There’s one thing that helps me handle life sometimes. Life is ironic. No matter what you think will happen, life likes to take that sharp right turn and taking you down a road that you don’t expect. Unfortunately, for me, I’m starting to expect the bad things. It seems to be a unifying theme to my life. Oh, you’ve been abused for 13 years, let’s throw a rape on top of it. That’s not enough, let’s also have one of your abusers die of cancer. That abuse you sustained when you’re a kid, you’re going to have a lot more of that.

It wasn’t until I took time out to take stock of myself that I realized that I was just perpetuating the problem. I then decided to stop. And while that is still my conscious decision, I’m still feeling like I have to deal with it in one aspect of my life. Just when one part of my life feels like it’s coming together, something else seems to fall apart. Or maybe I’m starting to fall into despair because of having to deal with fighting for months now.

The people who make me happy make so incredibly jubilant. The happiness I feel right now is so incredible. I didn’t think that I could be this happy. At the same time, I feel like I have to deal with things that I said I would never entertain anymore in my life. I have had to for months. I’ve had my trust shattered by someone to the point where I’m uncomfortable. I’m not sure if they’re ever being honest with me. They’ve hurt me so profoundly, especially after pulling the coup d’grace, telling me that whatever I’m seeing is in my head.

Yeah, I’m back there. I’m back where I was when I was still around the drama group.
Of course, all of this is trying to work back through my rape and abuse. I’m going to go back to where I was raped. I’ve even gone as far as setting a date to do it. To go back to the school I was raped at. I know I can’t see the exact room, but even just being in the presence of it… the thought scares me. I’m nervous and scared. I know that I’ll have good people with me to help me through. People I know that I can trust to be with me at a time where I will be incredibly vulnerable. A part of me is scared that I’ll run into the man who raped me again. It’s a fear that I have every time I go visit home.

I need to do this. I can talk about my rape until I’m blue in the face. I’ve gotten past the initial shock. After having my rapist reach out to me repeatedly, it’s made me want to insulate more. It makes me want to pull back into myself. Not because I don’t think that the people I have can’t help, but because there is so much rage and pain. I can’t necessarily claim that I had much of a childhood. I wasn’t allowed that. But this ripped away my innocence and any sense that I should have been allowed to have like any other 13-year-old girl. This one event hurt me more than my friends calling me she-male when I was in middle school.

It’s one thing to say you’re going to do. It’s another to actually go and do it. Now I’m doing it. There’s a time. I can’t back out now, even if a huge part of me wants to. It doesn’t want to face the pain that I had to deal with, that I still deal with. At least I know I’m not alone this time.

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