Find better matches with our advanced matching system
22 / F / Straight / Single
Her journal posts
May 17, 2009
Today I watched a movie on Lifetime called Love Sick. It was about a woman who had been sexually abused by her father in her childhood, turning her into a sex/love addict. She felt empty without the sex - like no one could see her and like she was nothing without it.
When a situation was presented and the woman was given the opportunity to have sex while in a addiction clinic, she accepted the opportunity. However, once there, all she saw was her father abusing her... and she said no.
At the end, like most Lifetime movies that aren't based on Nora Roberts books, there were statistics on sexual abuse.
1 out of 4 women in America will be sexually abused before their 18th birthday. This makes me think of my three best friends. Sam, Ashley, Coty. I'm the fourth. Bree - The statistic.
I've seen myself as a statistic since I was twelve years old. A statistic first for child molestation, then rape, then having abusive boyfriends, then another abusive stepfather, then underage sex, drinking, drug use, depression, self-mutilation. I've never been fair to myself and I've never given myself enough credit. I used to blame myself for everything I did because I wasn't able to see the link between what was done to me and what I was doing to myself.
Abuse is rampant in my life, whether it was self-inflicted or not. A few months ago, I decided to stop it all. It's not fair to others and it's definitely not fair to myself to have to live with the constant worry of being abused again and for me to constantly be down about it. It's happened and it may happen again, and I have to be ready to accept that it has happened and prevent anything I don't want to happen from happening.
I don't know if this makes sense or if anyone will read it, but I believe words can set me free little by little, and I feel better for having written this.
May 16, 2009
Your innocence and your humble nature combined with your incredible intellect, charm, and thoughtfulness makes people fall head over heels for you, but you refuse to reciprocate the feeling because you don't find yourself worthy and you don't want to get hurt. Do you realize how ridiculous this is? You're surrounded by amazing people who think the world of you but you will not let yourself see it or feel anything for them. You're breaking their hearts because you think yours won't heal.
All wounds heal, but you have to allow yourself to accept that you cannot hold on to the past forever.
May 13, 2009
However, a small part of me knows I'll be nostalgic for the years I've spent here, as I have never spent more that two years in one school district and I have spent six here, which has actually given me the chance to sort of grow up with my peers.
I've seen their boyfriends, their heartbreaks. I've been there through deaths in their family, through new baby sisters and brothers and, in some cases, the births of their own children. I've been the one to lean on and talk to, the one to help and give advice. I know their secrets and their deepest wishes. I know these people better than I know even myself.
In a few short months I'll be thrust into an environment I know I'll be uncomfortable in for quite a while. Living on my own, going to college, and trying to find my way around a new city when I just barely figured out how to get around my own tiny town [anyone know of a directionally challenged support group?]. The thought is terrifying, and it will bring back memories of the ease with which life flows now.
This all, however, will be extremely beneficial to me in the future, I know. It's just kind of hard to see that now and not be terrified of it. I guess all I can do is hope for the best and pray I learn how to read a map.
Over and out,