I am not sure I am ready to say what I am going to type, but at the same time I need to.
Two years ago me and my dad were in another fight. By this I mean I was being cussed at and called a stupid idiot as he was inches from my face. He would spit as he talked. I was told by my mom not to cry so I never did. I left my home and got in a truck with John. He is 6'6 and about 290.
I am 5'3 and 105.
We had a drink or two as we drove. He put his hand on my chest and started groping me as we were driving. I pushed his hand away and told him to stop. He drove to a secluded neighborhood. Parked by a lake, and got out to pee. I locked the doors. He opening them with a keyless entry. The second he got in the truck I begged him not to sleep with me. (I was a virgin, southern baptist, somewhat innocent)
He replied "It's not like I am going to f you"
He pulled down my pants. I put my hands over my underware and he finally pinned my arms under his knees. He stuck his hands inside of me, then his mouth, then he would try and shove his tongue in my mouth. Going back and forth. It hurt so much. I couldn't move and I couldn't breathe with him on top of me. After a while a car pulled by and flashed its lights. He started the truck and took me home. I went inside and took a shower, feeling sick, dirty, and like a slut. He stole something that I had saved for my husband. He took my virginity and left me feeling like a whore.
I had to get that off, I had to take a shower. I went in at midnight and washed.
A week later, another fight with dad, I ran to the bathroom in tears. I didn't know waht to do and I couldn't cry. I found scissors and started cutting. I wanted to cut what was wrong with me out of me. I wanted to be so ugly so no one would ever touch me. I wanted to cut because I knew I was hurting but no one else did. I needed to communicate something and I couldn't.
Two years later and I am still silent. Mom and dad still hate eachother and dad was given a year to live, now the year is up. Mom with parkinson's dad with 15 percent of his heart. Neither in love.
The fighting doesn't stop and holidays make is worse. Two years since I started cutting, and since I was held down in the truck. 100 days on December the 2nd that I have chose not to Self Harm. I don't know how I can last. This Saturday, mom yelled and hurt me. Then sat beside me and I could feel her body tremor. The duality sucks. I found razor blades and cried, but didn't harm.
I feel lost and that scares me. I don't know if I can make it.