soltwater

[soltwater]

oh SHIT i still have this. go me

[soltwater]

just had an, excellent, orgasm dudes and dudettes

[soltwater]

Distracted.

 It feels weird to you

To need to breathe differently because of a thought

Something so imagined

And yet here you are.

You tighten our legs and

Kind of like the feeling of muscle

Pushing against

You know.

  This could be nothing

It could be a huge hunger

That’s asking for stupid decisions.

 But for now,

Let’s just enjoy the

Looking forward to seeing someone

with your body and your brain.

 You deserve to be touched,

Unpeeled.

 You deserve the pin to lift and all of your tension to

pool out

 -

 Kiss him.

[soltwater]

I won't but I really want to cut, all the bad is filling up

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I take back everything I said about this show

[soltwater]

The first thing I will do after this is take my PILLS.

 I am laughably sad at the moment

I am rainclouds following my head like a Charlie Brown cartoon

I am wake up a couple times before my alarm light and smiling, then waking up on time and the cloud has parked again

I have no idea why

I imagine that im stressed about the amount of work I need to do.  I’m sad for Honey being scared of the fireworks.  I am annoyed that Hayley isn’t giving me space for my sadness.  I think about all the amazing shows I don’t have the time to watch and it, for whatever lunatic reason, fills me with a feeling of despair.

I am quitting my job at JB and while it’s mostly a good thing I think I am probably sad about that, too.

 Olaf messaging me is probably making me sad. The frequent masturbating is probably making me sad.

 I just don’t know what to do

Like do I plan a super productive day or do I plan a comforting day?  Where is the difference?

 I want a bath.  

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I wish my rapist died instead

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Be better at the eating disorder you fucking fat idiot

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I'm so in the way and used up

[soltwater]

stuff

Last night as I was falling asleep, I tried to list the things Brendan did to me to make whatever that was as traumatic as it was.  

It’s hard because he really, really hurt me.  And it’s easier to think he’s a piece of shit, forever.  And I think there’s no harm in me thinking that.  But when I list out what he did, and understand that no one else could see it, I understand how people chose the side of indifference.  But that doesn’t undo the trauma it did to me anyway.  They weren’t in charge of how I reacted, I understand that, and as an extension, they don’t get to try get me back into their lives when I want them far, far away.  I feel crazy, I feel so sad that this one boy broke me in so many ways.  But I think, three and a half years after the fact, maybe I can write it down with an air of facuality, and stop my heart and my anger from getting in the way of writing this all down.  As a catch-all for if I ever want to reconnect with people I left behind, or if I want to explain why I can’t.

This still makes me want to cry, it feels like my brain is giving birth because even beginning to try and process this is so much.

- The first instance of abuse:   The first time I got drunk at a party.  I had never held hands with a boy, let alone kiss them.  He tried to walk me home, took me the wrong way and fingered me.  He then started bawling and saying sorry.  The next day he asked me what I remembered.  Was this a rapist trying to see what their victim could recall or was it a teenaged boy having hormones, not hearing a “no” though I was drunk and couldn’t consent, was it a mistake?  I don’t know.  I don’t know which one hurts less.

- The second instance: a couple of weeks into being ‘interested in each other’, Brendan found out I cut myself.  He would cut himself if he saw any cuts on me, but he would cut himself deeper.  He would one-up me, his reasoning being so i could “see how much it hurts him to see me like this”, but whatever his reasoning, he made something that was personal into a thing about him.

- He wouldn’t call my period a period.  It was ‘gross’ and I ‘was gross’ if I was on my period.  He wouldn’t see me when I was on my period.  Retrospectively, I don’t know if this is because I pushed him away because i felt ashamed of menstruating or because he was genuinely repulsed by it.  It’s been easier to just imagine he hated me and wanted to throw me away when I was on my period.

- He would stop talking to me if I upset him.  I did this, too, though.  

- He wouldn’t often have time for me, and I missed him terribly.  But again, this wasn’t abuse even if it hurt me very badly.  What was abuse was that if I didn’t leave my weekends open to him, and instead made alternative plans, especially with other boys, I’d suddenly get a flurry of messages that he missed me and wanted to hold me and why wasn’t I there?

- We had anal sex once and he liked it.  Then, months later, we got drunk and he wanted it again.  I said no, until he started begging me, nearly crying, so I said yes.  I wasn’t “clean” and spent the next three days in agony in embarrassment and questioning if that was rape or not since I did say yes.  I repulsed myself. 

This is pulling teeth.  This is going slowly and forcefully.

From this point, Brendan started to fall in love with Sam, a girl who had won the same scholarship as him.  The scholarship itself was an ugly ordeal.  I couldn’t be happy for Brendan like a partner should because I was poor and so anxious about funding university, but I knew he already had an excess of funds and didn’t need this.  I wish I could’ve just been supportive - but I wish more that I wasn’t fucking poor.

Sam lived in Christchurch, a flight away from Brendan and I, but he talked to her on facebook daily.  

-Brendan would come to my house and ignore me and message Sam instead.  I started to resent her.  When I told brendan I didn’t like her / I was scared of her, he told me I was being crazy.  The line he used that hurt the most was that i was ‘acting like my mother’.  

- I don’t know how actively he did this, but he pushed my mom and I so far away from each other.  And my friends were pushed away too because I only ever wanted to spend time with Brendan.  I found myself on an island, literally (we lived on an island) and metaphorically.

- When we found out I was going to get dux, not him, he acted immaturely.  He said that dux was stupid and didn’t mean anything.  But I was immature, too.  When I overheard him telling this to the most beautiful girl at the party we were at, I went and kissed one of my female friends in public.  It was blatantly to show I didn’t care about him, when obviously I did.  

- When we were breaking up, I asked him again to just tell me he had feelings for Sam.  He didn’t.  A few weeks later I cornered his best friend into telling me the truth, and Sam and Brendan were together.

The moment that I found that out, I remember how hot my body was.  I felt worse than if something had died - it would have hurt less if I died at that second.  I spent the last months of our relationship convincing myself I was a maniac when I was always right.  At the time, and for years after, the anger was just at brendan and at sam.  But now I wonder if some of that was at myself, because I knew that I was right but I didn’t protect myself because I was too busy being so, so in love.

This says nothing about what happened with friends afterwards.  Brendan sent a message to the “friend group” saying he felt excluded because he wasn’t seeing them.  He framed it as I was forcing people to not be with him.  I was proactive in organizing events ALL THE TIME because I couldn’t bare to be alone.  Because I was doing that, people felt less need to organize their own things.  But I did make it clear that if Brendan was invited to something, I wouldn’t come.  I don’t think I presented it as an unkind ultimatum, but honestly maybe I did.  I did push his friends away from him, but i did it cleverly.  My impulse is to immediately add here ‘he deserved it’.

Then one day Brendan had a fight with me on a boat commuting from Waiheke to Auckland.  I have no idea what the story was that got out, but I was aware I was painted as the ‘bad person’.  

It was something like a 9am boat.  I told my friend Sean I could take that boat, but I didn’t want to sit next to brendan.  Sean said that was great, he wanted to sit with me anyway, and I should still get this boat instead of waiting an hour later for the next one.  Brendan was, as we guessed, on this boat.   When Sean and I went to sit down at a table, Brendan asked if he could sit with us and Sean asked if it was ok if it was just him and I.  Brendan called me a bitch, or said “don’t you think that’s a bit unfair?” I don’t remember.  Eventually, my friend Bella and her dad also showed up and we all sat together.  Brendan eventually came to our table to yell at me, say that I was taking his friends away from him, etc.  Bella’s dad had to tell him enough was enough and he needed to sit down.  He sat on a table in clear view of us and began bawling.  We sent Sean to sit with him.  

After that, a group chat went silent.  It consisted of myself, Maya, Maia, Rina and Elle.  They were all my friends, but they have known brendan since he was five.  Maia has also been in love with Brendan.  So I had the traumatic boat experience, and then was left with no communication, and could only guess what happened because I didn’t feel like telling anyone what the fuck happened on the boat because it wasn’t their business.

I was so, so fucking tired.  It was the middle of my first year of university.  I don’t know how I finished that year.  I was in a daze of sleeping pills for the most part of it.  I would have violent, constant nightmares about Brendan.  I still do, three years later. Nowhere felt safe.  The boat was a constant source of terror, and so was my island home.  I’m shaking typing this and revisiting those feelings of trauma.  I couldn’t ever be alone, I needed an escort anywhere I went to even pretend to feel or be human.

So that’s where that is.

A side note that is sad but not relevant to any of this, was he was the only sex I have ever enjoyed.  Which also adds to my sadness at the way things went so, so wrong.  I’ve recently had a sexual encounter that was so forced and scary, I feel very fucked up about sex.  I hate that Brendan was the only sex I’ve had and really enjoyed.

[soltwater]

It's not my house so I don't know how sharp their knives are and I'd hate to bluntly rub my wrist against it in,the bathroom. But I could "accidentally" drop a glass and then use a shard or try find where ariana keeps her art supplies

[soltwater]

Like I won't do anything tonight. I'll go to sleep then forget tomorrow. But.right now I should go

[soltwater]

My flatmates will look after Honey and lotus. Mom and sah might die too but then they can join me. Like I know I'll upset a lot of people but I just think I need to go

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if someone reblogged me they'd tag it "fat positivity" and I want to kill myself my fat sloth gluttonous fucking evil face.

[soltwater]

I need to cut myself but my flatmates are so close to me they'd see it and I don't want them to and I don't want to deal w the repercussions but my skin is so tight I'm going to burst out of it I need to set myself on fire burn myself back into awakeness

[soltwater]

If I were anorexic again I'd be beautiful no matter what