Realizations and Bad Habbits

I made it back from the West Coast to Texas and thought I’d be free of Paul. I was pretty depressed of having to return home and being without a job. Recovering from an abusive relationship but not acknowledging that you were abused is a tough thing to push through. I allowed myself time to read, draw and do the things I wasn’t able to do while under Paul’s controlling leer. My Relationship with my family was rocky but they all expressed how happy they were that I was back.

First thing I did was continue my friendship with Spencer. He would be in town for a while longer until he went off to complete a film he was working on. He introduced me to Thomas. Thomas invited Spencer and myself over and Spencer got desperately drunk and started to sing and cry and talk about how much he hated his beautiful girlfriend. How she was manipulative and angry and evil and empty. I drove him home that night but he didn’t leave without kissing me. It was a drunk kiss that didn’t last long but it was a cry for help. I pulled away from Spencer and told him that as a friend i loved him very much and if he really felt this way about Brenda then he needed to break up with her.

Spencer had left his phone in my car so the next morning i had a million missed calls from Thomas. I called Thomas who relayed the information so I drove up to the burger joint not far from my house and returned Spencers phone to him. He hugged me and apologized for his drunken behavior to which I shook my head and told him it wasn’t a problem. A few Hours later Thomas called me and asked to take me on a date. I didn’t want to turn him down but I felt it was a bad idea. I politely declined saying I had plans that weekend. He fired back with when would be a good time. I said “to heck with it.” and told him Friday would work for me. I drove to his house and we took his car and drove for over an hour to a small town that had a very nice independent movie theater and a very nice town square. We watched that movie with Owen Wilson and Rachel McAdams, Midnight in Paris.

Afterwards we went and got gelato and walked around the square that had a huge fountain. We talked about his acting career and Spencers self destructive relationship. He talked about his family and asked about my relationship with the opposite sex and the type of friendships I had. He was charming, dark skin, dark hair, green eyes and dressed well. He was attractive and charming. By the time we were on our drive back home we had gotten into deeper topics and I confided in him the truth of my past relationships and how I didn’t make good choices when it came to men. They were either manipulative and crazy or I just got what i wanted from then and then they left or I left. He explained that he was seriously detatched from relationships and that’s why they never worked. (That was his way of telling me he didn’t want a relationship. He just wanted some ass.)

We went skinny dipping in his pool at his house. We made out and fooled around in his pool. He took me upstairs to his room and we had sex. It was not extraordinary. It was not mind blowing. It did however feel amazing to have mutual, consensual sex. We fell asleep in his floor wrapped in his sheets. The next morning I twisted my hair into a messy bun, put my clothes on, used some of the mouthwash in his bathroom, gave him a hug and he kissed me pretty passionately before I left. That week he went back to school in New York. I never heard from him again. I delted his number and decided to forget about him.

Truth is that was a HUGE wake up call for me. The next two weeks i spent trying to find a job I was actually loosing my mind because i realized the sex that i had had with Paul was not consensual and it was not right. I always thought as a “girl friend” I HAD to have sex with my boyfriend. It made me realize about Patrick and how I shouldn’t have laid silently on the couch and let him fuck me. I should’ve screamed for help and let my dad beat the shit out of him.I found a Job working at a craft store and one day while working the cash register a man walked up and laid a chocolate candy bar and an art pad on my register. When I looked up it was none other than Paul standing there and smiling at me.


Tail Between My Legs

I am an animal lover. When i hear the term or phrase “Running away with its tail between it’s legs.” I think of a scared or defeated animal. Probably hurt weather it was mental or physical. That is exactly what happened between me and my dad and why i put my tail between my legs and ran back to my abuser.

Where we left off last time (In my time line of mis-fortune in relationships.) I had left in the middle of the night to fly back to my boyfriend who i had every intention of leaving. Being there was a significant age difference it was difficult for me to communicate effectively with him. Often at times it felt as if i were communicating to my father… not in a good way. It was hard to relate to him at times and we disagreed a lot. I thought I knew Paul and understood him. He was honestly a stranger. I couldn’t have known less about him. I didn’t want to take anymore mental abuse from the environment with my parents, as a result I ran back to the stranger who hurt me in other ways.

Let me just say… I am TERRIFIED of planes. I don’t get on them unless it is crucial to my existence. (In this instance it was because i believed I had no where else to go.) Between being up all night before hand trying to decide weather to go back to Paul or not, being extremely emotionally spent from the fight with my dad, terrified of getting on a plane alone and going from one abuser to another, was not a good combination on my body. I hadn’t eaten in almost 48 hours either. By the time i got off the plane i was just happy to see the ground. Paul was there to pick me up and he drove me “home.”

I wasn’t feeling well and i remember unpacking and wanting to cry. The next day we went  to see his brother, Jason, which was a 35 minute drive. Paul lectured me the entire way there despite how sick I felt. I specifically remember that drive because a trooper pulled us over and Paul talked his way out of a fucking speeding ticket. I digress, we stayed there all day and left Jason’s after I had fallen asleep on the couch from Jet lag and being sick.

Paul had his tonsils taken out when he was extremely young so he never experienced strep throat or laryngitis or anything that affects the tonsils and makes you fucking miserable. He didn’t believe i was sick and told me to sleep it off despite the fact that i begged him to let me go to the doctor. He threatened me saying he would kick me out. I asked him to drive me and I would give him the money from my next paycheck and he said it would be a waste.

I went three days without taking any medicine and feeling like shit. On the third night Scarlet Fever had taken over and I began to hallucinate, I was talking nonsense, yet i don’t remember any of it. Paul said my body was hot and I wouldn’t stop sweating. He drug me to the balcony to get some fresh air. It was 40 something degrees outside so I began to seize from the temperature change. Paul had to carry me inside and finally called his mom and asked if he should call 911. I did not break my fever that night. The next morning I woke up unable to speak and Paul drove me to a care now facility.

I had developed scarlet fever from having untreated strep throat, and had pneumonia. I cried in the doctors office while away from Paul. I wanted to ask the Doctor for help… not just medically. I was unable to communicate seeing as I lost my voice so even if i did have the courage i wouldn’t have been able to. I was prescribed a bunch of medicine and they sent me home. Paul apologized profusely and told me he was afraid for my life. He was mad and said he hated me for scaring him like that. I felt distant from him after that. As an apology to me he went and adopted a kitten who i named Pumpkin. Pumpkin kept me company while Paul went out looking for a job since he had become unemployed.

When my mom called and I talked to her she cried and said she wanted to get away from my father and she hated him for driving me away. She begged me to come home. I told her about being sick and that Paul hadn’t taken me to the doctor and she cried while i reassured her everything was okay.

What was to come later that week I would have never expected would happen to me. I had experienced violence from Paul but not like this.

I Learn Lessons The Hard Way

Before the end of my junior year is when I met Patrick.  Patrick and I started dating after Zoe and I broke up. Patrick was a year older and graduated that year. We hit it off pretty well. He went out of his way to hang out wth me and spend time with me.

Patrick was an important chapter in my life but unfortunately I didn’t learn the MOST important lesson with him. I had to repeat the atrocity to really learn. 

Patrick was unlike any of the guys I dated. Skinny, scrawny, very intelligent and abusive. The abusive part didn’t start till after we had been together for a while. I’m not entirely sure how into detail I can allow myself on the subject. I love to believe I’m a stronger woman because of my experiences but I still to this day can not look at the couch in my mothers den without wanting to shed a few tears for my naive stupid 17 year old self. 

He was charming, went WAY out of his way to see me and hang out with me. Introduced me to a ton of his friends and I became apart of their circle. They respected Patrick. We smoked a lot together and fooled around in his pick up before school most mornings. He had my family fooled and loving him. 

The first time it happened (right after school was out for the summer before I turned 17) we were at a book store not far from Patrick and his friends neighborhood. I was in a skirt and in the book store Patrick tried to finger me in between one of the isles. I wasn’t really okay with that seeing as I didn’t want to get caught and although I’m quite the sex addict I don’t find public displays of THAT nature okay. Plus it was not discussed he just started to do it and I had to push him off and he got. Mad. Very. Very. Mad. 

We left the book store and were walking back to Luke’s house when I asked Patrick why he was mad and he turned around and punched me in my stomach. It knocked me off my feet and onto the sidewalk. He grabbed my face with his hand and sneered at me to never reject him to never disrespect him. “Next time will be worse.” 

Shocked and scared and very fucking confused I walked silently back and called my dad and asked him to come pick me up. He said he would. Patrick cried outside of lukes house while I waited for my dad to come get me. 

He cried and told me how sorry he was and to forgive him and he lost his temper and he’d never do that to me again. He begged me not to tell anyone. So I didn’t. That was awfully stupid of me.

Patrick told me about the college was accepted to and that he was going out of state. We had sex for the first time and he gave me his favorite tshirt. 

(I should mention after my trip to Santa Monica I started starving myself again and throwing up sometimes. I was spiraling out of control. So now this on top of that. My boyfriend leaving did not help anything.) 

So Patrick left and my senior year began. I hung out with Felicia more than ever. I skipped school. We starved together. We were pretty inseparable. I still hung out with Farrah and she helped me through a lot of my boy drama. 

My friend from the eating disorder clinic, October. She committed suicide in August. It devestated me. (I’ll write about that soon.) When I called and tried to talk to Patrick he was on his way to the beach and couldn’t talk to me. Shortly after in September my friend Preben was hit by a pick up while on his skateboard. (That’s another post for another day.) He didn’t last long in life support and died. Patrick was of no help and no where to be found. Never texted or called and when he did he was distracted. I needed someone and I felt alone. 

My friends did what they could but nothing helped. Neither did church. I had to go for a confirmation retreat over a weekend in October. You’re suppose to feel different and enlightened or something. All I felt was confused. Plus both Greg and Frank were there which did not help. Greg and I became closer friends though. I also thanked Kathleen for telling on me even though at the time before that I hated her for it. 

When she asked me if I was relapsing I lied and told her no. I didn’t want my secret told this time around.

I went back to school and talked to Ralph in my English class a lot. He smoked with me and I tried cocain with him. We became fast friends but even though I was attracted to him I never tried anything and neither did he. 

Patrick came home over break and even though I was mad I still wanted to be with him. His mom took us out to eat and when we went back to their house and we were alone in Patrick’s room he pinned me down and fucked me. I was terrified and excited by the experience. Although I never came, I was more frightened than anything else. 

When Christmas came around Patrick came back home but had been fighting with his family and had no where to stay so my family welcomed him into our home. He stayed with his friends a few nights but two nights before Christmas Patrick and I were in the den on the couch with my dad in the other room. We had a movie on. He had made me upset earlier that day.  (I don’t even remember what made me upset.) he went to kiss me and I turned my fave. Bad idea. His hand slapped over my mouth and he forced me face down into the couch. Before I knew it he was already on top of me.

Now. I still to this day don’t know why I didn’t make noise. Why I didn’t call for help. Why I lay there not moving through the pain. My dad was in the next room. He could’ve easily stopped it. But.. I didn’t. 

He apologized the next morning. I forgave him. He went to Christmas at my grandmas house and then he went to see his mom who then took him to the air port. It was awkward the time I was with him and after he went home he was distant and mean to me over text and phone. We fought constantly. 

I finally broke up with him at the end of January. He tried to commit suicide while I was at school one day and I had to call his mom from the councilors office. I cried so hard feeling responsible when I shouldn’t have felt a lick of remorse for him. It was just another manipulative move on his part. I was a wreck. It was a mess. I couldn’t seem to catch a break. Emotionally unstable I began cutting myself on top of starving. 

Then. The “knight in shining armor” swooped back into my life, you guessed it. Greg. He got me a Valentine’s present even though we weren’t dating and he talked to me on the phone at all hours of the night when id wake up from nightmares or couldn’t sleep. 

He was my number one supporter as far as men in my life. Felicia was on and off there for me and Farrah helped me as much as I allowed her to. My other friends felt like more of aquaintences. Before prom Padme came back into my life and I realize I left her out of my earlier posts but I’m kind of flashing through my high school years because my memory of it all isn’t the best and I’m not exactly proud of it all either.

Padme, she came back into my life via a letter through Facebook and it messed me up emotionally…. again.