brokentwentysomething

[brokentwentysomething]

An open letter to my rapist (conclusion)

It’s December 2017 and I’ve just met someone who makes my heart skip a literal beat. We had only a few days together before he left to visit family back home but we kept in touch the whole 2 weeks. Before he left, I spent a few hours of an evening with him at his flat. I never once felt in danger. We were laying together, cuddling, when J suddenly caught me off guard and asked me how I lost my virginity. I told him technically it was at 15, with my first boyfriend because I don’t count the first time I had sex. Naturally he had asked why I didn’t count it. My voice began to shake and soon after it broke. I cried in J’s arms while he held me tight. I tried to leave, telling him I wasn’t worth this. I was in fact worthless and dirty. I told him in brief what happened and he just held me tighter and wiped away my tears. He didn’t leave me or think I was dirty. We talked every day that he was away, the whole 2 weeks over Christmas and New Years. When he came back in January, he soon asked me to be his girlfriend. J has accepted all of my flaws and all of my past.

He has stood by me always, wiped every tear, cured any sickness, kissed away the pain, and made me thrive. He’s the wind beneath my wings and he knows this.

He truly is my rock and as cliché as it may be, I’m not sure where I’d be without him. My life would certainly be very dull indeed.

It’s “only been 6 months” but I love him more than anything.

[brokentwentysomething]

An open letter to my rapist (cont.)

I didn’t tell another soul about what happened for years.

Some might think the next statement is just being over dramatic but you really did ruin my life. You stripped me bare in more ways than one. I was just a shell of a person after what you done to me. I was miserable and depressed. I didn’t want to move from my own bed. I couldn’t tell anyone because I would be to blame and no one would believe me. I had no evidence. I was irretrievably broken... all because of you.

You’d pop up on my ‘memories’ on Facebook of things you’d posted to my wall around the time it happened. It made my stomach churn, seeing your face and reading your name. Fast forward to 10th July 2018. I contacted you on Facebook. I wanted answers. I had enough of hiding and being victim. I confronted you and you were immediately hostile. You showed signs with your words that you knew exactly what you had done to me and you know damn well it was rape. After a short conversation, you blocked me. I wasn’t angry. I was relieved.

All you done in those moments was prove your guilt. You know as a matter of fact that you raped me. You know you raped a minor while you were an adult. While I never wish anything bad happen to you or your family, I do hope the guilt chases you for the rest of your days.

I am the one who is free now. I am not a victim. I am a survivor and I have more strength in me now than I ever did before. You’re kindling to my engulfing fire.

I AM FREE.

[brokentwentysomething]

An open letter to my rapist (cont.)

You said if I done what you told me to do then you wouldn’t tell anyone. And if I told anyone, my life as I knew it would be over. You would personally make sure that it was.

I was a child being overpowered by a man. They thought alone haunted me. I felt worthless, dirty, used... and a slut for something I didn’t consent to. My pleas to stop fell on deaf ears. It wasn’t what you wanted to hear so you continued and you took my virginity.

I didn’t tell a single soul for quite a while. Then I broke down and confided in my best friend and my boyfriend at the time of events. Again, I didn’t have a choice because YOU had already got to them and the whole of our online community of friends. You made a huge public post about it. You told everyone that I begged and pleaded you to fuck me. In reality the only thing I begged you to do was stop.

I didn’t deserve the chaos that ensued because of your actions. Despite you already having a questionable reputation amongst us, it was me that lost all my friends and said boyfriend. No one believed me. I was outted from the community.

You damaged me sexually, physically, mentally and emotionally. You turned my friends and boyfriend against me. I had no one. I was completely isolated. After all, that’s exactly what you wanted to happen right?

At home it was my safe and happy place due to being bullied at high school 5 days a week and for about 7.5h a day. But you destroyed that too because home was where I could talk to my friends online and forget about the bad day I just had. I had no more escapes. You trapped me inside myself.

[brokentwentysomething]

An open letter to my rapist

I was barely into my teens when you traveled 416 miles (7h 30m) to see me.

I was in a ‘relationship’ with someone else. I say ‘relationship’ because it was very long distance (Scotland — USA) and we were very young. Nonetheless, everyone in our online community, which you were part of, knew about me and P. We were a golden couple, envied by most.

I was around 13–15 and in high school. All I know for sure is it happened when I was around that age, late 2000s, and during the October school holidays.

You came to my school. You gave me two options. I either came with you or we went to my house. I wasn’t having you in my house and I couldn’t escape anywhere else. I remember looking around the school grounds, desperate for help.

I wish I never told you my school, or the city I stayed in. I wish I turned around to hide in school. I wish I lied to you and told you I had detention or I had to rush home. I wish I had done anything else than go with you and meet up with you during that time.

But I will not be to blame. You were around at least 17–19 years old. You knew what you were doing. You knew it was rape. You knew I couldn’t give informed consent. You knew the second I said no that it was rape.

You raped me.

I couldn’t fight you. I was a child, you were an adult. You threatened my life. You threatened my family and friends. You threatened my relationship with my boyfriend at the time. I had very little choice.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. It was completely suffocating and you knew the entire time what you were doing to me. I can’t even bare to go past the place where you raped me.

[brokentwentysomething]

Nightmare #2 & 3

These two have the same overarching theme.

The location didn’t look familiar so I can only assume, again, that we were in our own flat.

We’d had some sort of huge argument. I was distraught and in tears. My whole world was just crumbling down around me. My vision was so blurred because of the tears streaming down my raw face.

J, my boyfriend, was angry. He was shouting at me and I was petrified. Not because I thought he’d raise his hands to me. Simply put I was petrified because it seemed inevitable that our relationship was over. He’d called me nasty names. He was completely furious. He said we were over for good. He didn’t want to see me anymore. He was heading out and his last parting words to me were that I’d better be gone by the time he got back.

While it may have only been a nightmare, and completely unreal at this moment in time, I awoke feeling beyond physically hurt. I was so disorientated and distressed.

Naturally, I had told him everything about the dream/nightmare. He comforted me as always and reassured me that he could never ever raise his voice to me — no matter how angry he may be. Instead; he’d take time to himself to chill out/relax and then come back so we can figure out any problems. We’ve always figured out all and any problems no matter how big or small. It’s one of our many rules.

[brokentwentysomething]

Nightmare #1

So my first proper nightmare involving my boyfriend J was a couple of months or so ago.

We don’t currently live together but the nightmare took place in a flat of our own and I could tell you the exact layout pretty much of said flat. Anyways...

We were in our own flat on what must’ve been a weekend. He was in the kitchen in his shorts, making us both breakfast. He’d left me sleeping in the bedroom, but I didn’t sleep for much longer.

I woke up with agonising pain. There was blood all over our fresh bed sheets and it was coming from between my legs.

I got up from bed and stumbled through to the open kitchen and living room. All the while screaming out for J. He immediately stopped what he was doing and rushed over by my side. I was weak and couldn’t stand anymore. I collapsed to the ground and was gradually getting paler with my breath quickening in a state of panic.

I managed to tell him I think it might be a miscarriage. The nightmare ended with me passed out on the living room floor, blood pooling and him phoning an ambulance.

I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and physically panicked. It all felt so real. The look on his face and the tears that rolled down them were all too real.

My dreams and nightmares are usually vivid. I remember them, I remember all the details. Some things just stay with you more than most and I am terrified that these ones will become true.

[brokentwentysomething]

Lately I’ve been having quite a few nightmares/unpleasant dreams and during most of which my boyfriend J appears.

I’ve talked to him and he just tells me that it’s good “it’s only a dream”.

Which I mean, he’s not wrong. It is good it’s just a dream but aren’t dreams supposed to be a window into your soul and all that? It’s your deepest darkest and inner most thoughts coming into the light and making themselves known.

Now that scares me.

The things that happen in these ‘dreams’, I don’t ever want to happen. But I’d say they are mine and J’s biggest fears in life...

[brokentwentysomething]

The reason behind my October holiday

I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned before, but I’ll say it again. During the October school holidays (in Edinburgh, Scotland) 10+ years ago, someone came up from London, England and done the unspeakable to me. I was just 12 years old. I had asked my boyfriend if this year in October we could both take a week off work and do something, anything. I didn’t care what we done just as long as we didn’t go to London. He accepted my offer with no hesitation. We recently just booked our holiday abroad, our first one abroad together. I’m actually really excited but this holiday really only started out as a reason to cover up me feeling shitty in October and dreading it for the past 12 years. I have no idea how this holiday will go or if it will be good or bad, who knows.

[brokentwentysomething]

No one reads my posts so I don’t really have anyone to say I’m sorry to that I’ve not posted in a long while.

Things are good for the most part with my boyfriend, J. Although there has been its fair share of rocky moments already. We’ve booked our first holiday abroad together, roll on October. In just 3 weeks I’ll be going to where he his from and meeting his friends and family. I’m equally excited and nervous as Hell to be going.

Things are okay on the job front too I suppose. I’m currently off sick this week with a viral chest infection and it sucks. I’m so mad. I feel like I’m just letting everyone down because I know how buy and crazy it is right now at work.

That about sums it up for this post I guess. I’m not sure what to talk about anymore. I have so much going on in my head and it’s been such a rollercoaster of a time. I just overthink about things a lot and right now everything is kind of at an ease so I’m not sure I want to talk about them just to bring them back up....

[brokentwentysomething]

It’s completely irrational to think like this but I feel like I don’t quite belong anywhere.

I literally just started a new job and I’m being trained in another dept rather than the one I’m gonna be based in. But there’s no staff room and I have no uniform and it just feels like I don’t belong in either place.

I don’t belong in my old job. I don’t belong where I am being trained now. I just hope I’ll belong when I get to the dept I’m supposed to be in.

What if this is all a just a huge mistake? Maybe I should’ve stayed where I was. A huge driving factor was that this new job is full time, so ya know bigger wages. Which means I can do so much stuff and have so much more freedom. Me and my new man J have big plans for our future. Ones that just can’t be achieved with me working part time — in my opinion anyway.

[brokentwentysomething]

It’s suffocating sometimes. I’m 24 and I still live at home with both of my parents. My older brother and sister-in-law (SIL) have also recently moved in due to issues with their house. I’ve recently met a man who is beyond perfect for me. The way he treats me is unreal. I could gush about him for a lifetime, but this pot isn’t really about him.

It’s that as a 24 year old woman, I feel like I have all these restrictions as to what I can and can’t do. I can’t be out late. I’m an inconsiderate and selfish person if I’m out late and wake anyone up. I’m going out this weekend for a friends birthday, said man is coming with me. I’m told not to be out late or to make a sound when I come in.

It’s suffocating.

It feels like I can’t live.

I didn’t face so much issue when I was 18 and out almost every time. Apparently the older you get, the less freedom you have.

[brokentwentysomething]

Me recently:

[brokentwentysomething]

I can't do anything right, ever. Clearly breathing is a problem too.

[brokentwentysomething]

I don’t think I could ever go back to a life of self harm, or worse. But sometimes things get so damn hard. Sometimes I think I can’t cope. There’s too much going on in my life sometimes that I don’t know which way is up.

My problems are considered trivial. But to me, that doesn’t mean that they don’t still matter. As it’s been pointed out to me, there are people who are much more worse off. I should be grateful for what I have in life. I’m aware that people have a worse life than me, I can’t deny that. Just like there’s plenty people who lead far better lives than my own. But that doesn’t mean that my problems are insignificant. They matter to me. My emotions, thoughts, and everything else are perfectly valid. My problems exist just as much as anyone else’s do. 

My Grandad has dementia.

My Nana can’t cope with it but refuses to ask or seek help.

My Mum isn’t coping with it all. She also in general stresses and gets irritated very easily about things. She recently was worried (in a state of stress and being annoyed by trying to do too much at once that she brought on herself for making dinner. She tries to go 1000 miles an hour) that she might actually have dementia herself.

I’m worried about my grandparents, my parents, my brother & sister-in-law.

I’m worried I’m not good at my job.

I’m worried about what’s going to happen to my Grandad and my family when this horrible disease gets inevitably worse. I used to work in a care home, I know what’s going to happen.

I have like three friends “in real life”. But I’ve not seen any of them in months. I understand life happens and we all get busy but with those three and more of my friends from online (who are actually totally fucking ace & I like to think we’re all very close, btw), I’ve also somehow never felt more alone and isolated. 

I’m worried about if I’ll ever take up my studies with the distance learning university this year. I feel like there’s too much going on to be able to focus at all, let alone on Psychology.

I contemplated going to an actual campus university to study, and the idea was shot down. 

I want to stay close to my family because it feels like they’re all I’ve got. But at the same time, I want to go travel and see the world. I want to go have experiences and be like other people who visit a whole bunch of countries and have an amazing time. Realistically, unless I was with someone this is never going to happen. 

Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if I simply wasn’t here. Sometimes I think that everyone would be perfectly okay if I ever disappeared, or just didn’t wake up. But I want to wake up every day. I want to keep living. But sometimes I feel invisible, like it wouldn’t even mattered.

TLDR; Sometimes. Worried. What if. Stressed. Work. University. Dementia. Family. Friends. Invisible. Isolation. Alone. Hermit. Sad. Lonely.

[brokentwentysomething]

I feel so invisible sometimes.

[brokentwentysomething]

I can’t stress this enough. I’ve been there. I’ve been there more than once and it was like I was suffocating. Everything was just completely and utterly black. It was like standing on the edge of a wall. There were only two options. Jump forward and into the abyss. Or trust in myself and take a step back in the hopes there’s solid ground behind + beneath me and that there’ll be light somewhere. At times it was more like I was sitting on the wall with a leg in both worlds/options, and I’d sway slowly between to two. 

I’ve never actively tried to take my own life. I’ve thought about it. Dying. I did, however, self harm. That was a vicious cycle in itself but it felt the right thing to do at the time. I’ve now been��‘clean’ for about 8 years (of self harm).

Thoughts like those above never really entirely leave you. They just don’t became as prominent, if you’re lucky. If you’re having thoughts about suicide, depression or self harm MESSAGE ME. I’ll listen. I’ll not judge. I’ll give you as much help as I can.

[brokentwentysomething]

Grandparents, again

Some nurse (no disrespect to nurses) thinks my Grandad has more of a degenerative memory loss thing rather than actual dementia. I’m no diagnostic expert but I did work with those with different kinds of dementia and all at different stages for a year. Sure it’s not much experience, maybe, but let me tell you that you sure do learn a hell of a lot when working in a care home. 

He has dementia. I feel so selfish but I am not ready for any of what is to come. He’s had time where he’s forgot who I am, when my parents married, when he was married, & when he was born. My Nana doesn’t get much rest because she stays up most of the night making sure he doesn’t do something he shouldn’t. He’s tried to leave their house before. He gets confused so much sometimes. It terrifies me. Partly because I know exactly what’s happening. Also because I’m full of what if’s. 

I feel like so many people are burying their heads about what’s going on. My Nana thinks that there’s plenty time for everything and the reality is that there’s potentially very little time to organise things. 

My Nana prefers to keep everything private and I understand that but I’m not even sure that his brother knows what’s going on.

 I got a telling off from my parents and my Nana about telling my cousin (my grandad’s brother’s granddaughter - you following?) about when he fell going up 8 flights of stairs and had to be taken to a minor injuries unit at a hospital and get stitches. His brother lives in the same country but miles away. He has every right to know what’s going on.

And you know, at the end of the day, when the dementia comes for him in its entirety (which it unfortunately and inevitably will) his brother is the one he will remember. His brother is the one he wall call for most of the time. And by the end of it all, his last words and thoughts will be of his parents and brother.

I watched as people lost their minds, memories, speech, ability to walk, ability to look after themselves and so much more. I watched as relatives rarely visited. I was there when the people I cared for had no one else. I’ve seen relatives abandon their own parents. I can, to an extent, understand why some relatives aren’t able to cope with seeing them like that because I’m getting that way too. But even if he never knows who I am again, I know who he is. I love him. He loves me. I’ll tell my future kids all about him. He won’t be forgotten, not ever.