unhappy-childrens

[unhappy-childrens]

I hope you recovered from whatever made you do those things to me.

[unhappy-childrens]

idk why i’m even writing this but it’s for me to remember what happened. it’s rly long and talks about sexual assault. you don’t have to read the whole thing

It was June 3rd, 5:44 am when I woke up with his arms around me.

I was at her house. Her friend wanted to get drunk for the first time, so we were gonna do it with 5 friends and have a good time. Her older sister, 19 years old, was there too.

Around 9:30, he came with the alcohol. A water bottle filled with gin, some peach schnapps, and a bunch of beer. I had maybe 1/2 a beer, a shot of gin and a couple shots of the schnapps (mixed in a couple drinks with orange juice, fruit, and ginger ale).

I was just a little tipsy. My friends were all very very drunk, so it was me, her sister, and him watching over everyone. I had never met him but he seemed nice enough. We talked about video games, school, and mental hospitals. He never seemed to flirt with any of us, he was a big awkward nerd. He was almost 18 and had just graduated.

I changed into sweatpants and a cute bralette from brandy melville. Maybe a little revealing, but i was hot and didn’t care. One girl and the sister were on a couch, and one girl who had fallen asleep early were on the other couch. It was going to be me, her, and one other girl in her bed. I was in the middle, and was super uncomfortable and squished so I was gonna sleep on the floor because she had blankets and a fluffy rug.

He was going to drive himself home but he was very drunk. We hid his keys and told him to sleep on a dog bed or the floor, because he clearly couldn’t drive safely. When I got up to sleep on the floor, he was sitting in the dining room still on his phone. I got some water and just said i was gonna sleep in the living room because the bed was too crowded. He didn’t say anything but he did try to cover me with a blanket when I was almost asleep. I said I was too hot and pushed it away. At this point I couldn’t sleep and it was about 3:00 am. He didn’t take the blanket but slept near me on the dog bed. I remember he was snoring on the dog bed, and then I fell asleep.

I kinda remember someone sharing the blanket with me, it was a really big blanket. I assumed it was a friend who wanted to be next to me. I was still mostly asleep and didn’t think anything of it. Looking back, I think someone was holding my hand and locked fingers with mine, but again I was so tired I didn’t care and thought it was one of my friends trying to be cute or something.

I woke up at 5:44 to him being wrapped around me. I was laying flat on my stomach, facing away from him. He had one arm under my stomach, with his hand in the small of my back. His other arm was under my arm and holding my boob, his hand under my bra. He moved his head from my shoulder/neck where it felt like he was kissing me. I’m not sure if he was trying to reposition me but it felt like he was trying to lift my torso up so that he could put me on top of him. I woke up and scrambled to the other side of the living room, saying “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck” over and over. Again, all my friends were asleep on the couches around me.

Her sister woke up and sleepily asked if i was okay. I was confused and tired and hungover and said that I thought I was okay. He didn’t even look at me, he just crawled back to the dog bed and pulled his jacket over his face and fell asleep. Her sister also fell asleep a minute later, as I layed there trying to figure out what had just happened. I cried a little bit and was shaking, so I went back to her bedroom. I told her that he was on me, but she was confused and didn’t understand what i meant. She fell asleep quickly.

I layed there for over an hour, waiting for someone to wake up. I couldn’t sleep and all I could think about was him. I didn’t understand what had happened. I was a little drunk, younger than him, smaller than him. I’d never even met him. I never flirted with him at all, or ever said it was okay to touch me. I was fucking asleep.

I don’t know how long he was like that, or what he did. Did he touch my ass? Did he go under my sweatpants? How long was his hand in my bra? How long had he been kissing my neck? Why was he trying to put me on top of him? Did he touch any of my friends, or had he ever done this to other girls before me? If I didn’t wake up when I did, what would have happened? I knew he didn’t rape me, but did it count as sexual assault?

As everyone woke up, he woke up too and got his stuff and left without looking at me. He seemed still drunk or very hungover. I told everyone what happened, and they were nice about it. I was mad and confused, and hungover. My head hurt and my stomach hurt, and her sister made us some pancakes.

I drove home at 10:30. I had only slept for a few hours, because once I woke up with him on my I couldnt get back to sleep. I had to pretend I wasn’t hungover, because my parents couldn’t know that I was drinking.

I tried to sleep, but all I could think about was how scared I was when I woke up. My stomach still hurt but I didn’t have the energy to move. My parents went out to get some groceries and that’s when I lost it. I started balling my eyes out, shaking, and having a panic attack. I took 2 showers to try and get his dirty hands off of me. I had to pull it together and pretend I was fine when I was downstairs with my parents, I bit my tongue and faked my way through dinner.

I texted my friends who were at the party, and some who weren’t there. They all had different responses but it felt good to talk about it. After another shower, I tried to watch some movies and play in my phone but I didn’t have the energy to do that. I couldn’t move or eat anything other than a small dinner ( My parents make me eat dinner with them) and I was still hungover. All I could do was cry and stare at the wall, hating him and myself. I cried and cried and cried until I fell asleep. I had horrible nightmares about him, I just kept reliving it.

The next day was better, and I tried not to think about it. ( I was also preoccupied because someone stole my back license plates on my car)I only cried at night and it wasn’t as bad. Hopefully tomorrow will be better, and it will keep getting better until it goes away. I hope it goes away.

I’m still having trouble with it. I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal, I didn’t think it counted as sexual assault at the time. I thought that because it wasn’t rape, it didn’t matter. I feel like it’s my fault because I was the one who fell asleep on the floor near him and I’m the one who chose to wear revealing clothes. I never wanted it to happen and i never thought that it would happen but i still blame myself, even though i didn’t have a chance to say no. It’s hard because I was asleep, and I don’t know what he touched or for how long. I’ll never know exactly what he did.

( i don’t know why i wrote this. i guess as a memeory that it happened. in case i ever need to remember any details, except for names. I left those out to keep it anonymous. )

[unhappy-childrens]

[unhappy-childrens]

10/31/17

[unhappy-childrens]

I hope you recovered from whatever made you do those things to me.

[unhappy-childrens]

oh? you haven’t heard? it’s all gonna be okay!

[unhappy-childrens]

reminder: you can start over at anytime. your day is not ruined. your world is not over. take a deep breath. start over.

[unhappy-childrens]

personal comic about being sad

[unhappy-childrens]

[unhappy-childrens]

Getting back into restricting is honestly the best feeling in the world. It makes you feel like you FINALLY have control over yourself again.

[unhappy-childrens]

what happened to me was not poetic, it was fucking traumatizing and i’m going to spend the rest of my life recovering from it

[unhappy-childrens]

rambles about mental health and parents

on body image…

• am i less depressed because my meds are working or because i’ve lost weight?

• i don’t even feel hungry anymore, and eating a full meal feels like a binge. i rarely eat over 1000 calories, i’ll have panic attacks and won’t eat more than 100 calories for a week.

• i see my weight going down on the scale and i can wrap my hands around my thighs, i can see my ribs and my hipbones poke out. My collar bones are breaking from my chest, my shoulder blades and sharp. i can see my spine, my arms are getting smaller. i know i’ve made progress, but i get so bloated i feel worse than when i was 10 pounds heavier. but hey, i had my period for the second time in 9 months last week, so i must be fine, right?

• my dad knew i was purging my meals, he told to make sure and brush my teeth. he sees that i don’t eat my lunch, he laughs and says more for me. he jokes about how “i look like a ghost” and “i need to put some meat in my bones”. he sees my heart break, he says he sorry. he jokes about it again the next day. he’s given up on me, my life has been crushed into a thousand pieces, he laughs and says “i need to lighten up.”

on my mother

• why would you have a kid that you didn’t love? why would you put me in such an unfair position, where you scream for days, make me feel worthless, and then act like nothing happened? as a kid, i knew i had to love her, because she kept me alive. i needed her to feed me, to give me a house to live in and clothes to wear. i loved you, but i hated you. i spent countless nights crying in my sleep, begging my dad to let me live with him full time. i loved her, but i didn’t, but i didn’t have a choice. for anyone who wonders why women stay in abusive relationships, this is why. i couldn’t separate the love from the hate, the screaming from the singing. don’t you dare tell me you are yelling at me out of love, to protect me, or any other bullshit. i can’t cope with the pain.

• my therapist is looking into getting me a lawyer, to see if it’s even possible for me to move out. all this money, stress, and tears, and for what? i’ll still remember her voice in my ears, her eyes staring into all my insecurities. i can still feel her hands on my body, pulling me into a hug i didn’t want, using her dirty money to buy things i didn’t want. the feeling of helplessness, knowing that i was trapped with her, and i couldn’t make it stop. even if she goes away, the memories are still there.

• you’ve taken away my identity. i’m a ghost, no emotions. i quit figure skating because you didn’t want to drive me, it was too much work. i can’t journal my thoughts without them being broadcasted to the world. i can’t bake my favorite foods, it makes too many dishes. i’ve deleted every personal app from my phone, you’ve even tracked my calls. i live in the middle of nowhere, with nothing that’s mine. i’ve stopped eating because i don’t think i deserve to eat, i’m a horrible child. i wear plain clothes, no makeup. what luck. what a fucking curse.

• how could you hurt people so badly? you screamed at me in the car until my friend was crying too. you yelled at my stepmom until she drove away, and left me with you. you scared crisis counselors into staying quiet, trying to make them loose their job. forcing your husband into submission, until he slowly did not speak another word. how can you live with that?

• now, i can’t see my family, family friends, or your coworkers without crying. hearing you tell every personal detail to my grandma. bringing your friends so see me in the hospital, hooked up to more wires than i could count. my neighbors know every bloody detail about my suicide attempt, you sent pictures of my cuts to my aunt. i can’t trust anyone, thanks to you.

[unhappy-childrens]

“Not only am I a ghost, but I’m the saddest, unhappiest, miserablest ghost in town!”

[unhappy-childrens]

[unhappy-childrens]

Are you ok?

Me: well yes, but actually no

[unhappy-childrens]

i keep tracing my scars with my fingers even though my ptsd gets worse, all the flashbacks from slicing my skin open over a hundred times, every scar has a story and it’s painful

some days i feel pain shooting through my arm and leg, like i just harmed myself, it makes me paralyzed and so so scared, touching the scars is like touching a very bad bruise 

i don’t think i’ll ever forget the feeling of hurting myself, i’ll never forget what it’s like laying in the ER waiting to get stitches, i’ll never forget what it’s like to be in so much pain mentally that i make my poor body suffer so much by putting a blade on it over and over again

[unhappy-childrens]

I hate when people tell me I need to ‘get out of my comfort zone’ I don’t even have a comfort zone. I am literally always uncomfortable