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Triggered

We were playing around in bed last night. No, not in the nasty way. He was a little buzzed, maybe he was even drunk, and he was being silly. He would roll, taking all the blankets with him. It was fun. I would try to take the blankets back from him, but he would roll and make it where I couldn’t even grab a corner!

We were having fun. And he finally let me have a corner, so I pulled and rolled with the blanket so that I could make sure that he didn’t take any more blankets than what he needed. But he tried rolling again, and since I had most of my weight holding the blanket down, he couldn’t go anywhere. So he came closer, and he pulled down my panties in a certain way…
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The Past

Oh, how the past keeps coming up.

She still comes up in conversations…with family…on Facebook. She’s there.

But, she’s not the reason I’m so fucked up.

There has to be more. There has to be a reason that doesn’t just include her.

Go back to a history, there are so many fucked up things that have happened in my life it can’t just be her.

I’ve been depressed for years, and taking medication is only helping me keep the bad thoughts at bay. They are keeping me alive.

It can’t be just her.

The past, it always come up.

Depression has always been a problem, whether I wanted to admit it or not, it’s always been there. Especially in my younger days. It was there and it was evident that I needed more than just to “snap out of it”.

I’m not on medications because of her. Because of how she treated me, because of how she would say demeaning things to me.

I’m on medications because I’m depressed, because I’m anxious, because I could be bipolar.

She has not made me weak. She has not made me like this.

I am not ashamed.

I am ok.

And the past needs to die.

When The Past Comes Back

It’s funny how life does things. Like…throwing the past in your face. Constantly.

I received an email today from Bitch saying something along the lines of “Sorry, but this is your biological father and he passed away.” Like really?

For some background here, I have no actual relationship with my “biological father”, he was a sperm donor, in my opinion, and nothing more. He had a whole other life, family, and circle of friends. He had no rights to me, had no want to be in my life, so he’s not my Dad. So, why would I want to know of his passing? Other than the fact that I, now, know that he is no longer alive. But I don’t know him. So, without meaning to sound like a heartless person, why would I care?

It’s in the past, and so is she, so why does life keep throwing this in my face? Why would she continually try to contact me?

See, Bitch, just like BIL, live in a fantasy. A fantasy where they are both the hero of the story and everyone else is at fault. Bitch has done this to me too many times for it to make a difference. But it’s irritating. Irritating because she tells her “friends” (random people on Facebook) that she had a daughter that stopped talking to her, she has no kids, she reaches out to me every day but I ignore her…It never really changes. It’s all my fault, that’s what it boils down to.

The past should be left in the past. She’s not part of my life anymore, and I don’t appreciate her contacting me just to tell me that some man (I don’t know) passed away. I don’t know what she really wants, other than to bug me. She doesn’t want a relationship, she wants someone to control. I haven’t been that person in 4 years.

I don’t hate her, but I definitely don’t like her. Have I told you the story? Here goes:

So, for years this woman was my “Mommy”. I grew up loving and knowing her in that role. There was never a time that I questioned it. She raised me. She took me school shopping, attended school functions, etc. There was nothing that she couldn’t do.

As I got older, we became more distant. I grew closer to my mom, who, at the time, was called my aunt. (See how confusing this is?) Bitch became more of a bitch. WE couldn’t talk, about anything. I never got the sex talk, because I wasn’t having sex; I never got the “girl” talk…Kinda thankful for that, but I had questions; I couldn’t tell her about my bad days, hallucinations, insomnia, depression, curiosity, or anything. Anytime I tried to talk to her about anything, I was shut down. She would start yelling or talk over me about her needs. It was like I wasn’t supposed to have any issues or problems.

I remember when I was in 9th grade, I got called to the counselor’s office (I’ve posted about this before). They called my parents in, it was the first time they ever got called because of my behavior. It should have been a sign that she needed to listen, instead, she made some stupid joke about it, saying that we would get help. I got home, and was grounded for whatever reason. I “should have known better.” It all doesn’t matter now, but it was a big deal, and maybe I wouldn’t be doing what I am now if I had received the help I needed BEFORE it got to this point.

Life with her was really hard. I wasn’t doing good enough at school, it had to be all A’s or else. And when my grades started slipping, because school got harder, I was grounded. Really, I did very well in school. I wish I could see my transcript again. I graduated in the top 10% of my class, had a 3.74 GPA by graduation, was accepted to Tarleton. I thought that I did really well. But it wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t the perfect daughter.

Things got a little better when I went to college, I think the distance helped a lot. We were able to have a conversation, though it didn’t last for very long. But things did get better.

Now, we just talk through emails, and it’s really a fruitless effort on my part. She just does this to fish for information. I hate that. And everything is always my fault. So why do I bother?

The most recent, which had first been the email saying that my “bio-father” passed, to which I replied “what do you really want?” She replied “I don’t want a thing from you. Just letting you now your dad died. You made your choice in life, I can’t change that and wouldn’t if I could, so close the door totally if that’s what you want. Guess this is the last you will hear from me, just thought you might want to know, guess I was wrong again.” Please note, that she has said “Guess this is the last you will hear from me” several times before. I replied and told her that he wasn’t my dad. He wasn’t there. He had no part in my life. And I asked her why she does this, because I really don’t get it. She only pops up when she wants something, but then she will tell everyone that I shut her out, maybe I do. Maybe I shut her out because I’m refusing to get hurt over and over and over again. I have issues because of this woman. I have trust issues, I have nightmares involving her. I have a lot of problems because of her. And why is it that it’s always my fault? She pops up and says that it’s my fault. I don’t get it.

I’m trying to move on with my life, and right now, that doesn’t include being hurt by her lies and hate.