The road so far… part 2

If you missed part 1, you can find that here. It details everything up until this point.

So far, we’ve been through an abusive and traumatic home life, multiple surgeries, an (at that time) undiagnosed genetic disorder, and a whole slew of other issues. I’m battling with horrible depression, anxiety, insomnia, ptsd, and surgical recovery, all while trying to be a teenager and find my place in the world. Like I said, I was not having an easy time by any means.

At this point, I’m 16 and in 11th grade. I’d been with my then boyfriend for around a year, and I was just in a dark place all around. I was suicidal, I didn’t give a shit about what I did or the consequences, I started drinking (a lot), withdrawing from all of my friends, cutting, anything I could do to escape the pain I was in, I tried. (Side note: numbing yourself with copious amounts of alcohol and self harm doesn’t actually make anything better.)

On top of that, and what I didn’t realize at the time, was that the relationship I was in was actually incredibly abusive. He was the first person I’d been with in any significant was sexually, so I didn’t know (or didn’t care, hello zero self worth) that things were seriously messed up.

I thought that it was fine if I said “no” repeatedly..over and over…every single time. I really just thought I wasn’t saying it good enough, or bold enough, or that I didn’t push him off me hard enough, or that I could’ve stopped it if I tried harder, done something different, that it was all on me. He began to learn that if he gave me alcohol (which I willingly accepted), things went a lot better for him and I fought less. So he’d drive me home from school every day. He always kept alcohol in his car for me, and he’d get what he wanted from me.

Every time. Every day. I hated it. I felt used and dirty and like I was only good for one thing. And I didn’t want it or like it. It caused me pain, physically and emotionally. I started crying every time after it happened after a certain point. This went on for 3 years, guys. 3 years of being used, sexually abused, and taken advantage of.

But he served a purpose for me too. He paid attention to me. Whether it be positive or negative attention, at least someone needed me for something, paid attention to me and saw me. In a world where all I saw was pain and I was neglected everywhere else, I tried to convince myself that this was love. I did love him, at the time I needed to. I needed someone. He used me, he hurt me, he cheated on me. It ended up with me getting pregnant at 17. And that ended very violently with me having absolutely no say in what came next. A baby that I very much wanted was ripped from me in ways that I don’t ever want to think about again.

I attempted suicide 6 weeks later. We broke up (he left me) and I continued to spiral downward.

Like I said….it was a lot. A lot has happened to me, and I’m still suffering the consequences of my traumatic past. That’s what cpstd will do to you.

The story isn’t over, far from it.