tomorrow is D~Day

So tomorrow I'm meeting my new trainer for a "talk". He ask me to meet him before out next workout session. That can only mean one of two things: he is going to "let me go" and wants to do it asap.

I would completely understand!!! From the bottom of my heart I think this guy might just be to nice and my "damage" might just be to much for him. For me to think that my "shit" would bring someone else down is way to much to ask. The biggest thing I HATE about sharing my story is when people say "It's amazing you have survived to even be here"!! All that says to me is they don't understand what I've been thru and they think I should be dead.

When your 5 and someone is raping you, you really don't get the option to say "STOP, I don't want this so let me check out". Or when your 18 and a group of 5 guys are holding you down, ripping off your cloths and holding a knife to your throat you don't really think about saying "STOP, I don't want this so let me check out"! Not surviving is not an option and that SUX. But here we are, I'm 44 and I have survived and I now have no choice but to deal with it.

I'm hoping that he wants to get together so we can figure out a "plan" on how he can help me be a better/stronger person.

I'm holding out that there is a chance that God has sent him to me and he is GOING to help me be a stronger person. A person who can stop living in fear......

to nurture or to be nurtured?

In my salon I have a reputation for always having the criers. There is always a box to tissues at my station. It's not because I make them cry over what I've done to their hair but instead it's because they sit in my chair and feel comfortable enough to spill their guts (just in the last two weeks I've had two clients tell me their husbands are cheating and they are thinking about divorce). I'm a great listener and will hug when forced. lol

I LOVE it that people are able to open up to me (is that because they know I'm more damaged than they are so it's safe?), but what happens when I want to open up to someone?

I LOVE my husband and he really is the answer to my dreams (he makes me feel secure and safe).

But he is not a listener or a nurturer. He admits this right up front:)

NONE of my friends know my "story". The only person outside of my parents and my partner who I have shared my store with is my trainer. I'm starting to wonder if that is such a good ideal? I want to be able to talk about my crap with it's on my mind but I need to decide is that need more important that my privacy. My friends think of me as the person to come to when they have problems NOT as the person who has the freaky past. I DON'T want to be known by my past yet I admit I am being held prisoner by my past.

a bunch of nothing

I'm just going to start typing and see what happens and THEN I will decide the "title" of this post.

First I want to talk about the guy I had "picked" up at the bar and was walking home with when we got jumped by the "bashers". I think there's a reason i can't remember his name! I am able to escape the guys who are trying to "do me harm" and get home to Michael. He takes me to the ER (we tell them I fell down the stairs) and I spend a couple of days in the hospital with broken ribs and lots of bruises. I refuse to tell the police what really happened (because somehow I'm sure it's really my own fault).

Well to sum it up the guy I was bringing home from the bar ended up breaking into our house and stealing a bunch of stuff. I refuse to press charges but Michael does press charges and the guy gets arrested. He gets out and actually breaks into our house again!!!!!

The investigating cop actually calls my parents and tells them I really need help and ask them to come to Phoenix.

My mom actually shows up one day and tells me she here to take me home. I actually feel "loved and relieved" and pack up and go with her. On the way home she then tells me that what I'm going thru is God's punishment for being Gay and if I don't get my shit together I am for sure going to HELL!!!

I remember setting in the back seat of the car for the two day drive just not understanding how God could be punishing me but not Wayne or Randy?

to move on or not?

I didn't see this coming but now I'm torn between moving on the the next phase (not even sure what that is) or to keep listing off more and more shit from my past. I've been reading thru my last few post and I just keep getting more memories of horrible things. There is a huge part of me that wants it ALL down, EVERY SINGLE MEMORY!!! But another (yet smaller) part of me thinks ENOUGH of the bad shit lets get started healing.

I think to deny a concentration camp prisoner the right to speak the horror's that were done to them would be another crime but I also feel that as long as I keep dwelling on this shit the longer before I can move past it.

now on to the real shit

This is the post I've been avoiding all along. for some reason writing about being raped and beat as a child is easier than being raped as an adult. I think for some reason I'm able to think that the shit that happened to me as a child is in no way my fault but the shit that happens to me as an adult I have to accept as my responsibility for some reason. I realize as I'm writing this that it's bullshit but that is not how I feel in my heart.

I'm skipping ahead thru alot of crap (I get hit by a car and spend a year on crutches, miss half of my senior year of school. My mom finally figures out I'm gay and has a melt down. My grandmother stands up for me and tells my mom to get over it. I get a SEVERAL thousand dollar settlement from the car wreck and my mom just gives me a check and says good luck).

So I'm 18 and I talk my best friend into moving away to Phoenix.

So now Charles and I have moved to Phoenix (at 18 years of age), we don't know a soul but we are trying to make it.

Charles and I try to make it for a few months and it's not going well and we decide to split up and go our separate ways.

I move in with this guy named Michael who I met at a bar and things are actually going well.

I'm working for a nursing temp service (during my senior year in high school I get a "certificate" that lets me be a nursing assistant) and easily able to pay my half of the rent.

Michael is a bar whore and so I learn to visit the bars every night in search of happiness.

One night I meet a guy at the bar and we decide to go back to my place. During the walk back to my place we are being followed by a group of guys (5 to be exact). They start yelling gay slang at us and we start running trying to make it home. During the last block we (my "date" and I are separated) and I get tackled in my neighbors yard. I'm only one yard away from making it home!!!!

5 guys take me down in the yard NEXT to mine and start beating the shit out of me. They are kicking me in the head and chest. I can not describe what I am feeling at this moment!!! I really think that GOD has finally answered my prayers and I'm going to die. These guys are really trying to kill me!!! They are trying to get me clothes off so they can rape me and then they are going to cut my throat (this is what they are saying while they beat the shit out of me)!!!

One guy is holding my head with a knife at my throat, theres a guy at each arm and the other two are trying to get my pants down. These guys are really going to kill me!! But they are going to rape me first. I remember thinking they hate fags and they want to kill me so why are they trying to have sex with me? The guy between my legs is saying how he's going to teach me a lesson and then he's going to kill me!

My pants are down and a guy is on me and I bite a HUGE chunk out of his arm and start yelling AIDS at the top of my lungs!!!! The person's yard that we are in turns on the porch light and that scares the gang and they leave me be. Now I'm left laying naked in my neighbors yard with my pants down and VERY vulnerable!!! I want to say that i really did think that these guys were going to kill me and leave me for dead. I couldn't believe that this guy I brought home from the bar had left me to get killed by these assholes.

two separate issues going on here: First and foremost I've been raped by a gang of "gay haters"

and second I trusted this guy to take care of me and he runs when things get tough!!!

he actually showes up at my house the next day and says how scared he was for me. BULLSHI!

I'm going to stop now because I need to process this asshole and see what comes next.