Lost And Ashamed
I have so much I need to get out and I don't know where else to go. I can't talk to my friends or family because I'm so ashamed. I've tried talking to God but I can't do that either; I feel dirty and so unworthy. I feel like I'm so far gone that even He can't save me. The thoughts I have scare me and I know a child of God couldn't think like this. I'm so scared and lonely. I hate nights. There's so much time to think. I miss being able to sleep - just sleep. It's been a year since I was raped; I don't know what's wrong with me. I should be over this by now. I hate myself for being so weak; crying is weak and I cry every night. I didn't think things could get worse than last semester; I've made such great progress since then, but I'm slipping back there now. It was terrible. I didn't want to see anyone I loved because I felt so dirty and ashamed. I just wanted to be drunk all the time - it made everything so much easier and allowed me to forget. I hated walking around campus because I felt like everyone could see how disgusting I am; everyone was always staring at me. I stopped going to my classes and didn't study anymore because I knew I wouldn't be here by the time finals came around. I didn't care about living anymore. I remember planning out what I was going to do, but deciding to wait until after Thanksgiving so I could see my family one last time.
My nine year old sister is what stopped me. The night before I came back to college, I layed down next to her while she was sleeping and cried all night. Looking at how beautiful and innocent she is, I hated myself so much. I felt so dirty being so close to her, but I just wanted to hug her tight and never let go. I don't want to die, I just want to be somewhat happy. I want to be able to look in a mirror without disgust. I want to be thinner; I want to be empty. It wouldn't solve anything but at least I'd finally have a little respect for myself. It would show me I was strong in one way even if I'm so weak in everything else. I love the control it gives me. That's what has gotten me through. I eat just so I can throw it up. I don't want food; it disgusts me. But I force myself to eat so I can throw up and finally feel good, it's like a high; I'm strong and in complete control, even if just for a second. I want to care about myself again.
I hate him for taking me away. I hate myself for letting him take me away. 2 years ago I was beaten and choked by a good friend who decided he wanted to be more than friends. He tried to rape me, but I got away. It still haunts me, but I was able to move on and be thankful I got away. With the next guy, I didn't, and I hate myself for it. I should have left his house when I started feeling weird. The thought of opening my eyes and seeing him on top of me telling me to be quiet terrifies me. I was so out of it but I could feel him. He said it was what I wanted and nothing could stop him. He said I could never tell because my boyfriend would break up with me. Everytime I told him to stop he just told me to quit fighting because his door was locked and no one could save me. He lay next to me and played with my hair but he wouldn't let me move. He said I just needed to sleep and I would feel better in the morning. But one drink shouldn't make me feel like that. I was so confused and he wouldn't stop touching me. I just cried until I fell asleep. I woke up in the middle of the night and started walking back to my dorm. I wished more than anything someone would just pick me up and take me away forever. I was so ashamed of myself and I didn't want to face anyone because I felt so dirty and disgusting. I decided not to tell anyone because if I didn't admit it happened then maybe I could forget it and make myself believe that it never did.
It worked for a while. Now my parents and best friend know and it's made it so much harder. I know they think I'm so stupid for letting this happen twice. I don't want to feel anything anymore. I want to be numb. I stole some of my mom's pills last time I went home so I could sleep. I also took some leftover bottles of vicodin. I loved the feeling. I was alive and content, something I havne't felt in a long time. I miss that. I didn't want to have sex until I was engaged, but that doesn't matter anymore. I don't see the point now; I've already ruined everything. I rely on my eating disorder as my only source of control. I feel so accomplished and strong if I make it 3 days without food. I've turned to alcohol again and I don't care what happens to me because I feel like my body doesn't belong to me anymore; it belongs to whatever ******* is going to come along next. It used to be God's body that I respected and loved. But I can't belong to God anymore. God is pure and beautiful and I am anything but that. I have so many scary thoughts going through my head but I can't tell anyone I love because they will freak out and lock me up in some mental institution. I'm not insane. I just need help -God's help. I need Him to save me but I don't know how to find him because I'm too ashamed to even open my Bible. I just want to be able to care about myself and my life again.