rhi-reads-and-writes

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I long for Autumn

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I started playing Kingdom Come Deliverance 2 today and apparently also lost all my brain cells before I turned the Xbox on.

I was walking around trying to talk to people but it kept saying "Rob."

So I kept spinning around like who tf is Rob? Where the fuck is Rob?

Then the penny dropped.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/62843035/chapters/161349271

Chapter 4 of my Elliott fic

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Chapter 2 :0

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I'm doing this again

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I made this post a few months after I was raped. I had to uninstall Tumblr and just got it back, but accidentally logged into my old account first. I scrolled through and had the breath knocked out of me. Man this made me so sad. I want to give 16 year old me a hug.

If only she knew that in 6 years time she'd tell her parents, that she'd write a poetry book about it, and that the PTSD she didn't know she was dealing with would get treated.

I remember sixth form.

I was the most depresses I'd ever been, and learning what happened to me was in fact rape, was so fucking hard. But I'm proud of her.

Fuck you "Bradley"

Go fuck yourself Tyler.

Rape

At first , I didn’t know it was rape. I was his girlfriend, and so I thought I had to. I was drunk and 16 but because I loved him, I thought it was fine.

But then I told my friends and they told me that it wasn’t okay.

The thing with my ex, we’ll call him Bradley, is that he always wanted to do things. And I didn’t. I would roll over if he tried, I told him I was exhausted - and that wasn’t a lie. I was always tired. (In fact yesterday I had blood tests to see if my tiredness is abnormal - and this is months later) He didn’t like that. He thought I was selfish and always called me out on it. “Ruby, you don’t hug me anymore, you don’t do stuff with me. We spent the weekend together alone for once and we didn’t even do anything”. Little did he know, I was scarred from that one time when I was drunk.

Originally it was a great night. You see, Bradley is the biggest nerd in the world - and I loved that. His nerdy friends came over and we all played Secret Hitler, Werewolves and cards against humanity. It was fun. But then, apparently I was ‘Too drunk’ and he took me to bed. We stayed in his parents bed as they weren’t home. He tried touching me a bit but I just went to sleep. I woke up at 4am. I sat up and realised that damn, I was still drunk. The room was spinning, and I just had that feeling you know when you know you’re drunk. He was awake too. I don’t even remember how it happened. One second I was just holding his hand, the next he was inside of me. It hurt. It wasn’t the first time I had done it, but I didn’t like doing it. He told me it was fine and that I wouldn’t remember being drunk in the morning. But I did. I just remember looking at the wall length mirror at the side of his parents bed and looking at my now naked body, proped ontop of his. I was disgusted with myself. I eventually rolled off him. It hurt, a lot , down there. I curled up in a ball of pain. Do you know what Bradley said? “Aren’t you going to finish me off?”. I cried. I couldn’t stop. But he didn’t know. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried (I had managed to pull my night dress back on lucky, as his friends were still downstairs). I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and whispered “did he just….was that…he raped me”. But after an hour or so, I pushed that idea aside and thought “well, I am his girlfriend, I am the legal age for sex and its my fault as, well, I am his girlfriend”.

When I woke up the next morning, my down area was swollen, like a balloon. It was painful. I later found out that this was because I was dry down there (as alcohol takes away moisture) so that’s why it hurt so bad and swelled up. I couldn’t even sit down properly and it hurt for 2 days. I dont even remember if a condom was used.

After that, my love for Bradley began to fade. Not completely of course, but over time I realised how unhappy I was. 2 months ago, I ended my relationship with him. He doesn’t understand. In fact, I don’t think he even knows I remember.

I’m not very good at Tumblr so I dont think I can attach the video, but I recorded my teacher talking in E4L. He asked the room what you could be charged with if you have penetrative sex with someone under the influence of alcohol or drugs. The answer was rape. I dont know why I recorded it, but I did. Ever since then (that was my first lesson this morning ) I’ve felt sick. Sick and sad. I don’t know what to do really.

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BoJack horseman just became one of my favourite series of all time.

It absolutely broke me.

But Diane?? My god. She hit different.

This year I started taking mirtazapine, and I've gained weight. I used to have an eating disorder where I did the opposite. So gaining weight has hit my hard and I struggle with self worth everyday - but I'm so much happier than I used to be.

Seeing Diane gain weight because of medication and not being the butt of the joke, and feeling genuinely a lot happier with herself, I cried. Sobbed. It's not a representation you see a lot.

I'm also a writer and related to her character so much.

When she said

“That means that all the damage I got isn’t ‘good damage’. It’s just damage. I have gotten nothing out of it and all those years I was miserable was for nothing. I could have been happy this whole time and written books about girl detectives and been cheerful and popular had good parents, is that what you’re saying? What was it all for?!”

Again, sobbed. I have PTSD, I am a survivor of SA, and I thought if I don't share my story, if I don't keep feeling the horrible experiences then why did I have to suffer?

I think people who don't like Diane are lucky that they never had to go through the shit she did, or are in denial that they have.

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I'll set the scene of my afternoon:

Curled up on the sofa with a thick hard back book, a beautiful one, with illustrations smooth under my fingertips. A gold ribbon marks where I've read to but I'm so hooked if hardly touches the paper. A glass of red wine, I didn't think I'd enjoy, but here I sit pleasantly surprised. It warms my throat against the cold still air of my flat, heating is too expensive. And there is something magical about reading by fairy lights (little white ghosts against silver string).

Ps. I turned the big light on to take these photos

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Reading fiction for female friendship is kinda sucking ass rn.

(most my friends are men, men suck)

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My book is now on kindle unlimited.

A big FUCK YOU to my rapist :)

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The vibes are strong with this one

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I've started going to the gym,

Wish me luck

I'm asthmatic

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I have to tuck my annotation stuff in my short leg or I'll lose them😶

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I'm so ill

I don't wanna go to work tomorrow

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I really was the ideal emo child.

I ran a popular Facebook fandom page, learnt emo songs on the guitar, bass AND UKULELE.

Added loads of randomers on Facebook (have since made a new Facebook profile)

I just don't think emos emo the same way anymore