i am fighting everything in me to post this, I feel selfish because others are holding up fine and people are here to work themselves out and I feel bad taking up time, but I don't want to want to die anymore and usually talking about pieces of it will put it off the urges for a little while so maybe the whole thing?
I was first raped at age 7. My parents did not press charges, they rewrote history and invalidated everything I remembered, and my mom excused it by dismissing the sixteen year old perpetrator as 'curious.'
I blocked it out. Ages seven to fourteen don't exist except in watercolor imitations of what was. I remember through pictures and connect-the-dots, and stories and diaries. No matter how vigilantly I keep them they feel like someone else's life. I feel like an invader here, and I have already stolen so much time from someone who has the capacity to heal, and do good. I should die and make room for a good soul.
At fourteen, when I was triggered to the memory, I confided in close friends and my boyfriend I had just started dating. He was nineteen, and looked like the person who had first violated me. I think of this as an attempt to start things over. He violated my trust and molested me also.
Copy and paste that situation to sixteen, except involve a trip to California to meet the person in question, kick the age up to twenty-six, and put my mom down the street.
I met someone better that same year, the day i first decided to end my life. after a few months I told him all of it. at this point I was dangerously cynical and informed him 'i'm afraid to tell you, because you'll do it too.' he ended up doing far worse. he cheated on me multiple times and made me feel worthless and liek a fuckup for such a prolonged period of time (5 years...honestly we're broken up but he still gets me to do what he wants) that after two years of it I sought out someone else, since he moved to boston for school and continued his behavior as normal.
this person raped me after six months and broke it off with me the next day. i couldn't even react. i felt like someone had placed a big 'victim' sticker on my forehead at birth, and that I had died at seven and been replaced with a placeholder. i actually had a psychosis for a while that that was exactly what had happened, and that was the reason that I didn't remember 7 to 14. the new soul had to learn how to be me.
i got back together with the 5-year guy, moved to boston to be with him. and though at first he seemed very understanding of what i'd been through, it evolved into an attack on him that i had left him after what he'd done to me and he would manipulate me by saying that he didn't know if he loved me anymore, and he would tell me that he'd told his therapist about issues we had or arguments we had and that his therapist told him to break it off. i had nowhere else to live so i existed in a perpetual state of fear.
i have had lifelong physical and psychological abuse issues with my father, so the fact that I live in his basement again (and have a for a year and a half) after two years of separation is difficult. i have chronic basilar migraines, scoliosis, and complex ptsd, so if i could ever get a job to get health care and get evaluated, i'd probably get on disability, but as it is i'm stuck in a basement or at my new boyfriend's house. the boyfriend lives in a populous area but maybe i'm scared of fixing my life so that some of it goes right
i can just feel the dissociation descending on me and i know logically i deserve better than this and so does everyone but it's strangling
I was first raped at age 7. My parents did not press charges, they rewrote history and invalidated everything I remembered, and my mom excused it by dismissing the sixteen year old perpetrator as 'curious.'
I blocked it out. Ages seven to fourteen don't exist except in watercolor imitations of what was. I remember through pictures and connect-the-dots, and stories and diaries. No matter how vigilantly I keep them they feel like someone else's life. I feel like an invader here, and I have already stolen so much time from someone who has the capacity to heal, and do good. I should die and make room for a good soul.
At fourteen, when I was triggered to the memory, I confided in close friends and my boyfriend I had just started dating. He was nineteen, and looked like the person who had first violated me. I think of this as an attempt to start things over. He violated my trust and molested me also.
Copy and paste that situation to sixteen, except involve a trip to California to meet the person in question, kick the age up to twenty-six, and put my mom down the street.
I met someone better that same year, the day i first decided to end my life. after a few months I told him all of it. at this point I was dangerously cynical and informed him 'i'm afraid to tell you, because you'll do it too.' he ended up doing far worse. he cheated on me multiple times and made me feel worthless and liek a fuckup for such a prolonged period of time (5 years...honestly we're broken up but he still gets me to do what he wants) that after two years of it I sought out someone else, since he moved to boston for school and continued his behavior as normal.
this person raped me after six months and broke it off with me the next day. i couldn't even react. i felt like someone had placed a big 'victim' sticker on my forehead at birth, and that I had died at seven and been replaced with a placeholder. i actually had a psychosis for a while that that was exactly what had happened, and that was the reason that I didn't remember 7 to 14. the new soul had to learn how to be me.
i got back together with the 5-year guy, moved to boston to be with him. and though at first he seemed very understanding of what i'd been through, it evolved into an attack on him that i had left him after what he'd done to me and he would manipulate me by saying that he didn't know if he loved me anymore, and he would tell me that he'd told his therapist about issues we had or arguments we had and that his therapist told him to break it off. i had nowhere else to live so i existed in a perpetual state of fear.
i have had lifelong physical and psychological abuse issues with my father, so the fact that I live in his basement again (and have a for a year and a half) after two years of separation is difficult. i have chronic basilar migraines, scoliosis, and complex ptsd, so if i could ever get a job to get health care and get evaluated, i'd probably get on disability, but as it is i'm stuck in a basement or at my new boyfriend's house. the boyfriend lives in a populous area but maybe i'm scared of fixing my life so that some of it goes right
i can just feel the dissociation descending on me and i know logically i deserve better than this and so does everyone but it's strangling