Oh Boy

Yesterday, I stayed in bed. I woke up after a not-so-great sleep and I thought that was the time to start taking a real look at who I'm interested in. Then, I decided that there's no good prospects as far as romance for me. This lead me to have a long talk with my friend who wanted to date. He realized that it was really over and that we were not going to get together right now. He was hoping I'd change my mind. But at the same time, he signed up for kickball so, he knew that we weren't going anywhere. He's still helping me out with business. I'm glad for that. It's just upsetting. I told him things like I didn't trust him when we were in Vegas. It hurt him but I think I needed to get it out. He decided to start things over from the beginning, which is fine. I'm glad to have his support.

So, a while ago, I was dating a guy who was into LARP-ing-- Live Action Role Playing. There are books on story lines and character development. The guy handed me the book to show me "The Curse of Venus." It's a major story line where the person afflicted with the curse falls in love with inappropriate people at inappropriate times, in inappropriate situations and the people that the character likes will find him/her selfish and arrogant. And when I thought about it-- these two guys that I wouldn't mind dating, well, they are both hours away. One of them is not finished with school and isn't sure why he's there. The other one is here and there about being interested and not. And I don't feel that there are any good guys in my area since I'm near a Navy base and a city that had a big problem with drugs-- leaving most people around my age looking for sex or in recovery or actively using drugs. I'm so much better than that shit. But it's still sad that there's no one great for me in my area. I don't know what I'll find if I ever decide to move to New York but I'm sure it's closer to what I want. So, for the guys I'm interested in, I'm giving little attention to them.

I had sessions in the afternoon and ended up feeling better. I'm on my period and I think it just got me on that day. But luckily, it was one day and I recovered. Sometimes, I go through weeks of it, as I've been tracking, and I don't feel like doing much work when I'm in a stage like that. But I'm looking at my free mornings next week and thinking that work would be really good to catch up on. I am also looking forward to getting some of my paintings done and adding to some of the ones that I've had around. I want the older ones to have more depth.

A friend asked me what feels good for me socially. I mentioned work. I couldn't answer. And I thought more of what makes me feel good in general. I feel good after I've sat with a piece and I've been working on it for hours. There comes a point where there's nothing in the world other than me and my painting. I'm focused. I hear nothing. I don't want food. I barely have a drink of water. All it is is me and my painting. And then, I sit down-- and I look at it and I feel so great. I am completely at east. I'm at peace. I'm sitting there, drunk off my painting without drinking. It's the same for sewing and for writing.

One time my therapist asked about what I write about. I don't know. I go into a meditative state and I release. It's only when I discover something and I either write about it but not enough or I don't get to write about it because I'm busy-- and then it stays.
But one thing that I've been working on and I don't know what to do about is the anger I have at my parents for the way they reacted to my rape at age 13. My roommate had mentioned that there should have been concern about me being 13 and having sex-- even if they did not know it was rape. But instead, they focused on so many other things. I guess my mom thought my therapist would take care of it since she didn't know what to do. I even left for my grandparents' house for a week. I talked to friends back home but my grandparents aren't the greatest. I set up AOL but I guess I set it up incorrectly and they ended up having long distance charges for the dial up. My grandpa was upset and a bully to me. It's not what I needed. I don't know if they knew that something inside me had changed. I think that was the time they called my dad an asshole, which they had the right to do. He had just moved out of the house and in with his girlfriend.
It feels like I have moved away from the situation. I wasn't allowed to grieve my father's move from the house and the fact that my parents weren't going to be together anymore. But I don't know if I have any grief for it.
What I have realized is that I don't think highly of marriage and I haven't in a long time. I think marriage leads to unsatisfied people who care about each other but don't want to leave each other. My grandma complains to the high heavens about my grandpa and at one time told me that she wish she could divorce him or that he dies soon. But when he got diabetes and had to take classes to learn more about his nutrition, she was really sad. It's like my mom too. She married her husband because he wanted to take care of her and aside from that, he doesn't care what happens. She said that he doesn't care if she moved out and was with another guy. But come to the point where he's sick and he might die because of blocked arteries and she's falling apart and begging for him to consider surgery. He already understands that he's going to die. He keeps having talks with her about where his information is for when dies.
And watching the deterioration of my parents' marriage, I just don't have any faith that a marriage will be something that will work out for me. I think that this is what prevents me from wanting a commitment. I get so scared then I sabotage. I want to be over that. 
I've noticed that I write stories that do not have typical endings because I'm tired of the neat Hollywood endings. The stories also piss me off because instead of the guy going back with the girl, the girl chooses to be by herself. There's no happily ever after, no marriage. I think there was a story many years ago where the the man kills the woman for an affair.

My massage therapist is gone for three weeks. I am already noticing my body is tight in some spots, like my hands, feet, lower back and hips. I am doing some exercises. My hips feel better. My core muscles are doing well. I hope that my body gets better. My breasts are so sore. I just feel them sometimes and they are just so tender, especially around the edges. I have been drinking water and taking asprin. Asprin has been my helper this week. I continually get headaches and with the body aches, it's been needed. I also use it as an anti-depressant. I have so many physical symptoms of depression that when I get rid of them, I feel a lot better. If it's not my back, my lack of motivation, it's my stomach and head that hurt when I'm feeling down. Another friend is also a massage therapist on the side and he's agreed to give me a session. I'm not sure when that will happen but I hope it's good. He reminded me that I could bring up issues to my massage therapist like the rape in FL when I thought that I had tearing and the surgery in late 2011. I've talked about my parents and my rape but I have not gone into details about it.

I haven't had sex in a month. I feel pretty good about this. I'm glad that I'm getting my sense of interest back. I used to use sex for anything and everything. Now, I'm avoidant of anything that might get close to it. I went out with a work associate to the casino and decided not to wear a dress. I wanted to. I like wearing them and I'm running out of weather to wear them. But I decided that with a male work associate who already likes me would not be the best situation for a nice dress. I wore a shirt with owls. He said he liked owls. Yeah right. I've been more sensitive to comments about my body too. I feel very self conscious about how huge my breasts are. I wish that when I lose weight from my stomach that I would also lose it from my chest. I feel like I get a lot of attention for pieces of fat that hang from my body, which that society values. It's annoying. Can I just be alone, no hitting on me, no comments on my body, no one talking to me to see if they can have sex with me? This is why I stay home. Now I'm realizing I need a lot less time with people than I thought. I had thought that once a week at game night would be really fun. Now, eh, I'm not so much. I think once a month is fine, especially with battling my energy levels and my headaches. I went to the game night once and met a cool guy, he's supportive but he's also trying to get into my pants. It's annoying. As I've said, I wish I just had my guy friends-- the ones that were not complicated with sexual attraction.

There is a place where no one talks to me, no one hits on me, no one is trying to have sex with me-- that's my neighborhood bar. I like that but at times, it makes me feel like I wasted my time going out. And with not drinking, it feels weird. The bar isn't that active so I end up getting the bar tender a little upset because he has nothing to do and I'm not ordering more. He's also not making much on me if I'm having pineapple juice. But I feel safe there. And I like that it's not the bar where I've slept with everyone. I don't have those in this area. Take me to New Haven and it's a different story.

I feel like I've ran out of steam. I'll update soon. Thanks for reading.

Stability

I went to therapy today. It made me tired. I felt defensive and guarded today. It took me a while to get the message. I feel like my therapist goes back and forth between encouraging me to express my anger and then telling me to not express it when I feel. Today, she was focused on getting me to gratitude instead of frustration. I did not want to hear it. She wants me to do the same old meditation. I do and it helps but I forget.
The thing is that I want to express my anger. I've been writing in journals since I was 10 and now, it doesn't give me that sense of what I need to get to healing. When I was really upset and I'd talk to my brother, he'd basically tell me to get over it. My dad says the same thing. I feel stifled. I feel like I can't say, "You're fucking pissing me off right now." I did a reality check with my friend the other day. I do tend to focus on the negative sometimes. I was hanging out with a friend and I honestly had nothing to say. I wanted to complain about work, movies, books, frustrations with my website, my business, my clients, etc. I curbed it all-- and had nothing to talk about.
The reality check was this: Am I negative when talking about people? I.E. last week, I had this horrible situation with my boss at the group home where I did stand up for myself because I didn't make a mistake but I was still lectured. I feel like this woman probably did decently when she was a resident assistant-- just interacting and helping the girls. Now, she's director of the house and she has more responsibilities than ever and she clearly cannot handle it. I also have never seen her eat on any of the shifts I've had with her. I think she has coffee. She's very high anxiety and does not express any feelings. To look at her, she seems disappointed all the time. One time, she was really anxious about a fire inspection, cleaning and talking about every piece of everything and I made sure to take my time with taking the time cards over to the main office-- because I didn't want to be back unless it was over. When I got back, she was calm.
Well, she pissed me off with talking to me about something I didn't do. The reality of the situation was that she was bothered that one of the girls came into her office to give her a note about a phone while she was on a conference call. She came out to complain to someone and noticed that the downstairs office was open and there were confidential files about. The girl who was home doesn't do wrong unless she's encouraged, and even now she'd really think about it. So, she was not going to steal files, cameras, money, computers, whatever. And I wasn't the last to leave the office, another worker was. I've had training to make sure doors are locked.
There was another shift open this week and I was asked to take it-- but I would have to work with this woman. I refused to do the shift. I'm already doing one with her on Thursday. She'll be up my butt at noon to get a snack ready for the girls at 2. Also, she does not like what I usually make for the girls.

There's another woman. She has gotten me into some art galleries and my artwork hung up in some nice places. The fact is the woman is crazy. She also criticizes everyone-- oh and expects that I know or care who she talks about. She has made it clear, she doesn't like anyone. She helps other artists and she stores their work in her car-- but without care or diligence. She denies being greedy but she is. She doesn't get things done in a timely manner. She talks about herself the entire time she's around someone. And at times, she really pisses me off when she makes comments about my work. She has let me know that artwork gets stolen sometimes. When her phone was stolen in a public place, she blamed the janitor at the city hall. She doesn't like him. She doesn't do her work there well. She told me she charges $200 for what someone else will charge $70-- and then she complains if someone goes to the other person. The other person is just a signature, she caters to the people (or so she says). She criticizes atheists.
Ugh, I just needed that rant. I worry about my work but so far so good. Also, she made me upset by repeatedly not having art openings. Admittedly, this month has been hectic and I wasn't able to visit my work-- which I'll take down next week.

It's been really difficult for me to be around some of my friends. First, there's R. She went to grad school with me. We were close for a while but as she graduated and I was still working on my thesis, I grew distant. R. and her friends were welcoming to me and have been very sweet. But after R's friends got married, things got funky. Most of them waited till marriage for sex and they're going through a very weird phase in their coupledom. I also do not like that a majority of the time, I'm the single one there. Even when I had a boyfriend, I went to the party by myself. R made this thing up where she's trying to be naked as possible during her 30's. Yeah, weird. The last time that I was around them, I overheard that one of the married guys liked me. When he hugged me, his hand rubbed on the side of my boob. I was uncomfortable-- and now I don't want to hang around R. I can hang out with her by herself-- just a dinner or something. She is a colleague. But lately, I've just let R and her friends go the way they're going to go. They're really weird now.

Second, there's Luke. Luke and I have been friends since shortly after I moved to CT. He's been like a brother to me at times. In 2009, he went to CA. I helped him pack and all. But I was angry that he was leaving. He came back 8 months later-- which was no surprise to me as the CA economy was really bad and I didn't know what Luke might have found out there. He wanted so many things that I don't think it was all plausible or realistic-- i.e. finding social work to do on a commune. Luke is now 38, lives at home, not much prospect other than grant writing, not in a relationship nor does he want one. He was waiting for the perfect job, which he had during Occupy Wall Street but that was a short term thing.
What really upsets me other than his arrogance, his lack of direction in life, is that he has a slip disk. I guess with the minimally active lifestyle he leads because he doesn't have a consistent or good income, it's getting worse. It's really tough for me to think that he's just sitting at a computer, all hours of the night, withering away. I don't even want to think about it but I see where this is heading.

I feel guilty that I'm letting these friends go. I was close to them at one point. And maybe I didn't see the flaws or they weren't so apparent that they are now. I spent so much time alone, I just want to think that I could almost collect friends-- have them here and there and keep them. But it seems like I've grown out of them. And it's taken me a while to feel ok with that.


Oh, boys. So, I've kept to the no sex. I've been praying for strength. And honestly, I'm trying to go back to when I was 13 and figure out what my sex drive would actually be like if I were allowed to explore it on my own. I find myself generally disinterested. I have even grown tired of being hit on. I especially dislike being hit on about my boobs. I'm so intelligent. Why not notice that? Why notice this thing that I don't have any control over? A friend commented that a man can compliment a woman if she noticeably takes good care of her body-- but that's for someone else, not me. My fucking boobs are huge. They get noticed. I think some girls would flaunt them more. I don't want the fucking attention. So, this guy online hits on me. I was in a chatroom for my area and I was having a good conversation about money and b.s. There wasn't anything in the room to suggest it was for singles or anything like that. I just wanted to talk to some people in my area since I was lonely. He said he was 41. I'm almost 30. There is a big difference here already. He asks me to get on cam and I reluctantly do so. He asks me questions and I just couldn't care less. He showed me his big arms while fishing for compliments on how big they were. So, then he makes a comment on my boobs and I turn off cam. He starts apologizing but it was bad-- it was "I'm a guy." Yes, boys will be boys-- you can have a nice night. He asked me to the casino and I politely declined-- keeping my anger in-- and he got the message. Of course instead of just getting the message and being like, "OK, bye," he says, "I guess we're on two different pages here, have a good night." OMG, yes, and shut the fuck up. It's not my fault you hit on me. But I'm glad that it was put out there and no harm no foul-- I showed disinterest.

Now, there is a boy I like and I want to be with. But he doesn't seem to understand the healing process, the distance, the irritability, the emotional instability, etc. I've been acting crazy. I've been doing things that he says shows him I'm not interested. It's not that I'm disinterested. I was not capable of doing what I needed to do in order to be in a relationship. I hope that one day he comes around and realize that it has nothing to do with him. I needed time to really, really heal and be ready for a relationship. I was also not happy about any possibility of being alone while I was taking this hiatus from sex and while I was confused about where I am with my sexuality-- just the frequency and how do I know when I'm authentically turned on compared to when I feel obligated to have sex/sex is going to be expected. I like sex. It feels great for me. But how often do I really want sex? And in the end, what do I really want my life to be like? I'm working on healthy sexual attitudes. I've been praying for strength and for faith to help me when I'm tempted to just sleep with someone so I can feel their body next to mine and feel connected. I want to wait till I'm in a relationship-- and right now, I'm OK with waiting for that. Tomorrow is a different story, though, and thoughts can feel overwhelming and that I have to act on them. I'm learning not to, though.

I took time over the weekend to write. I wrote stories about far away places with vengeful princes and fathers-- all things that relate to the rape. The first one was about a murderous king and father. The second was about a jealous prince who took the heart of a pretty girl. I think the next will be that the woman's voice is taken. I'm planning more creative endeavors related to this healing period. I just bought canvases so that I can be productive with those-- after I clean more room and get to work on some of my other paintings. I want to have a deeper range in my artwork. Also, I feel that being away from sex can help with the creativity. I almost want to wait as long as I can in order to have the energy to focus on creative endeavors. Maybe something or someone will change my mind but it'll be a productive period in the mean time.

I have been feeling more stable and it feels good. 

I better go.

This is what it comes to

When it's all said and done, I really don't expect anything to turn out well for me in the end. There are ebbs and flows to life. When there is a period of good, later, there will be a period of bad.
Last month, I went to Vegas. I haven't been in 10 years and it was going to be a great trip. My psychic friend repeatedly told me to go. I did. It was a little against what I wanted-- because I was looking for some time to myself, some partying, some gambling, and just enjoyment. I got a portion of that. I got a portion of being depressed. It didn't help that my friend didn't recognize my signs of depression, that I didn't get to be alone for 5 days, and he was very possessive of me (and my time). I feel like the worse of it was the night after I drank too much and ended up passing out when his friends were over. I had wanted some time to myself. He had bothered me right before they came over. I wanted to cry and cry and be by myself. Instead, I had to entertain. It was fun but I always feel like I've joined a party and missed the first 15 years-- the ones with the funny stories about such and such place with that person whose really funny I haven't met. It's very boring to be on that side of things.
The morning after this party, he asks me about driving to his place. I had met up with a guy who I was sleeping with-- and who this friend knew about-- and I just kissed him and went on my way to see my friend and head to Vegas. I was very stressed about the trip. I was considering not going because my friend had been so insistent on being together. I felt pressure, all the while, my friend was telling me that he wasn't pressuring me.
So, he confronts me-- says he read a text because I had my phone in my hand open to a text conversation with the booty call I saw before I went to see my friend and fly off to Vegas. I felt like he might have actually gone through my phone-- and not that my phone was open to this text. My phone tends to shut off pretty quickly and I have it password protected. But with his insistence on looking over my shoulder, I had no choice but that he saw my password a few times. I didn't feel I had anything to hide.
He tells me about how great I am (when I'm not feeling it). He tells me that this guy is not who I should be hanging around (maybe in my drunken state, I asked him but I was not interested in his "friendly" opinion on my sex life at that moment). I cried. He kissed me skin repeatedly, telling me positive things about me. UGH. I wanted to curl up and die. He didn't leave me alone for a second. We had made plans already to meet his friends, all we had to do was walk over to their hotel. Again, sucking it up and pretending like everything was fine. It made me tired. I wanted to have a good trip. I wish I didn't go at that time with him.
It was interesting to see my thought process before Vegas. I didn't want to tell anyone. I didn't want to get excited. It was going to be taken away from me if I did, I thoroughly believed that.
My friend commented that my dad doesn't allow for me to be happy or sad. If I'm going through debt problems, my dad says that it could be worse-- I could be dead. If I go on vacation, he says he wishes he could go on vacation. Wouldn't it be nice? I never get a chance to feel anything. But I understand my dad is limited in what he can express. I'm sure somewhere underneath it all, since I look good on paper, he must look good, like he did something right along the way.

It feels weird to tell people that I'm taking a writing vacation. I want to say a retreat but it's not through any organization, like some of the real writing retreats. No, this is me, in an isolated hotel, writing what I can.

I keep getting this prangs of crying. I wrote and went into a meditative state. And then, I wrote again. And then I started this. I feels like this weekend is going to be more than just writing. I guess some healing is going to come from it too. I think it has to. I'm not even an hour into my vacation and I'm already crying for the second time. I think it'll be tough to give up that part of me that second guesses what I want. It's the part of me that maybe makes my writing so well. I write a lot of stories where things don't turn out like the movies. I guess I enjoy the movies-- not the rom coms so much but the ones that are really out there or the ones that are a little dry and funny. I want to love rom coms. They seem so happy and sweet. They're filled with guys who know the right thing to do for the right woman and when he loses her, he tries harder. I like that. But it doesn't seem like that happens for me. I don't get the great guys who are willing to do anything. I get the guys I don't want, willing to wait as long as it takes for me. I haven't worked at the mental hospital for almost three years. One of the guys there says he loves me and he'll wait. A guy I knew in high school said he'd wait. Another friend said he'd wait. It was the guy from high school that I used to try to convince to not like me-- it's a waste. I didn't feel the same for him. It made me aware that I can't control people's feelings and if he wants to wait, then he can: his time won't come and he'll find someone to settle with-- hopefully he'll be happy.

But because I've had males chase after me, especially when I'm not interested, I feel like when I do start to date someone new, I have to prove it has staying power. I almost feel their negative energy on me. I feel like it really won't work out with anyone if all these guys are after me and I don't want them. I wish I could feel comfortable wanting who I want.

I'll leave it at that and get back to this writing.

distracted

I'm irritated today. I feel like my supervisor has been on me about things. I feel like I'm on that verge of burn out. I've been cleaning my room up and getting really tired with that. Yesterday, a guy friend came to hang out. He's a new guy friend so I'm just hoping that it says as friends. He reads energy and is a little bit psychic. I feel like I talk a lot around him, which I like, but it also makes me upset because I don't get to know him very well.

I have been so lost. I'm happy but I'm distracted. I feel like I don't know how to do anything. Example: to go out and meet my friend yesterday, I wanted to change into pants and put on shoes. This should be easy. I sat for a second and then, I watered the plants before I changed into pants and put on shoes. I debated whether to take my purse. And then was confused on how to get there. It's like my brain sticks sometimes. I think people call this brain fart-- where it takes a second to think about what I was just thinking about.

I'm also planning on rearranging my room, to use the space better.

I had lots to write about-- plenty of fuel about my roommate getting on me about dating and my supervisor getting on me about saying "OK" and how mad I was. But I really just don't want to write about it. I just sort of want to sit and watch videos or something real quick, before I drive to my client's house to drive back and have a client, then another client and another client and some time to myself and then a supervision.

Female Friends and Exes

In the past I've written about how tough it is for me to be a part of a community. I was especially aware of this when I was going to church.
I was very focused on a few things-- the rape by Kirk and the damage done when I lived with my ex, Kaze. Kaze didn't intentionally mean to make things worse but it happened. I had a slight thought the other day about events that might have lead up to the rape. I remember the friends I had at the time and that got all chaotic.
I woke up one morning, remembering my childhood friends. For the first 8 years of my life, I lived on a cul-de-sac near a pet groomers and vet. I had two neighbors on either side of us, both were very old until Mrs. Erickson moved out and 30 something female police officer moved in. Then, my family moved up the hill and near some apartments where kids lived. I ended up moving next to a girl who I went to school with and we were in the same grade, but not the same class. Ana was her name and before moving in next to her, I knew only that she was close to her father. I had seen them in the hallways.
Ana was best friends with twins Jennifer and Jessica. I believe all of them were sexually abused-- or at least Ana and Jennifer were. If someone told me that Jennifer killed a kid when she was 6 or 10, I would believe it. Ana lived next to me for 2 years. Our dynamic was awful. I went along and she was mean. She with her cousins were mean. She with Jennifer were mean. They all knew a lot about their bodies and babies. I wasn't interested in knowing about babies. Ana showed me a video once of kids talking about their bodies like it was no big deal. I think it was supposed to normalize the words "penis" and "vagina" to her but it was all very weird. She understood the rape scene in "What's Love Have To Do With It." As I said, she was about the same age as me when I moved in-- around 8 years old.
There are a few things I remember about my friendship with Ana--- she would ask me to do uncomfortable things and then get mad when I would want to leave and then she'd prevent me from leaving, she would get mad at me for really stupid stuff, she and her friends/cousins would cheat constantly at games so I would always lose, and she was hypersexual. There was a time she and Jennifer wanted to play hide and go-get-it, which I think is a tag game where boys go after girls and pinch their butts.
When I started developing at age 8 and when I got my period around age 10, Ana was upset. She tried to have her period too. In a bizarre moment, she took me and another girl-- maybe Jennifer-- into the bathroom to show us that she had been wearing pads and there was nothing on them. If I could have given up puberty, I would have.
Sometimes immature people annoy me. And I think, you know what ruined immature people and children for me? The children I knew when I was a kid.
At some point, Jennifer became pissed at me. Hell if I know what happened. But all I knew is I never hung out with her again. Jessica tried, I think, one time to be sort of close with me again but she was her sister's sister and I didn't let her get close. I think Ana and I also had a falling out and I think it might have been over who owned some kittens or how her cat died. Her cat may have fathered some kittens but the mother had them on our property and eventually moved them. At some point, her cat was found dead on her back porch. Her family blamed mine but we couldn't have done it because we had cats. We weren't doing anything that would put any cats in danger. I thought it might have been the apartment complex because they had been trying to reduce the amount of stray cats in the area. Ana and I weren't close after that.
Ana moved away when I was about 10. I remember watching her dad's car get towed and I felt at ease finally.
A few more memories-- Ana telling me that she took off her shirt and left the blinds opened. She closed her eyes and then some guy was outside the window. She claims he was staring and then she screamed, lying to her mom about how the blinds opened and he was there.
She was upset at me one time for making a family joke about her sister-- saying that her sister had dumbo ears. Her family was looking at family photos and had made the comment that the sister had dumbo ears as a baby. It was not meant to be mean at all, just as a way to participate. But Ana was mad.
Her family invited me over for Christmas. I got to see everyone open their gifts as I only had one. I really wish they would have just waited to give it to me so I didn't have to just sit there, all bored, watching everyone else get things they really wanted.
Jennifer became obsessed with my boobs and with a video camera in hand at a slumber party, she stood next to my bedroom door and asked me to show my boobs on camera. I figured she wouldn't let me out without a fight so I did it. Later, she stayed over at Ana's house after the party had resumed at my place and when she, Ana, and Jessica came back, I asked them to get their things and leave. My mom, brother and I reviewed the tape. I told them what happened before the part came. I hope my mom called their mom to tell her what happened because that's really concerning for kids to do that.
Also, one time Ana's cousins wouldn't leave my room when I wanted to change clothes. I undressed in front of them after attempting to change in the closet. Later, Ana's cousins told people that I changed in front of them. I said that they forced me to and she simply said I had the option of going to the bathroom to change. I was a little upset by that because given all that I've written, I doubt they would have let me do that either. 

So, after Ana left, I was alone. I had some friends but it just ended up badly. Even Rachel, the girl I was friends with in 5th grade. We had a huge falling out in 9th grade. We have since reconciled. I hope that she sees know that I was concern for her and I didn't think she was doing the right thing. It was a lot of unnecessary stress in my life at the time of our parting because I really wanted things to be better for her.
I had some friends in elementary school but they moved away. Even the girls I was close with other than Rachel, moved away. 
I did have girl friends when  I was raped. I almost think they were the worse. And when it comes down to it, I really don't understand how anyone thought that sex between a 13 year old and a 17 year old (soon to be 18) was consensual. I just wonder why no one called the police then. Supposedly everyone knew. No parents thought to? No friends thought to? And I imagine that once school started, it was talked about then, no teacher thought to? I know my teacher didn't think to call because he thought it was already done. My therapist didn't call the police. He was actually encouraging and accepting of it. I didn't feel judged which was sorta nice. The next therapist didn't call the police until I was about 16 (after 2 years in therapy). It did more damage than good but at least it was finally done. Funny how everyone then thought it had been reported after I had talked about it.

Dani was the only girl friend who said it was wrong. Heather R was friends with him. Jennifer D (different from Jennifer and Jessica) got into an argument with me about something stupid and told me she'd go talk to Kirk. It made me throw up. I can't believe she would use my rape against me like that, knowing how bad it was. And Jennifer D also didn't let up when we were arguing. We were arguing over pagers and mine had voicemail while hers didn't. She just left voicemail after voicemail after telling me that she turned off her pager. She talked to my brother and told him that I was immature-- then told me that he thought I was immature too. Oh, geez, an immature 13 year old? I think she was 16 or 17 at the time-- not the best behavior for her either.
Also, Dani and I had our falling out over the drama she would cause. She liked an ex of mine (Evan) and tried talking to me about it. She made up stories and told other people just to get people to not talk, i.e. telling Heather R, who was dating Evan, that I still liked him and was using Heather for details or something. Heather R and I were not the same after that. I don't remember what did our friendship in but I got pretty sick of the lying. 

In high school, it was much easier to hang with the guys. We talked about Simpsons and paint ball. They went snowboarding. We saw movies and went bowling. I didn't have to talk about any of my bullshit with any of them. In fact, I'm pretty sure I didn't. I loved that time. I loved the geeks who were not interested in me. They weren't intrusive. They weren't overpowering. They were just themselves. It was easy to be around them.
I keep thinking that I have guy friends like that-- only to find that they really do like me deep down and it just totally messes it up.

I keep thinking that my friends in childhood were fucked up and didn't know how to manage. It was taken out on me.
This weekend, I hung out with one of my friends and she was awesome. We were girly but not overly girly (no make up or doing each other's hair). We went shopping, talked about boys, had lots of tea and did lots of walking. She's had difficulty in the past and we have very different backgrounds-- two very different lifestyles with depression. But she's been able to figure things out for herself. She knows when to get help. She's supportive and just nice to talk to. It's like what I wish the girls were like when I was growing up.

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Random Blessings

I occasionally have a thought to try to see the blessings of my rape. I was very angry at my dad's girlfriend (now wife) and my dad after my parents' separated. After the rape, I was angry at my dad and Kirk. I was less mad at my dad's wife for her part in the whole situation, leading up to my dad moving out.

What I find interesting is that I wanted to paint each wall in my room at my dad's house a different color. At the same time, I wanted an all black room. I wanted a room that would represent how I felt on the inside. I just wanted to feel like the depression could go somewhere.

I guess on some level, I knew I'd have problems in relationships since I was a little kid. My parents fought a lot. It was the incident with Kirk that really brought about the relationship and sexual issues. I've realized that I've used sex a lot to get away from any feelings. When it's not sex, it's alcohol. Sometimes it's both. I stopped most of that stuff.

I remember when my ex, Kaze, used to get so mad at me when I wouldn't get in the mood. He would guilt trip me. I would be asking myself the same things-- why can't I get in the mood? I wouldn't let him kiss me. We had lots of problems though so it makes sense to me that I wouldn't be in the mood. I'll have to write a whole entry dedicated to our relationship and how it all went wrong. I think I wasn't in the mood because I never felt like I had the choice of whether to be in the mood. I think after the break up with Kaze, I slept with so many people. I think it was because I was trying to tell myself that I could be in the mood a lot. And on top of that, I didn't have to feel much of the grief or any other issue that would come up. I also felt like I met a lot of guys who I felt I took care of-- like their self esteem sometimes relied on me. Sex was the way to do that at the time. It's really not, now. But there's still that part of me that fears rejecting sex because the guy might get mad and attack.

I realized the other day that I want to give up sex and all the distractions of sex so I can write. I haven't written creatively in months. In March, I was working hard on my paintings but then, they went up in the gallery and eventually, they came back and I didn't work on them. There were times I didn't want to have sex with Kaze because I was writing erotica and if I had sex, I'd lose the motivation to finish the stories. I don't have to worry about my success or failure with my creative endeavors if I'm too distracted by boys to get to the writing. What a crazy way to deal!? Now, I don't have to do that. I can work on my creativity and not worry about all these things with boys. My want to be around boys is low. I am very irritable and raw lately.

I had a conversation with a friend this morning and at the end of the conversation, I just didn't feel like he heard what I said. But we are both facing our own issues right now so I think it's the issues talking, more than us talking to each other.

That's all for now.

Memories coming up.

I'm still managing with the fact that I was delusional and in denial after the rape took place. I made up the story to make it more manageable for me. I wanted people to believe that it was just something that happened. I saw him a few times after the rape had happened-- hoping that some sort of relationship could happen. After the rape, Kirk told me to sleep around. He was proud of the fact that he had sex with a 40 year old woman and a 13 year old in the same week or month or whatever it was. It just seems like the sins of how he was taught to disconnect from sex were passed along to me. This is what I mean as it was his sin that was passed along to me-- and he can take it back.
I've written about this before-- I tried to sleep with my friend after I was raped. My friend saw me acting a fool and stopped. He didn't want to have sex. We were both naked. For me, it showed me that this friend really did love and care for me. He and I had our own shit-- like that he wouldn't show up when he said he would but I think he tried for a friendship.
I feel like Kirk was beginning to groom/prime me-- to get me to have the sexual attitude he wanted me to have so I would be what he wanted. I just can't believe in writing out the details how utterly gross he was. He was so gross. I was disinterested in him and yet, I liked the attention so I went along. I didn't want to hurt his feelings and I also felt that if I pissed him off, he was so heavy, he could have done some damage. I was scared for my life.
When I turned to people for help and no one believed me, I really wished he would have killed me after he raped me. I felt like I could have just had it end instead of dealing with the consequences. For years afterward, when I felt overwhelmed, when it would get to me, I would just want to kill myself-- begging for the answer-- WOULD PEOPLE FINALLY FUCKING BELIEVE ME? Would they have just believed me if I killed myself? I then would cry and cry and feel that I couldn't let him win. He didn't have that control over me.

All in all, when it comes down to it, the most harm that was down was the fact that only one person was sort of on my side for a time. Danie. She was the one questioning it. I didn't like that-- it broke through my delusion and made me think that something was actually wrong with the situation. I didn't want to admit that outright. I couldn't handle it at the time. But why did everyone want to be his friend? Why did they want to be on his side or kill him? Why couldn't anyone ask me how I was doing, if I needed support, if they could do anything for me, if they could have just talked to me to about anything of how I was feeling? No one has asked for the details. They all immediately ask who it was. Do you want a name, an address, the person's relation to me? Why does that even fucking matter? I'm still wondering when any focus is going to be turned to me-- when is it my chance to have someone ask me if I'm going to be ok, if it affected my life, if I talk to anyone about it, if I have anyone to talk to about it? WHEN!?
There's an angry 13 year old inside of me who really wants to understand why everyone is so fucking crazy and why no one believes that I could be raped. WHY?! Why.

I really need to be heard here. I really need someone to validate that I have a fucking side to this story and it's the real one. It's not the one that my family doesn't think about or talk about. It' not the one that my "friends" thought. It's MY FUCKING SIDE OF THE STORY. I can't believe anyone would believe I'd make it up and put myself through all this shit. 16 years of shit. 16 years of carrying it with me, of trying to talk about the anger, of trying to even understand guilt, shame, and forgiveness for myself in the whole process.

Thanks for reading.

The Rape

I haven't told the whole story of my rape for many years. Since people blamed me right after it happened, I felt that somewhere in my story is the part where people will know it was my fault. My friends blamed me, my parents didn't know what to do so, they didn't really talk about it and have never brought it up since, and the police told me that I didn't have a case since I actually regretted sex and was not raped. When I told people about it who didn't know me at the time it happened, they would say they wanted to find him and beat the shit out of him. I was the hurt one in front of them. He was the one living his life and acting as if nothing was wrong. 
 I also didn't want to admit that I was raped. I told people that I had known this guy for a year and sex just happened. I've been managing with a lot of feelings, including the ones I felt ashamed about-- like that I had a traumatic bond with him and I hoped he'd get better or want a relationship one day.
Today, in talking to my therapist, she pointed out that no one has blamed me in my adulthood for what happened. It's true but not one person in my life currently knows the whole story. Some know his side. Some know that it happened but don't know when or what. I feel a bit safer now in telling my story.
So, here goes.

I was thirteen years old. It was August 31, 1997. My dad was moving out to move into a house with his girlfriend and I went out for a walk. I had told my friend to meet me at the bowling alley at a certain time on this day. I walked around my neighborhood before I walked over to the bowling alley. I didn't see my friend at the bowling alley but a guy who worked there named Kirk came over to talk to me. We talked for a little bit. He brought up that he had a large dick because he was Italian. He touched my lips and said, "You'd fit." He asked me for a blow job and I told him no. He then went outside for a cigarette and I went out with him because I didn't have anything better to do. He pointed out to me where his car was. He asked me if I wanted to see it. I went along. It might have been cool and I eventually wanted to buy a "hippie" van. He opened up the back to show he had taken out the middle seat. I think he asked again if I'd give him a blow job and I said no. He said he was going to drive his van to the parking underneath the bowling alley. I got in the back of the van to drive there and was really nervous. He sat in the back seat with me. I think I put my mouth on his penis but I was really uninterested. He asked me if I wanted to have sex. I was scared to say no so I tried to make up the excuse that he didn't have condoms. He brought out the box of condoms. I thought it was really gross that he had that many condoms. He put one on but only unzipped his pants-- didn't take off any of his clothes. I was really nervous and disgusted. I really didn't want it but didn't know how to get out of the situation. He told me that he had to loosen me up so, he fingered me so that it wouldn't hurt to have sex. Even the fingering hurt though. I don't remember much of what happened next except that I had a bruise on my back and he asked me to go through a different door to go back inside the bowling alley.


I haven't seen it written out in a long time, if ever. It still seems like he was just a disgusting bastard who was manipulating a 13 year old girl to have sex. The story that it seemed my "friends" had for the situation was that I was this horny 13 year old girl who wanted sex no matter what and I just begged this guy to have sex. I didn't. I was making jokes the same as my older friends were. I feel like I was just a typical curious kid and that my curiosity and normal development was taken away by some older guy and then the craziness of everyone else convinced me I might be crazy too.

I don't know how many times I've repeated this same pattern of getting myself into a situation where I didn't want to have sex but didn't know how to get out of it. I am also trying to figure out healthy sexual attitudes because I don't know how to manage with a pout-y, mopey or angry man when I am simply not in the mood, which has been a majority of the case recently. I go to work, sometimes do something fun, and go home. Most of the time, I just want to read or write by myself.

In the blame I've had for myself in the last many years, I've blamed myself for the death of Princess Diana too. She might not have died if I wasn't getting raped.

I knew some girls from my high school who eventually worked at the bowling alley. I thought Kirk would try to take advantage. There's this weird part of me that wishes he wouldn't have but knowing him, he probably would have and they would have gone willingly to have sex with him. I wish he would have thought of me in some way and decided that he didn't want to have sex with these girls in particular.

The time I saw him after I asked him to leave my house, he told me that I shouldn't have been mad because he was only in town for a short time. I didn't care about any of that. He was flirting with some girls at my house and I wanted him to get the fuck out. How dare he feel like he had any reason to be there or any right! I remember trembling and trying not to because he was in my house. My brother wanted me to just get used to it. Kirk wanted to just let us be cool. I made him think that but I was never "cool" with him and was fearful and angry every time he came back or came to visit. I was glad the day that my brother was talking about seeing Kirk at a party, all dressed out to the max as someone from the 70's and that he was "gay." I thought that maybe Kirk said something or did something so that my brother was angry at him too--- like maybe for once someone was on my side.

It's really hard to keep it together as I've been working in The Rape Recovery Handbook. But I really enjoy the book. I'm listening to some very peaceful music and allowing myself to feel and to cry. I really need to forgive myself for a lot of things.
I like that the author made the connection to how similar it is to go to the dentist or gyno as it is to be raped. You really feel like you have no options and some man is going to do what he feels is necessary for you. I left a dentist one time because he had bad bedside manner and was trying to force a bite block in my mouth. It was too big for my mouth. He was so frustrated. And when I left, the car would die every time it stopped at a light so I was again, trapped. Luckily, it was not with a man. I have yet to go to the dentist regularly for cleanings and all. I have been thinking of going for the past three years. Maybe some day soon I'll find the dentist with a very gentle bedside manner so I will feel safe and comfortable.

I think that's all I can handle for now. I'll try to update more as I go through this book and start to clear out the wound that was given to me by someone else's sin/issue many years ago. I'm officially giving the sin back and he can take care of it.