Not The First Time I've Talked About This...As I said, i've had to talk about this many times before hand. I've been pushed into endless sessions with therapists that refuse to hear the whole story. Teachers badgering me when I refuse to go to the session then forcing me to tell them what's wrong. I'm going to try and include as much detail as I can, people might get a better understanding of what's going on then.
I started seeing a guy, from the cadet force that I was part of, when I was about 12 or 13. It seemed like a really good relationship. We both liked each other and seemed to be the perfect match. There was a bit of an age gap, he was 17 at the time. Nearly 18. I didn't think it mattered, there was 14 years between my grandparents. Anyway, after about six months of being together, he started getting angry with everyone that came near him. Everyone except me. I thought that, some how, i'd managed to get through to him and make a decent enough connection for him to trust me like that.
It went on for ages, just me and him with no one else around. That's when he started getting a little aggressive with me. Nothing worthy of a break up. If he got upset or angry then he'd shout or slam doors. After he was aggressive he was always very apologetic and upset with himself.
There was one day that I was the cause for his aggression. Which wasn't exactly great. He decided that he wasn't going to wait for me to have sex with him anymore. It annoyed me that he bung it up, as I was watching Pokemon at the time. I told him that I wasn't prepared to sleep with him until I was, at least, 15. He got angry and I tried to get out of his way, but he grabbed me and started getting abusive. That's the day that he decided that raping me was the best way forward for our relationship.
After that, I couldn't go out in public. He'd started following me around in public. Following me to and from school. Hanging around inside the school grounds. He was always texting me and threatening to kill me. My science teacher noticed, one day, that I was looking out of the window an awful lot and couldn't concentrate. She asked me what was wrong, so I showed her the text messages. I couldn't tell her everything, as much as I wanted to just break down and cry about it to someone. Anyone who would listen. She was amazing about it all though. She did everything she could. The police and the child protection officer weren't as good. Apparently there wasn't enough proof and I was clearly just doing it for attention.
That's when I started cutting myself. I felt like I couldn't trust anyone. Everyone was out to get me in my eyes. It was nothing at first, just a few scratches up my arm. No one even noticed. Then I found some medical scalpels in my dads toolbox. (He makes model planes...) So I decided to take a few and see if they worked any better. They did. A cleaner cut, easier to handle, wouldn't raise any suspicion with my parents. So, it went from a few small cuts to huge, deep cuts up and down my arms, legs and hips. It wasn't healthy.
Thus began the therapy sessions. I went to the first 4. I didn't like it, so I stopped going. I couldn't handle being around other people who hurt themselves. As bad as it sounded, I felt out of place. These people cut themselves because they'd broken up with someone or because a relative had died. One guy even claimed to do it to make his girlfriend 'Proud' of him. I can understand a few of those reasons. As soon as I had to tell people why I cut myself, I told them i'd broken up with an abusive boyfriend (which was half true), they all looked stunned and a few started crying. I was so annoyed that they had the nerve to cry about my problem. They didn't even know the whole story and they were crying. I hadn't cried once about it, i'd kept it all to myself because no one would believe me. No one believed that the guy even existed, why would they believe that he had raped me. In my opinion, if I hadn't cried over it then they had no right to.
After I stopped going to these sessions, I went back to the science teacher that I mentioned earlier. She was more than happy to talk to me and listen to me complain about anything and everything. I stopped cutting for about a month, with her support. Then the child safety officer found out that I was talking to her instead of a therapist. She then threatened her job if she carried on talking to me. So that support was cut off completely. So I went back to cutting myself. I just couldn't handle being alone through it all.
The hardest thing about it all, this happened three years ago and I'm still suffering because of it. I can still hear him calling me useless and a ****. I still wake up from nightmares and I still can't stay at other peoples houses without checking all the windows and doors before I go to sleep. My friends, the ones I have left, think I'm crazy. I pass it off as my OCD acting up, if they knew then maybe they'd be a little bit more considerate.
Sorry for rambling on and on. I really did need to get this all off my chest though, hopefully to some people who can actually relate.