I was raped around 5 months ago. I didn't report it. My friends and family found out after I started hyperventilating and couldn't sleep anymore. Someone asked me why I didn't report it.
I was dating this guy for 2 months. I had just like many times before invited him over to my house. To snuggle and lay in my bed and watch some Netflix. I'm a recovering sex addict. What does it look like at 33 years old, to explain that situation? So I didn't. I internalized it. It ate me alive. But in a system where women are repeatedly told we bring rape upon ourselves, how the fuck are we supposed t be honest? I took it upon myself to take all his dick pics and post them on my facebook. Well at least all of the ones of him at his job in his uniform taking pics in the community office. Tagged his job in it. Nothing happened to him. I know because he works at Dave n Busters, and my friend Rebecca went in the other day and told me she ran into him. Called him out about raping me. He gave her a bunch of free games. Asked how I was.
The worst part of the rape was having to drive this guy home afterwards. Listening to him apologize as he watched me cry. As if that made it all better. I waited 3 years as a recovering sex addict to even try to date someone and two months after I had this was what I dealt with. Yay.
He did this not even a week after I found out I had cancer again.
Again because I was first diagnosed at the ripe age of 19. It was removable. And again at 21. It was again removable. It stayed away for a while. I waited to go to the doctors this time. I knew it was back around 2 years ago. I remember one of the last pap smears I went to the doctor engaged the device into my vagina, looked down and with a look of horror on his face when he looked up at me and asked exactly how many procedures had I had done?
All together? Including biopsies? leaps? removals? I lost count. Enough that I avoided the doctor like the plague. I couldn't afford insurance anyways #thisisamerica So at first, even though familiar, the pain was minor. Now two years later being diagnosed almost 5 months ago, Everyday waking up feels like my uterus is trying to weigh itself down and force it's way out of my vagina. Fun right? An intense pressure I am now trying to drink away. I made an appointment today. It's kinda unbearable. At this point I'm breaking down and keeling over at my job. Crying hysterically. My Nana begging me to go to the hospital. I can't afford that shit. Dying would be cheaper.
Cancer fucking sucks. I know it's to the point there really isn't much left for them to cut away. While I was talking to my friend Nicole last night her response was I'm sorry I know you wanted more kids. Not really? Yes when I smell babies my uterus works with the biological clock screaming at me to implant, but realistically I have have 6 years left til I ship my daughter off to medical school, leave my son to hack the planet and I'm free. I hope at this point they realize with every lesson I've taught them that I am not a safety net. Once you are 18 you are on your own My job is not to coddle you, but prepare you for such future. There are 7.6 billion people in the world. Life is not fair. They do not owe you anything. They do not care if you fail or succeed. Everyone is out for themselves. Where as my job is to prepare them, my ultimate goal is to make sure, I am not releasing another asshole selfish fuck upon the world. I am raising humanitarians. That kind of success is not optional. We have one planet. People will come and go... The Earth is what needs to be cared for. There are enough selfish, greedy, people in the world, and I am not raising a contribution to that.
My daughter has wanted to be a cardiac or brain surgeon for the last 4 years. Hopefully I can channel my son' strong will to eliminate national debt. Then we can be freed as people to not work our lives away to buy back the products we make for someone else to get the money. My daughter working with doctors without borders. So I'm not that upset I can't have any more kids. I'm working my damn hardest to raise the two i have correctly and this is never easy. But I'm doing the best I can.
I wonder sometimes though if I care so much about being the love in the world and wanting to do so much about everything because of the lack of care I received growing up. As I stood over my son doing his homework today as he grumbled, and disrespected me, and pissed and moaned, I reminded his my own mother never cared about anything but dick and making sure the dishes were done by the time she came home from work. Funny enough, as a teacher, never not once sat with me to do my homework. Try explaining that as teachers called you out your entire life. Sorry I didn't get my homework done, I was too busy cleaning so my mother could have a male visitor over who would likely abuse me.... Sorry I didn't do that long division. I wonder if I will, or at least I should say at least I fear, standing over my children and expecting greatness leaves me to worry that I am just raising more selfish entitled people to endure the world with. I pray I am not. That maybe I am exactly who I am because of how little the world cared about me. Quiet battles are usually the hardest to go through.
Fuck my life.
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