Binging so bad

I am so done binging. It is making me sick, so sick that I could die from obesity in the long run.

It has been 15 days now. 15 days. I have binged every single night. I haven’t been able to stop, and each time that I get close, he stares at me the wrong way or wants to pick a fight, and I want to scream FUCK YOU!!!!

I am a rebellious teenager all over again who does not want to ha e sex with their partner.

I hat him. I fuxkong hate him. I want a divorce, but I love him too much to ask him for one.

God damn!

To my abusers

To all my abusers throughout the years,
You were the first one. You set the example, early on. Some of my earliest memories are of you screaming at our parents, at me, even at 3 years old, I had done something to deserve your wrath. I want you to know that I am stronger without you in my life, even with the blood shared between us. I will never forget you being pinned on the ground by my father, just to keep his girls protected from you, and when he wasn’t there, you were pushing Mom through windows. EVEN though you committed terrible crimes against the only person who has truly always loved and protected you, you never served time or paid any kind of punishment for the stress you caused and the PTSD you left behind. You were the first major scar left on me, but only some could see it.
To the man who decided to take my ability to decide what happens to my body…at the young age of 16. You were the adult in the relationship. You were supposed to know better than to come onto me when I was in the state of mind you created. Dropping those pretty little white pills into the liquor that would lower my inhibitions. You made sure I wouldn’t remember the things you did to me. Made sure that I wouldn’t have any clue how I ended up pregnant to begin with. The shame and embarrassment I felt when I had to tell the nurses at P.P that I didn’t actually know how a fetus had made its home within my womb. I WAS 16!! Of course I chose to have an abortion, it was the one decision I was given over my body. It’s been ten years and I will never be able to forget you, an adult, much older than me, begging me to keep your child, begged me to have this baby with you, when I knew, just the day before a nurse held my hand while another medical professional took the fetus out of my body so I wouldn’t be forced to have my rapists child. So I would have a chance to be something. So that I could have a chance to not just be another statistic. Your statistic. I wish I had spoken out publicly against you. I wish I could have had the balls to face you in court. I wonder, as you say now you do ‘God’s Work’. Is what you did to me, ‘Gods Work’? How many other GIRLS have you done what you did to me? How many other girls have had to suffer within your grasp because I wasn’t strong enough to speak up. Do you know how long it took me to come clean? Do you know how long I lived in fear before my family finally found out what you did to me? Do you know how many nights I lay awake, terrified to fall asleep, because I would just repeatedly relive what you had done to me? That’s the funny thing about the human brain. I may not be able to remember everything that you did to me while I am awake, most likely my own brain trying to protect me, right? But, my subconscious mind knows. It knows that you took my virginity away from me when I couldn’t consent to sex with you. YOU RAPED ME, and it took me almost 3 years to say anything. My Mom, was the first to know, and that was only because she was raped as well. She knew the signs, she knew where my fear was being derived from. Thank GOD she was there to support me and didn’t throw me out on my ass like other parents have done to their children. I am here still because of her. I am here still because therapy made me understand that what you did to me was not my fault. I am still here, because my husband didn’t see me as just a victim. He saw me as the person I am, outside of the victim of assault. He helped me more than anyone ever has. He convinced me that I didn’t have to just be the victim, that there was still a soul worth living for within me. He helped me survive. I am healing every day. Working on becoming my own person, and not just a victim of rape. It doesn’t change the PTSD, or the chronic depression, or anxiety that have formed as an effect of what you chose to do to me, but I am strong. I will heal, and I will not let the same thing happen to my child. No person ever deserves to have to survive being raped. FROM SOMEONE WHO CLAIMED TO LOVE ME!!!!
To all the friends who couldn’t stand be my side while I fell apart. Fuck you. I have survived, despite you. I hope you don’t ever have to feel the things that I have felt. Being so damn low that you don’t know if it is worth waking up tomorrow. Telling yourself to stay away from the things that you could easily use to end your life. To end the hurt and suffering. To end the constant pain, physical, mental and emotional. Figuring out that I had to recover alone, was one of the hardest things. I hope your never left alone.
I wonder all the time what I would have been like, had I not been put through trauma at such a young age. I wonder if I would still struggle with chronic depression? Would I be able to trust others? Would the anxiety be as bad as it is? Would I be able to sleep more than two hours at a time without a nightmare/terror with your face in my mind? When is the psychological game going to stop? When will I be able to be normal again?
I am finally getting professional help. I am finally brave enough to talk about this out loud, and I have no one in my corner, except my husband and I. Who else is going to stand up for me, if not myself? Maybe, if I had realized this as a teenager, none of this would have happened. Maybe, if I was brave enough to stand up and speak out, I wouldn’t be here.
No point in dreaming about how things could have been. Best thing I can do now, is figure out heal and create a new normal, so I can live the best life I possibly could.

Thanks for listening.