Confessions of a Broken Heart

Divorce is a confusing time for children and it's even more heartbreaking when the parents still can't get along after the divorce. You left the 'family' when I was 4 years old. I was scared and confused. My last memory of when you and mom were together was when I was sitting by your side in the hospital room after she threw a glass ashtray at your face. I didn't think I would ever see you again. From what I can remember, you took care of us when you lived at home. She went to work and did whatever else she felt like doing while you made sure we were taking care of. We had visitations with you until I was 7. Spending every other weekend with you wasn't fun all the time but at least I knew someone cared. Once both parents got remarried things changed. I never seen or heard from you again once that happened. Why was that? What did I do wrong? Those are the questions I keep asking myself. As I wake up every weekend around 2am listening to screams and things being thrown and nasty names being said I think, "When will you come save me daddy?" As I rush to my mother side at 10 years old trying my best and using my strength to pull my step-father off of her, all I can feel is scared, angry and confused. This isn't how life is supposed to be is it? Are all families this way? Where is my daddy who said he would never leave me?" Why must I carry the weight of this family?" Every weekend this happened. When he would leave or pass out I would run to my room shaking and crying begging God to save me from this nightmare that I live. Begging you to come back to us and take my sister and I far away from this place. 

As you lived your life with your step-children and new son I began taking care of my family. I rescued my mother every weekend and sometimes on the weekdays before school. I took care of my sister who was a year and eleven months older than me but mentally was younger. I took care of the house just surviving day by day. We moved around a lot but you already knew that didn't you dad? Since your wife has been keeping track of us but no contact was made. We lived our life in poverty barely making it sometimes. I became numb and barely showed any of my strong emotions. I hit it all from the world with "my life is so wonderful smile" No one knew the tears I cried at night as I begged for answers I would never receive. As you raised children that doesn't belong to you and your new child as happy as you can be living the life I dreamed of, your daughters, your flesh and blood were hurting. 

You came back into my life at the age of 17 when I was about to leave for college. All I could think was is this really happening? Then it hit me, why would you come back into my life now after I was all grown up? I let that thought slip from my mind and was overjoyed. When my mother kicked me out you took me in. I lived with you during the summer and got a job and took care of myself. You helped me get into doctors appointments to figure out what was wrong with me. You called me daddy's girl and took care of me. I've never been so happy in my life. I should have known not to trust you.  You didn't take me back in the 2nd summer. I bounced from house to house until school started. You would barely answer my messages especially my cries for help. I began having nightmares of the past, I couldn't sleep in the dark, I jumped at every little noise. I had constant anxiety attacks and concussions from falling. You acted like you cared during those times but in my heart I believed you. 

You took me in one last summer. It wasn't a good one. Your wife made snide comments about my recovery from Eating Disorder and Self Harm. I began working 2 jobs and going on bike rides daily. You and I had some fun nights just talking. I felt like I was part of your family with just you and the kids. Not her. When I met my boyfriend and he came up to stay with me she waited until the day he was leaving to kick me out. What did you do? You just stand there!!! I was crying and pleading for you to do something. I was begging to be your daughter, a priority in your life but it didn't work!! Your words to me which I will never forget...If I pick you I loose my wife, if I pick her I loose you." So you chose her over me! You left me like you said you never would, I no longer have a mother and her family will not speak to me but my sister and now I lost you for the 3rd time! I can't take this anymore, I am done begging and crying. I shouldn't have to beg to be apart of your life. If you want me there you would of put me there along time ago. But you didn't. I hope your happy. 

Do you still think this is funny?!?

First lets think what does Rape mean? Rape is the the offense of forcing a person, esp a woman, to I decide to go online and I see this:

• Benefits when you’re cute: More people notice you, more people talk to you, people listen to you, you get jobs easier, you get dates easier, it’s easier to get into a relationship, people text you back faster, you get more followers, you get on those fuckyeah sites faster, you feel better about yourself
• Benefits when you’re ugly: You don’t get raped. 

Really? This had over 5000 notes. Can someone tell me what is wrong here? Rape can happen to anyone at all! It can happen to people who are fat, skinny, average, rich, poor, black, white, different ethnicity etc. You could of easily said this different, why must you use the one thing that could tear anyone to pieces in minutes just by reading those words? Why must you use the one thing that can set someone back in recovery of such a traumatic event? Why must you use the one thing that can give someone flashbacks and anxiety attacks all because you wanted to to try to make a point about being ugly. Well you know what? Being ugly or pretty has NOTHING to do with rape. NOTHING AT ALL! 

I am sick and tired of seeing and hearing people make fun of rape. What is there to fucking joke about?!?! Please answer that question for me! I’ve gotten messages from people before who have stated that when they joke about rape it’s not talking about raping people but saying something bad happened while playing video games for example. That is messed up! You can just easily say that incident was bad or something, RAPE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THOSE KINDS OF THINGS. Rape is forcing someone to have sex with you without there CONSENT. How can you joke about that? How can you take something so violent and cruel and turn it into something funny? Please don’t say it’s dark humor…it’s far from humor. 

Can you imagine what someone who has been raped or sexually assaulted must feel like? I can tell you what it feels like: They feel scared, trapped, numb, shocked, dirty and disgusting, ashamed, suffocating, pain, ashamed and wishing they can tell someone and if they do sometimes a lot of people don’t believe them and call they liars or say “you asked for it”, “what were you wearing” “were you drinking” so they keep quiet or push forward with the case with a slim chance of winning. Wanna know why it’s so hard for them to speak out? It’s because of these jokes that people say each and every day. You people take rape lightly and forget the harmful affects that rape has one people. You say these jokes not knowing that someone around you has probably been raped or sexually assaulted and you just joke about it and they are forced to keep quiet to scared and ashamed to speak up because of your words and how society has forced the victims into silence. 

Think about those affected by rape: Women, girls, men, and boys. All genders, ethnicity’s, and sexual orientation. Think about it, someones daughter, son, husband and wife, someones best friend. While you sit there and make your jokes not caring who hears and saying “oh they can’t take a joke” when someone speaks up. It’s not that they can’t take a joke, it’s that it kills someone on the inside, the thoughts, the memories the pain rush back to them as you sit there laughing at what was said. There’s a difference between humor that can be offensive and something that can cause someone serious pain on the inside and the outside and that’s not humor. 

Do you still think it’s funny? I don’t and never will even if I wasn’t a victim. Why in the hell would anyone want to joke about something so traumatizing and so terrible. It’s time to end the silence, stop the jokes and stop the pain. Think of those who have been affected, it’s not funny to have to remember the night it happened and then to have people joke about what you went through that night. 

I wonder....

I wonder what it would feel like to have a mother hold you when you cried? To have a mother be there by your side? I see mothers and daughters together all the time at all ages and it makes me hurt. I lived with my mother for 17 years. I remember some laughs during the good times and how good it felt. It made me feel like we were a real 'normal' family. On the outside we were, but if anyone would of known what happened behind the closed doors.

My mother married my step dad when I was 8. I have always wanted a father, mine left us when we were young and we had visitation for awhile then he disappeared. He seemed like the perfect guy. When they got married everything changed. My mother drank at night and so did my step father. The difference was she could control her alcohol 95% of the time....he couldn't. He was abusive and mean towards her. I remember early mornings on weekends or weekdays waking up to defend my mother. Even though I was so young. My mother was never there for me, she kept taking this guy back for his money. She didn't care about us and our welfare. I remember pulling him off of her while he choked her, I remember screaming and yelling and trying my best to stop him from throwing her down a flight of stairs which he did despite my efforts. When he got in my face during those times, I shouted back told him to leave my family alone. He began threatening my life and took a knife to me while my own mother encouraged it on saying I would beat his ass. I hid all of this from mostly everyone. I was so ashamed of this life we lead. They were married 4 times to each other alone. the constant abuse between each other, the nasty words said to me. I was only 10 years old fighting for my mothers life while taken care of my older sister who has a mental disability. I wonder what would of happened if my mother was different? If she never married that man? Would I be happy and enjoying a mothers love and friendship that I have been wanting for 22 years? I sit and think how I wish things were different, how I wanted a mother to share secrets with, to be there for me through good and bad times to just be a mother. Even without him around, my mother is judgmental and can't stand that she has a daughter who looks like me. She favored my sister over me but told everyone I was the responsible one and that I would be the one to take care of the family. Once he was gone every year, sometimes in prison sometimes in a hotel, I would be the 'man of the house' it was a nightmare but it taught me how to take care of myself.

She ended up kicking me out when I was 17. I was homeless, living in between houses and college dorms. I've been taken care of myself all my life so I was able to get through this. My dad came back into my life when I was 17 he took me in until his wife got jealous of me being close to my dad and she threw me out at the age of 20. I met my boyfriend then and have been living with him and his adorable 3 year old son for the last 2 years. I know if anything happens between us I'll be homeless again. I have plans set-up just in case cause I'm so used to having to leave that it just comes natural to me. I know I am strong and I can get through all of this. I just wish I had that mother/daughter bond most people have. I wish I had a family.

Road to Recovery

Ever since I was about 8 years old I began a battle no one ever should have to face. I was battling myself, which until a couple years ago I thought it was a losing battle. I began hating myself to the point to self destruction. There's a lot of ways for self destruction like drugs or alcohol, my way was just as worse. It was a way to make me feel what I thought I deserved.

When I was in middle school I began to be bullied and not just at school but at home as well. I was bullied for my weight, looks, being poor, and for the clothes I wore. I remember those cruel words everyday of my life. They echo in my mind "fat, ugly, worthless, stupid, pig," the list goes on and on. I began to over eat when my emotions became too much for me to handle. I gained weight fast. I began hating every aspect of my life more than anyone else could hate me. I would over eat then obsessively exercise. I couldn't stand how I looked and would either cry or want to punch the mirror. I stayed quiet about the changes going on and no one cared to notice, they were to busy with there own lives. I realized I wasn't losing as fast as I wanted to and a vicious, never ending battle took place. I began to starve, binge eat, and obsessively exercise. I couldn't stop once I started. I dropped weight though. I still wasn't happy with myself, come on I was still fat and ugly. My self-esteem was non existent. I became isolated and quiet. Spent hours on end in my room, I did well at school making honor rolls. No one knew this was going on or the battle I fought daily. I was a "kind hard worker with a beautiful smile" as my teachers described me.   This cycle continued throughout my teenage years and when I reached 14 it became worse. I couldn't control my emotions anymore, I felt so much and had no idea what I was feeling. I was trapped, alone, scared, confused, sad, angry. Too much for me to handle. I began taking these emotions out on myself making sure I felt the pain and hatred I just knew I deserved. I couldn't stop, I know I needed help but I didn't feel I deserved it. Most of the times I still don't.

Things began to change when I was almost 19. I was in LHU and I was homeless during breaks and a friend took me in with her 2 children and 2 other friends who needed a place as well. I will never forget her or her beautiful children. I was still self destructing but I hid it well from the children. Although, the 3 ladies knew about it. On May 18, 2010 I was very low that day and I couldn't handle anything. I hit my pain and the things I did but the ladies knew and tried to get me some help which I refused. That night me and the 2 girls watched the children for there mother and little girl wasn't listening as I put her on time out. She looked right at me and said "I wonder what will happen if I hurt myself with this" I lost it. I felt guilty, ashamed, confused, angry and most of all sad. What kind of example and influence am I? Why must I continue to suffer like this? I need help. I need to change. What example will I be setting for children and most of all, for myself?

I began to seek help and got myself into the college trauma therapy. It was there I was diagnosed with PTSD, Depression, and ED. I went through sessions of hypnosis, spent countless nights with nightmares as I was reliving everything in my past. Repressed memories came forward and I was trying to escape from them as I always do but I stayed with that image of that little girl in my head. I ended up "graduating" from trauma therapy but these illnesses wont go away, I knew I had a long road ahead of me trying to overcome them and not let them control my life any longer.

When I got together with my current boyfriend and his son things went downhill again due to tons of triggers that I couldn't handle. I began an inpatient therapy for 2 weeks. It scared me but I became more determined to get better for this new and only family I have. I didn't want to lose them because I love them more than life itself. I began doing outpatient therapy for 8 months when I had to stop due to my boss not liking me being late due to appointments.

Now it's May 22, 2014. I am almost 4 years clean of self harm, my nightmares have subsided somewhat, I am doing better at eating right, I have lost weight healthy but due to PCOS I have gained some back and it's not triggering me but I can't stand it. My self esteem still needs a lot of work, my emotion management needs a lot of work and my thoughts are doing better. I'm not going to sit here and say I'm a 100% better because I'm not. I'm not a car you can stick in the garage and it's perfectly fixed. I'm a work in progress and I'm learning not everyone is perfect. Yes I have more bad days then good sometimes but I also have more good days then bad. I will overcome these illnesses eventually, it's an uphill battle and I know now, it can be won. I will overcome this. I will be free. I will stay strong and win.