May 19th, 1995, I was 27
I am on Prozac, still, and I am not doing too good at all lately. The only thing that cheers me up is eating or buying something, but that only lasts for a couple of hours. My husband, and my two daughters are the only ones that make life worth even trying to bare it. I feel worthless, tired and bored and I hate life. There must not be any hope for me, if prozac doesn’t work. When is life going to get better? One day I am going to tell this rotten world goodbye for good. (It may be sooner than everyone thinks). ~~~~~I was so miserable, and didn’t even know the real reason why. That’s the reason for the book I wrote, I don’t want anyone to think they’re crazy, if you’ve been through sexual abuse, you won’t be happy until you face it head on.
August 9th, 1991, on Friday
Well, I cleaned my mom’s house, now I’m bored. Nothing to do & no money. I am so sick of being stuck at home. I wish I had friends that liked to do things with me. The more days and weeks that go by, the more i think about ending my life! I wish I had the guts to, but I don’t! I hate this life, with no money! I hate always being at home. I hate thinking, I wish I could go through my life and not have to think. I want another baby so bad. It’s just not fair, I wish women could have babies without men. I think about one all the time. Yet it does no good. I miss having a small baby around. All I wanted to do today was eat. I’ve been so depressed, so many things I want and need but I can’t get. The responsibilities are all on me. I hate staying at home. I could honestly hurt someone or something. I just want to scream at the top of my lungs. I hate everyone and everything. I’m sick of being here!!!!!!~~~~~~At this time in my life, I still didn’t know what was wrong with me, what was causing my anger or depression, and neither did anyone else. No one was even trying to understand or help, they thought I was selfish, lazy, and displeased with my life. My mother obviously was still in my life also, I was cleaning her house for $15.00. It’s so evident when I read these, what was wrong, now at 44 years old I know. And it also shows me what God has truly done for me. In 1991 I was only 23.
August 7, 1991~~1:00 AM, Can’t sleep all I do is think. Daddy (stepfather that sexually abused me), is seeking help through a therapist, supposedly. If he doesn’t, moma said she is going to leave him. My husband and I are getting along good right now, I hope it continues. I wish he wanted to have another baby, I sure want one! I want one now so my oldest daughter can grow up with a brother or sister. I wish God would see fit to give us one by accident. If that happened we would know it was God’s will.~~~~ My stepfather didn’t continue counseling, he had 3 free sessions, and that’s all that was used if even that. The leaving by my mother was threatened after my stepfather told me over the phone he dreamed we had sex together, yeah, a real winner he is, huh? I was 20 and married, and he still couldn’t quit victimizing me. Needless to say, she didn’t leave him and never intended to. So many go through this and think they have to stay in a relationship with a parent or parents just because they’re blood relation. That is sooo not true. Get out, or you will continue to be a victim.
As kind of a way for you to see the difference in me from years ago till now, I’m going to share some of my journals with you: July 30, 1991~~Today has been an off day. Nothing to do, no where to go. You know when your crying doesn’t bother your husband anymore, that’s when it’s time to get out, one way or the other. Love just doesn’t mean much anymore now days. If it weren’t for my little girl, I wouldn’t even be here. This life is useless without you baby. I just want to die, I can’t live life normal anymore. I wish I had the nerve to do it. I just can’t, I would miss my little girl so much. She’s so pretty and smart.~~I was 23. God has brought me through so much! there will be more from my journals in the near future.