Dear Journal,
Today at session we talked about my high blood pressure issue. The main reason why I'm even going to this thing.When did it start how did I realize and all that jazz. She knew the times because of my doctor but this was more about getting inside of my head. She of course accomplished this with much resistance of course. I wouldn't be me if I didn't put up a fight.
Heart attack #1 and the realization of high blood pressure:
It was the weekend that my cousin Sam and his wife had passed away. I was sad about the situation and I handle my issues a little different from most. Since I only had myself for quite some time, that's how I deal with things; by myself alone in my own head. While trying to deal with this, my babes was upset as well. Due to something that his brother had said about him sucking as a brother or something that really ticked him off. I of course started to worry more about him and his issue, i tried my hardest to try to lend my support to him. That of course ended in a backlash w/ not so nice words. Me of course being the brat that I am and dealing with what was going on in my head, I really wanted nothing to do with him for the rest of the night. So I stayed quiet and kept to myself. This actually helped let me process my own thoughts and the tragedy that had just struck my family once again. It hadn't even been a year prior to him mothers passing and everyone was still grieving and collecting their thoughts on that.Then the unexpected tragedy of Sam and Denise taken way too soon, it was a lot to bare.
After a sleepless night I woke up remembering that i shouldn't hold a stupid grudge against my boyfriend and that the 2 are in a better place with Aunt Mary. So I tried to turn over and hold Comy in my arms but by then he was furious with me. It started with the slamming of the drawers and cabinets. Then came the vacuum at 7 IN THE FUCKING MORNING! LIKE SERIOUSLY!
I knew I had to talk to him to try to get him to calm down and figure out what the hell his issue was. That was until I saw the note by the bed saying he'd take me home. I figured he didn't want anything to do with me anymore so I should just leave him alone. Sadly I got up and started getting ready to leave. That's when I saw the note that set me off. I felt my blood hit a high that I haven't felt in years. All I could see was red and I was fucking furious. I had it by that point and I went to confront him about. I tried to make my case as best I could being that angry. I knew I had to walk away from that situation because I knew it was not going to end pretty. I would have either punched his lights out or I would have said something that I would have regret. Then the biggest pain that i have ever felt in my chest struck me like lightening. I had no idea what to do but clench it. My mind was going insane over the huge blow out I had just had w/ comy and the pain that was shooting through my body. I thought it was just my heart breaking because of the fight and the reason for it, but that couldn't have been just that. I've felt my heart seriously break before and it felt nothing like that.
On the way home I couldn't find a word to say. The pain completely over took me like no other, My mind was going wild and it was telling me that once he dropped me off that I had to finally just call it quits. I couldn't take being in another mentally stressful relationship again. I was just fucking tired of crying over some stupid shit he did or said. My poor aching heart couldn't take in anymore. I literally felt like I was dying and all I could do was cry. It's not like if I actually said something about the excruciating pain I was in, would have fucking mattered. Especially because the whole fight was based on feelings.
We of course made up. But the pain didn't seem to go away. I was so confused on why it hadn't by now. I must have been really broken up about the events. When something bad happens my mind always lingers on it a little longer than it should. I figured that was the only problem but I went to the hospital anyway. That's when I found out the my blood pressure has been off the roof and I suffered from a slight heart attack. After everything I have been through I just didn't even care. If I die, I die. If I live, I live. What the fuck ever though. It's not like people really give two rat asses about me anyway.
I've had 2 more that I could get accounted for since then. The second one was during the last and second time that I convinced myself that I had to leave Comy to save myself. I couldn't take the pain he was putting me through anymore. Everyone wonder why I even stayed in that situation. Sam told me that she was going to break me if I didn't break up with him."If he caused you to have a heart attack what makes you think his bitch ass deserves you at all?" She would say to me all the time. My response would always be, " 1st of all he doesn't know because he'd probably beat himself up for it and it wasn't even his fault! Anything could have caused it! I'm always stressing out." "Over him!" She would always retort. "But I really love him more than anything! I just can't leave him..." The argument would always end with an annoyed sigh and a "Fine! Do whatever the fuck you want! He's going to going to kill you!" I guess she didn't want me going through what I did with her cousin (Aaron). I guess to her I looked like was spiraling down that path again. I put myself in harms way and constantly go out of my way for, just to be with someone who couldn't even respect me enough not to do the only few things I ask him.
I guess I gave him an ultimatum without even meaning to do so. Everything just hurt so much that day. I couldn't even look him in the eye. It just hurt way too much. My heart, my head, I knew if I did I'd call it quits for good. I had already convinced myself throughout the relationship that I loved him more than anything else and he needed me. I couldn't leave him. Even after he told me that I was nothing but a rebound due to his loneliness, because his ex didn't want to get back with him. Heartbroken because I thought he had found something special in me and he actually did love me but I guess it was just like all the other lies he told me. If I can stay then I could stay now. I think it would have killed me more to leave. I think the cause of my attacks are simulated from the thought of not being with him anymore.I have never blamed him for anything though like everyone else did. I know it's my fault. Everything has always been mine and mine alone. So I would never dare blame anyone for my tragedy and especially him.
Now we've been better than ever. He's happy with the life he's leading now I think..... I just hope I did make some kind of positive impact in his life like tells me I did. I'm just convinced that I can't do anything more than ruin someones life. Since that's what I've been told for years....
I think the stress of everything else has been the cause of my most recent attack. Wearing myself thin, bending over backwards for everyone else, and holding back myself from anything.
I'm always being stressed out, pushed to my limits, and wear myself thin for everyone else. Maybe because I truly enjoy doing it or maybe because I don't really know any better. I guess I feel better knowing everyone else is happy while I might not be. As long as no ones disappointed in me I can be reassured that I won't get too stressed out. I've learned to put my feeling and opinions aside for the benefit of someone else. Probably why I don't even have them or choose to even acknowledge them. It's not like what I feel or ever want to do is seriously accounted for. It's usually just pushed to the side or completely altered to the other persons liking. They will always win and I will always lose. So I just always say it's whatever so I won't come off disappointed even though I just might very well be. But like I stated before. Who really cares? No one... I just feel like no one truly gives a shit about anything or especially me. So why the hell should I. It's not like anything I say gets taken seriously; it just goes in one ear right out the other. Completely forgotten within the next 2 mins. If I don't contemplate on this kind of thing. Free myself to become some kind of 1 dimension robot maybe I'll be able to sustain my emotions and survive this fucked up world. keeping my thoughts and feelings bottled up isn't going to help either but, it's the only way I'm going to be able to keep my blood pressure down. Saving myself from having more heart attacks. My caring to much has finally become my demise.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Journal Entry #2
Dear Journal,
I know I'm suppose to be writing in this everyday but I really don't have the time. Since I'm at home sick and not drunk off my ass like everyone else today, I guess i'll do just that.
My week has been a roller coaster ride since my last post.
I managed to finally hang out with my big cousin Tuesday night. He owed me for the past couple of years and the only reason I feel he did take me out was because of my high blood pressure. We have a very awkward relationship but I guess it works for us. We tend to push the boundaries but I guess that's all we know. From what I can remember, it was shits and giggles.
All I know is I'm never drinking that much ever again. I have never been that drunk before where I didn't black out that night and had that bad of a hangover that next morning. I felt like I was dying. I hadn't had morning sickness like that since I was pregnant. That was total BULLSHIT! So I swear I'm not drinking that much ever again! Well at least until I come back and I have to go out with him and his friends again. AHAHA
Anyway.... So to mark the anniversary of the 3rd lowest point in my life. I typically go to the beach to think. I've been doing it for years and had the opportunity to continue on the tradition this year, thanks to the greatest man I have ever known. We went to Manhattan Beach, had dinner at that cool little cafe place called North End. Then we went and set on a bench at the beach and talked. Though it's hard for him to really understand and relate to my demons he tries his hardest to. He's quite the amazing man.
Gran finally finished our dresses and they look amazing! Exactly how I designed and imagined it. I'm super stoked about it. I'm really excited to go to Atlanta. I really need a change of scenery. I'm supper excited to see my high school friend/ twin Elea. I missed her big boobed life!
I'm finally out on spring break but I still have work to do. Fucking sucks ass! I tried to stay as late as I possibly could on Friday, but I couldn't. That of course was after I left home from hanging out with my crazy ass family. To top off my frustration of lack of completion, I run into Aaron's bitch ass. I just walked away and drowned out the bullshit he said. I think I'm finally coming to terms with the people and situations within my life. I told Comy that if I could actually just get a sorry from Aaron, I'd finally be able to free myself from this situation. Like that would ever happen! But w/ the help of Comy, I seem to slowly be moving past it. For this I owe him my greatest gratitude. He will never understand how much his support means to me. Even though I may not really show it.
So as of Tuesday I'll be on m way to the ATL. So excited! I've never been there before so I'm excited to see what it will bring. Hopefully my God-forsaken accent doesn't come back in full force... That'll be embarrassing like it always is. Last thing I need is to be called Carolina River Cricket again.... Well that's all that's on my mind for the time being.
Toodles!
I know I'm suppose to be writing in this everyday but I really don't have the time. Since I'm at home sick and not drunk off my ass like everyone else today, I guess i'll do just that.
My week has been a roller coaster ride since my last post.
I managed to finally hang out with my big cousin Tuesday night. He owed me for the past couple of years and the only reason I feel he did take me out was because of my high blood pressure. We have a very awkward relationship but I guess it works for us. We tend to push the boundaries but I guess that's all we know. From what I can remember, it was shits and giggles.
All I know is I'm never drinking that much ever again. I have never been that drunk before where I didn't black out that night and had that bad of a hangover that next morning. I felt like I was dying. I hadn't had morning sickness like that since I was pregnant. That was total BULLSHIT! So I swear I'm not drinking that much ever again! Well at least until I come back and I have to go out with him and his friends again. AHAHA
Anyway.... So to mark the anniversary of the 3rd lowest point in my life. I typically go to the beach to think. I've been doing it for years and had the opportunity to continue on the tradition this year, thanks to the greatest man I have ever known. We went to Manhattan Beach, had dinner at that cool little cafe place called North End. Then we went and set on a bench at the beach and talked. Though it's hard for him to really understand and relate to my demons he tries his hardest to. He's quite the amazing man.
Gran finally finished our dresses and they look amazing! Exactly how I designed and imagined it. I'm super stoked about it. I'm really excited to go to Atlanta. I really need a change of scenery. I'm supper excited to see my high school friend/ twin Elea. I missed her big boobed life!
I'm finally out on spring break but I still have work to do. Fucking sucks ass! I tried to stay as late as I possibly could on Friday, but I couldn't. That of course was after I left home from hanging out with my crazy ass family. To top off my frustration of lack of completion, I run into Aaron's bitch ass. I just walked away and drowned out the bullshit he said. I think I'm finally coming to terms with the people and situations within my life. I told Comy that if I could actually just get a sorry from Aaron, I'd finally be able to free myself from this situation. Like that would ever happen! But w/ the help of Comy, I seem to slowly be moving past it. For this I owe him my greatest gratitude. He will never understand how much his support means to me. Even though I may not really show it.
So as of Tuesday I'll be on m way to the ATL. So excited! I've never been there before so I'm excited to see what it will bring. Hopefully my God-forsaken accent doesn't come back in full force... That'll be embarrassing like it always is. Last thing I need is to be called Carolina River Cricket again.... Well that's all that's on my mind for the time being.
Toodles!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Journal Entry #1
Dear Journal,
1st of all, I can't believe I'm writing a journal but my therapist that I started seeing; no thanks to my doctor thinks it will be good for me. So I guess here goes nothing!
No thanks to my current health problems and problems from the past, I can't or just afraid of living my life like anyone else my age.
I'm only 22 years old and I have the body of a 60 year old. I've suffered from molestation, neglect, depression, suicide, abuse (mental and physical), rape, pregnancy, miscarriage, cancer, and high blood pressure.
To remind myself again, I'm only 22 years old. Who the fuck deals with all of that at my age?!
This starting to write journal entries could not have come at a more perfect or worse time. I've still haven't deciphered that part out yet....
Tomorrow will mark the 6 year anniversary of almost being beaten to death by my ex boyfriend which resulted in me having a miscarriage at 5 months and losing my baby boy; who I was planning on naming Jude after The Beatles song. This was of course after he raped me right before my 16th birthday. Some fucking present that was.
You might be wondering why my boyfriend would rape me? I'm still asking myself that very same question to this day.
It could be due to that fact that I'm ashamed and completely embarrassed about my body. After 5 years of being taught to believe, "I'm the most hideous thing on the planet and I should just kill myself so no one would have to be forced to look at your horrendous looking face ever again." (That's a direct quote.) It might be due to my gigantic gap. I think I have heard every gap joke in the book and still at least every week I hear some comment about it. I tried to teach myself to talk with my mouth not so wide but I guess I'm always around people who are use to it so I lost the skill. I still hate smiling in picture today. I said I'd never get married until I'd be able to actually smile for my picture. Or the fact that I have legs that inherited from my mother which cause me to have hair bumps that brings the hair back 2 minutes after you shave it off. Ever since junior high i'm way too embarrassed to wear skirts or shorts because of getting picked on by it. My BO has always been a problem for me. My family is smelly and I unfortunately picked that up from them as well. I do everything I can to avoid having to deal with what I did in middle school. The worst time in my life! It was so bad that after I left Warren Lane and actually avoided successfully committing many attempts of suicide, I thought the storm was done. I guess that's why they say, never say never. Or the two components that guys are supposed to be looking forward to see when seeing their women naked, i feel most ashamed about. My saggy boobs are a start. If only I was so afraid of wearing a training bra when I was suppose to because none of the other girls did and the boys would snap my bra straps until it made my back bleed. Or my weird looking vagina that pissed Aaron off so much that he tried to tie me down and cut it with a butcher knife so I would look like all the other girls. To avoid dying at the time I knew I had to fight him off. It ended with me having a bloody nose, black eye, and a broken arm but I guess it was worth it in the end. Yeah I had to lie about running into something, but my known clutzyness has saved me from my secrets and fears being brought to life.
It could be due to the fact that I was just too afraid of having sex. I was molested from the age of 4 to 7 by my much older cousin who was living with all of us at my Gran's house. He would sneak into my room in the middle of the night, close the door, then forcefully pull off my night clothes and have his way with me. If I made even the slightest sound, I'd get hit or chocked. He would kiss me all over and start penetrating me with his fingers. Then after he had enough of "eating me out" he'd finally leave out of my room and right before he would tell me that if I ever told anyone he'd kill my entire family. He finally went to jail but not on my behalf. Stealing is what finally got him in the end. 3 strikes and you're out right?
Up until we moved out of that house in 96' I would have nightmares about seeing his face and tongue between my legs, and that evil smirk he would always have upon his face. Even now I can't sleep by myself in the dark. I HAVE to sleep with some kind of nightlight. All the doors must be closed and unless the closet is small like the one I have now, that better be closed as well. I'm refuse to take any chances on any monsters attacking me at night anymore.
But that's just it. They have and I'm afraid they always will. Every since I was raped, the innocence, compassion for others and forgiveness was stripped away. Yes he use to talk to me like I was the scum on the bottom of his shoe. I was constantly a fucking annoying, stupid, whiny, hideously ugly, good for nothing slutty bitch who should just die and decrease the surplus population and when he hit me I should stop being a pussy and just take it. Yes I've actually seen the bottom of his shoes way to up close and personal. Being kicked in the head is quite painful. Because of this, I felt like I'm smart as I use to be and I probably got a few brain cells damaged. It takes me a lot longer now to catch on to things and I have the hardest time figuring out the most simple things. So I apologize to anyone I frustrate with my stupidity. I've had plenty of broken bones and sore cheeks, and my hair pulled out of my head due to being pulled around and swung like a rag doll. This is probably why I don't like people touching my hair at all now. I still have my crouches from when he threw me down the stairs and I twisted my ankle and my knee snapped out of place. Cuts and bruises and insults were a daily routine but he was all I had. At least that what i was trained to believe. He made me believe that he loved me and he would never hurt me like everyone else did. He would not abandon me and make me feel like I was a useless piece of shit like everyone else did. I should have known better.
How could I though. He did everything he promised. When know one was there he was. He told me I was beautiful when I was made fun of from 8:15am-2:45pm. He was my only friend when I had none. He told how smart I was even though my grades had went from A's to D and F's and I was on the verge of getting kicked out of the magnet program just to escape my tormenting. While my stuffed animals were being thrown in the dirt along with myself. While my backpack and all it's components were being ripped up and dumped into the trashcan. He was there to give me a new one. While the spit balls went flying into my hair and the glue was constantly poured into my chair, he was there. Through all my neglect and longing to like I was good enough for my family, he was with me through it all. How could I not trust him he made me believe I was on this world on purpose and their was now reason to take my own life. How could I not believe every word he said? How could I have known that trying to make myself better for him would be my demise? The new found positive attention I received and the new found confidence in myself was not for my benefit. Every complement I received was acknowledged with a painful backlash. I became a ungrateful slut in his eyes. He said every beating I got was due to the fact that I hurt him and I deserved it. He was right after, right? How could I live with the fact that I was hurting the man that I loved and loved me. If I didn't get it together he told me he'd leave me. I couldn't afford that. He told me that no one would ever want me but him. He told me that he was the best damn thing that had every happened to me and I believed that shit... You can probably still find patches of my blood all over his house. I eventually became so numb that nothing made me feel pain anymore. I lost my voice and all my power. That was until it happened.
The day my life went straight back to hell. The day I lost my trust in everything and everyone. The day I finally saw him for the piece of shit he really was. The ONE thing he knew I was trying to cherish he took away from me. My faith in the church and the joy of seeing another year crushed to pieces like all my dreams. It was a Saturday afternoon... My Birthday was that Wednesday and I was having a joint shin-dig with my friend at the beach that upcoming Saturday. I went to his house because he told me that he would not be able to attend since he had to take care of some stuff at the church for his dad, but that I should come over and we'd celebrate together. Over joyed at the fact he'd actually seemed to care for once I rushed over. His method to celebrating anything was getting into a fight with me right before so we'd be forced to break and he would have to do shit for whatever occasion it was. When I got there he made me sit down and watch tv with him. That was fine by me since we at least both agreed that Spongebob was one of the greatest shows ever. After awhile he told me he had a present for me. Shocked that he would actually do something nice for me, I didn't say anything. He asked me why I hadn't asked him what it was and I said I was too shocked to reply. His face slowly started to turn into a frown which was never a good sign for me. He told me to close my eyes and he'd take it out. I quickly did what I was told afraid of upsetting him. He told me to open my eye and I did. What was presented in front of me had me more shocked than the fact he wanted to give me something. He was completely nude and said that this was my present and I was going to enjoy it. I don't think I have ever been so terrified in my life. I tried my hardest to protest and run away but I couldn't. He started choking me with just one hand and started punching at whatever he could. He beat until I couldn't move anymore. That's when he let me have it. As hard as he could give it. I have never been in so much pain before in my life. I wish I could have died right then but I didn't. When I could finally bring myself to speak and ask him why he did it? He told me it was because he loved the feeling of a tight pussy.
Well back to the loss of Jude.... I still remember it like it was yesterday just like all the other heartache I've been through. Up until the day I lost him I never wanted kids. I thought they were just a hassle. Plus because of my irregular period I wouldn't be able to have one anyway so why should I let myself care. That's when I found out I was pregnant 2 months later. I was sick and more moody than I had ever been. I was already going through hell and the fact that I found out that I was carrying a life inside of me because of what happened scared the shit out of me. How could this be happening? That was all I could think of. What the hell did I do to deserve this? It happened the day I was pondering on finally telling my parents. I went to him to explain my options. None of them he apparently liked because that's when Mr. Hyde showed his true colors. He picked be up by the throat and slammed me against the wall. He said I would not be having that child if he had anything to do with it and he meant it. He dragged me across the house by my hair and slammed me into anything he could find. He started punch and kicking my stomach like a was a punching bag. The pain became so excruciating that I eventually passed out. The last thing i remember was the pile of blood that I was laying in. I eventually woke up in the hospital. Apparently Aaron had threw me in the car and drove me to the women's clinic and left me outside and some lady found me bleeding to death. After constant refusal for telling the police or calling my parents and having the mandatory abortion, I had Sam and Taylor come to pick me up. I made them drive me to the beach before they drove me home. It has always been the only place that I could truly clear my head. So for the past 5 years I have gone to the beach to remember how my life had changed within those past 5 months or could have if he didn't die so tragically.
Everyone tells me how scared I use to be of men for years. Every time they came around I would run and hide. I remember hiding under my grans glass table hoping they wouldn't see me. If I was forced to come out I'd put up a fight and have a huge fucking melt down. I guess I always knew they were no good from the start. Sometimes I wish I would have kept that mindset, it might have saved me from an eternity of pain...
No thanks to my current health problems and problems from the past, I can't or just afraid of living my life like anyone else my age.
I'm only 22 years old and I have the body of a 60 year old. I've suffered from molestation, neglect, depression, suicide, abuse (mental and physical), rape, pregnancy, miscarriage, cancer, and high blood pressure.
To remind myself again, I'm only 22 years old. Who the fuck deals with all of that at my age?!
This starting to write journal entries could not have come at a more perfect or worse time. I've still haven't deciphered that part out yet....
Tomorrow will mark the 6 year anniversary of almost being beaten to death by my ex boyfriend which resulted in me having a miscarriage at 5 months and losing my baby boy; who I was planning on naming Jude after The Beatles song. This was of course after he raped me right before my 16th birthday. Some fucking present that was.
You might be wondering why my boyfriend would rape me? I'm still asking myself that very same question to this day.
It could be due to that fact that I'm ashamed and completely embarrassed about my body. After 5 years of being taught to believe, "I'm the most hideous thing on the planet and I should just kill myself so no one would have to be forced to look at your horrendous looking face ever again." (That's a direct quote.) It might be due to my gigantic gap. I think I have heard every gap joke in the book and still at least every week I hear some comment about it. I tried to teach myself to talk with my mouth not so wide but I guess I'm always around people who are use to it so I lost the skill. I still hate smiling in picture today. I said I'd never get married until I'd be able to actually smile for my picture. Or the fact that I have legs that inherited from my mother which cause me to have hair bumps that brings the hair back 2 minutes after you shave it off. Ever since junior high i'm way too embarrassed to wear skirts or shorts because of getting picked on by it. My BO has always been a problem for me. My family is smelly and I unfortunately picked that up from them as well. I do everything I can to avoid having to deal with what I did in middle school. The worst time in my life! It was so bad that after I left Warren Lane and actually avoided successfully committing many attempts of suicide, I thought the storm was done. I guess that's why they say, never say never. Or the two components that guys are supposed to be looking forward to see when seeing their women naked, i feel most ashamed about. My saggy boobs are a start. If only I was so afraid of wearing a training bra when I was suppose to because none of the other girls did and the boys would snap my bra straps until it made my back bleed. Or my weird looking vagina that pissed Aaron off so much that he tried to tie me down and cut it with a butcher knife so I would look like all the other girls. To avoid dying at the time I knew I had to fight him off. It ended with me having a bloody nose, black eye, and a broken arm but I guess it was worth it in the end. Yeah I had to lie about running into something, but my known clutzyness has saved me from my secrets and fears being brought to life.
It could be due to the fact that I was just too afraid of having sex. I was molested from the age of 4 to 7 by my much older cousin who was living with all of us at my Gran's house. He would sneak into my room in the middle of the night, close the door, then forcefully pull off my night clothes and have his way with me. If I made even the slightest sound, I'd get hit or chocked. He would kiss me all over and start penetrating me with his fingers. Then after he had enough of "eating me out" he'd finally leave out of my room and right before he would tell me that if I ever told anyone he'd kill my entire family. He finally went to jail but not on my behalf. Stealing is what finally got him in the end. 3 strikes and you're out right?
Up until we moved out of that house in 96' I would have nightmares about seeing his face and tongue between my legs, and that evil smirk he would always have upon his face. Even now I can't sleep by myself in the dark. I HAVE to sleep with some kind of nightlight. All the doors must be closed and unless the closet is small like the one I have now, that better be closed as well. I'm refuse to take any chances on any monsters attacking me at night anymore.
But that's just it. They have and I'm afraid they always will. Every since I was raped, the innocence, compassion for others and forgiveness was stripped away. Yes he use to talk to me like I was the scum on the bottom of his shoe. I was constantly a fucking annoying, stupid, whiny, hideously ugly, good for nothing slutty bitch who should just die and decrease the surplus population and when he hit me I should stop being a pussy and just take it. Yes I've actually seen the bottom of his shoes way to up close and personal. Being kicked in the head is quite painful. Because of this, I felt like I'm smart as I use to be and I probably got a few brain cells damaged. It takes me a lot longer now to catch on to things and I have the hardest time figuring out the most simple things. So I apologize to anyone I frustrate with my stupidity. I've had plenty of broken bones and sore cheeks, and my hair pulled out of my head due to being pulled around and swung like a rag doll. This is probably why I don't like people touching my hair at all now. I still have my crouches from when he threw me down the stairs and I twisted my ankle and my knee snapped out of place. Cuts and bruises and insults were a daily routine but he was all I had. At least that what i was trained to believe. He made me believe that he loved me and he would never hurt me like everyone else did. He would not abandon me and make me feel like I was a useless piece of shit like everyone else did. I should have known better.
How could I though. He did everything he promised. When know one was there he was. He told me I was beautiful when I was made fun of from 8:15am-2:45pm. He was my only friend when I had none. He told how smart I was even though my grades had went from A's to D and F's and I was on the verge of getting kicked out of the magnet program just to escape my tormenting. While my stuffed animals were being thrown in the dirt along with myself. While my backpack and all it's components were being ripped up and dumped into the trashcan. He was there to give me a new one. While the spit balls went flying into my hair and the glue was constantly poured into my chair, he was there. Through all my neglect and longing to like I was good enough for my family, he was with me through it all. How could I not trust him he made me believe I was on this world on purpose and their was now reason to take my own life. How could I not believe every word he said? How could I have known that trying to make myself better for him would be my demise? The new found positive attention I received and the new found confidence in myself was not for my benefit. Every complement I received was acknowledged with a painful backlash. I became a ungrateful slut in his eyes. He said every beating I got was due to the fact that I hurt him and I deserved it. He was right after, right? How could I live with the fact that I was hurting the man that I loved and loved me. If I didn't get it together he told me he'd leave me. I couldn't afford that. He told me that no one would ever want me but him. He told me that he was the best damn thing that had every happened to me and I believed that shit... You can probably still find patches of my blood all over his house. I eventually became so numb that nothing made me feel pain anymore. I lost my voice and all my power. That was until it happened.
The day my life went straight back to hell. The day I lost my trust in everything and everyone. The day I finally saw him for the piece of shit he really was. The ONE thing he knew I was trying to cherish he took away from me. My faith in the church and the joy of seeing another year crushed to pieces like all my dreams. It was a Saturday afternoon... My Birthday was that Wednesday and I was having a joint shin-dig with my friend at the beach that upcoming Saturday. I went to his house because he told me that he would not be able to attend since he had to take care of some stuff at the church for his dad, but that I should come over and we'd celebrate together. Over joyed at the fact he'd actually seemed to care for once I rushed over. His method to celebrating anything was getting into a fight with me right before so we'd be forced to break and he would have to do shit for whatever occasion it was. When I got there he made me sit down and watch tv with him. That was fine by me since we at least both agreed that Spongebob was one of the greatest shows ever. After awhile he told me he had a present for me. Shocked that he would actually do something nice for me, I didn't say anything. He asked me why I hadn't asked him what it was and I said I was too shocked to reply. His face slowly started to turn into a frown which was never a good sign for me. He told me to close my eyes and he'd take it out. I quickly did what I was told afraid of upsetting him. He told me to open my eye and I did. What was presented in front of me had me more shocked than the fact he wanted to give me something. He was completely nude and said that this was my present and I was going to enjoy it. I don't think I have ever been so terrified in my life. I tried my hardest to protest and run away but I couldn't. He started choking me with just one hand and started punching at whatever he could. He beat until I couldn't move anymore. That's when he let me have it. As hard as he could give it. I have never been in so much pain before in my life. I wish I could have died right then but I didn't. When I could finally bring myself to speak and ask him why he did it? He told me it was because he loved the feeling of a tight pussy.
Well back to the loss of Jude.... I still remember it like it was yesterday just like all the other heartache I've been through. Up until the day I lost him I never wanted kids. I thought they were just a hassle. Plus because of my irregular period I wouldn't be able to have one anyway so why should I let myself care. That's when I found out I was pregnant 2 months later. I was sick and more moody than I had ever been. I was already going through hell and the fact that I found out that I was carrying a life inside of me because of what happened scared the shit out of me. How could this be happening? That was all I could think of. What the hell did I do to deserve this? It happened the day I was pondering on finally telling my parents. I went to him to explain my options. None of them he apparently liked because that's when Mr. Hyde showed his true colors. He picked be up by the throat and slammed me against the wall. He said I would not be having that child if he had anything to do with it and he meant it. He dragged me across the house by my hair and slammed me into anything he could find. He started punch and kicking my stomach like a was a punching bag. The pain became so excruciating that I eventually passed out. The last thing i remember was the pile of blood that I was laying in. I eventually woke up in the hospital. Apparently Aaron had threw me in the car and drove me to the women's clinic and left me outside and some lady found me bleeding to death. After constant refusal for telling the police or calling my parents and having the mandatory abortion, I had Sam and Taylor come to pick me up. I made them drive me to the beach before they drove me home. It has always been the only place that I could truly clear my head. So for the past 5 years I have gone to the beach to remember how my life had changed within those past 5 months or could have if he didn't die so tragically.
Everyone tells me how scared I use to be of men for years. Every time they came around I would run and hide. I remember hiding under my grans glass table hoping they wouldn't see me. If I was forced to come out I'd put up a fight and have a huge fucking melt down. I guess I always knew they were no good from the start. Sometimes I wish I would have kept that mindset, it might have saved me from an eternity of pain...
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