On the outside I am a super confident happy fun and full of life person. I'm the one who makes everyone laugh. I'm always the shoulder to cry on and I'm always responsible. My whole world sees me as being very pulled together... I'm not.
Someone recently found out a little bit more about me. Not much, but enough to know that I'm good at hiding what's going on. He told me that I needed to tell someone my story, anyone, so here it goes.
When I was nine years old my aunt got married. Her new step son and I became pretty close, he was fifteen I was nine. I thought that the fact that he wanted to be friends with me made me cool. The night before the wedding he stayed the night at my moms house while my mom was out with her sister for their last night of being single women together. All I remember from that night is lots of shadows on the walls, screaming, crying and begging him to stop. After that I withdrew to myself and told no one.
When I was fourteen I met this guy. He was sweet, charming, and said all the right things. For the first four months of our relationship he never even teased me, he was the picture of a perfect gentleman. One day he went upstairs and I ran to the bottom to meet him. When he got to the bottom of the steps he looked me dead in the eye and said, "you know if you weren't so ugly I wouldn't hate you so much", and punched me in the face. That night was the first night that I ever tried any illegal substances but definitely not the last.
After time I found out not only was he a lot older than he had previously told me, he was also the areas biggest drug dealer. I was really young and way in over my head so I stayed. Over the next year and a half I ended up with twenty seven broken bones. I was a virgin (minus what happened when I was nine) when I met him and because I refused to sleep with him he would have people hold me down and force me to watch him have sex with girl after girl after girl. When I would fall asleep they would shoot me up with heroin.
I was watched everywhere I went. Any time a friend would come over I would get picture messages from him of them walking in the door. I was jumped over a half a dozen times all by men between the ages of twenty five and thirty five.
Eventually I left him and moved on with my life as much as I could. After some time I met a guy who really was a good guy and we got pretty serious. I was still young but I was in love and eventually ended up pregnant. When the ex found out he had me jumped by seven guys causing me to lose the baby.
About three months later, I went to a party where I was offered a ride home from a friend of the family who held a knife to my throat while he raped me, and left me in a barn where I had no idea where I was, no phone or car.
I moved away as soon as I graduated high school but even three hundred miles away my past wouldn't leave me be. Once they called and told me that he killed himself because of me just to find out weeks later that he was perfectly fine.
Fast forward a couple of years and I'm married, well kinda. My one year wedding anniversary is coming up and I'll be spending it still covering bruises and he'll be spending it in my best friends bed.
Nobody in my life knows any of this. The only person I've ever told is my soon to be ex husband.
The thing is I don't really see how people knowing is gonna help. My minds in a pretty dark place but I'm trying everyday.
I'm to the point now that I don't trust anyone. I cant be alone in the dark and I tear up every time the phone rings, but I'm so tired of being scared I want my life back.
I recently met someone who I could see myself really caring for, but I just cant let myself go there and now my inability to open up is slowly pushing him away. Every time I talk to him all I want to do is tell him about my history but nothing comes out. I've accepted the fact that I'm going to lose him because of this, but I still hate that I've let them win.
<basic grammar and paragraphs edited by cherryblossom>
Someone recently found out a little bit more about me. Not much, but enough to know that I'm good at hiding what's going on. He told me that I needed to tell someone my story, anyone, so here it goes.
When I was nine years old my aunt got married. Her new step son and I became pretty close, he was fifteen I was nine. I thought that the fact that he wanted to be friends with me made me cool. The night before the wedding he stayed the night at my moms house while my mom was out with her sister for their last night of being single women together. All I remember from that night is lots of shadows on the walls, screaming, crying and begging him to stop. After that I withdrew to myself and told no one.
When I was fourteen I met this guy. He was sweet, charming, and said all the right things. For the first four months of our relationship he never even teased me, he was the picture of a perfect gentleman. One day he went upstairs and I ran to the bottom to meet him. When he got to the bottom of the steps he looked me dead in the eye and said, "you know if you weren't so ugly I wouldn't hate you so much", and punched me in the face. That night was the first night that I ever tried any illegal substances but definitely not the last.
After time I found out not only was he a lot older than he had previously told me, he was also the areas biggest drug dealer. I was really young and way in over my head so I stayed. Over the next year and a half I ended up with twenty seven broken bones. I was a virgin (minus what happened when I was nine) when I met him and because I refused to sleep with him he would have people hold me down and force me to watch him have sex with girl after girl after girl. When I would fall asleep they would shoot me up with heroin.
I was watched everywhere I went. Any time a friend would come over I would get picture messages from him of them walking in the door. I was jumped over a half a dozen times all by men between the ages of twenty five and thirty five.
Eventually I left him and moved on with my life as much as I could. After some time I met a guy who really was a good guy and we got pretty serious. I was still young but I was in love and eventually ended up pregnant. When the ex found out he had me jumped by seven guys causing me to lose the baby.
About three months later, I went to a party where I was offered a ride home from a friend of the family who held a knife to my throat while he raped me, and left me in a barn where I had no idea where I was, no phone or car.
I moved away as soon as I graduated high school but even three hundred miles away my past wouldn't leave me be. Once they called and told me that he killed himself because of me just to find out weeks later that he was perfectly fine.
Fast forward a couple of years and I'm married, well kinda. My one year wedding anniversary is coming up and I'll be spending it still covering bruises and he'll be spending it in my best friends bed.
Nobody in my life knows any of this. The only person I've ever told is my soon to be ex husband.
The thing is I don't really see how people knowing is gonna help. My minds in a pretty dark place but I'm trying everyday.
I'm to the point now that I don't trust anyone. I cant be alone in the dark and I tear up every time the phone rings, but I'm so tired of being scared I want my life back.
I recently met someone who I could see myself really caring for, but I just cant let myself go there and now my inability to open up is slowly pushing him away. Every time I talk to him all I want to do is tell him about my history but nothing comes out. I've accepted the fact that I'm going to lose him because of this, but I still hate that I've let them win.
<basic grammar and paragraphs edited by cherryblossom>
