Today was my first day off. I took a variety of extra sleeping pills last night and it worked like a charm. I slept all night and half the day. It was amazing. I ran around and busied myself doing a bunch of errands.
As occupied as I was, I still had so many bad moments I had to snap myself out of. I got really cold at one point and looked down and saw my scar was a dark purple color. It really stood out. Every time I see it, it brings me back there.
Another one of those times today, I got really lost in thought about my uncle. I imagined what it was like for him- to be sexually abused by his older brother, to tell people and to have no one believe him. No wonder he hated my dad and my family so much- people chose to put their trust in my dad over him. God…that’s got to be so incredibly difficult to swallow…that people don’t believe you were victimized and instead choose to believe the person who assaulted you. No wonder he committed suicide. I thought of this because I was thinking about the young girl who was raped last weekend. I’ve been talking with her nonstop, keeping tabs on how she’s doing and where the police are in their investigation. She told me her parents doubted her at first. I was shocked. Why in the world would a parent doubt their child when they say they’ve been raped?? It wasn’t until the hospital examination revealed physical proof that she was penetrated and wounded. She told me she thinks her parents doubted her because they knew she was sexually active. But when you say no (and she did) and when you tell your parents that…. why the hell would they need to be convinced?!?
That has been pissing me off for days now. Like REALLY PISSING ME OFF.
I never told my mom- not until over a decade later. And then she admitted she knew all along and did nothing to help. That’s the betrayal I have to deal with. My uncle had to deal with his mom choosing to protect her other son over him. This girl’s parents didn’t believe her until the results of the exam came back. This makes me sick. All of this makes me so disgusted.
I don’t want to detract from her pain in any way, but it’s been super painful for me to hear her go through details. I’m doing it for her- so she can vent. But God, it’s killing me. I cried once right in front of her. I just couldn’t hold it together.
I’m worried about her. Obviously.
And I’m here, trying to keep my mind occupied so it doesn’t go down a dark road. I’m eating my feelings. I’ve gained sooooo much weight over these last few months that I’m completely disgusted with myself. I’m gross. But I can’t stop eating. It’s my fault. I just can’t stop. When I’m alone (which is always) and I start to think bad things, I decide to get food. It distracts me and makes me temporarily happy. If I live through this, I’ll surely be obese.
Haven’t had a migraine in 2 days now. That is awesome. One started to come tonight, but it went away.
I wish. I wish I didn’t have to deal with my history and who my dad was. I wish my uncle was never assaulted. I wish he didn’t commit suicide, but I certainly understand why he did. I wish I didn’t come from this family and have these parents. But you can’t choose your mom and dad. Isn’t it God who chooses that for you? So why would he do this? Why would he choose to give me a dad who would sexually abuse me? Is that a loving God? Why would he choose to give me a mom who didn’t stand up for me? Why? I just don’t see how God is supposed to be a loving and protective “Father” when he orchestrates things like that. I just don’t understand.
I’m so confused by this and have been for over a year now- maybe it’s been 2 years? I don’t know and I don’t care. I just don’t get it. It pisses me off. I’m trying not to be an angry person. But I just don’t understand.