Sad Girl Rant #4
I’ve sat down time after time trying to think of what to write. But I find myself at a loss for words while being overwhelmed with words.
I didn’t want to delete my last post, but I also don’t want to read it. I wrote it under a watchful eye. I had said that I was in a relationship. But what I didn’t say, what I should of said, was it was an incredibly emotionally abusive and controlling relationship. I didn’t even see it, not right away at least. But slowly something started going off in my head then suddenly, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
All these things that made me wonder why I was there and why I was accepting it. It started out simple enough, he wasn’t getting enough attention. He worked early in the morning then would be home around 4pm-ish. I was basically the only person who didn’t hate closing at work so I would work before he got home and return around 8:30/9:00pm. He would always say he would have to go to sleep at 10, and when I got home I would go see my cats which we had separated from the dog until they were all used to each other.
Eventually more and more, this lack of attention became a bigger and bigger argument. Being that I am sick and now have hearing aids, he made it nearly impossible for me to function in the house with my hearing aids. And being sick, that just got worse and worse. He told me one morning that he found me seizing and barely breathing on the porch one evening. He simply took me to the bedroom, He never sought medical attention and when I finally did, it was too late to figure out what had happened or why.
Eventually I stopped going to work. I stopped answering phone calls, messages, texts, emails, all of it. In which he reminded me constantly, he supported me and my decisions. That since work was so stressful at the time, maybe it was best I quit. So that’s what I did, I stopped showing up, not because I wanted to quit or hated my job, but because the fighting was so bad. He’d fight with me and keep me up late, then (unlike he promised) he would wake me up when he did, which was incredibly early. So I ran on little sleep for a while. He even took my store keys back to my work and gave them to my boss.
He would purposely do things to mess with my vocabulary. I was already having a hard time adjusting to new sounds, the sound of my voice, sounds around me. I would get overwhelmed and flustered. When that happened, I would mess words up, say them in the wrong order, or at the worst, I couldn’t even form the word to say it. It was like I had a stroke and had forgotten how to talk. He would use words that sounded similar, things like instead of jokes, and he would say yolks. When I would ask him to help me get used to hearing aids by different methods I had learned online, he was no help. It got to the point I would rarely wear my hearing aids at home because it would somehow start a fight.
My hearing has also caused problems with my balance. It causes vertigo from time to time, and when bad enough, throws me off completely while making me nauseas. At the mall I stumbled a bit while walking, I was nauseas, it was my first time in such a large busy place. So he kinda mocked me by doing the same thing, I asked him not too and he did it again, but a bit more exaggerated. This caused me to nearly fall completely and throw up. I had to immediately go to the bathroom and dry heave while sitting to try to get back to normal.
We had went to the mall to look at new phones. He wanted to help me get a new one, even pay for it or help pay for it if he had to because mine had fallen into bleach water. It still worked but not nearly as well as it once did. When the time came to run a card, he had a phone call so I ran mine and was approved. I planned on keeping my iPhone 7 but he and the cashier were talking and somehow it turned into a trade in. He didn’t help with the bill or phone. I’m struggling each and every month trying to pay a phone bill I can’t afford without a job any longer.
He would pick fights over things, dumb things. That all the dudes on Facebook only wanted to have sex with me, that the dude who helped me twice at T-Mobile only wanted to have sex with me, that I talked too much about my life or anything to everyone so I basically had to stop talking to everyone. If I was on my phone, he questioned what I was doing. He let me know that the apartment we lived in, the owner lived there too and had cameras all over AND was home all the time. So he always knew what was going on. He made sure to let me know he had two guns, one on him at all times and one that I didn’t know where it was. All these little things that were normal conversation to him, they were threats to me.
I had talked about leaving, which was a fight, of course. But it was always that he would help me. He would find me an apartment, pay the deposit and first month’s rent and help me move. When I would refuse his help, he got angry. So I would stop packing and stay. One Sunday we both had the day off and he was sick. He spent most of his day in bed so I decided to put on make-up and just look pretty for the day. A bit after I was done, I was invited to a WWE pay-per-view party and it took almost an hour of thinking if I should go or not. I was scared to even tell him I was going to a friend’s place for that.
When I finally did tell him, he just asked “So, is that what you were getting ready for? I asked what you were doing today and you said nothing”, I explained I was just invited and wanted to go. I had accused him earlier that he didn’t want me seeing my friends so he let me go, which was surprising. He was even polite when I got home, but it never lasts. I spent more time sleeping on the kitchen/outdoor porch than I did in the bed. Other than being an escape, it really didn’t allow for any sex or attempts at sex to go on.
Eventually I was so beat down by everything he said I was doing wrong that for one day, I did everything he wanted. EVERY SINGLE THING. From what I said, to dressed, to what I did. I showered him in attention. I wanted to avoid a fight. I wanted one good day. I asked if he wanted to say sex, in the most unsexual voice to ever be used. He looked surprised and asked if I wanted to. I said no, I don’t want to but do you? He said yes. So I told him I’d meet him in the bedroom. I came in, removed my clothes, got into bed and laid there. He jumped at the chance, kissing me and trying to be “romantic”. I looked him dead in the eyes and just said, I don’t want to have sex, don’t try to make this romantic, there’s no point. If you want to fuck, just do it and get it over it. He kinda drug out the “this doesn’t feel right” bit and I left it at, it’s your conscious, not mine. You do what you want. Needless to say, he had sex with me. I didn’t move, speak, or touch him, anything. I basically allowed him to rape me, and I learned the hard way that he had no respect for me. I was an object. An object he had full control over.
In a desperate attempt, I did some desperate things in hopes of getting taken to the hospital, either for injuries or being crazy. Neither happened. So while he was at work, two days later I was able to call my doctor and get in right away. I received 12 stitches in my chest that day. He got home later and saw the stitches and felt horrible. Told me how sorry he was. But within hours the sorry was gone and he was the cruel man I had knew him to be. I began packing. I refused any help. He asked where I was going, I said none of his business. Around maybe 1am he told me he had to go to bed. I told him I would lock the door behind me. I don’t think he actually thought I would leave. But I did. I packed what I could, I carried it down two flights of stairs while trying not to rip my stitches. I got in my car and I left.
The next few days were hell. I wasn’t allowed to return to collect my belongings unless he was there. I even asked If I had a police escort if I could. I was sick of fighting, I said fuck it, he can throw shit away if he wanted too. But instead he rented a second storage unit and put everything in it. First he said I had two months to get it, then he said take all the time I needed. He made sure to keep a key to both locks on the storage unit even though at that point it was only my stuff there.
Two friends allowed me a safe space for about a week. I got a PO Box to have mail delivered too. But I had no money. The last of it had went to paying to have one of my cats put to sleep after his dog attacked my cat. Then I found another safe spot for a while but even though I was able to kinda set up a room, I had no privacy. I had things happening that I was not okay with. Things I saw, things that were said, and just the general conditions of my stay there. One night enough was enough and I left. I planned on living in my car. A friend asked me to come hang out, so I figured it was something to do.
And lucky for me, that friend took me in. Fully knowing I had no money, In exchange for his spare room I would clean, do dishes, I do his laundry, help him with his dog, anything I can do to help around the house since I haven’t been able to make money.
I applied to so many jobs, talked with different employers, even began working with one. But mostly I have been rejected. Being brand new to hearing aids, I can’t just go work at McDonald’s, I’d probably stab my ears until I was deaf. Most places don’t want to make the accommodations for me to work there. My work skills aren’t worth the cost of the accommodations. I did get one job, but due to my condition, he stopped calling me to meet up for training, so that job is now gone.
I’ve asked for donations on paypal and any other side hustle I could think of. Including selling almost anything I can. Not that I have a whole lot left, a lot of stuff was placed into storage in a poor way and when the damaged was totaled up, it was $650 estimated. If I would have been allowed to pack and move my own things, nothing would have been damaged and I obviously would have been better off. But you get what you get when it comes to life I suppose.
I’m working with vocational rehabilitation on a career and I think we found one that could be very suiting. I applied for the program and in fact got in, which is amazing! But training doesn’t start until November and it’s about a 30 minute drive each way. Finding money for gas, an oil change, car insurance, a phone bill I never wanted, items just to live is exhausting. But hopefully I’ll be able to find a job quickly once I’m out of training and hopefully begin to see an improvement in my life.
So now, I’m just trying to live. I’m trying to make friends, trying to get out more, trying to be the person I used to be. But it’s hard. There’s all these changes that everyone else can see but I don’t and they’re not always the quickest to tell me. Since getting hearing aids, talking on the phone is hard. I speak a lot more quiet than I used to but no one tells me that I’m doing it, I’ve had to ask. I get depressed when I say something important and someone just skips over it and says something else. I realize they most likely didn’t hear me, but it hurts. No one likes to feel ignored.
I’m doing things I probably wouldn’t have done otherwise to make money, such as selling nude photographs. While I’m 100% okay with being photographed naked, and enjoy showing the human body in all shapes and sizes, it wouldn’t exactly be a way I would want to live my life. But life costs money, even if I didn’t have a car or cell phone bill you have to consider in things like hearing aid batteries or maintenance, food, clothing (training requires business casual clothing, I own none), basic hygiene. It’s so crazy when you think back and realize you have taken care of yourself since you were 17, fast forward twelve years and I’m at the mercy of the world. I’m not used to it and I don’t like it.
Another thing that drives me crazy, is people specifically telling me how good I look. While to everyone else, I’ve lost weight and I look good. To me, I’m sick and I’ve lost a lot of weight incredibly fast. I look like a corpse. Laying down, my rib cage sticks out. And sure, maybe I look good but I feel terrible. My body aches, I’m constantly freezing, I give myself two shots every other day, my ears hurt, and they can’t seem to figure out what the problem is. I’ve been told I’m supposed to visit at least four specialists, I’ve been told that for months yet here I am, no help in sight. Diagnosed with things that will kill me if untreated and here I am, untreated.
If you look back a few months ago, I was an entirely different person than I am now. I’m trying really hard to love this new version of myself, but it’s really hard. So I guess, send good vibes, I’ll leave a PayPal link if you’d like to donate. Emails, comments, all that stuff is always welcome and I’m sorry for being gone so long. I hope to be making a comeback and this blog may change, it may not. But thank you for everyone’s support even while I’ve been away.