My Broken Past
When I was ten years old, I went to a bluegrass music festival with my parents. I met a guy that was sixteen, and as I was a horny little kid, as I always was for some reason, I snuck into the night with him the night before the last day of the festival, to a park, and he forced himself on me.
I can't say that I remember the incident explicitly, I just remember bleeding and thinking that I was pregnant. The only person I told about this incident until two years ago was my childhood best friend. She never thought of me in the same way, and we slowly drifted apart.
Weeks later, I didn't know what to think of anything anymore, as I believed that I was a ten-year-old who was going to have the baby of a white boy who thought he was the greatest black gangster ever, who had a mother that he cussed out on a regular basis -- his mom also returned the words.
This was the root of my depression. During that Summer, I took a vacation in our family RV, and while the family was out and about, I took a bottle of Ibuprofen, Advil -- anything I could find. When nothing happened, I claimed that I felt flu-ish to my family, and they believed me.
That was the root of my disgust towards my family. Years later, I was drinking a bottle of wine alone at home (my siblings had all moved out by this time), and got drunk enough to decide that I wanted to take my antidepressants, as well as a bottle of Benadryl. My parents got home late that night, almost too late, it turned out. They found me half-naked, playing music that was too loud even for me, and I was cutting all of my hair off. My mom didn't really have any idea what to do, or any idea what I had done. My dad did. He knew he needed to get me to the hospital, and fast. My family has never gotten to know me -- with the exception of my mom. She is the greatest mom ever. She has never left my side, and never given up on me.
After that night, I stayed at the hospital for a couple days, and my dad "figured" that I did this "stunt" to piss him off; to spite him. I was angry with him for saving my life for a long time. To this day he thinks I did it to spite him. He doens't realize that it was a cry for help.
Because of all this, my mom tells me, she realized that my dad was not the person she thought he was, and she decided that the time had come for her to stand up for herself and not let my dad rule her life. She has been a completely different person ever since.
I lived a pretty crazy life after that incident, and didn't really care for myself the way I should have. I slept with anyone I felt like sleeping with, with or without protection; I didn't care. Luckily, I never got any diseases or anything. I am, indeed, a lucky person.
At the end of that crazy summer, one of my "friends" gave me her phone, because she needed to go do something. The guy she was talking to was her current fling, and my future Fiancee. I talked to him for hours that night, and we talked every night for a month until we met in person. When we met, we just held each other.
At the time that we first met, he had considered ending his life, as well. The start of his depression or decline was when his mom left his father and him when he was seven. She didn't tell his dad before she left, she told him. She also added that the reason she was leaving was that she needed to find herself, and that she didn't see herself with his father or with him.
From that he discovered a hatred for women like his mother. In fact, he believed all women to be like his mother. He tells me that changed when I came along. But he still sees all other women to be scum. All because of one person.
I believe he saved my life, because if it hadn't been for him, I would've kept up what I was doing, and I would've killed myself eventually, or at least gotten to the point of wanting to end it. He salvaged what was left of me, and eventually, I got RACHEL back.
When we found each other, we were at the ends of our ropes. For a while I honestly didn't have any hopes or dreams. Now, I look forward to starting a family, and living with Fiancee until we are rickety and old.
I suppose I think back on these things to remind myself where I have been, so that I can keep my focus on where I am going, and not lose my footing like I did before. And I think back on it so that when I am a little sad or depressed about not being exactly where I want to be yet, I can remember how far I have actually come.
I can't say that I remember the incident explicitly, I just remember bleeding and thinking that I was pregnant. The only person I told about this incident until two years ago was my childhood best friend. She never thought of me in the same way, and we slowly drifted apart.
Weeks later, I didn't know what to think of anything anymore, as I believed that I was a ten-year-old who was going to have the baby of a white boy who thought he was the greatest black gangster ever, who had a mother that he cussed out on a regular basis -- his mom also returned the words.
This was the root of my depression. During that Summer, I took a vacation in our family RV, and while the family was out and about, I took a bottle of Ibuprofen, Advil -- anything I could find. When nothing happened, I claimed that I felt flu-ish to my family, and they believed me.
That was the root of my disgust towards my family. Years later, I was drinking a bottle of wine alone at home (my siblings had all moved out by this time), and got drunk enough to decide that I wanted to take my antidepressants, as well as a bottle of Benadryl. My parents got home late that night, almost too late, it turned out. They found me half-naked, playing music that was too loud even for me, and I was cutting all of my hair off. My mom didn't really have any idea what to do, or any idea what I had done. My dad did. He knew he needed to get me to the hospital, and fast. My family has never gotten to know me -- with the exception of my mom. She is the greatest mom ever. She has never left my side, and never given up on me.
After that night, I stayed at the hospital for a couple days, and my dad "figured" that I did this "stunt" to piss him off; to spite him. I was angry with him for saving my life for a long time. To this day he thinks I did it to spite him. He doens't realize that it was a cry for help.
Because of all this, my mom tells me, she realized that my dad was not the person she thought he was, and she decided that the time had come for her to stand up for herself and not let my dad rule her life. She has been a completely different person ever since.
I lived a pretty crazy life after that incident, and didn't really care for myself the way I should have. I slept with anyone I felt like sleeping with, with or without protection; I didn't care. Luckily, I never got any diseases or anything. I am, indeed, a lucky person.
At the end of that crazy summer, one of my "friends" gave me her phone, because she needed to go do something. The guy she was talking to was her current fling, and my future Fiancee. I talked to him for hours that night, and we talked every night for a month until we met in person. When we met, we just held each other.
At the time that we first met, he had considered ending his life, as well. The start of his depression or decline was when his mom left his father and him when he was seven. She didn't tell his dad before she left, she told him. She also added that the reason she was leaving was that she needed to find herself, and that she didn't see herself with his father or with him.
From that he discovered a hatred for women like his mother. In fact, he believed all women to be like his mother. He tells me that changed when I came along. But he still sees all other women to be scum. All because of one person.
I believe he saved my life, because if it hadn't been for him, I would've kept up what I was doing, and I would've killed myself eventually, or at least gotten to the point of wanting to end it. He salvaged what was left of me, and eventually, I got RACHEL back.
When we found each other, we were at the ends of our ropes. For a while I honestly didn't have any hopes or dreams. Now, I look forward to starting a family, and living with Fiancee until we are rickety and old.
I suppose I think back on these things to remind myself where I have been, so that I can keep my focus on where I am going, and not lose my footing like I did before. And I think back on it so that when I am a little sad or depressed about not being exactly where I want to be yet, I can remember how far I have actually come.
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