I wrote this in one of my communities on Sunday. I've decided to put it in my personal journal as well now.

I hadn't cut since December 9, 2004. 254 days. But that is basically gone now. I hadn't been taking my meds consistently. I thought maybe I could do without them. But I fell into a depressive episode. I started taking them again last week and I've started to feel a lot better already. But... Last night I just lost it. The last few times I've been to the doctor I've gone through the cupboards and swiped those little surgical razors that go in a scalpal(sic?). At first I just did three tiny little scratches on my leg. The didn't even bleed. And I was like, "well, it doesn't really count, it's not like I really cut myself up." I decided to do one real cut. ( Could be triggering. )

I hate myself right now. But who am I kidding. I have been picking my skin for weeks now. Every tiny scratch I picked at until it was bigger, never letting it heal, making it bleed. I had a tiny pimple next to my nose that I scratched off. It's now almost a half inch in diameter of raw skin. I just kept picking and picking at it, making it bleed, making it hurt. A tiny ingrown hair on my arm has turned into a seriously painful scabby bump from me picking at it for weeks. I think I have caused permanent nerve damage.

I'm scared of myself. And now that I don't have so much time under my belt of not cutting, why shouldn't I just start doing it again? I have nothing.

I met Maurice when we were 14 years old. I thought he was so sweet and wonderful. He and I were the same height at the time, a little over 5 feet. Now he's over 6 feet tall, I'm still just over 5 feet, and sometimes I can't help but see that sweet 14 year old boy when I think of him instead of seeing the 21 year old man who raped me while I slept. It's probably just easier for my brain that way.

I stayed with Eric for nearly two years. We slept together two months into those two years and it was my first time. I knew within a month of starting sleeping with him that something was wrong with the situation. Eric had a messed up view of what sex was/should be. I was supposed to be his virginal girlfriend at the same time that I was his private whore. Private whore. I know that's an oxymoron, which is why it was impossible for me to live up to his expectations and why I hated the way he treated me.

I went into denial so quickly after the rape that I successfully forgot about a lot of it. I knew what happened, I remembered the events, but I only recently had certain details come back to me. I read my journal from the time and remembered even more.
( Just in case you don't want to read, it's graphic. )

Fuck you Maurice. I would never wish anything bad on you, because that would lower me to your level. Let me just say that I hope that everyone knows what you've done, what kind of man you really are. I hope that you never get the chance to touch another woman again (though I know the chances of that are slim). Fuck you.

I wish that Cutter could understand this one thing. This one important thing.

( irrationality )

It all just makes me doubt myself and I can't do that right now. I'm trying to learn how to cope with these issues and feeling invalidated makes me want to hide it all again like I did for the last year.

Things I did for you that you didn't deserve:

Sleeping with my phone next to my bed so I could wake up when you called me at 3am.

Buying (and sending you) everything you asked for and tons of things you didn't ask for that I thought you might just want.

Waiting for you when you left for war even though you'd raped me.

Trusting you.

Writing you several letters a week and e-mails everyday, even though you never wrote back.

Driving the 200 miles to Fort Lewis and back more times than I can count just to be able to see you for an hour or two.

Skipping class and work to spend time with you.

Paying to spend a night alone with you and then getting up at 4am to take you to base before the mess hall closed.

Supporting you through everything despite you treating me so incredibly badly.

Doing everything that anyone could ever ask of me and more because you had to go to war and I felt sorry for you.


I hate you for what you've done to me. I hate you because you actually convinced me for a long time that I would never get better than you, that you were my last chance, that you didn't rape me, that you loved me. I thought it would be hard to see you and hard not too. After you coming back and not even bothering to call (even though just the thought of your number on my called ID gives me an anxiety attack), I'm remarkably ok with NEVER seeing you again. You forever changed my life, and I hate that you have that much control over me. I hate you so much right now and I wish I didn't feel anything for you at all.

After I wrote my last post about seeing the soldier on campus, I had a counseling appointment.  Good timing.  I will be seeing my old psychologist starting this next week.  I have been talking to this other guy in the mean time and while he listens to me and such, I have to say I don't like him as much as Dr. Geil.  Maybe that's just because I've seen Dr. Geil for a couple of years now and this guy is new.

At the end of my appointment he took me down to the CASAS center (basically a rape crisis center on campus) and I met the coordinator there, Sara.  I am seeing her this Tuesday to talk.

I don't know what to say.  I still have a hard time saying "He raped me."  I can write it now...I guess that's progress.

CASAS does police reporting, they can help me file the incident report or file charges if I want...   I don't know if I should file charges or not.  I don't think I'm strong enough for that.  I was in denial for so long and I'm still not very confident.  Cutter says I'm hyper-sensitive about it the other day after he asked me "Why are you still upset about it?" and I got a little upset and said I didn't feel like he was being supportive.  I know he isn't questioning me, he was trying to ask how I was feeling after all this time, what was hardest for me to get over, but it didn't feel that way.

I have a hard time believing me sometimes.  How could I expect anyone else to?  I am shocked by my own reactions, I never would have thought I would go into such hardcore denial.  I literally insisted that it just wasn't rape.  It just was not rape.  The few close friends I told kept telling me it was, truly, I knew it was rape.  But I couldn't call it that.  I just couldn't do it...  I pretended it didn't happen until just these last few months.

We didn't break up after he did it.  Instead, I slept with him the next time he 'made a move' on me.  Why?  This is going to sound stupid, but that way at least I was in control of the situation- you can't take what you're already being given...

And as ridiculous as this may sound, part of me is kind of peeved that he hasn't even so much as called me since he got back.  Let me explain- I don't want to talk to him.  I don't know what I would do if I heard his voice.  But I gave him everything anyone could have asked of me and more, what I didn't want to give he took anyway, the least he could do is care about me just the tiniest little bit.  Fuck- I should know he doesn't care about me even the tiniest little bit.  He raped me.

I hate how confused this is making me.

...and apparently he had a bit of a panic attack thinking that I for some reason might think we were still together.  (Well, if you've read my lj, you know I'm with Cutter and definitely don't think I'm with someone else!)  His little brother called me the other night upset because he just found out we had broken up and he apparently never told his family.  So he decided to just make sure I knew and sent me a re-break up e-mail.

It's always wonderful to open an e-mail to find a litany of all the reasons you aren't worth being with.  Highlight of my day, actually.

Ok, I know we've been broken up for a little while, but it still kinda sucks to hear it all over again.

I shouldn't have been so naive to think that someone would want me for the long haul.  I mean, everyone has issues but, well, I think I'm pretty fucked up.  I mean, some people just have a fear of commitment, I have a huge scar on my leg from cutting myself.

Cutter likes my scar.  He says it gives character.  And he understands about having something to remember that time in your life...

Why am I so naive?  To think that I actually was worth that kind of trouble...what a joke.  The thing is that I wasn't really upset when we broke up.  I mean, I gave him the easy way out and he took it.  I wouldn't have given him the easy way out if I didn't want him to take it.  But at the same time it bites to be rejected, even if I rejected him first.  It would be easier if I were over what happened when we first started dating...

I can't say I am totally to term with this, but everyone I've talked to says he raped me.

We were fooling around, he tried to have sex with me and I flipped (totally flipped as in crying and shaking and completely freaking out).  I said no, and he stopped.  We went to sleep.  Next thing I know, I wake up to him having sex with me while I was sleeping.  I flipped again and told him to stop and he did.  It happened one more time...but when I told him to stop he didn't right away- he stopped when I started sobbing and saying 'please, don't'.

If anyone else told me that story I would say it was rape...   I have difficultly calling it that- I just remember how I felt and how upset I was.

God I sure know how to pick 'em, don't I?