As I talked about yesterday, I told you that I had been impregnated through rape. What came after that was a spiral of mania and fighting to survive. It was mixed emotions after I had given away the first baby. I say gave away because I did not want her. In the adoption it was decided that I would get visits and pictures every so often. I tried to love her; I really did. I could not and still cannot. I suppose there has always been some guilt in this, after all, shouldn’t it be natural? I guess I have never been normal though. After I gave her away, I had moved to a small town with my parents where they had retired. I do not do well in small towns, too much sky or something. I didn’t stay there long and ended up moving to the third largest city in NoDak…so…fairly small. It was the first time I was away on my own for real and I was excited. I had so much energy and hope in me. I ended up getting a job at Walmart and started dating a guy. This guy was actually somewhat nice; however, I have a feeling he only dated me because I looked a lot like his ex-wife. Also, he liked sex, but also didn’t, it was weird. After his divorce he partied a lot and slept around. He ended up partying with underage girls and in turn, sleeping with one and getting caught. It didn’t work out well for him. So, I can understand his sex deprivation along with his mom continuously telling him he needed to be a good boy…literally those words. It became a bit awkward when he would sleep with me and then talk about how much of a bad boy he was and needed to go home. It was equally awkward the time he spent the night and his mom was calling him nonstop. Well, this didn’t last too long I guess because he ended up giving me a couple days’ notice that he was moving to California. Not the first time this had happened to me, one of the first guys I dated right after moving to the Bakken managed to give me three days’ notice he was moving to Texas. I literally suck that bad LOL! Anyways, he moved which left me confuzzled and fucked in the head. I actually did okay though, I ended up getting the job at the post office doing overnights and was somewhat paying bills on time. However, I was still lonely, confused, and under mania. I started drinking at this time since I was freshly 21. I partied alone though because I have never been good at making friends, and what friends I did make, honestly made me very uncomfortable. About a year later is when I met my ex I have talked about. I still wish I never would have met him. I did the whole online dating thing and turned out he lived in one of my apartment complex buildings. Of course, I thought this was fate. Too bad for me for being naive and stupid. The first couple weeks were okay, however, by the second week I knew I didn’t like him at all. I have mentioned previously that I broke up with him but then he broke down and told me how much he loved me. Oh, the naivety of that stupid girl I was. If I never would have taken him back, I would have kept my job at the post office and would have been career. Instead I let him convince me to quit because he could provide. Oh well, he didn’t. Ironically when money was tight, I ended up filling out an application for him for the post office and taking the tests for him, so he got the job. As every relationship built upon bad foundation does, it quickly became a toxic rollercoaster. It was continuous fighting, leaving and moving back, physical and mental abuse. I cannot say it was only him, as I was crazy also, however I can say he packed the hardest beating, I’m sort of little. I have always wished I was stronger. This went on for a good two years. We often moved and often drank. I was constantly moving in and out. I feel bad for my cats I had during this time. I had them my whole life. He would purposely hurt one because it upset me. Even though they were 18 when I had to put them down, I do feel they could have lasted longer if I never would have met him. Eventually I gave the cats to my parents to watch. My ex ended up getting two new ones, one whom he had given to me. It was a tuxedo kitty whom I named Ichabod, after Ichabod Crane. My ex was not nice to him at all. He would purposely hurt him and try to drown him. It would often bring back many flashbacks. I eventually grew up enough strength to move out for good. When I finally did this however, I learned I was pregnant. Oh, the irony, of finally having the strength to get on your feet from an abusive relationship and then having a positive pregnancy test. I couldn’t handle it. I hated him and he hated me. We got an abortion, and although many would criticize me for this (those same people would never criticize him of course) I do not regret it at all. Maybe for a little while I did afterwards, however, I am not sure how much of that guilt was fearing the disappointment of others versus disappointment in myself that I let myself get in such a fucked-up part of life. I did not want to be pregnant again. The first pregnancy I had was very traumatic. I have never wanted kids and definitely did not want to go through the experience of pregnancy again. I did not want to feel trapped in an abusive relationship when I was finally getting myself out. I did what I had to do. For the most part, everything ended there. When I ended up leaving him for good right after that, he sent me a picture of Ichabod choked by his collar. I broke down pretty hard after that. I suppose this was the beginning of my full-blown mania that wouldn’t go away for a good couple of years. During this time is when I fully gave up and was just waiting to die. For some, having an abortion would seem like the worst thing I have ever done. To me, it is the best thing I have ever done for myself. What would come after these years of turmoil and spiraling out of control is the daughter I have today, who literally saved my life.
Life comes in 3’s, first-getting pregnant through rape which was nothing but hate, anger, and disgust, second- having an abortion and being very relieved and happy that I was finally able to say goodbye to the asshole for good.
I have always done what I needed to survive. I do not pretend to be a good person, after all, being a good person can conflict with survival. Although, I am starting to get into a place in life where I do not feel the need to survive as much as I feel the need to live. I am in a good place now in life, I am working on my mind and body as well as almost spiritual, just not in a sense of god. I do hope my readers do not judge me too harshly, as reading back throughout my history can explain why I did what I have done. I have forgiven myself and others for a lot. I just need to take care of that little girl inside of me. Well, I had better get to work. I feel good today. Everyone be good to yourselves; I am trying. Goodbye.