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Escape From Prison

The diary of a tattered girl: Body, mind, heart and soul

I have finally reached that point in my life that I can look back at the darkest days of my life. It has taken three years to be able to look back into those moments, still the nightmares haunt me, the fear lingering in my subconscious but I do not tremble in fear any longer.  While packing for my house move I stumbled upon a dairy that I wrote in my hardest moment of life so far. Looking back I can see just how much my mental health had deteriorated and how confused my emotions were.

A little context for you, before you delve deep into the psyche of a broken mind, in this moment of my life I had moved out from my family home about 6 months before to live with a man I thought I loved only for everything to turn nasty. It is only looking back now I can see just how bad things truly were and just what he was doing to me.

(All names have been changed)

I start writing this just wrapped up in a towel, seems fitting as without it I would have nothing and be naked. Here I am pouring everything I am into these few pages. Naked for everyone to see. The Boyfriend and I just had a huge argument in which I ended up making the choice that it is all over. As always this argument was over a boy. John doesn’t trust me and I don’t really blame him, I have destroyed him by cheating on him in the past, making myself a whore. Something everyone had already told me I was, seems they were right. I must be if I want to destroy everything he is and everything I have over a guy. I’m not saying John is the best guy in the world. After all the argument started because he kept going through my phone. I’ve said he doesn’t trust me. Throughout the argument he kept going on about how free I actually was. Yet I just don’t feel free at all. Guess it’s just my mind playing tricks upon me but I feel so very trapped; trapped in the house, trapped in the relationship, trapped in life. But I know a way out. To die. To fade away into freedom.

I laid in the shower, the only thing I had was a little bit of plastic, started at my wrists but could not get very far. My mind started to twist and turn bringing the bad things back from the past. All the guys  who had come before and left calling me a whore and they were right. I am a whore! A dirty filthy minded whore! The plastic met my leg and started to dig right into the flesh scrawling across it that one word. WHORE! I have a guy in my life in my bed, giving me the money, security that every girl wants and yet I fool around. I really don’t know why, I did psychology and I still cannot figure it out in my own mind. I keep things from him, I say to protect him but I don’t know any more. I was carrying our baby, there was a life growing inside of me and I spoilt it. I killed it. The baby couldn’t survive in the womb of a whore and I don’t blame it, I wouldn’t want me as a mother either. I didn’t tell him about the miscarriage, he found out, I never wanted him to know. Maybe it was my punishment, all these years bouncing from one guy to the next. Why should I deserve a child? Why do I deserve anything?

Looking back now, I know I never cheated, but he would always tell me I had, tell me that I was flirting with men in order to get them to like me and take me to bed. Time and time again, he would have checked up on me and made sure I was saying the right things, to the right people. By this point in my life, he was soon becoming my entire world; my friends were his friends, ones picked out by him. Anyone else I wanted as a friend, I would have been questioned over. In the past I had blamed myself, and sometimes I still do unfortunately, for the loss of my child but now I know, it was the stress in the relationship, the fear in my life that made it happen.

Today seems to be the day I get blamed for things, for being mean, snapping and just well being depressed. He knows my state of mind and still he came forth with these things. Why am I being so mean today? Whats wrong? Every five minutes asked what’s wrong? Never taking my answer as the truth, never taking anything I say as the truth. How is trust supposed to develop when there is always doubt? He wishes to know what is going on in my head, why I act a certain way but I have no clue. Even now in complete silence writing this I have no clue why I snap and appear cold and distant. I don’t know why depression sweeps over me like a cloud over the sun. Yet it appears I should know everything, which goes on in my head. And even what I do not know I should tell him anyway.

Of course it is my fault, I have to be the person he wants me to be all the time, sociable, cuddly, bubbly person. But I’m tired of being that person all the time, it saps everything straight from me. Sometimes I just want to be left alone, yet that is classed as being antisocial, and I could be up to something. Seems everything I want is deemed as wrong in one way or another. So I have to keep the always happy look that tires me out. John, paranoid, angry and depressive. Yet these things all make up him, but sometimes I am scared of him and scared for him. I am only scared of him hurting me, once it’s done, it’s done. But I’m scared for him and what would happen next. Complete breakdown. I have seen it so many times before and it hurts deep within me every time. To know I wasn’t strong enough to stop him, or I cause his anger that made him hurt me.

Back then I always thought that everything was my fault and I deserved whatever came to me, whether it was a heated argument or something much more serious; feeling his hits. I tried to do my best to stay just how he wanted but the slightest waver and he would change. Now I know that it was not me, I can be however I wish to be without fear of being hurt or threatened in my own home.

Wandering around with nothing to do. I can’t seem to settle today, been outside so it cannot be that Im stuck indoors. I wonder if anyone would come out with me but he is much too busy figuring out what to watch and play next. People around me keep lying and not keeping to their word, yet it appears I am to blame for it. John promised he would not talk to her again, something he has said so many times before. I don’t know why I bother to believe him anymore, I really don’t. I only say the things I say because I don’t want to see him hurt but I am to blame, yelling at me that it would be rude to ignore her. He can talk to her; I wouldn’t stop him, only trying to help. Guess I really do live in a world without trust.

I was never allowed outside by myself, just in case a man was to look at me and pull me away from him. I had to be with him at all time, even just to go to the shop across the road, I would see him watching me through the window. I never got to see my family or friends, he had become my soul life. The thoughts of course drifted through my head but I never spoke them, I never acted on them for fear of punishment.

I feel so weak, so god damn weak and helpless and I can’t even say anything about it. Why is it today all my good thoughts that I put into action always go wrong? Told someone they could ring as they always pester and I end up being pressured into doing things I don’t want to. Of course if I was to decline I would only be cast in a negative light, and he would be upset. I don’t like him upset. John sided with his friends, nothing I said was right, always met with opposition. Maybe I do know nothing, he is older after all, they are his friends. I haven’t written in a long time and now I feel I have to. So many things have happened since last I wrote. My sister and I had a huge argument, she wanted me to come home, but I just can’t. I can’t leave the home, I can’t leave him alone. He wouldn’t be happy with that.

I stayed in this relationship for three and a half years, and looking back I don’t know how I did it, how I survived or why I let myself live like that. The threats and abuse, mental and physical slowly happened almost every day. I saw no one but him, I felt weak, sick and tired all the time. I only lived my life for him, I know that now.

Now I am free, now I am happy. Now I am brave enough to look back upon my life not in fear but strengthened, knowing I have survived.

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