Monday, July 9, 2012

Trophy Wife

Congratulations You acted like and adult today!

Today is good. Lately, I've been super lazy. This week I think I skipped taking a shower 4 days out of the week and slept in until noon. Something grabbed a hold of me and magnetized me into the abyss of depression again. Last night I decided to make  a difference today.
I woke up at 6am today and worked out! Me, working out. It felt horrible but after taking a shower and shaving my legs (again me, shave my legs?) I felt like a new woman. It is a big deal to me that I accomplished waking up early, working out, shaving, hair makeup, and GETTING DRESSED in 40 minutes. To top it off, I was able to do this and make a crock pot meal all before my usual time to leave for work. I do have the day off today but start again tomorrow. It's exciting. I am so excited. This feels like a day for an adult award.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

A letter to my first love

Your words torture me. I wish you never said those things to me. Our relationship could never be. I wish you had understood it better then. We were in the statutory category. I was in middle school. You were in British High School and about to go to college. How could a relationship that only existed in letters survive me growing up. You were an adult. I was just a child. Part of me feels that you took advantage of me because I was innocent and willing to do everything you wanted when you wanted. We became best friends and then you visted the first time to my house and it was too confusing for me to process. How in the world a man from a computer arrive to my house and be welcomed in warmly by my family. It is still so strange but there we were  confused and excited. We played games and enjoyed the outdoors during spring break and summer break. You would stay for a month at a time then you moved up to two months. It became too much. I was feeling suffocated. Then my whole world crashed in on itself and I had told my best friend how a man I didn't know came to me in the night and raped me. You were angry that I didn't come to you first. It didn't give you any excuse to say it was all my fault. I hid it from you to protect you. My life with you was supposed to be fun and almost secondary to my life at home or school in Oregon.

What you said to me was horrible. You told me it was my fault and couldn't understand what I had been going through. I was tortured by my thoughts in the day and wanted to die in my dreams at night. Why weren't you there for me instead?

My life was too much to handle so I ended it. I told you the last time you visited that I hated you and wanted you to never come back. You took all my shampoo when you took showers and it pissed me off. I didn't like that you wanted to force me to lose more weight and when I turn 18 to get boob implants. You dick I was already a 34 C. How could you tell me my body wasn't good enough? Were you using me?

When we broke up you told me that I was so ugly my own mother didn't want to keep me so she threw me away and some pathetic family with no hope adopted me. You also said that every year I keep getting uglier and uglier.

Sometimes, when it was late at night and I knew the time difference between Oregon and England was right, I'd try to find you. Sometimes it worked and we talked but it was only for you to tell me how angry you were with me. One time you were even drunk confessing your undying love for me but you couldn't be with someone who accepts they were raped only to do nothing about it. We talked about the trial I might go to but I told you that I couldn't handle it and we settled for a plea bargain. 

I'm older now and I feel that I am beautiful. I have a husband who thinks I am beautiful and he is very tall and full of ass kicking muscles. I wish someone would beat your face in. You are nothing but a weak insecure preying bastard who sought me out of boredom. You thought you knew what love was so you would fly across the country to see me. That is not love. I don't care if you flew around the world twice before you visited me every time. I hate you.

Friday, July 6, 2012

Things to remember when I'm older

This seems like a weird place to be at. A twenty something living in my own house, saving for retirement, being fiscally responsible, paying bills, doing grocery shopping...sigh* I looked back over the past year and I've realized that there has been many accomplishments that are laughable. I'd like to share some of them with the world.

My skills I've developed include:
- Knowing when you can no longer eat food that was left out on the stove
     - the next morning is sometimes okay unless involving dairy items.
- Drowning flowers in pots
- Covering up hang over hair with baby powder and hair spray before going to church
- Oral sex giving and receiving
- How to wash darks, lights, and colors in the same load
- How to use dish soap as it was intended and some not so conventional methods
- Folding dress pants for interviews so that it looks like I ironed a crease into them
- Top roman noodles in gourmet dishes
- How to vomit on purpose
- Crafting paper goods into decorations
- Sewing holes
- Pining original ideas to
- Vacuuming pets

I've also learned some lessons:
- Don't drive with the parking brake on
- Dawn dish soap does not substitute for dish washing soap
- Cat litter needs to be changed more than once week
- Having twitter followers does not make you feel popular in real life
- Telling people about how popular are on the internet is not socially advisable
- Parents can not text back for hours or days but if you miss a single text from them the police start a search party.
- Wearing utility gloves makes you brave and invincible to poo and spiders

Helpful advice:
Don't go to bed angry with your boyfriend / husband
Remember to feed the cat
Remember to feed the fish
Rinse vegetables before putting them away

Sunday, July 1, 2012

A Poem

I can hear her
She is inside my heart
knocking away at the lock I placed there to bar her in
Knocking constantly
I know what she wants to tell me
These memories I once had I can no longer bare to hear
She was a gemstone from heaven
Her beauty was great and her smile was warm
I can not remove that lock
If I saw her distress cry out of her face I would die
Pain kills me a little everytime I pause to hear her
Knocking, Knocking
Don't let her out, It's probably safer to hide her
That child inside my heart
She doesn't know but the world is different
It is no longer between night and day
The pain is real and the mind can not cope
Oh but if she could see our life here tastes sweet
It would be like dancing among lilies of the valley
-Rebecca (C) TwistedHousewife


Therapy the last time went pretty well. I finally want to move on from this. I am sick of wallowing and crying. The Christian women in my life have brought me so much encouragement. This does not mean the pain won't be there like an everlasting scar. Also the actual body scars are still there.

I am planning a "rape memorial" a "celebration of my life". There was 10 years I hid this away under my bed like some hoarding of memories. My family was not able to cope well with it either. In two weeks I'll be having a celebration. The plan is to invite people who this affected and who were there to offer comfort during my battle to get this man convicted. 10 years is a lot of repression to get through. I'm not assuming 10 years worth of grief will pour out of me at rocket launching speeds leaving me exhausted and empty in the end. I'll still have pleanty to deal with. This week is just mean to allow me time and freedom to grieve what I haven't been allowed to do.

After being raped, I still went to school where I continued to pretend like it never happened. It was a secret. I kept it a secret through high school and the many relationships I tried to have. I felt like it was my job to just pick myself up out of a puddle of cum and despair to help become better about what happened. Just keep a happy face. The years following the incident I felt like a zombie. I was dead. Before I was radiant and a happy child. Post rape, I became addicted to drugs, alcohol, and sex. I faked my way through many sexual relationships trying to find love and fulfillment. I tried to find the next high to mask the pain. If I couldn't get drugs or alcohol to disillusion myself, I'd seek danger and adrenaline. Speeding, jumping off bridges, running across traffic at night, and hooking up with complete strangers in horrible places.

This event will be huge for me. I am worried that my family won't take me seriously or try to help too much and not focus on the healing. It is like my innocence has died and I never got a funeral for it. For that little girl who used to be so happy. This week I am focusing on writing a letter to that child. I'll also focus on the happiness and joy that has come into my life since this has happened. I want to remember that I was not alone. I chose to sin against my parents, leave my house in the hopes of running away from previous grief from a grandparent's death, hop in a car with a stranger, and be transported to hell and back. I used to think I was alone. I was so angry at God. How could he allow a child to go this way in life? He must not love me or I must have earned this horrible fate.

I was broken and in the car (which is usually where I break down). My tears were pooling up inside my chest aching to leave my body. I thought to myself, "How is it, that I am here?"

This was the answer I received from the Lord.