This is a diary about me, about my life, and about the abuse that I suffered. I write not for pity or attention. I write to find my voice and shed light on issues that are too often kept locked away in darkness, deep in the minds of their victims. I have held my secrets for too long, so I share them with you now, both friends and strangers so I can ease some of the weight that i carry on these shoulders.
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Thursday, January 9, 2014
Tired of seeing this, here i'm letting it out.
There's this memory that has been popping into my head for years. I'm a young girl, maybe a teenager. I'm crying, loudly wailing and begging for something but i don't know what I am begging for. The memory is so vivid that i feel like i can hear myself crying here now. Every time i think of it i feel like something important was taken from me or i lost something i wanted. That stomach sinking feeling takes over and i don't understand. I dream and i see myself pregnant and losing a baby or having the baby and when i awake i am searching the bed looking for my baby because the dream just felt so real. Why was I so obsessed with the idea of being pregnant as a young teenager? Why did i put pillows under my shirt then sit and cry and not know the reasons behind it? Did i get pregnant among all that abuse? If that's real, how could i forget something like that? What kind of person forgets something that big? Why was i crying and begging so much for a baby that would not have even been wanted? I would have had a monster growing in my belly. I feel like i can't know what happened. This is to much.
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