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About this blog

Don't expect many happy stories. Honestly I need somewhere I can write my fears, my cries, my struggles and yes sometimes my accomplishments. Somewhere I know I won't be bashed or hated or blamed or told to suck it up. So if you wanna read, well I hope something in here helps you. 


Entries in this blog


To whom it may concern,

I sort of have this secret that no one knows about me but it's something that really bothers me and that is honestly a huge part of my depression. Seven years ago, when I was raped, I got pregnant. I was a 13 year old who was pregnant. Here's the kicker. I didn't know I was pregnant until a week later when I got really bad pain in my stomach and went to the bathroom and found blood and stuff. It scared me but I was smart enough to know not to go to my parents. They are very religious and would have disowned me...

So instead I told my mom I felt weird, I was throwing up and wanted to go to the hospital cause it was night time and all the clinics were closed and I just needed the pain to go away right now. She dropped me at the door and told me to call her when I was done. I knew she wouldn't come with me. I went to the nurse, who I knew because I was in the hospital quite a lot (heart problems) and told her I needed her help as soon as possible. It was an emergency and I couldn't tell my parents. She was a friend and promised she wouldn't say anything. I may have lied to her about how I got pregnant but the point is she knew what my parents would do if they found out. 

She thought it was strange a relatively healthy young girl would have a miscarriage so she ordered a full pelvic exam, which I hated of course, blood work, the works. I was told a few days later that I not only had a low egg count...which made it next to impossible to get pregnant in the first place, but my uterus was malformed. It would never form. It's this weird defect. In a span of a few weeks, I was raped, I lost my first child, and I was told I could never be a mother. 

 To this day it makes me feel so empty inside. I feel broken. The primal reason for my existence is to pop out babies. It's what women are made for. I can't even do that. To this day, I morn my unborn child.

I imagine sometimes it would have been a baby girl. Blond hair, blue eyes, named Alora. I always loved that name. She would have the cutest laugh and a smile that would brighten the whole world. I imagine teaching her piano and painting with her and dancing with her in the middle of Wal-Mart like a crazy person haha. 

But then I start to imagine how her life really would have been like...

Not the fantasy I want but the reality of the world. A disowned 13 year old with no home or money, trying to raise a little baby that depends solely on me. And let's say I did that. I managed to find a job, an apartment, maybe my brother took me in for a few months...what about when she gets older. What happens when she asks me who her father is. What happens if I were to look at her and see him. Dark hair and green eyes and a smirk that sends shivers down my spine....I would love her unconditionally but a small part of me would be scared of who she would become, how she would feel, how she would react if she knew how she came to be my daughter. 

 A part of me is glad that child would never get to live that life. Knowing your father raped your mother and that's why your here. The pain it could have brought her...hurts me even now to think about it. 

Anyways, there it is folks, my darkest secret. The time I almost had a beautiful baby and instead found out I would never have one.

Sincerely yours,



Again. Almost.

To whom it may concern,

I know it seems impossible, improbable but I must attract horrible experiences. Maybe I did something in a previous life. Maybe I was a murderer. Possibly Jack the Riper. Seems to be fitting punishment if I was. 

Last night, I had a migraine. Usually, cold air helps so I decided, like an idiot, to go out for a walk around 2 am. Stupid, right? I was just heading back home, another 20 min and I would be in my house, warm and safe but that future was not in the cards for me I suppose. I didn't even hear anyone behind me or anything. I was preoccupied by the throbbing in my head so my breath was sorta knocked out of me when I got pinned against a wall, punched in the stomach. 

When I managed to yell, he decided he would choke me. Called me a stupid bit*h over and over and over again. I almost blacked out and a part of me thought "If I just fall asleep, it'll be over when I wake up." but another part of me didn't want to know how this ended or why I was pinned or why he was chocking me. I just wanted to get out of there. I mustered up the last bit I had and pretended to reach for his face so he was preoccupied when I kneed him as hard as I could and caught my breath. I kicked him a few more times when he hit the ground and I ran. All the way home. I passed out in bed and woke up in the morning.

I have spots all over my face. Internet says it's blood vessels that have popped. Apparently it happens sometimes if you've been choked. I also have bruising on my neck that sorta looks like his hands around my neck and a bruise on my stomach where he punched me. I'd show you the scars but I'd rather stay anonymous. I don't want to go to the police or explain why I was out at 2 am. I don't wanna be pegged as a girl who was asking for it. I don't need that. 

But because I am afraid he might do it to someone else....I asked around, found out his name, pulled a few strings with some cop friends I have and they will be keeping a close eye on him and making it very well known. 

Feels like I attract shitty people.

I told my boyfriend. He hadn't slept last night so although he's concerned, he's sorta in and out with the whole support thing. I think he doesn't know what to say and I don't blame him. I couldn't ask for more. I wouldn't want to. He's great and just because I was stupid doesn't mean he needs to come to my rescue haha. 

Anyways, that's all I got for now. 




Seven years

To whom it may concern,

I am sure I have mentioned this before but I want to re-examine what's going on and write it all down. Seven years. It has been seven years since it happened. Since he hurt me. It's actually going to be eight years this year. 

I read a post a few months ago that said;

Today in science class, I learned every cell in our entire body is replaced every seven years. How lovely it is to know, one day I will have a body you will never have touched.

I found that poetic seeing as my seven year...anniversary of sorts would be coming up quite soon. When it finally had..I thought I would feel relief. I thought I would feel better. I thought my body would have been cleansed in some way. Like he had never done what he did. But that was when I realized, he hadn't just hurt me physically, he had scared me...ruined me...mentally as well. I realized he had a hold on me that no amount of dead cells could change. He had taken away my sense of safety, intimacy, my sense of beauty in the world. He had made me into the pessimistic asshole I am today.

Today, no matter how stupid it sounds, I have decided that I won't let him win. I will smile. I will laugh. I will find love. I will have kids. I will have create a life for myself that he will never be able to ruin. He will never ruin me again.

Sincerely yours,





The rain.

To whom it may concern,

Have you ever stood outside in the rain, looked up and just felt the rain fall on your face, felt the drops roll down your skin? I'm sure a lot of you have cried, of course everyone has at one point or another, but I mean really cried. The kind of crying where you can feel your entire soul reaching out. The kind of crying where you feel knots in your stomach and a relief when it's over. Like it has given you a chance to start over. Not like it really is a clean slate but more like...those tears have been pilling up for so long and are so happy to be released. 

I feel that sometimes when I am standing in the rain. A sense of relief. A sense of brief calm. It's raining outside right now. I wanna just stand out there bare and close my eyes with my head up to the sky, taking in every drop that hits my body. I know this all sounds weird but somehow, it makes me feel like I will be okay. Like it's the worlds tears falling on me. Like I am not the only one who needs that kind of release. 

Do you love the rain? Does it make you hurt? Remind you of something you'd rather forget? I'd like to know what you think of it. How it makes you feel. I really would. Weather you want to comment or pm me...that's up to you. I like having people tell me how they see the world. It intrigues me.

I see the world a certain way, a way I struggle to explain to others. So learning more about others helps me explain it.

My favorite part of rain is the smell. The smell of rain is so salty and fresh. I know their are so many chemicals and such in the water these days it's not like those rain drops truly are purity but somehow it smells that way. It feels that way. It looks that way. 

I feel like a cloud in a sense. I collect emotion and anger and sadness over the course of days, sometimes months, sometimes years but there comes a day where I need to release all of those feelings and they come out as water from my eyes. Sometimes it's just a light drizzle. A little water for the flowers. Something everyone needs. The other times it goes on for days. Like I haven't let go in so long and it just won't stop and suddenly....I've flooded the world with too much of a good thing. Sometimes it's a storm. A furious storm that doesn't just rain...it destroys everything in it's path with no regard for others. 

Depends on how long I've been holding it in for. 

Sincerely yours,




My Depression

To whom it may concern,

I've been sitting here, staring at this screen for over five minutes. I'm not sure what to write. I feel low. I feel myself slipping more and more these past few days. I was on top of the world with a man who loved me a few days ago. I was finally feeling okay and starting to believe I was more then just a victim. More then just this piece of shit no one bothers to even look at. 

Today, I feel like every inch of my physical pain is just what I deserve. I...am just...I don't know. I feel pretty empty. Unfeeling. Just completely done...I want to talk to my boyfriend but I have no energy or will to pick up that phone. I want to scream from the roof top and beg for help but...I don't wanna make a scene. I don't wanna bother anyone. 

Let's get one thing straight, although I do believe my death would just be another day and wouldn't truly affect anyone's life, I don't want to hurt myself. I won't hurt myself. I am not going to end my own life. I am not able to do that. Although others might not miss me, I would miss them. There are so many people I wanna see grow and be the people I know they can be! My sister recently got accepted to medical school. She wants to be a forensic anthropologist. She's only 17! My brother just had a baby last year and his wife has gone back to school to be a teacher! I wanna see them succeed because they deserve to. My boyfriend is getting physical therapy for his back injury and will soon be able to work again. There's so much I wanna live to see. 

That doesn't mean I don't feel empty and dead inside. That doesn't mean I can help closing myself off to the world. It feels like here is the only place I can still manage to communicate but I apologize if that changes. I can't go on Facebook or on my phone or even watch TV anymore. I just want to crawl into a ball and sleep away the days. But I won't. I have to work and I can't call in sick again though I do feel very sick. My stomach hurts, my head is pounding like you wouldn't believe and my neck and back feel like I may never stand again. I know I will be fine though. A few muscle relaxants, a few pain meds, maybe a shot of vodka...actually, scratch the alcohol. I will not be turning into my uncle who solves everything with alcohol and medication. But I'm still taking those meds. I need them to be able to make it through work tonight. Please don't judge me... 

Sincerely yours,




Decided I would now start these entries with the following;

To whom it may concern,

I started seeing someone. Someone I care very much about. He makes me smile. I even went off my depression meds for a few days because he was around and all I feel when he's around is happiness and safety. I'm afraid though. He is so amazing. He has a child, he is faithful, smart, funny, caring. He takes interest in me like no one ever has. We have a lot in common but not everything and even the things he doesn't quite understand about me, he tried to. My love of libraries, for example. I had the audacity to mention that a library we had passed was beautiful and I would love to spend hours in there just prowling the bookshelves and reading every book I could before they kicked me out. He smiled and on our way back home, he stopped at that same library and encouraged me to go ahead and get excited. To prowl the shelves and speak my mind. He took a small detail I had simply mentioned in passing and turned it into this amazing adventure through a gigantic library. I have never been happier. 

I wonder when it will all come crashing down.

He says I have nothing to fear. He says he won't leave. He says I am everything he has ever wanted and that I may have flaws, but he loves them too. I voiced my concerns through a quote by William Shakespeare;

You say you love the rain, but you open your umbrella.

You say you love the sun, but you find a shadow spot.

You say you love the wind, but you close your windows.

This is why I am afraid, you say you love me too.

To which he responded;

Well, I love the rain, so lets kiss in a storm.

I love the sun, so lets find a beach.

I love the wind, so lets fly a kite.

I love you, so lets do it all together.


Is it possible I have found someone who truly loves me? Who wants to protect me from myself? Who thinks I have worth where others see nothing? Someone who takes my smallest fears and frees me of them? I truly hope so. I am trying to hold myself afar. I don't want to get overly involved in case he hurts me like everyone else. In case he expects more of me then I am able to give. I don't want to hurt him...but maybe I should leave now. Before he finds out why I am truly afraid...

Sincerely yours,




I got moxy

So I thought things with my family were getting better. Then suddenly I realized it would never change. It never had. I was always the black sheep. I've been called a liar, a cheat, a thief, a fat w**re. All of the above. Yesterday I was playing catch with my siblings, whom I don't speak to often, the ball was light up blue and red so I said it looks like cop lights...they said it was something I must be familiar with. Implied I was some kind of criminal. My mother found out I was being pegged as a prostitute in high school so she told me if i stopped wearing those shorts I might not be seen as such a w**re. I told her I was comfortable with my body and had even been hit on like twice in one day...my mother told me it was because they saw me as easy because of my weight. 

Well I'm not fat. I'm 160 pounds of pure gorgeous. I'm not a w**re. I'm a girl who has DD boobs that can't be hid behind any shirt and a pretty face that some people notice. I'm not a felon. I like tattoos and heavy metal music and I shaved half my head. But you wanna know why I don't believe those statements about me anymore? Because I had to hear it from about 100 people, more then a hundred times and to be frank, I still believe my mother. But I also know that a shit ton of people don't. Those people have only lifted me up while my mother has only put me down. 

I don't care what she says. I care that their are people who love me. For my smile, my laugh, my jokes, my stories, my shyness, my intelligence, my moxy. And that's enough for me.Snapchat-878631475.jpg



So I get chronic migraines. They're painful and horrible and I can barely move when I get them. I can't stand light, I over heat, and i throw up a lot. It's truly terrible. And I'm currently experiencing one. The only remedy I have is sleep and for some reason I can't sleep. It's stupid. 

I know it sound silly but I blame him for my migraines. Hell I blame him for every horrible thing wrong with my body. I know it's not his fault but so many things are, why not stack on migraines. 

The irony is I hate sleep cause all I dream of is him and what happened. Even though it was 7th years ago. And yet I find myself praying for sleep at moments like these. When the pains to much.

Anyone got any good ways to stop a migraine?


Well, I'm still awake. Haven't slept all night. You know, I always figured that by now I'd have my shit together and be done worrying about this stuff. I gotta head to work in a bit but I figured if I'm gonna be honest with myself I had better write it down. Otherwise I know I can't face shit I got going on. Hell, I can barely face myself most days.

This morning should be simple. Go buy smokes, go to work, come home, tell myself I'll clean after my nap, then just lay in bed staring at the ceiling till the next morning. I think I'm actually gonna clean up today though. Haven't done dishes in days.

Anyways, time for work so wish me luck. Hopefully I don't break down over the stupidest thing.


My story

Hey there. If you're reading this, it's because you've been through something horrible. Like me. I was told telling your story is apparently suppose to help. So here goes. 


I was 13. I come from a very strict, religious household. Around 13, I was still a little nerd who only wanted to read Shakespeare and save the world through music. Hell, a part of me still is that girl. Point is, it was almost my 14th birthday and truthfully I had never disobeyed my parents but you know how that goes. I was just turning into a teen. I was questioning my parents (with good reason) so when I got invited to a high school party by my friend, I decided I was gonna rebel. I regret that decision to this day. 

I snuck out. I went to the party. My friend disappeared with her boyfriend. I met an older man. He seemed nice. Talked about Shakespeare. I obviously trusted too quickly. 

Gave me a drink

I got dizzy

I woke up, looking at the stars. I realized I was in front of the side door to my house. Without pants on. He zipped his fly...kissed me on the cheek...and said he had a "great time" but if I valued my life I'd keep quiet. So when I finally got the strength to stand, I went inside....

I snuck in

I cleaned up

I ignored it.