Broken Pieces On The Inside

They say time heals all wounds. That if you’re just patient and you wait it out, you’ll make it through. The memories are supposed to fade. The sharp sting of the pain turns into a dull ache. Eventually it will fade, you’ll feel better and everything will seem brighter. That’s what they say happens. I used to believe them.

It’s been one year since I was raped. One year since I escaped P’s misery. I think it hurts worse than ever. I thought this was supposed to go away. I keep remembering more and more. Everything my mind locked away is coming flooding back. Maybe it’s because I’m more aware of how bad it really was now. I’m still not equipped to handle this. It makes me feel so empty, so broken. Most of all alone. No one knows how much I go through in a single day. I can’t talk about it. I can’t cry about it. I don’t understand how you can equate words or emotions to an experience like that. They just won’t come anymore. I don’t even know if I could describe it to someone bothered to ask what it feels like.

No one will ask though. I hide behind a facade of perfection. I’ve gotten even more successful this summer. Leadership positions, recommendations and awards keep flowing my direction. Everyone I work with loves me. I have a feeling many would be stunned if you told them what I was hiding. I wouldn’t want anyone to know though. The image of me would be ruined if they realized how weak I really was. I also don’t want to put the burden of what I’ve been through on anyone else’s shoulders.

I don’t want to be this messed up. I want to be strong. I just don’t know how to deal with this. How can you handle something like that? I can’t make four years of my life disappear. I can’t erase the betrayal of having someone you love do something so horrible to you. It won’t go away. No matter how hard I try it just won’t go away. I just find myself becoming more and more numb, retreating further inside myself and behind my walls. I’m afraid I’ll get to a point where I’ll never be able to open up or trust again.

At this point I’m just praying that someone will come along that really cares, because I can’t do this by myself. I can see through people. I know when they are really hurting and need someone to talk to. I feel it radiating off of them like an energy. And there’s something about me that makes them want to open up. I’ve had everyone from close friends to complete strangers tell me their deepest, darkest secrets. Sometimes you just need someone to talk to that’s kind and honest. That’s what I try to be. That’s what I really need right now. I don’t have anyone in my life like that at this point though. My parents are useless, and I wouldn’t trust any of my friends not to tell someone. I guess right now all I have is me. I’m going to have to push through alone.

Letting It Out

Emptiness. There’s a whole lot of that inside. It’s coupled with a painful ache in my breast that continues on and on, no matter what I do. I know I have become numb to many of this world’s emotions. Maybe because I live in a house where every member of the family is using something to dull their pain. My dad chooses the stereotypical: narcotics, marijuana, and alcohol. My younger brother can’t go a day without smoking weed. He’s thoroughly addicted. My parents are completely aware and do nothing about it. My mom is addicted to escapism. All she does is read romance novels anymore. She used to be very active, but now all she wants to do is envision her dream man and ignore the mess of a husband sitting next to her. I think that’s what has hurt me the most this summer, seeing how much my family is suffering. I’ve lived in this misery for three months. I’ve tried my best to try and fix it, but I don’t think I’m capable. The only one who will even acknowledge there’s a problem is my brother, but the only way he knows how to handle it is by getting high. I regret living at home this summer, but I really had no choice if I wanted to be a part of my internship at CHOP. That experience has made this hell worth it, but I can say I am counting the days until I go back to Penn State.

I have to admit I have my own addiction though. It gets worse every time something bad happens. I’m obsessed with chasing perfection. At first it was just school. I could save myself from the pain by immersing myself in studies and extracurricular activities. There’s always been something driving me to be the best. However, this summer I have had no school so my perfectionism has become focused on something else, fitness. I workout six times a week and I eat nothing but lean protein, whole grains, fruits and vegetables. I’m not really sure what my goal is, except to achieve physical perfection. I know that’s not possible, but I’m striving for it anyways. At this point, I feel like my body is the only thing in life that I have control over anymore.

I’m sorry for all the “Oh woe is me!” whining I’ve been doing. I just really needed to get all this out somewhere. I honestly have no one to talk to that I trust with this kind of personal stuff. I need to let it all out. I feel calmer and more at peace now that I’ve said it somewhere. I’m hoping eventually I’ll just be able to let it all go.

The Story Of How It All Fell Apart (Part 2)

So after the fight with my parents and finding out about the real G, I didn’t really think it all could get any worse. I was quite upset, so S decided we should go out to the club Thursday night to have some fun. I invited A along too, because I hadn’t hung out with her in a while. A and S don’t particularly like each other. However, they pretend to be friends because they both want to be friends with me. Normally, they get along when it’s the three of us but sometimes it can get a little tense. I thought that they would behave, because of everything that happened. They both knew I was struggling with everything that happened. Unfortunately, I was wrong yet again and it was not alright.

The problem started when we were walking to the club. A pulled me behind the group of people we were with and told me that she knew S didn’t like her and I needed to fix it. At first I was dumbfounded and just stared at her. She then continued saying I was the only person that could make S like her and it was my job as her friend to do that. I tried to suggest that she talk to S about it. She refused saying that wouldn’t work, insisting that it must be me. I told her I wasn’t going to get in between them, because they were both my friends. It was way too much for me to deal with and if she wanted a nice solution to the problem she should talk to S herself. Apparently, this really pissed her off because once we rejoined the group she said she was tired and left to go home.

Of course S sensed something was up right away. She asked me why A had left. I told her A was mad at me, but not to worry about it. We ended up not being able to get into the club, because it was too crowded so we just went back to the house. Once I got back to the house, I had seven text messages from A calling me a horrible friend and a horrible person. She said S would like her if I tried harder and it was my fault that they didn’t get along. At that point, I had had enough and I just started crying. S read the text messages and decided to call A to try and talk it over. They just ended up getting into a huge fight as well. Shortly after S hung up the phone, I got a text from A saying she was done with me because all I bring is grief and drama and she didn’t want to be my friend anymore.

The one good thing that came from A and G was that my parents forgave me and I was able to go to the lake. The big issue is that I’m supposed to live with A all of next year. We signed an apartment lease together. The rental company allows lease transfers with no penalty, but A is refusing to move. I want to live in our apartment, because it’s next door to S who is my closest friend at the moment. So right now I’m stuck with a roommate who hates me and her neighbors, but refuses to go somewhere else. It’s absolutely ridiculous.

And that’s not all folks. When I got home on Sunday, G IMed me acting like nothing was wrong. He just sent me his usual “hey, what’s up?” I was mind boggled. I resolved to ignore him, because I didn’t want to hear whatever bullshit excuse he had for disappearing for a week. Unfortunately, it got to a point where I had to talk to him because he started asking everyone if they knew why I was mad at him. It was utterly ridiculous. The conversation was quick. I told him I wanted nothing more to do with him. He asked if I would at least tell him what he did wrong. I refused. He told me, “it’s your life” and promptly unfriended me on Facebook.

So that’s my story. I apologize for the length. I’ll be writing a post detailing how I feel about all this shortly.

The Story Of How It All Fell Apart (Part 1)

The week of July 4th was when everything fell apart. My family was having a reunion out on Raystown Lake from that Tuesday through Sunday. My parents and brother were going for the entire time. I had to work Monday and Tuesday. The original plan was for me to go to State College to celebrate Independence Day (on Wednesday) with G/my friends and then drive down to join my family afterwards. Unfortunately, it all went horribly wrong.

Monday night before my parents left, we got into one of the worst fights of my entire life. I couldn’t even tell you what it was about, because the issues with my family are deep seeded and have been going on for years. My father is addicted to whatever he can to numb his pain. He calls it back pain, but it’s really the emotions of having divorced parents that didn’t love him and being a Vietnam War veteran. At this point he is usually so high on whatever (narcotics, weed, alcohol, etc.) by 4 pm that he doesn’t remember anything I say. Our relationship has fallen into a state of nonexistent ever since he started giving up on life. He’s a shell of a man that I can no longer respect.

My mother is a different story entirely. We both have extremely strong personalities. She thinks that because I’m her daughter she can say whatever she wants to me, no matter how rude or insensitive. We fight a lot, and she’s a large part of the reason why I left home at 16. The only reason I live at home now is because of my internship at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. I would never come back here without a really good reason. My main issue with my mom is that she is too cowardly to leave my dad or lay down any ultimatums that will force him to change. She’s told me she has no connections with him and barely understands him, yet she continues to do nothing about it. She is miserable, but too afraid to confront him. I can’t respect that either.

All of this makes my house a horrible place to live. There is constant tension and conflict. No one is happy, and no one says anything about it except me. That is why we got into such a huge fight that Monday evening. It was so bad that I was essentially told I was unwelcome at our family reunion. Luckily, S is a good friend. She was planning on staying at the fraternity house with Bryan at Penn State during that time, so she made arrangements for me to stay there too. There’s a lot of empty rooms in the summer because so many brothers go home. I was hoping to just forget about my troubles and have some fun with G and my other friends at school, but that didn’t go as planned either…

G was supposed to be staying at the frat house as well from Tuesday to Friday. However, when I got there on Wednesday he was nowhere to be found. I hadn’t heard from him. He essentially disappeared. One of the other brother’s overheard me talking about it with S and told me he had driven G to a tailgate not an hour before I arrived. He said G was in State College, but he had no idea where he was staying. This was when everything started coming out. I guess some of the brothers felt guilty for all the lies he told me, but I slowly started to piece together a story of deceit and G doing a lot of sleeping around. I officially decided I was done and would never speak to him again. I also consummated that decision by hooking up with one of the more attractive brothers. Not my best move, but at the time I just wanted to feel good. As far as I know, G hasn’t found out about that.

*This is only Part 1 of my story. I’m going to split it into two parts so it isn’t extremely long.

The Storm Raging Inside

About two months ago I wrote my farewell post for this blog. Well, I’ve decided to resurrect it, because the sad truth is I still need it. I have no one to talk to about the demons that haunt my mind. I thought I had beat them, but I could not have been more wrong. I merely tries once again to bury the memories deep. Tried and failed.

I can’t really describe how I feel on the inside. There’s a constant ache, pain coming from long forgotten places. It’s crippling to my emotions. I honestly think I feel nothing sometimes. I’m freezing. My heart’s as cold as ice. I worry I won’t ever be able to trust another person again. I fear I may have lost the ability to love. Or rather, it was stolen from me.

The conclusion I’ve come to is that I need to start blogging again. I need an outlet for the storm raging inside me. I’ll be sure to update shortly on what has transgressed these past two months. Unfortunately, I don’t have much happy news. We just have to keep soldiering on though, right?