I’ve been molested before. I said no, and moved his hand away, I did it again when his hand lowered again. I did it yet again when his hand was going down again. Then I gave up. This was in my own bed. This was after he cornered me and made himself feel appreciated because I was so depressed from a break up with someone I had been with for a couple years. I tried telling myself it was my fault because I had kissed him back before, I told myself it was my fault because I gave up. It’s just one of those lies you tell yourself because you’re embarrassed. Because it’s easier to not admit to.
Another guy sorta tried doing the same thing. Before the phone and the number I have now, I got a text from him, after it had been established I wasn’t interested, asking me things like “Hey baby, what are you wearing? ;)” And my telling him that “No. No I’m not playing that game” and his getting upset first, but stating I had a boyfriend was good enough to get him to chill down some.
I’ve gotten the whistles, I’ve gotten the random passing ass grabs.
I get the comments about my wearing baggy clothes, I get the comments about my wearing male clothing.
I get told I’m pretty, I get told I could look so much prettier if I just... I’ve been called anorexic and had food shoved at me, I’ve been told my stomach is too big, and my legs could stand for some bulking up.
I have depression. When I don’t wake up with wonderful thoughts of my boyfriend, I wake up with thoughts of dying. I’m a coward, I can’t cut myself. When I feel numb, or am just too upset, I have a habit of digging my fingers, and their nails if I haven’t chewed them all off with stress(And so of course that’s the habit I’m doing a bit better on...), into my skin. Sometimes I start tearing skin without realizing it. Other times I light a candle, and dump all the hot wax on to sensitive skin. I watch the wax cool and harden on my skin, then peel it off and stare at the irritated red skin under it.
Someone I thought was my friend, for years, suddenly disappeared on me and got pregnant. I helped take care of her, I got subpoena’d for being the first person he talked to about her family problems. We skipped classes together. I got threatening and hateful messages for being her friend and trying to help her. These threatening messages included things like, a girl trying to tell me to go home and be spoiled, and that it was a shame my dad let me do whatever I wanted and so on. Because clearly I’m just some spoiled kid.
My dad has gotten somewhat better but... I used to puke everyday in middle school. I ate once a day, and couldn’t hold on to all of my food. He yelled, a lot. I flinch and pull away from anyone angry now. Someone raises their voice, I apologize. I do anything that might trigger anything negative from someone, I apologize. It’s clearly my fault and I must make it better so they don’t yell and we can all smile. My dad yelled pretty much all the time to communicate anything with me, because obviously I won’t listen if I’m not yelled at. I tried juggling babysitting my little sister, school, cleaning, and gaming/friends as down time so that I could not break down. Instead of breaking down, I dreamed of running away, but never did because I didn’t want to leave my little sister with my dad who made me cry and vomit from stress.
And then. There are people who get upset, even if it’s just a frowny face level of upset, when I can’t believe them when they say I’m beautiful. They say I’m nice, I’m good, I’m sweet, I’m wonderful, so on, whatever. But I see me. Struggling. Stressed. Depressed. Used. The unfavored child. The never good enough. The you should have ___.
I’m broken, and I’m sorry.
