You gotta start somewhere

So I did a thing today. It’s been a long time coming, but I know I’ll never mend if I keep going on as I have.

God, it was so hard dialing the phone number. I literally made myself physically ill; my stomach was in knots, I kept having to use the restroom, and I had no appetite. But that wasn’t even the worst of it. The old feelings of anxiety we’re trying so hard to rise to the surface. I hate fucking anxiety!

As soon as the person answered, I knew there was no going back; I had to move forward. Of course, after almost 15 minutes waiting on hold, I find out that I needed to send an email. I have to admit, I did consider ditching the whole idea, but I put my big girl panties on and I wrote the damn thing. Man, I really hated seeing it staring back at me in black and white, but I hit “send”.

I got a response pretty quick. It was pretty cool that they recognized how hard it must have been for me to write the email and they assured me that they would forward my request to the right person.

So now I wait.

I hate waiting.

Comments

Still so innocent.

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...

The night that changed everything.

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...

Day 2 Is anybody out there?

By the way, did I mention I hate waiting? Didn’t hear back from anyone today. Seriously having an argument with myself about whether or not I should contact them tomorrow. I guess I’ll give them one more day, then I am contacting them. Honestly, I bet they’re really busy. I should have patience but anyone who knows me knows that’s not one of my strong suits. Have you figured out what’s going on yet? I keep debating on whether or not I should give you more details. I think what it comes down to is that I’m still procrastinating. For some reason I think it’ll be easier once I’ve gotten the phone call. OK, I’m going to give it one more day and no matter what, I’ll start sharing my story. Damn, this isn’t going to be easy.

Slightly Frayed, In Need of Repair

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