Slightly Frayed, In Need of Repair

 This past month has been quite the eye opener. Since my last post I have seen my new therapist twice. I like him. I think he was a little shocked when I gave him the short version of my crazy life, but it was also very helpful. I'm doing two group therapy sessions each week. One is for PTSD skills and the other is for Depression. Not gonna lie, I hate online classes of any kind. It's just weird because no one has their cameras on. Feels very impersonal. My therapist recommended that I concentrate my efforts on what is being taught and not so much on the environment. Good advice! Well enough of that, where did I leave off? Oh yeah, the neighbors moved away. They literally moved the entire mobile home out of the space and that was it, they were gone. It wasn't that long after that a new mobile home was moved into the space and a married couple moved in. They didn't have any children, but they were very friendly. The summer after they moved in, their niece came to visit.

Where in the hell did a month go? I can't believe my last post was on April 9th. If you read that post, then you know the last words I typed were "Still hiding". Well, I can honestly say that over this past month, I've been doing anything but hide. Since April was Sexual Abuse Awareness month, I decided that it was time to be vulnerable and finally speak up. I created a post and put it on my Instagram, Facebook Business and personal pages. I literally was shaking as I hit the post button, but nothing was to prepare me for what was to come. I started getting responses from others, sharing that they too, had been abused or assaulted. That they had been suffering from years of guilt. That they too were planning on finally getting help. Most of the people who responded, were people I knew, some since childhood. I can't even begin to describe the wave of emotions that came over me. There was an initial amount of sadness for the innocence lost, but there was equally rag

If you’re reading this then that means I changed it back to a public setting. It’s been a week since I wrote the last post and I was OK with it, but by the next morning, panic had set in. I started doing all the things that I had done for years that had kept me silent. Wondering about what others would think of me and what will my husband think. I just couldn’t have it out there and so I changed it from public to private. It pisses me off that I am still feeling the shame. Fuck! Will that ever go away? As I write this right now, it’s still private.  That last post took a lot out of me and it’s taken me a week to even get on here. There’s so much more I need to talk about, to write about, but I also need time to process it after I do it. I don’t know what happened to the little girl who lives next-door to me. I don’t know if she’s  still alive today or not. What she did to me was so wrong, yet it had to have been a learned behavior and like I said before, I’m positive there were things

  Before I tell you what happened on this particular night, I want you to know that I have been procrastinating for several days. These next words are going to be some of the hardest I write and I  have to warn you that what I will be sharing may be disturbing to many. In fact, it should be disturbing, because this never should have happened. I am telling my story, not for you to feel sorry for me, but because I need to heal. I need to stop feeling guilty for something I never asked for. I need to not feel shame or embarrassment because of the events that took place. I need to be able to tell that little girl that it wasn't her fault. I need to move on and stop letting this have power over my life. And maybe, just maybe, my words might help someone else. As best as I can remember, I was 9 or 10 years old on this particular evening. If you read my previous entry, then you know I had a neighbor next door that I had become friends with. I don't remember the specifics, but on this

So, I finally heard back...I have an appointment with the therapist but not until May 14th. This past year is keeping them very busy. Guess writing is going to have to do for now. Alright, enough of that. Let's talk about the new neighbors. Around the age of 9, a family moved in next door. I was super excited because they had a daughter a year older than me and now I would have someone to play with. My own sister is seven years older, so, we didn't spend much time together. The little girl and I became fast friends and she spent a lot of time over at my house, but we didn't spend much time at hers. I remember I used to hear yelling often coming from their place and I remember the few times I did go over, the house was really messy.  It's funny the things you remember. I used to get this feeling like something wasn't quite right, but on the other hand, I was jealous that they ate Ragu spaghetti sauce. For the life of me I have no idea why that made me jealous, consid

To be so innocent, so unaware of the evil that was so cleverly disguised. How I wish I could go back and tell her to be aware, to be on her guard at all times. I was in the 2nd grade when this picture was taken and it would be 3 more years before the first incident took place. When I think back on everything that I have experienced, it almost feels as if I'm looking at some Lifetime drama movie of the week. Seriously, this can't be my actual life. I mean, how much crappy stuff does one person have to experience. There's a reason I decided to start my story at age 7 instead of 9. This was about that time that the teasing began. As you can see from the picture, I was a chubby kid and that makes you a target for people to make fun of you. I've never understood why people think you're not as smart, just because you're overweight. It was even worse since my last name was Baker. I still hear the taunts, "Bake me a cake, as fat as you are!"  I tried not to le