You see movies about sex trafficking. About young girls who fall in love with older men because they think they will be saved from all their pain and loneliness. You think to yourself you'd be so much smarter than them and wouldn't fall for their tricks. That's what i thought. When I was 15 I started dating an older man. It was long distance. I had so many mental health problems and family issues. I thought he was the best thing to ever happen to me and he would protect me from the cruel world. He was manipulative and emotionally abusive, but always said just the right words to keep me in love with him and crave his attention. Months later, he told me I needed to come live with him otherwise he'd leave me. Of course, I was young and naive and thought I would die without him. So I stole a car, I ran away from home, and drove to the other side of the country to go live my happily ever after.
It didn't turn out how I wanted it to.
From the minute I got there, my world was turned upside down. The first thing he did, was walk up to me, kiss me and bite my lip so hard that he ripped a chunk of flesh off and spat it on the ground and said hello. We went into his house, and I went to sleep while he went to work. When he came home, that's when things started that I would never heal from. He raped me and beat me over and over. He started drugging me because he got tired of me fighting back. He started inviting his roommates into the room to "get to know me". He starved me and turned me into a barely conscious doll. After a few weeks, he wanted to use me for things other than his own pleasure. He wanted money.
He told me we were going to see some of his friends. He took me to drug houses, truck stops, strip clubs, friends houses, and wherever else he stopped along the way. He sold me. He had me so far gone that I remember everything, but never remember being able to move. I remember being slumped in the front seat of the car, watching him drive in the middle of the night, and saying I love you. Wanna know the crazy thing? He said it in return with a smile on his face. I remember that smile everywhere. Hovering over me on broken beds and air mattresses. Smiling at me when I was screaming and crying out of pain. Smiling when we'd pull into a new money making pit stop. You never know how much a smile can affect someone they say. I never understood that until him.
Eventually, one night during a drive, he was speeding over 100mph. A cop pulled us over. He asked me some questions and I lied. But he figured it out. I was arrested and put in the cop car. I then watched my boyfriend get arrested and placed into a different car. That was the last time I ever saw him.
I was sent to a homeless shelter for a while until my parents showed up for me. Disgusted and disappointed, they followed the court order to take me to a hospital to check me out after what cops assumed I'd been through. I didn't let anyone touch me. I didn't let the doctors or nurses or even my own mom close to me. I wanted to die then more than ever.
When I got the text a few months later saying "Hola mi amor". My heart stopped. Although he was sent to prison, a few months later he was bailed out. He tried getting me to run away and be with him again, claiming things would be different. And even after all I'd been thru, the most shriveled up and desperate part of me thought about it for a second.
I blocked him. But every few months, for the next few years, I'd get the same text from a different number, or social media account, or address. He would "check in to see how I'm doing".
He haunts me. He haunts my dreams. He haunts my memories, he ruins my relationships, he ruined my soul.
People, therapists, friends, family, they all look at you and say you can't be so stuck in the past. But what they don't understand is my past is stuck with me. No matter how hard I try, I can't escape him.
I have made so much progress over the years. I have tried to start living again, but it only seems to ever be surviving.
My brain is consumed with trauma. And my heart is sealed in a cage because of it.
I never want to see him again, but I look for him everywhere I go.
The truth is, most days I still would rather be dead than have to live with my memories.
I am writing this because, well the truth is I'm not even sure. Although I have not told many people, there are a few who know. But the response is always the same. " at least you're okay now". But I'm not. I'm not sure there is a way to be okay after. I think at this point, all I want is to be heard.
If you've read till the end, thank you. And I hope you find your peace.
Mental Health and Alcohol dependancy
My mental health
Mental health therapists come in all shapes and sizes........
