“No matter how hard you try, you cant escape your past.”
It’s funny how words from a video game could cut so damn deep. I still struggle with what all has happened, and if I were the victim, or the aggressor.
Let me take you back to 3 years ago when I was 16. My Junior year was already looking like a wash on its own, and the divorce wasn’t exactly good for my already damaged psyche. The one thing i had going for me was that i had made an online friend the summer prior who I talked to every day. He made me feel like I wasn’t alone, and that I was actually worth something. He often gave me compliments and made me feel beautiful. At one point, he talked me down from taking a bottle full of my anxiety medication and ending my life. Over time, I began to trust him more than I did anyone else, and our friendship began to transform into something else. The “love” word was tossed around a lot between us as the school year wore on and the weather began to get cooler. At this point my step-mother had moved out and was living in the next town over. After months of not seeing her, I was permitted by my father to visit her on my Christmas Break. This time meant a lot to me, considering she was the only mother i really knew and her family treated me like one of their own, even with the divorce. On the evening of December 27th, I was sitting down with my step mother and her friend when I received a bombshell from my father. I was to return home tomorrow and after this visit, I would not be allowed to see her again. He came off as enraged, and I winced at the thought of what usually happens when he is like that. Lots of insults, along with his favorite, hitting me on the back of my head until I fell over into a mess on the floor. I began to panic, and I told my friend that I was thinking about just ending it so Id never have to face my father again. That’s when he suggested picking me up and letting me stay with him until I could figure things out. Seeing no better alternative, and deep down not wanting to die, I gave him my address, and at around midnight, he arrived just down the road from my stepmothers house. I knew as soon as i got in the car there was no turning back. But I trusted him. I thought nothing could go wrong, and if it did, i didn’t really care. Well, spoiler alert, everything went to shit. A good bit of the 2 weeks i was there was an alcohol induced blur, but I remember him nudging me through his house when we arrived. He showed me his guns, all 6 of them, saying he wouldn’t hesitate to use them. I looked into his eyes and just saw nothing but truth behind those words. I knew what he meant by it, so I decided to just do as he said. The only other thing i could recall is that he used me at least 3 times. I cant remember how, but someone found me, and the police came. They gathered my belongings, and I still shake my head about what happened next. I was handcuffed. I began to struggle out of confusion. Why was i being handcuffed while he was being let go? The officer led me outside and shoved me into the back of his cruiser. That’s when the panic attack came on. The events after that also turned into a blur. I recall being taken to the station, an investigator from my hometown shouting at the officers who took me in and taking me to the hospital. There was the rape kit, more questioning, and me going home with my stepmother. I knew I hurt her by going away, and that i probably would never be able to fix things between us. She said her family didn’t even want to hear my name at the time, for what i did. Then there was my mother reaching out, telling me it’d be best to come live with her in CT at least until things died down. I agreed, and that’s really where my running began. About two weeks after arriving, i heard news that my “friend” had been picked up by the Texas Rangers and was behind bars for coercion and sexual assault. The first feeling I had was guilt. I felt it was my fault, and honestly still do. about 2 years later, I’m called back to Texas to testify against him. The moment I walked into the courtroom i could feel him staring a hole into me, and that’s when the guilt came back full force. When it was time for his attorney to cross examine me, he laid into me with question after question about my backround. Then there was the questions about my prior suicide attempt. I couldn’t recall the exact details of one incident, so he pressed me as to why i couldn’t remember. I just began to cry, and the judge had to call a short recess. Later that day I received news that the jury found my friend guilty on all counts. I had mixed feelings about this. Relief, sadness, and the guilt. A few months after, I receive a message from his mother, saying that he was nearly killed in prison and that i was the only person that could save him. The guilt overpowered me, and I told her Id help in any way I could. At her request, I began writing a statement recanting everything i had said truthfully in court. I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he died because of me. After meeting with one of his attorneys to provide a final copy of my statement, an appeal trial was set and I was to fly back to Texas to testify, on his behalf this time against the state. The night before my flight, I receive a call from his attorneys. They received further evidence that contradicted my statement, and at that point I cracked and told them my original testimony was the truth. After this, the guilt just kept compounding more and more, adding to my depression to the point where today I have constant thoughts of dying. I even smile at the thought of letting go. No longer having to deal with the pain and guilt. I lost everyone as a result of my actions, and now I’m truly alone, body and soul. I couldn’t keep running away from it anymore, and it hurts too much having to deal with it all myself. What the hell is to stop me from ending it now?
I feel like I’m already gone.
3 comments
Sometimes, I read a post here, and I want to help say something profound, and do something to take away of the person who wrote the post, but I cant. It’s just too difficult, and while the sentiments are there, I just can’t find the words. Your post is powerful, and sad. I want to help, but I’m not sure how. I just thought I would Express this though, so you know someone does care about your story, and that you arent alone here on SP.
Your comment gave me a sliver of hope, and I thank you for that. I just feel like I’m past the point of coming back from this
I can understand that. Im in the same place. I’m glad I was able to provide you hope