How many years has it been after that incident happened? We cut off our connections two years ago, I assumed I will be fine now.

I went to therapy; I ate medicines; I kept myself busy. I thought I am already doing well but I was wrong.

I am tired, I feel like I must always run to escape this feeling, I keep on getting flashbacks. I was okay for a while, but what happened? What triggered my trauma? I am not sure.

In my dream, he appeared. He was somehow not doing fine and the people around us blamed me for that. I kept mum for a while, I do not want to ruin him in front of everyone. But I cannot tolerate it any longer. I kept on seeing how they look at me with contempt in their eyes with their thoughts leaking out pf their minds. They said "does she really want his attention?," "can't she see that he is suffering because of him yet she has the audacity to act that he deserves it?," "you got a thick face". They were hostile towards me and very unwelcoming. Is it my fault that he was not doing well? They don't have an idea what really happened, so why I am the one being the bad person here?

I saw two people whom I knew, I thought they would be able to understand me. But they shoo me away. They are about to blame me too. I cannot stomach this. I asked them, "why? Is being raped okay? Do you know how hard it was for me to get through this alone?"

I was on my knees, hopeless and crying. No one seems to understand me, I reached out but no one looked at my way.

I woke up crying.

From the moment I woke up from that dream, everything collapsed. I started to fall apart; I cannot collect myself.

I don't feel like attending school but I am nit allowed to do so. I am afraid I might fail the subject so despite this emotions, i still attend classes but I failed to perform well. I feel disappointed with myself. My professor got mad at me too.

My somatic disorder started to creep in. I cannot eat. I feel like I am to vomit anytime. But I must appear fine. Nobody knows I am feeling this way. I cannot bring myself to tell my story.

I'd rather die. The ideas of dying appears again. After all, death must be a good thing. I hope I can die soon so I will no longer have this emotions; i will no longer feel alone; i will no longer be burdened with my obligations; and I will no longer pretend that i am fine.

I am tired and I just wanted these things to end. I wish to be buried.

03/18/22

00:44

I've been on Tumblr for nearly two years, and not once have I shown my face. (Yes surprise surprise the Lego head isn't my actual head 😂) But I felt like now is the best time to remain confident.

As someone with PTSD and depression, sometimes my mind goes dark, and I feel trapped, I start to feel down. But then I remember to turn on the light, I brighten myself up again. I know everyone has different experiences with mental health but so long as they have the light to guide them away from their personal darkness, the easier it'll be to see their struggle and help them get by.

CAST

Wrestlebeard: Legbeard

Me: weeb and baby Legbeard/OP

Mom: my fucking hero

Ali: my awesome sister

Tink: fellow victim of S

Anyway here goes. I first met WB when I was 18 (She was also 18), and we were going to church camp (group was aged 16-18). She was the only other person wearing black and I introduced myself. She liked oingo boingo and wrestling, and wrote slash fiction about wrestlers. I loved manga and yaoi fanfics, so needless we became friends quickly.

After camp I met and became close to her friend Tink. Tink is the sweetest girl you could ever meet, and ended up getting an apartment with WB. They lived together for ten months before Tink suddenly moved back to Maine and wouldn't tell me why. (She later told me WB was abusing her for 10 month)

Fast forward 6 months. WB and I start hanging out again. She tells me all these horrible things about Tink and how she's a liar and really trying turn me against her. WB gets me a job where she worked and we applied for an apartment across the road from work. Red flag I missed: she insisted on putting each down as life partners on the lease application.

As soon as we move in together I end up under her thumb. She controlled every aspect of my life. What I ate. Where I went. What I wore. Who I spoke to. Even my dating/sex life was under her control. It literally got to a point where she decided the cut and color of my hair. She kept me isolated from my family and friends, constantly telling me my family didn't care about me.

Anytime her control would slip, she would just threaten to beat the shit out of me(she uses to box), and threatened to rape me as a joke.

About 5 months in I can't take it anymore. I call my mom and, bless her, she came RUNNING. We make a four day plan to get me out. I get all my things together. I keep my door closed at all times. I don't tell a soul. By the time Escape day came, I was so scared I was physically sick the whole day. Waiting for a text from Ali(in on rescue) I get a text from WB saying she'll be home that night. Que the dramatic music. Thankfully Ali got there and helped me get my stuff out and we were gone before she got there.

Needless to say my phone BLEW UP. She would say anything to make me come back. I held firm. I didn't go back to her. But I still had to face her when I went back to work. She would tell anyone loudly and pointedly how I skipped out on the lease. She groomed a handful of our coworkers to take her side. It got to the point i told our boss I didn't feel safe coming to work and corporate had to tell her to leave me alone or be fired. She ultimately was fired and I never saw her again.