When I was a little girl I was constantly alone. My real dad, who I have learned is most like me, left when I was two years old. My mom married when I was 4 to a man that I still don’t get along with, which I think says something about how my childhood went. Anyways back to the constantly alone thing, my mom bought a catering company when I was 8, and she worked at the catering company 80+ hours a week from the time she bought it, to after she sold it, which was when I graduated from high school. I graduated high school at 17. I had began drinking and smoking pot when I was 14, never really stopped. I had a few really close friends. I moved four hours away from for college. I missed them a lot and became home sick.
I came home for Thanksgiving and refused to go back. My parents told me that I couldn’t live with them, since I wasted their money on an education that I never took advantage of. I found out I was pregnant February 19, 2010. I was a very promiscuous teenager so it wasn’t really a surprise that I was pregnant at 18. I thought that sex was the only way to make boys like me, boy was I wrong. I had my Lillian in October of 2010, which was when it all became a lot more complicated.
I fell into the postpartum downward spiral when Lilly was about six months old. Things have never been the same. My mom took over my parenting responsibilities about this time and she to this day has a better connection with my little one then I do. I got my first apartment in August of 2012, Lilly came to live with me. After a few short weeks I broke down, I couldn’t do it. Lilly moved in with my mom. A year later I started working and only saw my little bean once in a while. My mental health at this point was pretty rough, depression, reared its ugly head, and I began self medicating and my rage began. I can no longer control my rage, when someone tells me something I don’t want to hear I fly off the handle, mostly in public places, I have been kicked out of Sprint, the Social Security Office, and several grocery stores.
On September 11, 2013 I met the man who would ultimately make my life hell. On November 2, we decided to “run away.” We went to Las Vegas. Las Vegas was where he lost his mind. He forced me to begin prostituting and he started blowing Meth smoke in my face. Meth was a drug I never would have done if I had never met him. We started smoking Meth and I was selling myself in order to get money for drugs. We lived in my car. We decided to drive to my real dad’s place in Northern California, we were still smoking Meth and we were stealing to make sure we had food in our bellies. The sexual abuse began in California. He started raping me. The emotional abuse had been going on since we got to Vegas.
The physical abuse also started in California. I was so lost, I didn’t know who I was, and I didn’t know how to get away from this. We drove to Texas to where his family lived, I got swine flu and left him in Texas and drove home to Colorado. I drove 16 hours by myself with Swine flu. I got away from him and thought I had freed myself. I decided to give him another chance after he had admitted what he had done and he really seemed like he had changed. He came back to Colorado and we moved in to my friend’s house. In the beginning he was different. He was really sweet and he was taking care of me since I had just had surgery. Then he changed back to the same old Ronnie. He got even worse, the physical attacks happened more often, I wasn’t allowed to leave the room without him, I couldn’t even take my phone into the bathroom with me because he was scared I would call for help. He molested my daughter and I found out about it and broke down to the police. I told them of everything he had been doing and now he is going to rot in community corrections. My mental health declined, badly. I began drinking A LOT. I started partying and doing everything I could to keep my thoughts at bay. I even started using Meth on my own accord. I couldn’t find myself and still have issues with my own identity. I feared being alone to the point that I would have panic attacks. On September 19, 2014, a year after we got together and 6 months to the day after I found out he molested my daughter, I attempted suicide and slit my wrists and my throat. I walked away with 17 stitches and spent 5 days in a psych hospital. Since this incident I have been doing better. I have been clean since October 15, and I have my own apartment, job, car, and my daughter is over when I don’t work. Everyday is still a challenge. Not only am I challenged with a lack of a sense of self, but a drug addiction, anger issues, and an inability to be alone. I have recently gotten really good at being alone which is by far the biggest accomplishment.
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