’ll finally be able to make peace with the demons you cling to so ferociously. We’ve come far you and I. Take care of yourself ******. I do not regret our friendship but I’ve come as far as I’m willing to go. God be with you.
Please don’t contact me again.

I hope you happiness and peace


Wanting the love of a living Mom and Dad who won’t be a Mom and Dad

This is intended for grown up child victims of extreme abuse and neglect from their biological parents

Like you, I don’t have access to my biological parental unit… And I’m very happy about the relationships I do have, but it is natural to want organic fulfilling connections like a mother and a father. For many of us the dearth of learning from a father and loving from a mother has created an even deeper emptiness and voracious hunger for that which will never be. Many because the actual people still live but the parenting ability does not live in them. It’s one thing to be an orphan. It is quite another to feel rejected, unloved, neglected, and unwanted by the biological parent that still takes breath. I’m in this struggle with you. I feel that yearning deeply as well. I want to tell you that they can be replaced. I want to tell you that you can make deep friendships that will take their place. I want to believe that they (the living parent that doesn’t behave in a way that makes them parental) can change and one day be the loving parent we want, You want, I want… And I cannot stop hoping for it myself… But I’m learning that no matter if they change (and that’s a huge ‘if’) we cannot get the time back that we spent pinning for their love, yearning for their teachings, and desperately needing their protection and care… I’m sorry to be the one that brings the reality of this situation to the light. I’m sorry because it hurts me to say it as I’m certain it’s not un-painful to read. But, even though you and I share no biological connection, we share many things that no one else does. We have heart break, yes, but we also have similar wants and desires. We suffer in a way that can, if we allow it, help us to support each other in a way that most simply have no understanding nor the ability to do.

I’m here for you. I know this doesn’t make sense, and I know we have never met, but I do. If you should ever have need, message me. We can laugh and cry together. I’m so glad you are in this world. I’m so glad you shared your feelings. And I’m very glad that you are you. All my ♥

Old Friend New Enemy

I saw you when you walked into the restaurant You were guilty but full of smiles

I heard you whisper to your guest, LIES self-pity in all the styles

I have no fear of you reading this since reading was never to your liking

You live your lie so fast and swift, and you your hair you are still spiking

You saw me at the other place – you froze and shared and cried

I noticed it was the same old garbage you spewed forth as you lied

I do not hate you, as you go, in fact, I mostly wish you well

And after all that, I can do and as far as I can tell

You are still living the same, (ahem) your same old hell

So this poem devoted to you; you never may ever read

But if there is anything I can do, find in someone else a need

For I can’t help you anymore

On your knuckles, I have banged close the hard oak door

And it’s okay if you wear a frown

‘Cause you are now infamous I’ve got you all written down

Why did you have to show your face

I could be angry any place

But you have iced up the room

Be off with you upon your broom

Fly away into the fog.  Tail between legs you female dog

Never again to show yourself

With you is dearth, without you wealth

Ha ha ha! And a great big goodbye

With pants on fire and a needle in your eye

Fuck you and all your promises – broken

You lied far beyond the simple token

My heart, my hope all the truth I have shared

Fell on deaf ears while my soul I bared

You did more than stomp on my desire

You dumped gasoline on my skin and lit me on fire

Then to put me out – so you said

You completely emirs my poor little head (in mud)

Why couldn’t you just leave me alone

Quit calling and texting me on the phone

Not until I wasn’t nice once did you say you were done

Surgery, you said was worse yet asked 50 times worse than being attacked?

50 times worse than being attacked?

Yes! Of course! you were in pain

As you tore through my heart in horrific disdain

I did not want to think that I gave you this power

But you can’t know the sweet without tasting the sour

Your betrayal was all up front and close but I pretended to not see it

Still, ice woman you were the most

The most painful relationship I’ve, in a long time, had

Leading me to think I loved you? Shit, was I mad?

Confusion totally swept over me

Because you told me you were in need

The need to see someone crawling towards you

I became your servant not knowing what to do

So now you talk about me behind my back

I thought I’d care, but I just laugh

From the look in your eyes, I can tell

You’re giving me the power you try to pretend so well

I do not know what will become of this poem my dear

Our paths are forever parted, that much is clear

So, as you walk out the door, I will think of you one time more

And send a small blessing out your way

To, perhaps have you see, one great day

That you’re not the center of everything.

You’re not the only one who can sing.

I will cross my toes and fingers too,

In this little prayer for you

That one day you will see the light

No longer will you put up a fight

For fear of things that go bump in the night

But that you may truly be truly free

God bless you my once friend,

Now, leave me be.

For the new year….

So, I have a ton of baggage that needs to be unloaded, but in the mean time I want to focus on the fun tender stuff as well.  so here I go.

Today my boyfriend sent me a sweet text and made my heart all warm and gooey… silly bri.  I just love it when he does that.  It just makes me so happy.

You don’t ‘own’ me…anymore!!

I am a happy girl.  I was born happy and still to this day I am happy.  But, that doesn’t mean that there haven’t been times when I was upset.  That doesn’t mean that nothing has ever happened to me and it certainly doesn’t mean that I don’t know heartbreak.

My life hasn’t been easy and I don’t have all the money in the world and there have been many times that my will was devoured by those that could and did claim my physical person as their property.  But they never had my heart!  They never had possession of my thoughts, intents, desires, and personal ideals.  When I was bound and locked up they could not lock up my mind – and oh how I soured!

I saw death, despair, maleficent acts of every kind, but I am not what happened to me nor am I what happened to those around me.  I am who I have always been in my heart and in my mind.  I look for magic in everything, like children do.  I want to experience so many things that I never had the opportunity to before.  My physical freedom has only proven to ignite my inspirations and my desires to be happy and share happiness…to show love and be loved!!!

My life is successful because I am.  I have survived, but I haven’t lived.

I want to live everyday ON PURPOSE!!!!

And that is what I intend to do.

Propositions from Purgatory

He said, “I have no heart…..I am hollow…..everything else is sore.”

I said, “Then I will tear mine in two and place one half in you. That way when we’re together we will be whole…and when we’re apart we will long for one another all the more.”

Then he replied, “I truly wish it was that simple but you put something so sweet inside the breast of something so dark and evil would only cause the purity of yours to wither and die in agonizing sorrow.”an_angel_and_demon_in_love_by_gravityninjax-d64j3nu

Then he added, “Do not weep for me I am already dead …weep for what I am….”

My nature and character trembled to consider his intense isolation.  Longing to hold him in my arms, I whispered, “You have much credibility in dealing with this darkness, still even amidst all of your doubt if you truly love me and can feel my love for you… The transfer has already begun. I don’t claim to be pure Anything but rather an eclectic collage of joyous survival in a vast sea of immeasurable degradation and torture… I bring peace and war…but in ways you have never darkly enjoyed as ferociously as this.”