I'm positive that every single one of us in the world, not only on this blog have secrets. I know it. I mean I was just on Open Up Through Secrets on Facebook. And this one girls secret really got to me. It said 'I've been raped twice. I've been pregnant twice. and I think about suicide more than a 16 year old should.'
I'm so sorry for whatever happened to you. But I think I should tell you girls what happened to me. It's actually really funny if you ask me how I can act so fucking sexual one second. And the next so calm and composed and scared. It seems funny saying that at 18 I'm scared of sex. Because I'm actually not I'm scared of what will happen. Just based on my life so far. And this is where we hit the secret part.
When I was sixteen I found out I was pregnant with Jamie's child. And when I say I was sixteen I mean I found out right after I turned 16(January 16). I was happy, he was happy, we hadn't told my parents just because it would ruin my life. He was twenty I was sixteen. Illegal. Almost four months along and I was barely showing, mainly because I didn't eat right from sixth grade to now. Then I got the call, Jamie died. And I put myself through too much stuff. I didn't eat. I just cried. I didn't even sleep. I went to school as a zombie. Still no one knew. And then one day it happened. I woke up to blood covering my sheets. I freaked out. And I still didn't tell anyone. It didn't take much for me to figure it out. I miscarried. I went to Jamie's mom's house to be sure, she was a nurse. I tried to kill myself five times that week. I didn't think about it I tried. I swallowed pills, brought a knife to my skin, tried to strangle myself. But every time one of his family members stopped me, found me or saved me. The pills just didn't work, and I guess I'm glad about that. The knife wound was sewn up and never mentioned again. The marks around my neck stayed for a good week but I was always wearing scarfs. I thank them for saving me. But at the same time I wish they had let me die.
Then I met a jerk. This jerk doesn't have a name, he doesn't deserve one. He treated me like fucking shit (which is why he's the jerk of the story). Treating me like shit including raping me. I hated him even more for that. Because yes I hated him for how he treated me. But the fact that he did that was even worse in my opinion. Well six weeks later that fucking stick ruined my life again. Pregnant. I didn't want to tell him but finding me slumped over the toilet three times in a week gave it away. He grabbed my hair, ripping pieces of it out and slammed me up against the wall. I remember his words because I hated him for them more than he ever said to me before.
"You fucking whore. You got pregnant on purpose so that I couldn't leave you."
I wanted to laugh in his face. Clearly I got pregnant so the abusive fuck who raped me wouldn't leave me. I laughed in his face, knowing it wouldn't be good whatever he had planned. And I was right. He beat me so I couldn't move. And then just because he's a bastard he kicked my stomach. Killing his child. I never thought I would cry because of that bastard. But I did right then and there. Because it hurt, because it was a person, because I might not have loved that baby to the fullest but someone would have. I was only ten weeks pregnant but still. It was a baby. I tried to kill myself then, actually I had hoped he would kill me. But no such luck. Jerk is living somewhere else, away from me. I have people who protect me if needed.
That is my secret, which isn't really a secret anymore. Just don't tell please, at least not my family.
xoxo
Stephani (is sinful)
I'm so sorry for whatever happened to you. But I think I should tell you girls what happened to me. It's actually really funny if you ask me how I can act so fucking sexual one second. And the next so calm and composed and scared. It seems funny saying that at 18 I'm scared of sex. Because I'm actually not I'm scared of what will happen. Just based on my life so far. And this is where we hit the secret part.
When I was sixteen I found out I was pregnant with Jamie's child. And when I say I was sixteen I mean I found out right after I turned 16(January 16). I was happy, he was happy, we hadn't told my parents just because it would ruin my life. He was twenty I was sixteen. Illegal. Almost four months along and I was barely showing, mainly because I didn't eat right from sixth grade to now. Then I got the call, Jamie died. And I put myself through too much stuff. I didn't eat. I just cried. I didn't even sleep. I went to school as a zombie. Still no one knew. And then one day it happened. I woke up to blood covering my sheets. I freaked out. And I still didn't tell anyone. It didn't take much for me to figure it out. I miscarried. I went to Jamie's mom's house to be sure, she was a nurse. I tried to kill myself five times that week. I didn't think about it I tried. I swallowed pills, brought a knife to my skin, tried to strangle myself. But every time one of his family members stopped me, found me or saved me. The pills just didn't work, and I guess I'm glad about that. The knife wound was sewn up and never mentioned again. The marks around my neck stayed for a good week but I was always wearing scarfs. I thank them for saving me. But at the same time I wish they had let me die.
Then I met a jerk. This jerk doesn't have a name, he doesn't deserve one. He treated me like fucking shit (which is why he's the jerk of the story). Treating me like shit including raping me. I hated him even more for that. Because yes I hated him for how he treated me. But the fact that he did that was even worse in my opinion. Well six weeks later that fucking stick ruined my life again. Pregnant. I didn't want to tell him but finding me slumped over the toilet three times in a week gave it away. He grabbed my hair, ripping pieces of it out and slammed me up against the wall. I remember his words because I hated him for them more than he ever said to me before.
"You fucking whore. You got pregnant on purpose so that I couldn't leave you."
I wanted to laugh in his face. Clearly I got pregnant so the abusive fuck who raped me wouldn't leave me. I laughed in his face, knowing it wouldn't be good whatever he had planned. And I was right. He beat me so I couldn't move. And then just because he's a bastard he kicked my stomach. Killing his child. I never thought I would cry because of that bastard. But I did right then and there. Because it hurt, because it was a person, because I might not have loved that baby to the fullest but someone would have. I was only ten weeks pregnant but still. It was a baby. I tried to kill myself then, actually I had hoped he would kill me. But no such luck. Jerk is living somewhere else, away from me. I have people who protect me if needed.
That is my secret, which isn't really a secret anymore. Just don't tell please, at least not my family.
xoxo
Stephani (is sinful)
2 comments:
holy.pancakes.
Steph...I'm speechless. Well not completely but it definitely feels that way.
I know the standard thing to say here is I'm sorry...and I am. I just...I don't know...I have this feeling that that isn't what you want to hear. If it is then well I said it anyway.
I feel like I want to say something other than I'm sorry but I can't come up with the words. Guess that's where the speechless part comes into play.
I'll just stop talking now because I'm just repeating myself because I can't seem to think of words to say.
Steph; i know i currently just told you this
but what you go through people cant even imagine
im only 14 and when you say that
im speechless
this is talking over 10 min to write pratically because i dont know what to say
I am here if you need to chat
just dont text; =]
<3Sarah
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