After crying my eyes out for about an hour, I decided that maybe its time to write something. Something really honest.
I feel like whenever I finally open up, whether it’s on here or in person, I always hold something back to avoid looking crazy or disturbed.
What was I balling my eyes out about? Well, I was here wishing I were no longer alive to put it quite simply. I wish I could just slip away in my sleep and forget about my troubles. I wish I could fall down a flight of stairs and never wake up. I wish I would slip into the train tracks by accident and never have to worry about another thing again. I wonder sometimes, that when God or whatever higher force one may believe in was handing out blessings and happiness where I was and why I wasn’t in line getting some for myself and my loved ones.
I’m very hard on myself. I know that. I wish I was smarter, more motivated, more sincere, a better friend and a better daughter. I wish I was just better. I also wish I was taken more seriously but before anybody thinks this is just a post of wishes, its not. I have tried and it gets better for a while. You know how things always get a little (emphasis on little) good and then a ton of bad comes straight after? I’m tired of it.
Whenever I feel like this I always look back on the past and wonder what has got me feeling so down about myself and why I’ll finally end it all when the time is right. To be quite honest, it is a bunch of things. Things from my childhood and events that occurred as I (unwillingly) grew into an adult. I feel like a thing. A mere nothing to be specific.
I opened a social media app and came across a thread of tweets of someone that reminded me of how worthless I am. How much of a nothing I am.
Two years ago, I had reconnected with an old FwB and we started hanging out again. It was fun because I remembered how much he made me laugh and how much of an escape it was to leave home and spend a few hours with him. Chilling, eating, shopping, fucking. Of course I knew we weren’t friends friends. You know the type of friend that you can randomly call and you actually go out of your way to do everything you can for them. No, we were, I don’t know, premium acquaintances and I made sure to keep it that way. But like I said, I got the escape I needed for half the effort so that’s what mattered.
One night we decided to get high. Typical 20-something year old shit. I had had a tough week so I was all for it. We smoked, got food and chilled. Like I mentioned before we were FwB so it isn’t the fact that he started to grab at me that bothered me it’s what happened after.
Let’s call him Jacob. He started grabbing at me and that is when I got up and tried to leave. I wanted to go home. I didn’t want this. He wouldn’t let me though. At 6-foot something he pinned me down and wouldn’t let me move. I kept saying I needed to go home but of course when you’re nothing and below human, what you want does not matter. Anyway I couldn’t fight it.
Before I continue I would like to put it out there that although I was high, I was well aware of my surroundings and what was going on. I was not passed out or on the verge of passing out. It’s quite sad that I have to put that out there but there are people in the world that would still think what happens next was my fault.
I couldn’t move. I kept saying I want to go home but he wasn’t having any of it. Eventually I stopped fighting and he took off my clothes. All that was going through my head was “this isn’t right, this is rape”. What was probably 8-10 minutes felt like an hour. I thought it was never going to end. I couldn’t move. I wouldn’t move at his demand. I wouldn’t perform oral. At that point I didn’t care to do anything, I thought “if he is going to hurt me, he should just get on with it so I can go home”. He eventually went soft and rolled off of me. I had never gotten dressed so fast. I spent the whole journey home trying to figure out if it was really rape. I submitted and stopped trying so maybe it wasn’t. I also said no and tried to leave so maybe it was.
The next day I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t want to leave my bed. I didn’t want to eat or speak to anybody. I tried to google different ways on how to kill yourself. The paranoia in me switched my Safari browser to private so no authority could come in between me and dying.
It was torture seeing him at parties. All I could do was smile and make friendly cordial conversation.
Now, if you’re wondering what I mean by the title, last month, he messaged me on Twitter saying he needs to talk to me. “Quick talk”. I spent the rest of my shift wondering what on earth he had to say, seeing that the last time we spoke was at a mutual friend’s party.
He started talking about that night and when he finished he said “I just want to know is that rape?” To which I replied “yes”. I wondered why it took him two years to realise what he had done to me. to realise that he might have mentally affected another person with his actions. He said that he didn’t even think about it until he had a conversation with his friends and it came up that it might be rape. To be quite honest, it sounded more like he was making sure he was in the clear and there would be no trouble rather than him realising and being sorry for what he had done. When you’re a complete nothing it’s not about you, it’s really about them and their reputation.
He definitely isn’t the first person to harm me and I doubt he will be the last but what I DO know is that it won’t go on forever because I have the power to end it all and I’m definitely going to take advantage of that.
The plan is to finally finish university so I can say I managed to finish something I’ve started and do what I have to do, might I add with the biggest smile on my face.