I’m tired, extremely angry, lazy, unmotivated, sad, resentful, regretful, sickened, lonely, dejected, rejected, unwanted, looked down upon, on the verge of tears every second of every day, hateful, emotional, gross, and undetermined…Just a few things that have been describing my moods lately. I can’t seem to get at peace with myself. I know this is putting an incredible toll on my body and mind, but I just can’t help it. I can’t even go out and have fun with friends anymore…not that I actually have any. I just go out and get completely plastered to the point where no one wants to be around me. I can’t just go & have a few drinks & get that happy buzz. its like 0-60 in 5 shots.. Everyone seems to be finding someone new. I know I need to surround myself with better people and not worry with what they have to say. My ex bf is in town for 2 weeks. I’m trying to stay as far away from the places he hangs out at as possible. I just don’t want to see him. AT ALL. He stresses me out to the point where I’m having panic attacks and just want to throw & hit things. We can have good conversations every once in a while, but its when he acts like he still knows me and says things about getting back together is when I flip out. I’m not the same girl I was when I was with him. I wish I was. I wish I was still so innocent, so pure, and mostly happy. I’m none of those things now. I keep praying for help and salvation. I know God hears me and I’ve got to do most of the work. I’m just so depressed. I’m debating on going to talk to a doctor. I know I won’t, but I should. I cry every day. Every Single Day. In the shower so no one can hear me, when I can’t sleep and everyone else is already passed out I bury my face into my tear soaked pillow and just cry. Why am I so sad? I know why. This isn’t the life for me. This isn’t the life I planned! I know they say “if you want to make God laugh just tell him your plan for life” but it wasn’t supposed to go this wrong. After graduating highschool, my plan was to go to college to be a dentist, finish up my 4 years close to home. By then I would be 22 and would have met an amazing man, someone probably a little older than me. We would get engaged and I would probably be married by about 24 with a baby on the way as i completed grad school. None of that is going to happen. It makes me sick to think how close I was and how it just slipped right through my fingers. I have SO much pain inside that no one even knows about and I can’t even tell anyone because it makes ME look bad. It hurts so bad to think about it. I try to push it out of my mind, but its still there. Its still always there, always. It haunts me. Haunts me constantly to think how careless and stupid and Naiive I was.  Why did it have to hurt so bad?

 

“My hand shakes as I begin the first chapter of this book. Gripping the pen so tight that the white knuckles begin to scream in agony. The blue pen touches the paper and the words begin to flow. Pressing harder, harder, and harder until the paper can’t take it anymore and it begins to tear with every stroke of the utensil. Chapter 1, The Beginning.

Blue and white caps and gowns are scattered across the gym floor. Students, family members, and teachers stand patiently waiting for the Alma Matter to end. The choir stops and royal and ivory caps float through the air like the free birds that the newly graduated seniors have become. Oh, high school, now those were the days. Counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until the last bell. We couldn’t wait to get on that open highway. Myrtle Beach bound. I guarentee not a single student will forget that week of absolute freedom that they had been wishing for since the first day they walked the halls of Fairpointe High School. It was a week of raves, booze, sex, and complete detachment from all that was holding them back in the small town of Fairpointe, Alabama.

Well, the week was over before we knew it, but those memories would surely last forever. All I can remember thinking was Wow! So this is what life is going to be like from now on. Boy was I wrong. But I didn’t know that yet, so I was just livin’ the dream, Baby! We all arrived home, tanned, some of us even tattooed, and pierced Most of us still hungover and wreaking of the previous night’s excursions.

That summer was the turning point of life for me. 18 years old, getting ready to start college. I got into my first relationship at the end of June that year. He was a good guy. 3 years older than me, wayy more expierienced, but I think thats what attracted me to him. I was loyal to him as he was to me. He taught me everything. He used to joke about how ordered a “build your own girlfriend” because he litterally had to show me step by step everything. I learned how to kiss. I still smile when I think about that night. I was so embarrassed because I was 18 years old and had never made out with a boy before. He thought it was cute. 

I took a summer school class and met a girl named Emily. She was a punk rocker chick with piercings all over and wasn’t scared of anyone or anything. I envied her so. One night we decided to attend a Frat party. My first, her billion-th. I had my first keg beer, met tons of hot guys, and men actually gave me attention. I was tan, thin, long beach blonde hair, and a beautiful smile. Now that I think about it, I probably would’ve given myself attention too. I wasn’t always that way though. Always tall, always blonde, but rarely ever tan, and not thin until senior year. And even then I didn’t think it was enough. I was never the cool kid in high school. I didn’t really have a clique and the only reason I was asked to go on senior trip was because one of the girls on the softball team I played on had her roommate bail on her. I didn’t fit in that week either, but I managed to have fun and try. I tanned for probably about 3 months before the trip. I wanted to be tan for prom, graduation, spring break, and mainly so when I passed out on the beach I wouldn’t get sun burnt. As far as the thin part goes, I was 5’8″ 152 pounds my sophomore year in high school. I decided that I’d let myself get out of control and it must be stopped. I simply quit eating, and when I did eat I purged. I saw no problem in it. I always told myself “Just until you get to 140, then just 5 more pounds, and 5 more and so on.” I did that until I was a little over 120. I loved myself then. Oh what a dream it was. No wonder the frat guys couldn’t keep their eyes off me. But silly me, I thought they actually liked me for who I was. I learned my lesson. Me, Emily, and 4 other guys who I only know by nicknames stayed up playing cards for hours, getting drunker and drunker by the minute. Emily eventually left, leaving me there to keep on playing. I remember walking up steps, following and being followed. I remember darkness and rustling. I remember asking one of the guys when he took down his pants “what are you doing?” He simply replied “waiting.” It hurt. It hurt so bad. All I could do was cry. Tears soaked the sheets where I was laying reaching for help. None came. What seemed like an eternity later I ran to the bathroom. I cried and cried and cried until I couldn’t breathe anymore. I found a window and jumped to the ground. I’m sure it hurt, but I could no longer feel pain. I ran to my car as the sun began rising over the rolling hills. I drove back home and curled up in my bed and tried to sleep. I tried to tell myself that it didn’t happen, that NOTHING HAPPENED. I knew better. Thats where it all started.

 

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