Something inside snaps in every one of us that has every dealt with any sort of pain stemming from abuse. I guess that is what makes us become victimized. Easy targets being roomed for the next sick twisted freak. The more negativity that we find ourselves wrapped up in the more useless we become. Useless to ourselves in the sense we no longer care of the outcomes. Feeling more attacked each and every time by our own minds as we fail to recognize ourselves anymore. I used to love wallowing in my pain. Somewhere I convinced myself that I wasn’t worth of any sort of life worth having. I used to live in my head and tell myself over and over again that no matter how hard I tried I would always be spinning my wheels like a hamster in a cage. Never going anywhere always remaining still. Still in my own grief of a life I thought wasted.

When I want to be depressed it truly is a conscious effort. Of course I always can tear up out of compassion for life events that occur all over the World. I am sensitive. I have a sensitive heart. I don’t like to be taken advantage of but back then it truly didn’t matter if I was. It also didn’t matter who I hurt along the way because I always had the best excuses (at least to me they were) why it was acceptable to be a bitch. Did you ever sit and reflect back on your life and become so ashamed of things that you have done? I would justify all those moments in my life because I was beaten. I was abused. I was raped. I was left for dead in an apartment downtown. Feel sorry for me because all these shitty things have happened. Feel sorry for me even if I am the one who is going to put the knife in your back. The reality of who I was when I was younger is I was that wolf in sheep’s clothing.  I think of all the pieces of my storey that I ever told I was convinced I would never share this one. To embarrassed of my own reality. Their is no value in sharing to you. Only incredible value to me. Maybe somebody will see from what I am about to share that we are incapable of healing our own hearts until we can be honest and humble with ourselves.

Being lost and in a poor negative state I obviously gravitated to the next loser. The wannabe drug dealer with no hopes of a future. I mean he was the worst type of all. He used his own supply. Robbed Peter to pay Paul and worst of all he kept me isolated from the outside world. I wasn’t even allowed to use internet or call my mom. My mom thought I had died it had been so long. Nobody knew where to find me and I was content in just disappearing. There is only so long anybody can live like that. I ended up growing restless and told him that I needed to get a job at the very least part time and I needed to actually have one or two friends. After some convincing he allowed me to have internet and I was able to reconnect with some friends on Facebook. All I wanted was to connect with somebody in some way even though I knew I was not able to sustain anything long term anyways.

A friend of mine had invited me to a fundraiser. It had all the elements I needed to be allowed to go. It was during the day. It was with a girl and it was for charity. The details of that night don’t matter as much as the friend that I was with. I ended up meeting a flashier drug dealer that night that had no problem flashing his wealth. That was the first of many nights that I would lie to my boyfriend because I was sick of him lying to me. About a month into this fiasco the new guy informed me that he was going to go to jail for probably a very long time. Heartbroken because I saw him as my ticket to getting out of there I continued to see him till he was locked away. A week before he was to be sentenced he was supposed to meet me at my friend’s birthday. He didn’t show up till after the bar’s closed. That should have been my indication that he wasn’t too into me but when you hate yourself as much as I did all you cared about was the drugs and alcohol anyways.

When you hang out with losers something is always bound to happen. Sure enough when we awoke we noticed that his car was missing. In a frenzied state he started searching each and every room. What we found was that my friend who’s birthday it was and his other friend that he showed up with had taken his car that wouldn’t you know had drugs in the trunk. At this point everybody was getting mad trying to get them to bring the car back. They were both high and drunk and the likelihood of something happening was growing by the minute. As we saw the car pool down the street I watched the guy I was with hide in the bushes. When they parked the car he cold cocked my friend right square in the face breaking his nose. His friend was the one who was driving yet he got off scots free. The guy jumped in his car and drove away. All of a sudden I got punched from behind and thrown down a hill. It was by the girl that I went to the fundraiser with. Staring into her eyes wiping the blood from my nose I vowed to get revenge in any way I could.

I was mad because of everything that happened. I thought I was cool seeing this guy that just left me at a party to get beat the next morning. But now I had to make my way home to my current situation and think of a lie to cover up all that had happened. Revenge was what fueled me. I had to find a way.