As far back as I can remember, my mom (biologically my grandma, but she's raised me basically since birth so I call her mom) has abused me mentally, emotionally, and every great once in a while physically. I don't know what the hell happened to her to make her the way she is, but that woman has put me through hell and back so many times that I lost count by the time I was ten. Just yesterday I wrote in my journal about a couple of things she's done to me. I've never felt loved by her, and I've never felt safe, or important, or even like I was a person who was worth spending time with and getting to know. She's threatened to kill me in my sleep. A few months ago she took a cookie sheet and hit me in the back with it really hard, right between the shoulders. Once she pretended to call the cops on me, saying that she was gonna have them take me and put me in a foster home. She even made me get some stuff and go outside and sit on the step and wait for them. I sat out there for what seemed like forever, and finally fell asleep. In the morning she came out and laughed at me and said, "Did you really think I called the cops?" A couple of months ago she called me a whore, and when I started crying she laughed like it was the most hilarious thing she'd ever seen in her entire life. She's always calling me names and stuff.. God, I hate her. She even got my hopes up in january by saying she'd emancipate me when I turned seventeen in may, but of course she hasn't.. but that's only the first part of my story..
Two years ago, on April first, I had a huge fight with the boyfriend I had at that time. I was beyond pissed at him for all of the things that he said to me that night. I've never been good at dealing with my anger, so, in typical idiot Amber style, I tried to use drugs to make me forget. I popped a few pills and decided to go for a walk, up to the town square. By the time I got there, the pills had just started to kick in and I was feeling a little dizzy so I laid down on the ground. I was staring up at the sky, hoping that it would start raining, when all of a sudden this guy tripped over me. Apparently, he was too wasted to notice the death glare I was giving him, or he just decided to ignore it, because he introduced himself, said his name was Jake. I tried to just walk away from him, but I didn't really get very far.. I think I took about four steps before I had to sit down again. And the next thing I knew, I was naked on a bed with this guy I didn't know, and hadn't wanted to know, inside of me. I don't know how the hell I got to that place from the park, but then again, there are a lot of things that I don't remember. I don't know, I guess I'd blacked out or something. I couldn't move, partly because of the drugs, partly because of the shock.. so I just laid there and stared at the ceiling until I blacked out again. I woke up a couple more times, and everything is still really hazy, but I swear to god, I will never forget the look that was on his face as he came in me.. I blacked out again after that and the next time I woke up I was back in the park. I went home and went to bed, never realizing it for what it really was. I even told some of my friends (the ones that I'm really close to, I tell them pretty much everything) that I'd had sex that night, and when I saw Dustin later that day, the guilt was unbearable. He had come to my place to apologize for everything that he said.. I don't know how I made it through ten more months of being with him. But of course that wasn't enough, three weeks later I found out I was pregnant. It was Jake's. Dustin and I hadn't had sex, and we never did, I just couldn't bring my self to do it. I wish I could say that I eventually learned to accept it, that my baby and I are living happily ever after right now. I did accept it. After I accepted the fact that I was gonna be a mother and would have to be more responsible, I even loved my baby. But six days after my fifteenth birthday I had a miscarriage. I never told anyone, up until a few months ago. I didn't even go to the hospital. It's pretty much a miracle that I didn't get an infection. The first person I ever told was my ex-girlfriend Lizzy. I love her so much, and I felt like I could tell her anything.. so I did. Then I told my friend Josh, who was my best friend Amber's boyfriend then. I said I didn't mind if he told Amber for me, so he did. Then I told Carrie, then Ashley, my other two best friends. It wasn't until I was talking to this girl Jessi on aim that I truly realized that Jake had raped me. I mean in the back of my mind I always knew it, it just wasn't something that I could admit to myself. Jessi said "so wait a minute.. this guy raped you?" and I thought, 'god.. she's right, he did rape me..'
I just saw him, right before my birthday. I did a whole bunch of shit that night that I don't remember doing.. when I woke up in the morning, my room was completely trashed, and there were the huge cuts all over my legs.. It was the first time I'd ever cut that deep. Actually, it was the first time I cut my legs, too.
I'm not really sure why I chose this community to do this.. I don't see myself as a survivor. I'm not one, not yet at least. I think I'm gonna be the victim for a long time. But eventually.. I hope I'll be able to overcome this. I don't think I'll ever be able to trust a guy fully again, but that's something I can live with. I'd much rather be with a girl anyway.. ^_^
Thanks so much for listening. I feel a little better now that I've finally told the whole story.. ^_^