Not so fun at the Fair

****Warning Label**** this post is not for the faint of heart/the wimpy/the young/ or anyone who doesn't like graphic details. This is My story and it isn't pretty. I went through something this week that brought it up and I need to get it out. If you read it, I thank you. Do NOT feel sorry for me. I AM a survivor. Yes, I hurt. Yes, I struggle. BUT I AM ALIVE and I am a better person, in part because of all of my struggles. That being said...here goes.


I am sure that through my therapy process, I will go through all the years leading up to this time, so I am going to jump to about my Junior year of high school. I had been dating the same guy since the end of January. He was my first. He was an ass. He cheated. He lied. He manipulated. But HE is not what this is about really, so we skip to late June early July of that year...1988. This boy and I were having issues (shocking I know) He was living with his brother and hanging out across the street at this guy's (we will call him K) house who was 20...he was there so often that I had to call over there to talk to him. Well, that led to me talking to K when I called to talk to my boyfriend, because I was 17 naive and unsuspecting. Honestly, I was totally clueless. K would get me on the phone and ask me questions and I had no idea why. So, because my boyfriend was there so much and there were no cell phones...they both knew where I was most of the time.


Forward to July 3rd or 4th. I was babysitting for a family. This is hard to explain because I babysit for several adults from the same family. On this night, I had all the kids at one house. I was at the grandparents house. (they had adopted one of their grandchildren and were raising her) So, I had that granddaughter, their daughter's 2 daughters and their son's boys.


Confused yet? I am. Bottom line. I knew this family. Very well. Creepy part. They lived in my Great grandmother's old house and my mother, my sister and I had lived in the very same house when we first moved back from Florida. Talk about strange.


Anyway...I just took some Ativan, hopefully I will be a tad less scattered as this progresses.


With me so far? Let's try to move on...


The evening that I was babysitting, K shows up where I am babysitting. I have blocked a lot of it out. I am trying to remember now and I can't. I remember he showed up and was just chatting with me. I remember that the kids were inside watching TV and it was after 8. I remember being in what was my old bedroom (how effed up is that?), but I don't recall how I got there. I remember not wanting him to touch me at all, but him doing it anyway. Next thing I know, I am flat on my back, screaming no. I don't remember him leaving. I don't remember the kids. I showered. I was numb, in shock.


The daughter and son whose kids I was babysitting came home. The daughter wanted me to go someplace with her and I was 17 and had just been raped. How much worse could my night be? She said, don't worry I will get you home. She was maybe 23 or 24. I was still in shock.


We went of all places to my boyfriend's brother's house. She had hooked up with him that night. She wanted to get laid. I wanted to go home. No one talked about rape in 1988 in small town America. So, I said nothing.


This "woman" didn't get me home until 7:30 am. I tried my best to explain the situation. That I was with the mother of 2 of the kids I was babysitting and didn't know what to do. I was a good kid. I did not get in trouble. I was responsible. I didn't drink. Yet, my mother and my step father chose not to listen. Instead, they grounded me. ALLLLLLLL summer. No phone, no friends. NOTHING. AND I had to work 40 hours a week for nothing in our family business. My kids haven't got a CLUE how easy they have it. Not a freaking clue.


Anyway, hurting like hell. Now grounded. Summer gone. Needless to say, I was pissed off at the world, but inside I was still little miss goody two shoes. I was so naive and so clueless about the world and boys and even what had happened to me.


Within a week, I had devised a plan to runaway. No lie. I had about $70 saved. I lived way out in the country and I went out my bedroom window one night and left a note. I don't even remember what it said.


I found my way to a phone and called a cab. I got to town. I found I had no place to go. Eventually I landed at a friend's house who had another young woman staying with her and her parents. Here's where my being so innocent and clueless got me into trouble. No one knew how innocent and clueless I was, everyone including my family wrongly assumed I had a clue. Oh, but if only!!!!!


This other girl was a year older and waaaaaaaaaaay more worldly that I was. She was dragging me all over with her. I went along. I had no idea what she was into at all. She was into men and boys and whoever. I don't know her history or how she got to be the way she was, I only know that as I followed her around, it was presumed that I was promiscuous when I was not. (but I didn't realize that this was the assumption until years later, looking back)


This leads me to the fair. (you wondered when we would get there didn't you?) This young woman knew one of the carnies and he was much older and could I entertain his 19 year brother while she was hanging out with the guy. Uh, ummmm, I don't know him, but ummm maybe I guess. So, off she went. It was during the day and the place was practically deserted. Most carnies sleep in, it seems because they are up late partying or so I was told. So, this guy and I were walking around and he said he needed something from one of the tents. I'm clueless and I go with him. These are huge tents and again there is no one around even though its broad daylight, (Ativan, you can help me now)


First, he tries to kiss me, eh I'm kinda shocked...kinda creeped out. I back away. He pushes forward. I put my hands up and push back but carnies carry heavy shit all the time and this kid is built and my 115 pound ass is a joke to him. He just kept walking at me until I was up against a table. Then he pushed me onto the table, on my back. I am 5 ft 3 inches tall folks, my feet no longer touched the ground, I had no leverage and couldnt even move my torso. He was holding me down while I was screaming and managed to drop his pants. (lotta good that shit did with NOBODY TO HEAR) So, he shoved me down which hurt and ripped off my shorts, pinned me to the table with his hands then did his business. No condom. Rapists don't have safe sex. Rapists don't care about anything. Not the girl. Not pregnancy, STD's NOTHING. I stopped screaming and just turned my head away from his kissing attempts and cried. Then he pulled his pants up and fucking left. Just. like. that.


I don't swear much but..


FUCK YOU! 


The first time I didn't know what had happened, but the 2nd time I did. I told my boyfriend, for all the good it did me. I was a runaway. I didn't have my family. I had no witnesses. Gah. My boyfriend wanted to beat him up.


I wanted to die.


I have literally avoided the County Fair for over 20 years. I have slipped through the side gate to the Demolition Derby, but that is as close as I have been since 1988. No lie.


Until Monday.


I now live on the same street at the Fairgrounds.

It taunts me every time I drive my son to school. Every time I drive to Walmart. I literally drive by the ever loving place a few times a day. I don't always think of it. I'm 41...I have semi dealt with it I suppose. But my daughter wanted to go. My kids Aunt came over with my 10 year old niece. All ready to go to the freaking fair. I said "I don't go to the fair." Response, "Well neither do I, but the kids wanna go and if you go I will have someone to talk to." I have know her since we were 14, in my head I prayed she remembered but it was my pain and clearly she didn't because I tried several times to deter the group from this plan from hell.


So, I gathered up ALL THE FREAKING COURAGE I had and I agreed to go. I changed my clothes. I took some Ativan. I put bug spray on and I went.


I was freaking inside but nobody would ever have known. The kids were having a blast. They rode rides. I watched the carnies like a hawk. Don't look at me or my peeps funny or I will spork your eyes out, ya hear????? I was afraid to look at name tags. I remember the asshat's name, you see. I do not recall his appearance and I hope time has been unkind to him. I was shaking inside if not outside. I can't take a full dose of Ativan, so I wasn't as calm as I would have liked.


But, I freaking did it.


The kids aunt and I talked and the kids had fun.


The next day my nerves about gave out. I wanted to cry and just be freaking held so bad. I no longer have a true inner circle. I have a friend who I trust and love, but she has a big family and isn't always free so I wasn't able to unload. I messaged a long distance friend and that helped, but I never got to really cry.


My kids are tired of seeing me fall apart. They are older boys and they don't get it. I can not burden my daughter with something of this nature at 10 years old.


It really sucks to feel alone and isolated.


It sucks that I feel like my life has been such a mess. It sucks to feel like I have no one I can talk with.


BUT, I will figure this out. I will persevere. I will be ok and I will show my daughter what its like to be healthy and show my boys that women deserve better.


I will LOVE me no matter what my past is and know that it is ok.

Not sure I am ready for this

So, I have been going to counseling. This will be a good thing. I think. The first session was an intake. Why was I there, what was my problem etc. No big deal. The next two sessions were my therapist getting background information and history so she knows what to focus on in the sessions. 


She wants to focus on me being assertive. She wants to delve into why I have had relationship issues. She wants me to be ready to start with my earliest memories at Friday's session. As in, she said she wants me to discuss being 4 years old and what my family was like. 


Gah.


She wants the girl who has lived in semi-denial/semi-awareness for 41 years to OPEN UP. 


I spent most of those 41 years without real anxiety. NOW I have it. And bad. Just typing this and I feel the tightness in my chest, the heat in my face, the increase in my heart rate and blood pressure. The fear. The panic. Its gotten so bad that even on Ativan my heart races to the point that I feel like I almost "choke" on my heartbeat when I try to talk...the words won't come out for a minute. I will have to pause. Regroup. Start over.


Maybe, just maybe if I "tell" you first, telling her won't be so scary. I'm not sure what I am afraid of...being 4 wasn't bad that I recall. After that, my memories get more intense and less pleasant.


So, I think I will "journal" for me here...To lessen my fear. Hopefully.


She wants my early years.


I'm old. They are jumbled. When I was about 4 and my little sister was a baby, we flew from FL to NY to stay with my Mema and Pepa because my parents either divorced or separated. I was never sure. (Long story) We were in NY for 6 months. I remember getting off the plane. I remember staying with and loving Mema. I remember being afraid of Pepa. He had a brain tumor and was crazy but I didn't understand that. My mother was very afraid of him. (I didn't find out why until much later) I had an uncle who was 7 months younger than I was and we had a blast. My sister had bad asthma. I recall lots of ER visits. I remember popcorn strings and Christmas away from Daddy, Snow Angels. Day care. Falling down the stairs, crying, Pepa getting mad and my mother telling him off. 


I remember Dad coming to get us and driving back to FL. We arrived on Easter Sunday. Snoopy was waiting for me. He was as tall as I was and I was afraid of him. He ended up being my favorite stuffed animal. 


Nothing traumatic. I think. Then we moved. Dad went someplace else. This I vaguely recall. But he never really went away. I do remember going places with him. But it seemed like it was only my mother, sister and I for a short while. Dad moved back in. THAT WAS NOT GOOD.


Though jumbled, the memories get more vivid. The police at my house because my dad tried to choke my mom. My mom sending them away and lying about what had happened. I think a neighbor called the cops, not her. My mom crying ALL the time. They fought a lot. At the end of 4th grade, my mom came to my sister and I and asked us if we wanted to move back in with Daddy. Now, my sister is almost 4 years younger than I am.


I remember the day she asked us like it was yesterday. We were in the room we shared and on our bed being silly. I knew my sister would agree with whatever I said, she was only about 6 and a half at the time. I was 10 and all I kept thinking was, Mommy are you crazy? The words that came out of my mouth were "of course Mommy" She was all excited about buying a house. I was scared out of my mind. My father was never, ever mean to my sister or me, but I was always afraid for my mom. Always. 


The year that followed was the year from hell. 


How's that for a start????


I KNOW why I have relationship issues and issues with men in general. I am no dummy. I have a degree in counseling. I have relived most of my mother's mistakes, just in less time. I figured them out much quicker and put up with less. I also had a much less traumatic childhood than my mother had. She suffered severe abuse, I did not. She suffered it at the hand of the man she THOUGHT was her father but found out at the age of 30 that he wasn't. My family is a mess. I have almost non-existent family relationships actually. Except for having the best sister in the world. I feel largely abandoned by most of my relatives. 


I s'pose this counseling thing is going to be good then, isn't it?


I know that I have made mistakes and we all need to be forgiven. But I am very, very grateful that somehow my daughter possesses the spunk and balls that I never had. She does not hide her feelings about people most of the time. If I lost my mind and wanted to move Mr. Brady back in and I asked her what she thought, she would yell at me and I would be PROUD of her. I don't want her to repeat my mistakes, I want her to watch me get healthy and strong and have my power back and NEVER LOSE HERS. 


I have been a tad random, if you are still reading...hey thanks. I will chronicle my journey to a healthy me and maybe along the way we will all learn a thing or two.


XOXO


~M