Now, I’ve said a lot about how much I hate myself and want to die, but I haven’t really gone into who exactly I am as a person that makes me hate myself. Here I’ll go into detail about the things that make me despise who I am as a person.
I didn’t have a shred of hatred for myself until I was about 10. This was where certain things in my life began to shape me into the self-loathing person I am today.
It started when a close friend my Grandmother had at the time crawled into my bed as I was sleeping one night, put his hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t scream when I woke up, and began to rape me. This would happen repeatedly until I was 12, when my Grandmother, who I’ve lived with since I was born, moved to the suburbs to be closer to my Father. I’d be so sore some days that I could barely walk, and during other days there would even be blood. Others took notice and asked what could be wrong, but I was scared. I didn’t want them to know what was happening to me on an almost daily basis. When I was 11 I tried to kill myself for the first time. I was deeply ashamed, and wanted the pain to end. So I slit my wrists as deep as I could and climbed into a tub that I had filled with warm water and salt. It almost worked, too. I lost tons of blood, and by the time I was taken to the hospital I had already lost consciousness and was on the brink of death.
There was one time where my Grandmother had to go somewhere for a week and needed someone to watch over me. He offered to do so, and my Grandmother agreed. That week would be the worst one of my life.
During that week he would order me around constantly, asking me to do things that were seemingly impossible for someone my age. Whenever I would mess up, or when he felt like it, he would slap me around, kicking me when I would fall to the ground. During the nights he would do horrible things to me, even worse than the rape. One day he thew me into the bathroom shower before peeing on me, calling me a whore, a *****, and a slut as he did it. When I tried to take a shower, he came in with a belt and began to hit me with it, telling me that he didn’t tell me to take one. He would then pin me to the shower floor where the water would pool up and cover my nose when he would begin to rape me. I still remember the feeling of his penis inside of me. It’s such a dirty feeling. I never feel clean anymore. I feel like less of a human, like a toy that has been used and thrown to the side. I never mentioned anything about my rape until I was 16, when I began to break down and cry hysterically when my Grandmother told me she was on the phone with him.
I was never able to get over the rape. I would have night terrors to the point where I would be afraid of even being sleepy. I would sometimes go nights without sleeping because I was afraid of what might happen to me if I were to do so. The sight of men would send me into a panic, especially Black men, since my rapist was a Black person. I’m better than I was before, but I still get nervous here and there. I’ve tried to continue on with my life, but it’s been so hard. Dating has been a mess, I can’t do anything intimate without having horrible flashbacks of what happened to me. Going to school scares me, too. I’m afraid someone will take advantage of me, and every Black kid I would see would send me into a panic. I wasn’t even able to graduate last year because of all the days I missed.
I’m also a Transgender woman. I began transitioning when I was 15 and have been growing ever since. Sometimes I feel horrible about myself. I mean, why couldn’t I have just felt comfortable in my body? Why did I have to put people through the stress of using female pronouns when referring to me, or calling me Jennifer instead of my birth name? It makes me feel bad. I also feel horrible when around biological women, or other Tran women who have a better grip on their lives than I do.
Between the rape and being Trans, I really have begun to hate myself. I wish I were dead, but then at the same time I want to live and see where life takes me in say a decade.
Welp, this is everything I have to type for now. If you have any questions, ask and I’ll be happy to answer them for you. Hopefully this makes sense. I think I was a bit vague in some areas of the story. Just let me know if it was or not.
P.S: Sorry for being such an asshole to some of you. I sometimes let my emotions get the better of me. It’s no excuse, but I’m going to make sure I change for the better. 🙂 Oh, and MuteKaterwaul, you’re a pretty awesome person. We should totally have a chat together sometime. <3