Haunting Memories

Today marks 6 years since the worst day of my life. On this day in 2011, I was raped at knife point by a man who made my life a living hell for months prior. On this day every year, I can’t help but feel sorrowful. I tend to have panic attacks, I cry a lot, sometimes, I can’t even bring myself to leave the house, and I hate it all. I hate that he has had that kind of impact on my life. I hate that I constantly look over my shoulder when I’m alone. I hate that I don’t trust people as much as I used to. I hate

Oh Lord…

If you have been keeping up with my blog, then you know what I have been through (for the rest of you, you might want to start at the beginning). Like my disclaimer says on my sidebar:

I have lived through experiences that have shaped me into the often cynical, never hateful, magnanimous, shattered loner of a young woman that I am. 

Now before I delve deep into this post,

Part I

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

I know what you’re thinking: “How does it get any worse?” I had mentioned in another post that I endured being blackmailed into having sexual encounters with The Recluse because I knew that it wouldn’t last; once he had his way with me, I would be back in the arms of the one person I truly loved. How messed up is that!?

Start Over…?

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

If you haven’t guessed by now, this is the point in my life when things greyed (as mentioned in my Intro). I had been repeatedly raped, blackmailed, and my boyfriend, the love of my life, had just left me after finding out. I was alone. I was depressed. I was suicidal. And all for what? Something terrible happened to ME, and as a result, the one person in this world that I cared for the most turned his back on me, and considered himself the victim. The worst part: I believed I deserved it.

The only good thing that came out of that fateful night was that The Recluse had disappeared: no texts, no calls, no random appearances. He was gone.

Is It True!?

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

What if he’s bluffing? He wouldn’t tell people. He’s just mad that I’m not his slave anymore; that I’ve finally stood up for myself.

Boyfriend had showed up just like he did hundreds of nights before. It was approaching dinner time. Mom was in the kitchen making dinner, Dad was in the family room on his laptop, and Boyfriend and I were in the living room watching tv. For a fleeting moment, my life was normal. This was how many evenings were spent in our household. That was until he showed up…

This Is It. No More.

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

Boyfriend is back. All is right with the world. He said he would leave me alone. He said he wouldn’t tell. He said…

“YOU THOUGHT WE WERE DONE, DIDN’T YOU? I LIED. COME SEE ME.”

I can’t. I won’t. Boyfriend will find out. “No.” Was all I responded with.

“DON’T MAKE THIS HARDER ON YOURSELF THAN IT HAS TO BE. YOU DON’T WANT TO WAKE MY DEAMONS, DO YOU? YOU HAVEN’T SEEN ANYTHING YET. ”

Not Again. Not Ever.

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

So I have a secret. Who doesn’t? Well… not many people have quite the unsettling secret that I have. Should I tell someone? Should I risk everything in the hopes that everyone believes me over him? As long as I stay away from him, I will be fine. He can’t hurt me anymore. What if I do tell and they believe him? Everyone will hate me. Everyone will blame me. They will think I’m a slut. Boyfriend will breakup with me and life as I know it will end. I don’t want him to leave me. I love him.