Not feeling great

 I think my social skills have gotten weaker. I've managed to piss off someone who was supposed to be my best friend because I was mad my maid of honor was going to throw a bachelorette party for her, before mine, after she's been married a few years.... I don't even know why she's going to my bachelorette party still. 

I managed to piss off an entire band as well as "people" in the music scene who think I'm a jerk or something. 

This morning when I went to wake up my fiance I had to mention that thing he did while we were in Florida. 

I just want to crawl out of my own skin. 

My manager at work thinks I'm full of it because I asked for mileage to be expensed. 

I suck. 

9-6-2022

 Next month would be nine years. Nine years since the first weekend of my trauma. Nine years since my high school bf convinced me doing what I was doing was a good idea. Nine years of fun, dark, twisted, menacing, scary, and relieving torture. Nine years of having a phone number I didn't really connect with. I'm done. I'm free. It's over. 

What it's really like

You say you want to be his girlfriend?

You think you can handle his child(ren)?

Let me tell you what it's really like.

Imagine spilling your love to multiple people and it's more people than you ever thought you would at the same time. 

Imagine your spare energy, your spare money, and your spare time, always offering an opportunity to be used for someone else's needs. 

Do you know how much food it takes to feed and cook for yourself? Imagine multiplying it by how many people are in your house - every day. 

Nothing in your space is private unless its locked. 

No amount of effort, love, and money will make you their parent or anything close to their parent. 

Your opinion on parenting doesn't matter. 

But these are things you expected right?

Let me tell you things you probably don't expect. 

While you are giving 2x+ the amount of love you would in a childless relationship you will only get 1/2 or less of that back to you. 

Don't expect little open arms, expect closed ones, that you will have to pull open yourself with resistance if you really want them. 

Don't expect to fulfill what their parent(s) are not because you are not them. 

Children are focused on their world, with their parents, and their activities. Your activities, your accomplishments, and your announcements don't mean anything to them unless it affects them, usually negatively. 

While they are allowed to tell their parents everything and anything - you have a spy in your house who will tell a person who hates your guts anything they want to know about you.

 

What do we want?

Sometimes I think about how much "easier" my life could be if I didn't have to worry about this mans three children. How, I have no strings attached yet. Do I want strings attached? Do I want to have a big family or do I want a small family? Do I want to help or do I want to be selfish? Do I want to "make it work" and have him "make it work" for another, when neither of us really get what we want? Is that what I'm doing? Or are we or will we be genuinely happy? Right now... I feel half happy. I'm happy that I have a wonderful shelter and most of things I want, and a loving boyfriend. The part of me that is not happy is all the worrying I do regarding three teenagers. Sometimes I imagine them not being in my life, when clearly they always will be as long as I'm with their father. I also imagine him passing first, and me never hearing from them again. I wouldn't want that either. So what do I want? 

Someone who is as smart / kind / outgoing as the boyfriend I have now. 

Someone who speaks Spanish, like the boyfriend I have now. 

Someone who has no kids and wants one.

Someone who has a degree and a car and maybe a house, which he has. 

So that's my problem right?

There's one thing that he doesn't have and that's what I'm fixated on. 

But it's hard not to be when your life is engulfed in this 24/7.

Hm.

I was homeless

I was 15 in Highschool when my Mom showed up high on drugs. She pulled me out of class, and told me we were going to get my things from our house so that her and I could go into the women's battered shelter almost an hour north. I hadn't seen my Dad hit my mom for a few years... but it was really bad. I think I had even told her they should get divorced. But I never thought it would be like this. When we got to the house there was a van in the driveway. Someone was picking us up and taking us. My mom through me in between my Mom and Dad and told me to choose who to go with. My paraplegic father or my drugged mother. I foolishly chose my Mother. But maybe I know this experience has made me who I am today. I went with her because I knew she had nobody else, while my Dad's parents lived down the road. I was crying and told my Dad I didn't want to leave but ultimately did. I remember after doing a ton of paperwork and talking to adults I'd never seen before- walking into the house with two or three other women. One was so skinny I remember her grey stained over sized sweat pants looking weird on her. Sandy, the old neighbor next door from my, now Dad's, house had given me a beautiful cross necklace and two big blue suitcases. I always had the necklace on and remember protecting my suitcase in our room. My mom and I would take turns if we had to go to the communal fridge to get donated food I had never eaten before. She had to talk to her online boyfriend who lived in England. I remember us walking to a corner store so she could spend some of the only money we had for her to get international phone cards. I was crying mad. I think it was near Christmas because I remember in the city the shelter was in there was a giant Christmas Tree outside. 

I was pulled out of school for maybe a month and would text my friends telling them what I was going through. I always thought my home life was better... they ended up giving us a house that we could pay rent for very cheaply and it was completely furnished. I cried when I saw my beautiful room they had put together. 

I think about this now because I live in a beautiful home in a beautiful neighborhood would a wonderful boyfriend.

His kids are sort of driving me crazy though and I've thought about going back to a shelter because I have no money. 

If you ever drop to the lowest of the low you're suddenly not scared of it anymore. 

You realize you don't need anything. 

You don't need anything. 

Cheating by Sexting Again!

Let's just log this on here for my records.

First there was Marthajelica or however the fuck, then there was Tina, then there was Tammy, and now Sheila.

This morning I found sexts from my boyfriend to Sheila saying that he wanted to cum inside of her, bite her ass, and sent a dick pic.

I literally went into the bathroom where he was taking a shower swung the door open and shoved him.
I kinda feel bad about that
Started screaming, throwing things, and left.
He doesn't seem to think that sexting is cheating and he said he was "Just playing."
I finally told him I hated him and I wanted to break up, and that I was going to live at Wayne State.
How fucking disrespectful.
I literally have been working my ass off FOR HIM. And this is the thanks I get.
Well fuck him and fuck you and fuck this entire world.
Because I can never have anyone decent in my life.

My mom is bi-polar.
My dad hasn't been able to physically pick me up or carry me since I was 6 years old.
My 1st boyfriend was basically a predator dating a 16 year old while he was 20, never could carry a job and snuck into my Dads house constantly to sleep with me.
My 2nd boyfriend was physically abusive and I thought I was going to die from suffocation once. He's now in prison for child pornography.
And now this boyfriend can't keep his dick in his pants if he tried.

I'm done.
I'm fucking done.
I don't want to be here anymore.
As in this house.

But for some reason something is holding me back.
I don't know WHAT THE FUCK TO DO.

I literally got in my car and was just driving crazy going up on curbs and screaming my face off.
THIS IS NOT HEALTHY.
Why do we as women put up with this.
I told him I'm breaking up with him and he didn't even respond.
Like he's not taking me seriously.
I honestly want to take all my stuff and just go somewhere.

I’m not trying to “brag” about how much shit I’ve been through.
In fact I don’t want your sympathy.
I just want to write my story.

10/10/1995 the child was born. She was named Veronica.
January 2003 her Daddy fell at work and became a paraplegic.
After he got out of a coma and she lived with various family members, her family was reunited.
Her mom was 27, her Dad was 38, Veronica was 7.

In 2004 her mom went to rehab for narcotics. The drugs that never left the house and kept coming in.
2008 they decided to move 3 hours north for a new start and help from my Grandparents to take care of my Dad.
It was very different. No malls, 70 kids in my grade, compared to the 300 in my middle school 6th grade class and everyone was depressed because their were no jobs.

I lied and told my parents I was being severely bullied because I wanted to go back.

Instead they took me to a nearby school of choice, which ended up being in the bottom 4% test score wise in Michigan.

Things started to look up though, in 2009 Veronica got homecoming queen - and she was allowed to have boys and girls stay the night.

We would camp, go tubing, jump on the trampoline, no cares in the world.

By the middle of 2010 my parents divorce happened.
My mom was still so messed up on drugs she took us to a women’s battered shelter, where I ended up living for months. Until they gave us a home of our own on the women’s battered street, with others in the same situation.
I did see my Dad give her a couple black eyes, but sometimes she wasn’t the best at taking care of him either.
You’re probably wondering how that happened since he’s wheelchair bound?
He pretended  like he’d fallen and couldn’t get up and when she came to help he clocked her in the nose.

After being pulled out of school, I went back. And was finally happy.
But then who I thought was my best friend, told everyone all my family secrets and I ended up breaking my hand from punching her in the head too hard in the hallway at school. Thankfully, I was only suspended 2 days.

My mom let a tattoo artist move in, and that’s when I got the shittiest tattoo of what was supposed to be a peace sign on the back of my neck at the age of 15.

My mom got worse into drugs.
So I mostly stayed with my Dad and helped take care of him.

I got my third job at Goodwill at the age of 16. I was making 11.00 in 2011 which was really good! I saved up $3,000 over the course of 2 years to get my first apartment.

At 17 I had a boyfriend named Danny, who was 21 and we moved back to where I was from.

He coerced me to have sex with strangers for money while he waited outside.
First it was with blow jobs, then I went to a strip club and got raped by 5 men who led me out of the strip club early by paying all the ridiculous fees because I didn’t want to be there. The biggest one rode in my car and had me follow them to their hotel.
From then on I didn’t care about my body anymore.

After our lease was up we decided to go back up home. I found out he cheated on me, so I slept with his best friend.
I took him back after that.
We went to Nashville where I got into the porn industry.. which will haunt me for the rest of my life.

After we ended up in Flint, MI where he had friends, I found myself in the midst of the Flint water Crisis and even made it into a Michael Moore movie.
I also got into the weed business there and made good money.

When my bf wouldn’t get a job for years, I finally kicked him out.

One month later a convicted felon moved in who was 37 years old... I had no idea what I was getting into.

He also was in the porn industry so I thought we could relate.
But he wouldn’t stop.

He choked  me almost to death once and I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes.

I told him if he ever did that again I would leave.

8 months later, I packed everything in a Uhaul with my closest friends and moved out of my own house within 30 minutes.

Then in August of 2017 I met the love of my life, his name is Daniel too, and he also prefers to be called Danny.. though I didn’t call him that for at least 3 months.

He’s everything I think I’ve ever wanted from a man. He’s older also, 34 but he also has 3 kids from another woman who was an alocoholic and he has full custody.
I knew it was going to be a challenge.
But since I never had a family life, I know these experiences have taught me to become a real woman.
As of January 2019, I found out my ex, the old(er) one is being charged for child abuse/ child pornography / and producing.

It still makes me sick to my stomach.

He also has a now 5 or 6 year old who we took care of every other weekend. But I don’t think he did anything to him ever. He was more into young girls (16/17 maybe) idk really.

The kids thing is a real challenge, the three I’m taking care of now specifically. And I’ve had 2 abortions in the last year because he hasn’t wanted any more. Which is honestly the toughest pill I think I’ve swallowed in a really long time. The last one I had was honestly 2 days ago and my hormones are just going crazy.

I’m writing all of this at 2:04 am because nobody really wants to listen to all of this, and nobody will probably even read all of this. But it sort of makes me feel better.

I’ve overcome all of this and most days I still have a smile.

Don’t give up.

There are joys in life.

Sometimes they are just harder to remember I think.

Don’t define yourself by your tragedy’s.

Because you’re a lot more than that.

You’re an amazing piece of matter that so elequintly came together and your potential is truly limitless.

Your soul is your own.

Nobody else has to love everything about you.
But you.

Despite all of my mistakes I still truly believe that I am a good person.
The first time I had an abortion I prayed to God for forgiveness.
Now I’ve just reminded myself that it’s time I do it for the 2nd time.
It never gets easier and part of me is very upset that I’ve been put in a circumstance that required this outcome.

I love you all.

Even my unborn children.

Goodnight. 🌙

Tossing and Turning

I can’t sleep. All I can think about is a rape that happened to me 5 years ago. And I’m finally about to write about it. I was 18 years old, and I had decided I wanted to try to strip at a strip club... yeah great idea... eye roll. It was literally the first month I had turned 18, it was like I was waiting for the opportunity. I went out and I bought a $50 pair of 6” heels, and grabbed a stupid bathing suit they said I could wear... I answered an ad on Craigslist, which was what I and my boyfriend at the time were notorious for doing. It was in Pontiac, or Dearborn... I can never distinguish the two for some reason. When I got there the hiring manager had me try to dance on a side pole... I don’t think I could have been any good. But he told me to stick around, I would be put in the rotation and to just “ask the girls” what prices were for the back room. I had no idea that all the money to be made was going on back there... and I had no idea what I was doing.

My first dance... and the strap of my shoe breaks, but I keep treading on and get really empowered being naked on a stage with the entire room watching me. Then after I get off stage, a gentleman approaches me and asks to take me in the back. I agree, he gives me a low ball price and I said okay, but there was no dancing. Just me sucking him off.... bareback ew! I have no idea why I even went with it.. I guess I thought it was normal and everyone else was doing it... which I think they were. I go out, and I notice a sign on the wall this much price for this many songs. And I thought, hey I should’ve got more. So I asked the bouncer naively “Hey, do they give you any money?” They started freaking out asking him. I said “oh it’s okay, it’s okay!” I thought to myself “I’m just a fucking moron.. and I don’t want to be here anymore.” I go to the vending machine and buy a pack of cigarettes... I don’t smoke, but I did that night. I remember the god-awful picture I took in the mirror of me smoking with nothing on but a bathing suit and a broken heel.

Next, the DJ called me over. He said I had missed my 2nd call and I now owe $60. I go back up with my broken shoe again and tried. After I got off stage a group of guys.. I want to say they were middle eastern.. maybe Chaldean or something.. start talking to me. They really boosted me up, they said I was smoking hot and they saw me when they walked in. I told them it was my first night there. They offered to pay me a great deal if I left with them to their hotel room... I told them I’ve only had sex with my BF and I don’t do that. But I’d be willing to give them head for that price. They agreed. As I went to leave the bouncer tells me I’m not allowed to leave unless I pay out more than I had. AFTER paying everyone else out.. which ended up being over $200. I had less then $50 left in my pocket, so going with those guys seemed like a good idea... especially after they had offered to pay for my way out.

They were smart. I had thought about getting in my car and taking off, but they made sure the biggest  guy got in my car with me and had me follow them. When we pulled up to a dingy motel, I soon realized they hadn’t even had a room yet and I was stuck standing right next to them. As we went up the stairs, looking back now I wish I would’ve claimed I left something in my car and ran out, but instead I followed - hoping to get the money they promised me for little work.

When the door closed everyone’s clothes were off and there were 4 of them and 1 of me. Everyone was giving or receiving oral, and the next thing I knew someone was inside of me. I started crying and I said “No Please, I didn’t want to do this.” But 1 in particular made sure to keep going until he was done, then he handed me off to another, and another. I didn’t stop crying. When the last guy, the one who rode in my car, was on top of me and saw my tears he asked me what was wrong. I said “I didn’t want to do this. I had saved myself for my bf.” he finally climbed off with sympathy in his eyes. He made it clear to the others it was time to let me go.

They gave me weed, and the money they had promised. But they took my self-worth, my dignity, and  my sanity. I left and cried the whole long ride home alone. When I got to my apartment, I crawled in bed with my boyfriend, fell asleep, and told him the next morning all the money was from the strip club but I was never going back.

I never went to officials because I thought it was all my fault. I thought “I’m stupid enough to get in that situation - I deserved it.” I never told my boyfriend because I thought “I want to at least come home with X amount of money for stripping, besides it would break his heart.”

It’s taken me 5 years to accept that this was in fact a rape.

Believe sexual assault victims.

I can’t sleep tonight because of this incident from 5 years ago.

I can’t sleep tonight.

Help me not care

When I'm home alone I'm always looking. I'm doing the absolute opposite of what I've always thought I was capable of. I don't want to care. I don't want to worry about what you're looking at, who's talking to you, or what your liking.
It's too much like my ex.
It's too controlling.
I've. Never. Cared. So. Much.
I'm really not sure what it means.
Maybe I love him more than anyone else.
But he doesn't look at my things until I tell him too.
And that hurts.
Because it is painfully obvious who is more in love here.

Please don't hurt me.

And I'll try my damnedest not to push you away.

In hopes of feeling better...

I am writing to you all, and myself. Staying with someone who you found out cheated on you is hard. In fact, it’s much worse than leaving. When you leave you get to tell all your friends about them, and parade around feeling good about yourself that you left, calling them a “pos” and defining them by those actions to a crowd. You get to start over. See trust in someone else, more than you believe you ever could in your past lover again. In fact, you probably will trust others more than the person who hurt you out of survival… 

But when you stay, you prove your own loyalty. You prove you are not a quitter. You go against all odds and hope for the best. You don’t think you trust them, but really you are. Every day. Again and again. Without telling anyone what happened. You know you’ve built something great, something not worth giving up. 

Yet we’re the ones who look crazy on our bad days, on our sad days. Because nobody understands, even the person who hurt you. 

We are our own warriors. 

We all have our own reasons for the decisions we make. 

I’m laying in the bed I made. 

I just hope it gets warmer.

Today is an Important Day

I changed emails in my phone.

From that life to this life. 

It is a day to celebrate.

07/14/2018 4:17 pm

I'm sitting at my desk near a beautiful window on the second story of a house I moved into last month in Rochester Hills, MI. I'm here, because it is my boyfriends house. His mom from Costa Rica, his three children, him and I have been here for the summer. All of us are here year round, besides his mom.

I'm having trouble with some things.

I'm 22 and he's 34.

This in theory shouldn't be a problem right?

Usually it isn't.

But today he did say to me "I've never been with a woman who didn't have a handle on the kitchen."

This makes me so sad.

It stems from my childhood. I was an only child... who was never forced to eat anything she didn't want, who could throw anything she wanted away and who was served however/whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it. It sounds selfish right?
I never fully understood how selfish being an only child could make you.

I've never lived with anyone besides my parents or one bf at the time.

So, it is challenging for me to eat with them.
It sounds silly.
It is silly.
But it also isn't silly at all.

It feels like every time I've made a meal someone doesn't like it.
I asked his Dad for help and his Dad laughed at me and told me that I should be able to figure it out.

But I was never taught anything in the kitchen.
The only thing my mother ever taught me in the kitchen was how to scrub my Dads wheelchair marks off of the floor.
And I swear to god that is the truth.

My grandma taught me how to make a strawberry pie once.
A nurse taught me how to make pork chops with shake and bake.
An ex-boyfriend taught me his grandmothers trick to adding milk in scrambled eggs.
I tried Blue Apron on my own... and that was fun. But used expensive/rare ingredients not very practical for 5.

I honestly feel fucking low.

I made pancakes for his kids this week for breakfast once that would last a couple days.
I mean they have cereal and stuff..
But yesterday he got up before going to work and made breakfast for everyone. His mom clearly saw I was not cooking and said "Oh, Veronica. You're making breakfast?"
"Ha, no" I replied.
She exited the room.
I knew what she meant and I knew what they were all thinking.
I got the hint.
It was Friday.

Today is Saturday, and as we woke up from going to see a Yellow Submarine midnight premier the night previous he mentions that his mother was maybe upset with me for not getting up last week to make breakfast.
I said quickly "Yes, I did?"
He corrected himself, "You didn't make me breakfast."
I didn't answer, but thought to myself there just hadn't been a good day last week. We argued a couple mornings, I wasn't woken up, I had work/school, my final exam was Thursday. There's all of these factors. But it really made me feel bad.
The next words out of his mouth were to his oldest daughter "Hey, xxxxx, can you make me an egg?"
I said after there conversation was over to her "Don't worry about making your dad an egg I will handle breakfast."
When I went downstairs she refused to let me prepare the eggs. She said ultimately that she doesn't like how I add milk to them and wanted to add tortillas and all this other seasoning i'm not too fond of.
I really couldn't help but to come upstairs and cry.
Because I just wanted to try - and the other daughter has also told me that she didn't like that either.
They all told their father they didn't like the pancakes I made.
and it just makes me so upset at my mother and my father. For never teaching me anything.
This is my daily life. And I can't even get a handle on fucking breakfast.
You know why?
Because I had fucking bread with melted cheese on it for breakfast every day.
And I might have asked for it - but I didn't fucking know any better.
And SHAME every adult in my life that allowed this to happen to me.
Because now I'm in a beautiful, beautiful situation. And it's going to be ruined because I can't do anything in a kitchen.
I feel pathetic.
Sometimes people talk to me like I'm a child when they are teaching me the basics, and it makes me feel like a child.
It makes me feel less than a child when children would rather prepare the meal than allow me too also.
I have to figure something out.
If anyone reads this and has suggestions please comment below.
Thanks.

I hate how mean I can be to the ones I love

It's like I need to know I'm in control of every situation. That, no matter what happens I'll be okay. But I get in this awful defense mode where I say very mean things that I can't take back.. I hate it. But I don't know what to do. I don't want to stop because.... if I didn't have my words I would have nothing to protect myself. But at the same time I wish these words wouldn't be so permanent. I suppose they're not... but... it seems like they are.

DONT USE APPLE CIDER VINIGER IN YOUR VAGINA

For months I have been battling B.V and Yeast Infections... after being prescribed antibiotic after antibiotic I looked up home remidy's after the medication didn't work again. I found articles and articles praising natural less than 5% acidity Apple Cider Viniger will cure not only Yeast Infections and B.V but your skin,  hair growth, and all kinds of things! Even lists of different ways to use it! So I began, first with dipping my tampon halfway into a mixture of water and ACV inserted it inside me for 15 minutes, took it out and my itching had stopped! The next morning I went and ran a mile and a half, took a shower, and douched with mixture. Seemed to help again, finally right before I went to bed I sat in a container with the mixture up to my hips. I went to bed feeling good about using home remidys to cure myself until...


I woke up and my labia was swollen up to 5X in size!! It's freaky looking!! It hurts! It's itchy and I have discharge spilling out all over, including when I pee! This is horrible. I've never seen anything like it. I'm currently in the ER and the doctor who looked at me said it looks like Yeast, with a reaction to the ACV due to the inflammation.
Please DONT TRY THIS GO SEE YOUR DOCTOR

February 23rd 2016

Well I'm letting this sexy singer live with me.. a little soon?
Maybe..
But it's better than being alone.