Monthly Archives: August 2013

Trying to be stronger than I am

Well, I would like to think that I have done quite well this last year in handling my dad’s death, my grandma getting cancer, my dogs death, and all the other bad stuff that has happened. But some nights are extremely hard to handle, especially right now as my dad’s birthday is just a few days away. I just can’t seem to keep a strong handle on the sadness that is swelling more and more the closer it gets to his birthday. A lot has happened in the last year since his passing and I sometimes wonder if I am strong enough to handle it.

July 16, 2012 – Dad passed away

Early August – Started college at 16

August 16, 2012 – Maynard (My dog and best friend) passed away

August 29 – My dad’s birthday

Mid-September – Grandma (Who raised me since 6-ish months old) diagnosed with cancer.

October – My “best friend” told me that they thought I was stupid and hated me

November – Little brother diagnosed with sever childhood bipolar disorder

December – My birth mother told me she hated me and wished she would have aborted me when she had the chance.

Those are just the biggest things to have happened to me over the last year. And I honestly wonder sometimes if I am strong enough to handle all the stuff going on in my life. I am only 18 years old and feel like every time something seems to go good, a million bad things happen. I constantly feel like I am trying to be stronger than I actually am. I try and try and try. For what? To break over and over again?  Some days I really do feel like I need to be stronger than I am. Then I think about all the support I do have and the fact that I can help other girls going through the same thing and I realize that it is worth it to act like I am stronger than I truly am.

Nobody is perfe…

Nobody is perfect. I may not be the most beautiful girl, or the sexiest, or have a perfect body, but I do not pretend to be someone I am not. I am great at being me. I might not be proud of everything I have done but I am extremely proud of who I am today.

The letter that he will never read

So I wrote this to my (now ex) best friend about a year ago. But I know he would never read it. Even if I sent it to him, he would probably just trash it. (Name bleeped on purpose!)

Z****** J****,

I give up. On you. On us. On being your friend. Possibly even on living. I have tried for so many years to be the best I can for you. We met back in the 6th grade and were great friends right off. I even remember the very first time you came over and we sat on my bed for almost 5 hours while you told me your life story and I remember the exact words you said at the end of that. You told me, “I would rather tell you all the bad things now so that if you want to stop being my friend you do it now and not when it will break my heart later.” Well news flash, you broke mine. I knew everything about you and you knew everything about me. We were the best of friends, or so I thought. You crushed me. I tried so hard to win your affection and you would lead me on then leave me in the dust. 

You have completely crushed me. I love you. Yes, still in the present tense. I will probably never stop but I can’t keep letting you break my heart over and over. You never seemed to understand that I would have done absolutely anything for you. I would have given absolutely anything to make sure you were happy, hell, I did! You could call me at anytime and I would walk to where you were to make you feel better. I was always there for you and you couldn’t give two sh*ts about me. Your mom has been telling me for years that I had no chance and that She didn’t understand why  I was so into you, and I could never give her a reason.

I want to yell at you and tell you how much I hate you and never want to ever see you again and that I think you are awful. But I made you a promise once that I would never lie to you. And I never have, ever. But I know you can’t say that same thing. I want to tell you that you can rot in a hole and I wouldn’t care but that isn’t true either.

Honestly, I hope you have a great life. I hope you finally choose one girl to settle down with and marry and have a great life. I hope you finish college and get your doctorate like I know you want to. I hope you have a happy family and a big house and everything you can ever want. I hope you learn how to be happy. And I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I am done with all your BS and lies and heartbreak.

Have a good one. I will miss you being a part of my life. I just can’t take this pain over and over again though. I cannot let my heart go through that. Thank you for helping me through many hard things but f**k you for putting me through some even worse things.

Love always and forever,

your (ex)best-friend Dee. 

My life

A little more about me.

I am a California native who decided one day to pack up her car and drive till she found a place to call home. Four days later, I landed in the mid-west and have been here for around 6 mo. I grew up in a small house about an hour outside of Sacramento. I was one of the only white kids in a black neighborhood. That didn’t become an issue until high school though. 

I graduated high school at 14. By the time I graduated I had been jumped 8 separate times. I had my knee cap shattered twice and had my arm broken once. But that didn’t really matter to me. I was sued to it. My parents had left me in foster care at age 6 mo and my grandparents were granted custody. There are several account of “suspicious injuries” on my record that could never be confirmed. I was too scared to tell anyone and lied about what was happening for many years. 

I met my ex at age 13 and we started going out right away. The first 5 or 6 months were okay and then he started verbally abusing me. It wasn’t long until he became physical with me. About a year after we were together he sexually assaulted me. He had me convinced that no one would want me that I spent almost 4 and a half years with him. 

That leads up to around now. Living with my past and trying to help girls get through the same thing I went through.

Daily prompt: Political correctness

I hate the concept of being politically correct. I will say what I want when I want and how I want to. Seriously, no matter what you say, you will offend someone. Get used to that concept!!!

Lets start with the word black. I have many black friends, I grew up in a basically all black area. But saying that isn’t okay. They are “African-American” and people (mainly white people) get offended when you don’t call them that. Most of them can’t even be traced back to Africa. Then, on the other hand, I have now noticed that when filling out forms it no longer says Caucasian, it now says “white”. Is that because America is getting even more stupid as time goes on and people today don’t know what Caucasian is or what? Sorry, that might not be “politically correct”. Why is it that you can call me white but I can’t call you black?

Or another one of my favorite topics is Christmas. I constantly have people telling me during the holiday season that it is incorrect for me to tell you “Merry Christmas”. So what if you don’t celebrate it? I do. And I will wish you a merry whatever-I-please. I don’t celebrate Hanukkah but I don’t give a flying f*** if that is what you celebrate and want to wish me that. I am so sick of having to say “Happy Holidays” just so I don’t step on some idiots toes.

Trying to be politically correct doesn’t really do any good. It really just pisses people off.

The very first time.

I remember that first time as though it was yesterday. It has been burned into my mind. I was 14 and you were 16. I remember that it was just after Easter and we had been together for over a year. I remember that it was the first time we were allowed to sleep in the same room. 

I was used to the mean words and the heavy hands. I was used to being scared and not trusting. I grew up in a house with harsh words and hurtful hands but That is something I got used to. When you started doing it too, I thought that that was how all guys should be. I thought that was normal because that’s all I knew. But I do know now, you were wrong and I did not deserve that.

I justified what you were doing when people would ask. I always said, “He didn’t mean it. He loves me.” And you always said you did. You told me you loved me and that I was your perfect match. You bought me nice things and told me I was pretty. But that didn’t stop you from yelling behind the doors and calling me a whore. I believed you when you said you loved me and that you would stop. You didn’t. And I have finally figured out that you didn’t love me, you loved having me. 

I should have seen that everything was leading up to that night. The very first time. A time that is forever burned into my mind. We were on my bed watching a show. White Collar. You kept moving your hand over my breasts despite my pleads for you to stop. You reached lower and I moved away. It made you mad. I remember feeling the pain shooting through my face. You broke my nose. You didn’t care about the blood or the pain. I remember the words you said as you ripped my blouse. It was one of my favorites. You told me that you could take what you wanted from what was yours whenever you wanted.

I remember you tearing at my clothing and ripping into my skin. I remember crying and watching the tears mix with the blood. You were telling me that I needed to stop crying or you would give me a real reason to cry. I couldn’t stop crying and I couldn’t stop you.

I tried and tried telling you I wasn’t ready and that I didn’t want it. You laughed at me. Then you told me that no one would believe me if I told. You told me they would mark me as an outcast because of what you had done. That I would no longer be welcomed. I thought you were telling the truth.

I tried to leave a few days later. You said that I could never leave you now because I was all yours. Forever. That no other guy would ever love me. I thought you were telling me the truth and I accepted my fate. We were together for four years. Four horrible, painful, terrifying years.

I was stuck with you for four years because of the very first time you decided to rape me.

Sometimes, you …

Sometimes, you have to give up on people. Not because you don’t care, but because they don’t.

One of the hardest things in life is learning when and how to let go of the bad and negative people in your life. Some people want to build you up sand others want to bring you down. It is a hard thing to differentiate but it does need to happen.