Sometimes, you can't find the right words to describe how you're feeling. You don't know how to think, what to say, how to react. Sometimes, you just have to bottle up all of your emotions until the bottle is so full that the cork won't stick. Sometimes, it takes that much for everything to finally make sense in your mind, and in your heart.
I'm letting the cork out now - in writing. Some say it's better to confront whoever/whatever is causing you so much grief, but I usually prefer to steer clear of any confrontation due to my fear of rejection, and not being taken seriously. So I get my frustrations out here - I'm just not sure if anyone else out there (other than my computer) will be listening, but here goes.
I'm the type of person that needs to be shown love, in a way that I will recognize it. Not in some secretive, 'FBI-can't-even-dig-deep-enough-to-uncover-it' sort of way. Otherwise, I basically will feel like dirt. I've had some self-esteem problems since I was basically starting my senior year of high school. I felt that everything about me needed to change, from my gapped-tooth smile to the number that pops up on the scale as I step on. Mainly my image is what bothered me.
-----
Shortly after I turned 17, my sister, cousins, and I went on a walk down to our local grocery store, and took a shortcut through a fairly new apartment complex. We saw two boys doing BMX tricks on their bikes in the lights that shined from the street into the parking lot. Because it was nearly 9pm, and mid-September, it began to get dark a lot more quickly, and we had a hard time seeing everything. My sister thought it was one of our mutual friends, so we yelled for the boys to come over our way.
Turns out, it wasn't who we thought it was. But these two boys were cute, charming, and really nice. We all talked for a while and exchanged numbers, and off we went.
After about a month, the older, blonde-haired kid made me his girlfriend. It was my first 'real' boyfriend I'd ever had. I was always shy in school and didn't have many friends, so it made me feel really great about myself, that someone was attracted to me, and enough so that they wanted to date me!
After a month or two, things started to turn sour. He essentially pressured me into doing sexual things that I was not ready for, but he was my first 'real' boyfriend, and the things you hear about in school just really make you think that you are supposed to do these things, and they're normal. Even after awhile, I was still not comfortable, but he still was with me and I was doing the things he wanted me to do. I thought that is what happened when you love someone. Because 'fairy tales' don't happen in real life.
In October or November, this boyfriend went PSYCHO and ended up beating up his old roommate, who happened to be the son of a police officer. After that happened, I was scared and called my parents to come get me. They forbade me to see him anymore, and although I was blind at the time, I see they really had my best interest in mind.
I would end up sneaking out to see him, because he would threaten to call off our relationship if I didn't bow down to him and do everything I asked. He didn't have a car, and he wasn't allowed over, so I had to be the sneaky one.
He would always ask me to do more things that made me feel uncomfortable, and if I didn't obey, he would hit me, pinch me, pull my hair, physically fight with me, hold me down on a bed and RAPE me as I was kicking and trying to scream, but he would cover my nose and mouth so I couldn't breathe. Sometimes I would bite him until my teeth cut through his skin, but he would keep going. I was constantly covering up bruises and marks on my body from where he harmed me. He threatened to me that if I ever got the police involved, or if I ever sent him to jail, he would use his one call he got to set up a gang rape. Today, I am not sure if he would have done that or not, but it terrified me at the time, so I just handled the torture.
Sometimes the neighbors could hear me screaming, but they never tried to see what was going on. This boyfriend would also tell me how fat I was, how I needed to change my appearance and lose weight so that he would be more attracted to me. I didn't eat, and I lost a lot of weight. My dad had an idea of what was going on, but I always stuck up for this boy, because I felt that he loved me and that is how love worked, and my dad didn't want to lose me.
Anyway, after awhile, we were constantly breaking up and getting back together. Finally, after 10 months, I was able to see the light and get the courage to say I never wanted to get back together with him. He was begging and pleading for me to come back, and was confessing his 'love' for me, apologizing over and over again. But I didn't turn back.
He would continue to call me, leave me voicemails, and send nasty text messages that caused me to have multiple panic attacks. One of the times, I was driving and had no clue where I was or what was happening, I was supposed to be at work, but somehow I was driving back towards my work from the downtown area - to this day, I still have no idea how I got there. I called my dad, panicking, and he told me to pull over at a gas station. When he got there, I was hyperventilating, I couldn't feel my hands or my feet, and I could not stop crying. My dad asked me if I had taken any drugs, and I said 'of course not!' through my tears. He had to call 911 and the paramedics had to help calm me down, and almost gave me some sort of shot to get me out of the shock-mode I was in.
I truly feared for my life. Eventually, the calls and messages stopped, but I always am afraid that he is following me, that he knows where I am, that one day I might be driving right next to him and he will shoot me.
I believe this is where I lost all of my self-confidence, and my anxiety and depression began.
After that, I dated someone for just over two years, and he never was physically abusive, but if I messed up dinner, or accidentally washed money through the washer, I would get told I was 'retarded' or 'stupid'. I would always get told how fat I was and get yelled at for anything and everything. I sure know how to pick 'em...
Now, back to the story!
-----
Recently, I have felt like I don't measure up to what is expected of me. I will admit that I am lazy, sometimes I will slack on dishes or laundry, but I will catch up. I do have two dogs to care for that need more attention than a toddler, and taking care of them and the house, plus trying to look for and apply for and interview for jobs all seems to wear me down more than I could have ever imagined.
I've also gained weight, which does not help with my self-confidence issues, and I rarely will wear makeup since I don't leave the house unless it's for a job interview or to the grocery store.
I won't post all of the details here, but I will just say that there have been a series of events that have led my mind to believe that in my current relationship, love is lacking. Like I am no longer good enough.
I realize that anything physical isn't the root of all relationships, and I know that as a Christian woman I will be judged. I have no excuses, and am willing to admit that I am not a virgin, nor am I married. But when you are in a relationship where it was 'the norm', with a totally handsome boyfriend that couldn't wait to be off work to see you and kiss you and hold you (and maybe more), and now it's nothing more than 'good morning kisses' and 'good night' kisses, you start to wonder what is wrong with you.
I might be crazy, but it seems like even the bathroom and the tv get more time with him than I do. And I just don't know what to feel, how to think, what to say. Any time I bring up those recent events, I feel like what I have to say is not important and my feelings are disregarded. I hate feeling that way, but bringing it up just makes it worse. So I guess in the end, I have to say the only way I can let the cork out of the bottle is here, in writing, where I won't feel rejected or where my feelings won't feel inferior.
That's all that's on my mind tonight. I don't even have a clever way to end this post. Time for bed!
