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Teenage Wasteland

Age 16 was a nightmare.

I was a nightmare. 

Drinking, Drugs, Sex, Violence. You name it, I did it.

I have a whole month that is one giant black hole. I remember snippets here and there, but they come few and far between. I was a black-out drinker, living with a drug dealer, and every night was a party.

But there’s one flashback I keep getting and I wish I had the rest of the pieces to the puzzle of that night.

I know I was drinking.

A lot.

I know people kept handing me drinks.

More.

More.

More.

The last thing I remember is waking up naked in a bed with four guys who were not my drug-dealing boyfriend. I remember trying to find my clothes. I remember being scared and not knowing what happened or how I got to be in that situation.

What happened that night?

Why?

Even at my drunkest, I still had a sliver of morality. I’d never in a million years consent to something like that.

Here I am, years later, STILL trying to put the pieces together.

Was I raped?

Was I drugged?

I don’t know!

and it kills me.

 

I’m scared of the truth

Lost And Confused

I found this site while googling help for sexual assault.

At the end of what I thought was a good night with friends, my friend’s husband touched me inappropriately. Down there.

I was asleep and woke to find him breathing over me, with his hands where they shouldn’t be. I got out of there so quickly that I didn’t even bother to find my shoes. I have been through a difficult time recently and during the evening I had confided in my friends about how I was feeling. It only adds to how violated I feel.

His wife is lovely and we have become close friends in the year that we have known each other, but now I don’t know what to do. What do I say when I don’t want to go to her house? I can’t tell her, I don’t want to lose her as a friend. I can’t tell anyone else, I’m already judging myself. The fact that he would do this while I was asleep makes me wonder if he has he done this to other people. I feel so lost, dirty and ashamed.

Bullied

I was 7 years old when they started to bully me. I was only a kid. I don’t understand what I did to them.

At first I would laugh along with them, but soon I realized that those words hurt. Didn’t they see I looked up to them? They hurt me so badly that many times I thought I didn’t deserve to live. I thought it was my fault.

They robbed me of my childhood, I would go to sleep crying, hoping the next day it wouldn’t be as bad. I asked for help, but instead, I was told to “man up.” How is an eight year old suppose to do that? After a few years they finally stopped. I had my friends and family, but I would still felt worthless, like I didn’t matter.

I forgave them, but those scars are still there.

I can still hear all those horrible things they said to me in my head. The only way I survived was that I made myself stop feeling emotions. Things would happen to me in my life, but I would no longer feel them. I talk to my former bullies now as if nothing ever happened, but whenever they look at me, I feel like I’m 7 again, hiding in a corner, scared.

Little by little, I have been able to put myself together again, to start to feel, but those painful memories just don’t go away. Whenever I remember those painful memories all I can ask myself is what did I do to them to make them hate me so much? I was only a kid.

Stuck

Hi, I’m 22. I’ve been looking for something that might help the healing. I just found this site, and am glad there is something like this. It’s hard writing what happened. So here it goes. I was mentally/emotionally abused.

I don’t feel like a victim. It’s nothing like you see on TV where someone is bawling their eyes out with sudden realization. I’m just numb. Okay, I’m numb with random fits of bawling my eyes out for no reason, but still numb. Reading the other stories on here, I feel like mine was barely anything.

I was in a relationship with an abuser for two and a half years. It started out like any good relationship does, laughing and smiling. Then, his family disowned him for dating a white girl. After that, he would throw that at me to shut me up, if he perceived the smallest slight. That I was the reason for everything going bad, the fact that his family would never accept me. But it never stopped there. Daily, he called me fat, and ugly, and useless. There came a point when I believed all of that. I tried to weigh as little as I could so that maybe he would give me a small compliment. I tried to do everything perfect, even though it wasn’t enough. He would insult me in front of our friends (his friends, since all of my friends liked him better). I could never tell him no or go against his word without incurring his explosive anger. He would never show his anger in public though. He would wait until we were alone to let loose. He took all but two my friends. He’s a charismatic guy, and everyone likes him. How can people stay friends with an abuser when they KNOW? There came a point when I felt so alone and unwanted that I thought about suicide. The thing that kept me from it, the only thing, was the thought of my mom.

I almost left probably five times. Why didn’t I just leave the first time?

My mom saved me from this “relationship.” She’s a psychiatric nurse and recognized the signs. In her words, she told me that I didn’t laugh or sing anymore. In August, after he threatened me more than usual, she told me her suspicions. I told him that she didn’t like our relationship. (When his family disowned him, he made me promise that if my mom ever didn’t like our relationship then we would break up.) I used my mom as a scapegoat to get out – I wasn’t the one who ended it. Not really.

Now, months later, I still feel lost. I’m still afraid to make decisions. I still close up and try to fix everything whenever someone’s moody. I laugh again, but that’s all I’ve gained back of myself. I’m going to start therapy in a week, and I hope that helps. Does it take this long to heal? I just want to be myself again.

One thing that one of those two friends told me has really stuck. “How can you prove that someone hurt you when they left no visible mark?”

“Special Day”

Today was my two month anniversary. Now, you might be pretty happy for me, but let me explain how it went.

First he was gone all morning to watch his brother, ok no big deal, it is a family thing. Next, just normal talking and flirting pretty fun and I was happy to talk.

Then he got upset and started saying negative things, I honestly thought he was going to kill himself and he was swearing at me a lot. I got so upset with myself that I said “I deserve to die.” This just made it worse and he offered no support or care.

It’s like I can’t be upset. I can’t be hurt or need a minute to heal. He makes excuses as to why he is upset, or treating me poorly, or just not trying to make today special. After about 3 hours of that we talked it through and I calmed him down.

Happy fucking two months to me.

Lost Inside My Head

I am lost.

There’s so much that is going on in my head and I use all my energy to appear “okay” around people. I don’t know why I do it – it’s not fair to me.

I have this world I’ve lost control over; it is in a war, and it isn’t nice. They want me to lead it so I’m leading a war in which the kingdom has no leaders. They want me to deal with that too, which I’m working on.

But that isn’t the real world.

In the real world, I’m too scared to open my curtains because I believe there are two invisible, flying men watching me. I’m scared of people. I’m just scared. There are other things that affect the way I do things; it annoys me because I have no control over it.

There’s a goose that runs around – he does make me laugh, but at the wrong times. There are monsters that try and attack me –  sometimes they can succeed. There are two men I see that are complete opposites; it’s very rare that they agree on anything. There are other things too.

I have anxiety and depression.

It can take half an hour for me to get from one side of the door to the outside because I check my bag millions of times, my shoes and socks, and all the doors of the house.

Odd numbers are important.

I feel alone so much, even when I am with people. I feel like I’m a robot with people.

I have panic attacks; I don’t feel relaxed very often.

Sometimes I hear children singing nursery rhymes, but it sounds creepy. Sometimes I hear people scream from the war. Sometimes I hear them cry.

I self-harm, sometimes because the voices tell me to; they won’t shut up – sometimes I self-harm because I can’t cope with the emotional pain.

My family hasn’t helped helped me. They’re religious and my dad doesn’t like other people’s opinions, so I can’t share mine except occasionally to my friends. My family doesn’t understand what I’m going through. I always find myself comparing my struggles to my sister’s cancer diagnosis; at least she had something wrong that people could see and get out of her. My dad blames demons for my problems.

Nothing has happened to trigger this, I’m just really unlucky.

I just wanted to get it all out.