I feel sick every time I look at that picture of my ribs protruding out that I posted last night. I’m ashamed. I’m ashamed of what the rape has turned me into. Sometimes I sit and wonder if it is down to the rape. Am I just a pathetic person? Was I always a victim?
I don’t think those things for long though.
I was strong, you know? I mean, how can you be weak while raising a child single handed, smashing one of the hardest degrees all while keeping on top of a chronic illness amongst a few there as well. I wasn’t weak, I just made the mistake of falling in love with a well disgusted monster.
I do feel bad for calling him that. But, how can I not? I hope people realise that it hurts me very much to even call him that, but, yeah, how can I not? This man raped me. He claimed it was a mistake, he claimed he was confused. I believed him for a very long time, but then I questioned how could he possibly have been confused..? I remember the panic in my voice when I said no. I remember how scared I felt when I was telling him to stop it. I remember the hundreds of nights since where I have woken up screaming and crying.
I don’t think these things are very easily confused somehow.
You know, I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping quiet. By that, I mean right by him which is what had mattered to me. Through doing that, I completely ignored that I was breaking apart. I ignored how hollow, dirty, ashamed and upset I felt. It was all cast into the shadows by the fact that I loved this guy. But now, fifteen months on I have forced myself to allow myself to feel what I should have openly felt all along, and it’s hard work.
I say fifteen months. I could tell you how many weeks, days, or even hours it has been since he did what he did, that’s the turmoil it caused me on the quiet. Him? He’s told me before that he doesn’t even remember what day he did it on. That shows a huge deal of remorse, doesn’t it, folks. The spineless coward doesn’t even remember when he did what he did, you know, rape and ruined a life?
Hardly memorable, I’m sure.
I wish I could waste away faster. Barely eaten. I’ve had one packet of crisps and a chicken wrap today that I purged not long afterwards. Dinner was waiting for me in the oven when I got in from work this evening (long day). I wolfed it down like a pig, but I mentioned what I deserved last blog post, didn’t I – damage.
To damage myself is to be in control. Just a worthless rape victim anyways; remember that. If I was a worthwhile person then what happened to me would not have happened.
Raped and not even worth apologising to. This, from the man who claimed to always love me. If I had the energy to laugh then I would, but that’s what 500kcals a day does to you, eh. How can you like yourself knowing that you and only you are responsible for ripping someone’s entire world apart? I couldn’t do that, I just couldn’t. But then again, I have morals, perhaps that is what really separates us, and the fact that I’m not a pathetic coward with a rape under their belt, right?
I’m sure that egotistical ‘man’ and to be honest, some of his friends most likely think that me reaching out, being suicidal, being depressed, disordered eating etc is to do with him walking away.
Let me stop you there with that hysterical train of thought.
Nah, seriously. Nah.
The situation I find myself in currently has to do with two things and two things only:
- That coward raping me.
- How badly I was treating after saying goodbye to Baby.
Do I love him? No. Do I care about his life? No. Do I miss him? No.
Am I angry about what he did? Yes, very. Am I gunning for justice? Yes, very much so.
And to think, readers, this could have been nipped in the bud if he wasn’t so pathetic and actually just apologised for what he did to me. For what he has done to me, because th damage is very much ongoing. I am ill. Very ill, and why should I be the only one living with the turmoil that his heinous actions have caused? Why. Not. Him?
I’m going to go and purge until that euphoric feeling of slowly wasting away hits me once more.