I've been away for a while, reading mostly, but trying to get some perspective on all that's happened to me lately. Unfortunately, I haven't got any (altho I still try to help out folks here).
Today, I've had flashbacks to the events when I was almost murdered and threatened during sex acts. When my counselor tried to kill me the first time, there was almost something tender emotionally how he tried to make it seem that there was no choice, that he didn't want to. Sick huh? Then, when I was about to leave middle school, he kidnapped me off the Goddamn streets and raped me in a grave he supposedly dug for me and strangled me unconscious. And the guy who raped me with a gun. All I keep hearing is "I can kill you here and nobody will ever find you," "all you're good for is fucking," "nobody will miss you."
I don't believe that, but I know where my fears of dying alone come from.
I don't believe it, I don't, but I feel sometimes that they're right. I am worthless, that no one would miss me when I die, that perhaps if Mr. Price had held that pillow over my face for another minute, if he had strangled me for another minute, if he had finished burying me in the woods, if my goddamn adult rapist had pulled the f**king trigger, it would've been better for everyone.
Sometimes, there is no hope. There is no hope.
I have to keep searching for it. Those monsters left me with no hope, but I know there is hope. I truly believe what I wrote as my signature, the world is worth fighting for. If for no other reason than to prove those eveil f**kers wrong.
Afraid I'm backsliding into a depression. So afraid of what will happen if that's the case.
Thank God therapy's tonight.