(no subject)
I'm going to start telling what I've been thinking about. And I don't care who reads this and knows, this is for me. And for my friends back home to kinda understand what's it's like in Doozy's shoes.
Well, first off:
I'm not gonna talk to my mother for a bit.
I think it's for the best.
I mean everytime we talked I would end up hanging up on her, crying hysterically.
She has said some very hurtful things to me.
I mean, she called me her "finicial problem" cause my dad is taking the child support away.
She has to sell the house, but she was going to have to in a year. Only a year.
Child support is meant to go to the child, but she used it for herself.
I was never taken to the doctors... and now I'm seeing like 7 from all the problems that I have.
I'm taking as much medicine as my Dad, whos 50!
I never got new clothes, so I always was outgrowing things.
It's just seemed like she couldn't take care of me.
She even admitted to that on the phone the last time I talked to her.
She said, "Well, you know how much I've gone through with your brother and sister, so I guess when it came to you, I kinda lost it".
Gee, that makes me feel nice. She wouldnt take care of me because she couldnt handle it.
Well, what about all the things I was handling.
I thought this to myself the other day, and I actually laughed.
I said to myself, "I've been beaten, verbally abused, raped, and in depression for the last 3 years of my life, but I'm ok. I'm here, I've been strong, and its all going to end now."
Now you cant see anywhere in there, where I thought that was funny. But I'm ok, thats the funny thing, I mean I have some things I need to work on, and i'm still pretty depressed, but overall.... I'm ok! lol.
Nothing gives the excuse to stop raising your child.
I was never first in her life.
I was never appreciated.
She doesn't respect me.
All she does is lie and decieve me.
Over and over, that her apologies just aren't anything to me anymore.
She says she will try not to say things to me, but she doesnt try, it always happens.
She would yell at me, when no one was around, for everything wrong in her life, and how it was all my fault. I would cry everyday in my bed, holding my wrists to fight the urge to cut again, and repeat over and over, "Im here, im here, im alive, and i didnt do it, i never did anything". It was the only way for me not to believe her.
I didnt know I was being abused. Well folks, that verbal abusement. And to this day, I feel bad and think about other people more than myself. Because of her. See it as a good thing, see it as a bad thing. I dont know. Just the way I am.
I knew we would never be the same with eachother after the day she hit me. I told her one morning last year that I wasnt going to school. I locked my door and hid under the covers. She busted it open and started slapping my face. I was putting my arms over my face, trying to protect myself, and she pried them off with her nails and started punching my face.
I remember when I had to go to school with a black eye and a bruise on my neck. I hid it with my hair and a sweater. I was ashamed. I thought it was my fault. Cuz I said I wasnt going to school. I didnt know why I didnt want to go. I was scared. But it didnt give her the reason to hit me like that. And its not my fault.
Couple of months ago, a very pleasant memory came to me! I'd be lying in bed, thinking about my psychology class, wondering why those rape victim videos were bothering me so much, wanna know why? Right before I would fall into sleep, I'd have visions, my mind entering a part that has been locked up for a very long time, lil second visions. They would scare me so that I couldnt fall asleep the rest of the night. I was confused as to why I was scared, it wasnt all there, but the lil pieces of the puzzle ran through my head. 4 months, I did not sleep much at all. 4 months! Want to know what I was remembering? Being raped.. in the 7th grade... at school... in a bathroom. Isn't that oh so lovely? It all came back to me one night and thats when I knew it had happend. I didnt know what to do. I remember that day in parts.
I remember getting up and eating breakfast. I remember waiting at the bus stop. I remember having an asthma attack in Ms. Brown's classroom cuz she was getting new windows put in and all the dirt was circulating her classroom. I remember walking the deserted school with the pass. I remember passing the windows of the cafeteria and seeing my face in the reflective light. I remember looking at the pass with Brown's signature on the bottom. And that's when I got grabbed.
3 men, high school boys, middle school boys? I dont know. I dont even know if there were three or not. Definitly two though. It's really hard to re-enact this. But I have to let it out. Every part. I can feel when i'm concentrating sometimes, I can feel where they wrapped their arms around me. Across my mouth, under my chest, my waist, and my feet. One guy took my face in his hands and thrusted me at the tile flooring. They were all laughing and saying things to me, but it was fuzzy. I was beginning to black out. I stared at the pipes under the sink. I wouldnt let them see me cry. I could hear the water running through the pipes. They tried to make me look at them, but I wouldnt let them see me cry. So I held in the tears. I held them in. They took off my clothes. And all I was thinking about was my family. I said dont concentrate on what they are doing, go somewhere else. My vision was gone, I couldnt hear them. Only could feel. My breathing deepend. I was having an asthma attack. I thought i was going to die. I thought I was going to die. I visioned the police finding my striped body on the bathroom floor. And the look on my moms face when she found out what had happend. I thought I was going to die. One boy was on my hands, so that I couldnt move. I could feel the others hands going up my thigh. I thought when I could see maybe one was at the door guarding. I felt the boy at my thigh go higher, I squirmed, the guy on my hands jumped and slammed down, breaking my fingers. Tears escaped and I said to myself, "And now I die a new beginning". Black.
I woke up right as the last bell rang. I was afraid to open my eyes as to be staring into one of theirs. I opened them, they were gone. I got up. My body hurt, it was bruised, sore, I had deep purple ones against my thighs. All the way down. I was bare naked. I didnt want to look at myself in the mirror but I did. My lips and under my eyes were blue. Blueberry blue. They had pulled out my hair in chunks. My body was pale. I thought I was dead. They had runned the sinks, I was laying in cold water for hours. It was dark. I looked for my clothes. They were in the toilets... peed on. I put them on with my broken fingers. Keeping my mouth shut. I didnt die. I walked out of the bathroom. The sun making me squint my eyes. I was so happy to see the sun.
I dont remember how I got home. I suppose the bus. But I dont know. I remember walking through my garage. I remember washing my clothes in the sink cuz I didnt know how to use the washing machine. I remember snapping my fingers back into place. I remember taking a shower. And going to bed. And telling myself it never happend.
The next day I totally oblivated that it happend. I had convinced myself it was a dream. but the bruises were still there. the scar on my heart was still there. the emotional and physical stress on my mind and body. still there. but i forgot it. and moved on with life. only that it would be corrupted in my denile of depression.
When people look at me, youd think something like that would never happen. I pretend a lot to be more happy than I am. I dont like people to worry about me. I dont like to be a burden to anyone.
All the things I do, I say, my habits. They revolve around what happend. Like, I'm attracted to guys with blonde hair, but I only go out with those who have dark? Want to know why? I remember one of the guys had blonde hair. Isnt that weird?
I'm crying a lot more now. i feel like I'm weak. That Ive given so much to be strong to this day. But I cant give up and I am still strong. And I'll overcome these feelings and memories some day.
Some day...