The Weight of Burdens
Before I started this blog I decided that I wanted to make my story and Journey public because I was hoping to help someone else. I promised to share the good, the bad, and the ugly of my Journey. For the last 2 years I have been keeping a secret from everyone in my life, including all of you. 2 years is too long to remain silent yet again. I don't want to carry this any longer.
When your love life, more like the total disaster of your love life, complete with its myriad losers, assholes and total mother fuckers, becomes the punchline of your life it is very difficult to admit that it happened again. How could it have happened again? How could I have chosen so wrong again? How could I have been so stupid, weak and unable to fight back? How could I have (fill in the blank about how incredibly stupid I was)? Now is the time to start forgiving myself. Now is the time to start loving myself the way that I love everyone else...the way that I love all of you who have been with me so far on this Journey. In order to start doing these things I have to say it out loud. I have to release the burden that gets heavier with each passing second. 2 years is far too long and this secret, this burden, is dragging me down to a place I no longer want to be.
So here I stand, again. Opening up my soul to rid it of a secret that can no longer be contained inside my being. 2 years ago I met someone I thought was a good man. I couldn't have been more wrong. He was the worst kind of person (You think I could recognize this by now). He knew my history and the trauma that came from being raped. He told me that he would wait for me to be ready. He lied. He knew I wasn't ready. He knew I was the furthest thing from ready. Knowing that, he did the logical thing for any scumbag, he locked the door, held me down and forced himself on me. I didn't have any fight left in me. I told myself that this wasn't rape. It couldn't have been rape because knowing it happened once was devastating enough, there is no way I could handle it happening again. To make matters worse, I very quickly found out that he didn't use a condom. I got in the shower afterward, curled up in a ball and cried. I was on the birth control pill, but taking an antibiotic that weakens the effects of the pill. Until that night I had never had unprotected sex.
A few weeks later I had been expected my period, but it never came. I began to panic. I bought a few pregnancy tests and the first one came back inconclusive. I took another one the next day and had the same result. A few days later it was confirmed. I was pregnant. I was terrified, upset, and devastated. This was forcing me to revisit things that I wanted to forget about, namely the son of a bitch that was responsible. How could I go through with a pregnancy that came from such circumstances? I am pro-choice. I knew what my options were. I also knew that I had always wanted to be a mom. What if this was my last chance to be a mom? The fear turned into calm and happiness, I was going to be a mom and the baby would never know who his biological father was. He would be loved unconditionally. Unfortunately, no sooner did I accept and want this baby did I have a miscarriage. As I have written before, it was the worst, most helpless feeling imaginable. 2 years later, it is a pain and grief I still live with each day.
These last few months have been very difficult. I have fallen into a deep depression, had panic attacks, anxiety attacks and PTSD episodes. It has been a tough road and I have basically retreated inward to try and work it all out. That is why I haven't been writing much recently. In about a week, I will be going to the one place that has given me peace...Italy. I am hoping that by ridding myself of this burden I will be able to regroup in Italy, gain perspective and come back energized and centered. I will take everything peaceful, exciting and good in, thus expelling all of the poison that has been taking hold of me for the last 2 years. One step at a time, right?