Fear & Loathing

<-- This is from PostSecret. <3 that site.


I read a book not so long ago. Christopher Moore's You Suck: A Love Story. Before I go into much detail, I'll say it was a great read. A fast, funny, lovely little story. Brilliant characterization, satire, and weaving of one storyline into another. Not something that would generally inspire deep thoughts and intense feelings... but when Jodi explained why she loved being a vampire... that for her it made her feel strong and it meant she never had to be afraid again.... I had to take a moment from the story. I was dumbstruck by how deeply that resonated with me. I live in a pretty safe town at the moment, yet I hate to take the bus because the stop is across the street from a frat house. I don't look like a Playmate, but I learned young to be so wary... This is a list of the experiences that made me wary. I don't believe I've been sexually abused, but I have been shocked by how many people have been and don't see it and blame themselves. Sad.

First: Every man in my life has abandoned me, as I've gotten older I have done it to them before they could to me. It started with my father, who did heroine in front of me (though I don't remember thankfully), and my mother subsequently left him.... since he likely was the cause of my brother's death as well. There are too many others to go into them all, but they all factored into my current issues.

Second: In the front yard playing with ponies with my little sister (ex-step sister now, but whatever) a man who looked just like a school friend's father pulls up in a white van, he calls me over. I, in my 9 year old innocence, ask him if he's Joseph's father. He laughs and says that he is. So I approach, at least still cautious enough to stay out of arm's length but where I can see through the open window. He has his penis in his hand, and asks me if I'd like to see him make white stuff come out. I yelled for my mother, but they never found him. I didn't get his entire license plate... and I hate that I didn't. And that I didn't want to play out front ever again. I still can't go into my front yard without feeling exposed. I make myself sometimes, but I still feel it. I'm almost 26 today. I hope my sister-soul Cami doesn't remember that at all.

Third & Fourth: I was in middle school, just beginning to have guys have crushes on me and vice versa. I was awkward, my mother and I were terribly poor and I had just lost my step family, I wore my mother's clothes or cast offs donated to the church, the church was the only place I felt safe lately. We were living with my grandfather because my mom couldn't afford a place on her own. My previously beloved grandfather turned out to be a social alcoholic, and abusive. Apparently he had been physically, emotionally, and verbally abusive of my mother her entire life until she was married. (Something she didn't tell me until after...she still jumps whenever she hears something that sounds like a bullwhip.....and that is why she never spanked me, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to stop if she ever started.) I called my mother at work nearly every day pleading with her to make him stop threatening me, it got to where he would take the phone so I couldn't get to it, when I did have it in my hands it would force him to be silent for a time... he never did hit me, but he backed me into rooms and corners, said the most horrible things to me, and constantly demanded I see to his needs (he was healthy as a horse, but just wanted to make me serve him). She told me that as often as I was calling, she thought I was being dramatic, it couldn't be that bad, especially since he was fine when she was home and she never heard a thing when I called. That was the day I stopped believing she was a hero and that she had my best interest at heart. That was a very bad day, one of my dear friends who I idolized killed herself the next week. I began spending all the time I could at the church, to escape. But what happens there is the stuff of Five & Six. My older, wilder cousin came to visit for a week. One day mom and I went to get ice cream and left her at the house with my grandfather for a short time. When we came back my mother walked in on a scene familiar to me, my cousin backed into a corner with my grandfather screaming over her, purple with whatever rage he got himself into, her crying hysterically with her arms over her head, his fists slamming into the wall on either side of her. My mother charged in, and confronted him... she screamed for me to go outside. I went outside, I still thought my mother was impervious to anything then.... Soon they came out into the garage, I was against the car in the drive, holding my stomach against my anxiety. My grandfather was backing my mom across the open space, and then finally he grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air. I started screaming.... and she kicked and popped him at the same time. He dropped her, she landed on her feet. He left... and never came back while we were there. She took care of my cousin, and eventually apologized to me for not believing me... but the damage was done. My grandfather was a monster, and there was no one left in my life to trust fully but me. We ended up living in someone's garage for quite some time after that... and lost everything in our storage room. My grandfather made sure of that. My childhood had been in that storage room. I didn't miss it at the time.

Five & Six: During all of this time at the church while trying to escape my grandfather, I think I had the glamour of the abandoned (if you've ever seen a puppy at the SPCA lying forlorn behind the wire of the fence or a kitten wandering skinny and dirty near a fast food dumpster, you know what I'm talking about). I was nicely tolerated among the youth group, which was very nice. I had two giant male friends who adored me. There was also this one guy who was sort of the bad boy of the group, of course I had a crush on him. I didn't tell my friends or anyone about my crushes anymore, I had already discovered that telling my best friend at the time meant she would pursue that person until she got them to kiss her. I had only been kissed once before, by a boy who swore I broke his heart. So I kept these things to myself. Oh the silly concerns of that age!!! My cousin came to visit and went sort of after this bad boy, but also sort of pushed me to do the same. Odd, but I was interested in being more worldly like she seemed. I've always been in a hurry to grow up. There used to be these movie watching parties at one of our youth group counselor's house on the weekends. After she left... everyone knew my life had gone to hell..... and at one of these this bad boy kissed me, with tongue. I didn't even know what to do. I was 12 at the time. I've forgotten. In the dark at one of these parties he... touched me. I was dressed in something I had hoped would look good, my cousin had told me to start dressing more that way.... I felt like I had sort of wanted it, but it scared me. This happened more than once, but not that many times. The first time was kissing, the second was kissing and holding me against the wall which scared me a bit, the third time I avoided him but he pulled me over when I went to get a glass of water and I went to sit near him at his insistence then.... later that night I pushed him away.. hands under my shirt and pressing his thigh between my legs, he pushed back. He even messed with me once on church property. He never did get under my undergarments though, I got more violent the one time he tried and that was at least the end of it. The whole thing messed with my head quite a bit though, because I felt dirty and afraid and like I was making a big deal out of nothing. But it made me get sick in the bathroom in this small apartment right after it went too far and I had tried to stop it sooner but failed. And everyone knew I had been sick in there. I was just praying none of them knew why. It was still one of the few moments in my life I've been truly embarrassed. After that this guy shunned me. I still wanted his attention, but not like that, and I said something to him once along the lines of can't we be friends but don't touch me or whatever and he laughed and just stopped speaking to me. He was almost 17. My male friends asked me about it, I didn't tell them then. They decided to hate him anyway. I did go and try to talk to my pastor about that and something else, he told me to stop hugging my male friends and leading them to impure thoughts..... Maybe if I had a DD rack and was a Lolita or something I could understand that response, but even then it would not be that girl's fault!! I was 12, going through puberty, dealing with some horrible things, and just wanted to not feel ashamed or confused and like it was my fault that I had upset this person and done something wrong in God's eyes. I think right there is where I get a ton of mental hang ups regarding flirting and feeling like once I've gone so far with someone I owe it to them to go even further, even if I change my mind. That bastard.

Seven: Walking out of a Walgreen's in Houston late at night with my best friend in college I saw a man wanking off in his van with the windows down in public. He was staring avidly around, looking at the women and the people. I calmly called the police, read off his plates, gave a description of the van (van again, haha, maybe this is why I would never own one).... and left. My best friend was oblivious to him. Turns out he was a serial rapist at large, and my call helped them put him away.... I was shocked, and so pleased!! I've been called 3 times about that one man, the last one to thank me one more time for both my testimony and my call. They hadn't had a lead on him at all, he had picked the three women they caught him on at random.

Eight & Nine & Maybe Ten: I've had sex and even a semi-relationship in my past because I felt like I had led someone on. I didn't really WANT them or want to do it with them or want to be with them or felt what they said they felt for me.... but I felt obligated to and like maybe if I did it I would feel something. I felt like with my words or actions or clothes or mannerisms I had made some promise I didn't actually make..... and I hate to break a promise.

I'm still jealous of Jodi (from the novel) and I still have an irrational desire to be a vampire or to just in some way be strong enough that I would never have to worry about my safety again. Mentally and physically. I don't feel particularly bad about myself because of these experiences, now anyway.... My fear of being alone with some people, of putting myself in possible 'harm's way' (hiking alone, etc.), has possibly saved me from further abuse but I also often feel stifled by these fears, and that's really what I dislike.

I'm not sure exactly what made me want to write about this today.......