The Real Me: Part Three-My Darkest Hour And A Ray of Hope
*DISCLAIMER This post WILL touch on a few sensitive subjects like abuse in all forms and suicide. If these things bother you please don't read it. I will take no offense. Instead jump down to my last post which is about my normal hectic life.This post will also make you laugh, cry, and feel anger towards the people mentioned and me as well. I am aware that Sage is on my friends list and might read this too and I am ok with it. Maybe if he knows more about me, he will understand more. I am ready to take what I get from it and it's a good purge for me.* This will be my longest post ever! Take it in small bites if you must, but please read it all. Please click to read if you missed Part One. Here a link to Part Two. Thank you :)
I started to see Sage everyday in school despite Flames protests. However I was not aware whether Abuser knew who he was or that we were hanging out. This of course became apparent when Sage decided to skip class to hang out with me at lunch with the rest of the Boces rejects,as they proudly called themselves. Right away he could tell I liked Sage so I was afraid for the next time I went over his house. Fortunately at the time I pissed off my Grandmother and she grounded me and for the first time I stuck to it. I was able to avoid him for a while, although I had to give up a trip to Woodstock over it and I believe I remember Sage went with them too.
My worst most memorable situation with Abuser was worse then any sex act he could think of. I wanted to make a special Thanksgiving type dinner for him to show that I really care for him not Sage and I chose a day that my Grandmother was going to be out all day. I made a turkey breast, because I knew he liked white meat, stuffing, veggies and a pie. I served him proudly like he was a king and I was his servant rather then his queen. At first he was pleased till he got to the stuffing. I used golden raisins to add sweetness to the stuffing, which I didn't know he didn't like. He saw them and gave me a look that didn't register with me as trouble. Suddenly the casserole dish went flying at the wall. He moved faster then I could react and grabbed me and slammed me against the wall. To this day I really don't know what he was saying as I was losing consciousness from his hand around my throat. I passed out. I woke up and he was gone. I cleaned up the mess and cleaned up the meal. I was so confused as to what I did. I have never seen anyone get that angry over something they didn't like. I only recently have been able to eat things with golden raisins in it. I use to shake if I saw them. I decided at that point I needed to do something to make it up. I realized in order to show him I really cared I would have to take my Grandmothers lock box.
I waited till she was out for the night and we took the box and pried it open in a secluded place. We found gold coins, and really old jewelry. The gold coins weighed at least an ounce each. It was a haul! We put the costume jewelry back and put the box back where it was hidden. Then we went to a pawn shop and convinced the guy to give us the money. I was only 17, but Abuser was 18. We celebrated with Streak and M. by going out to dinner at Red Lobster. Abuser even had the nerve to buy my Grandmother a take out plate. I bought him a used Cadillac for $600 and then never saw any of the money again.
By March things had gotten so bad between us I was actually looking for a way out that included him gone for good. I was dreaming about shooting him each night. That dream finally became a reality sort of. I got into an argument with Abuser on that day and he went to hit me and I stood up for myself. It was spring so the doors and windows were open to air out the place and we argued loud enough for the neighbors to hear us. It was the first time i yelled back. We got into a struggle and I found myself with my Fathers BB gun in my hand. I pumped it and aimed it at him. I said if he didn't let me out of the house I was going to shoot him. I realized when I said that, that I couldn't go through it. I guess my face betrayed me because he started to come at me and I shot at the ground. That made him stop and back up. I cocked it again and aimed it at his balls. He lunged to grab it and I shot him in the foot. He hobbled out of the door and I came out with the gun, just as a cop car showed up. I dropped the gun right away and he started yelling that I tried to shoot him. I had a hand print across my face and the cop could clearly see it. I told the cop I wanted to leave and he wouldn't let me. The cop offered me a ride, but told me he had to take my Fathers Gun. Great another thing that son of a bitch cost me and this was my Dads! I didn't want to be arrested so I complied. I was asked where I wanted to go by my Mom and and the cop and I said St. Francis Hospital. I knew I needed help now and finally gave into my Mom's demand to check myself into a mental facility.
I started to see Sage everyday in school despite Flames protests. However I was not aware whether Abuser knew who he was or that we were hanging out. This of course became apparent when Sage decided to skip class to hang out with me at lunch with the rest of the Boces rejects,as they proudly called themselves. Right away he could tell I liked Sage so I was afraid for the next time I went over his house. Fortunately at the time I pissed off my Grandmother and she grounded me and for the first time I stuck to it. I was able to avoid him for a while, although I had to give up a trip to Woodstock over it and I believe I remember Sage went with them too.
My worst most memorable situation with Abuser was worse then any sex act he could think of. I wanted to make a special Thanksgiving type dinner for him to show that I really care for him not Sage and I chose a day that my Grandmother was going to be out all day. I made a turkey breast, because I knew he liked white meat, stuffing, veggies and a pie. I served him proudly like he was a king and I was his servant rather then his queen. At first he was pleased till he got to the stuffing. I used golden raisins to add sweetness to the stuffing, which I didn't know he didn't like. He saw them and gave me a look that didn't register with me as trouble. Suddenly the casserole dish went flying at the wall. He moved faster then I could react and grabbed me and slammed me against the wall. To this day I really don't know what he was saying as I was losing consciousness from his hand around my throat. I passed out. I woke up and he was gone. I cleaned up the mess and cleaned up the meal. I was so confused as to what I did. I have never seen anyone get that angry over something they didn't like. I only recently have been able to eat things with golden raisins in it. I use to shake if I saw them. I decided at that point I needed to do something to make it up. I realized in order to show him I really cared I would have to take my Grandmothers lock box.
I waited till she was out for the night and we took the box and pried it open in a secluded place. We found gold coins, and really old jewelry. The gold coins weighed at least an ounce each. It was a haul! We put the costume jewelry back and put the box back where it was hidden. Then we went to a pawn shop and convinced the guy to give us the money. I was only 17, but Abuser was 18. We celebrated with Streak and M. by going out to dinner at Red Lobster. Abuser even had the nerve to buy my Grandmother a take out plate. I bought him a used Cadillac for $600 and then never saw any of the money again.
By March things had gotten so bad between us I was actually looking for a way out that included him gone for good. I was dreaming about shooting him each night. That dream finally became a reality sort of. I got into an argument with Abuser on that day and he went to hit me and I stood up for myself. It was spring so the doors and windows were open to air out the place and we argued loud enough for the neighbors to hear us. It was the first time i yelled back. We got into a struggle and I found myself with my Fathers BB gun in my hand. I pumped it and aimed it at him. I said if he didn't let me out of the house I was going to shoot him. I realized when I said that, that I couldn't go through it. I guess my face betrayed me because he started to come at me and I shot at the ground. That made him stop and back up. I cocked it again and aimed it at his balls. He lunged to grab it and I shot him in the foot. He hobbled out of the door and I came out with the gun, just as a cop car showed up. I dropped the gun right away and he started yelling that I tried to shoot him. I had a hand print across my face and the cop could clearly see it. I told the cop I wanted to leave and he wouldn't let me. The cop offered me a ride, but told me he had to take my Fathers Gun. Great another thing that son of a bitch cost me and this was my Dads! I didn't want to be arrested so I complied. I was asked where I wanted to go by my Mom and and the cop and I said St. Francis Hospital. I knew I needed help now and finally gave into my Mom's demand to check myself into a mental facility.