I’m not trying

I’m married
I have a baby
my everything life
is going despite
the coronavirus bullshit
do I wonder, ‘what if?’
yes
though all these
things happened
with him
before the others

‘What others?’
I’m not getting into it
but I had no problem
telling him
the people I was seeing
besides him
he’s even seen my artwork
nobody else has
mistakenly
but still
he wasn’t just a person
I was sleeping with
he was my friend
everytime shit hit the fan
I went to see him to talk
even if he had
other intentions
I didn’t care
he saw me for what I was
never fed me lies
but questioned every time
‘why I never picked him?’

Because
some things you won’t forget
like the times he
forced himself upon me
and recorded it
and the threesome he tricked
me into

‘You enjoyed it’
he said
I did not
being an aggressive prick
doesn’t make anyone want
to stay with you

‘But your husband is’
he can be
when he’s pissed off
who isn’t?
but he knows what
‘Fuck off’ means

I published a book

“Hippie Girl” is based on real events from my life. It’s fictionalized for legal and storytelling reasons.

‘Oh, you’re trying to cover you ass?’ Maybe. I mean, I still work at the place all the chaos and illegal shit went down. I recall asking a few people in the story of it was okay I’d use them such as my sister, husband, and mother. All the names have been changed too.

‘Why?’ To respect people’s privacy, legal reasons, and we don’t need the assholes to know I definitely wrote about them!

‘So then, what is it about?’ You have to read it to find out, haha. If you’ve been here awhile you have an idea. All my work together could create a version of this fucked up story.

But basically… this girl, Lila finds herself constantly in weird situations with guys. Her mother’s death definitely didn’t help any. It’s like she replaced one problem for another! Eventually, shit happens and she has to leave all of that behind.

‘Is Lila you?’ Yes and no. Yes, she goes through some shit I did. And no, that’s not my name and she’s a ‘fictional’ character.

‘What does your husband think?’ He wants to read it but I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. We talked about it’s context last night. He seemed to have forgot I had a threesome.

‘Why I didn’t publish it under my marital name?’ Well, for the fact I want to have my private life, private and I’m the only Sandra in this world I know of work that last name. I doubt I’ll ever be that big. But either way, I don’t want to be found! Whereas my maiden name, good luck! I also had this conversation with my mother before she passed and my husband before we married. My mother said, ’it’s your name, do what you want’.

‘What are you doing next?’ Honestly, I don’t know. If you want my honest opinion this story isn’t going to be successful. That’s okay, I knew that. It’s an odd story. Nobody knows who I am. It’s probably not that great. I didn’t even want to write it but it was a monkey on my back. Now the air is clear I can focus on things I actually want to write. It’s not about money. Nobody is paying me shit expect my employer!
 

Stranger

I don’t know
who he is
he follows
stares at me
alone or
with his girlfriend
sitting next to him
we haven’t
exchanged
a single word

People notice
but they don’t say
a single word
it’s ‘not a crime’
and doesn’t matter
he’s presence affects
my mental health

I’ve had a man
with the same
blonde hair
blue eyes
follow me
for years
he left me
traumatized
after he
sexually abused me
threatened to kill me

He was someone I knew
personally
not a stranger
like this man is

I am forced to be silent
about this issue
among other things

To be continued

I was a child

Four years old

A boy kissed me on the bus

I ran home to my mother crying

‘I am pregnant’

because kissing meant sex.

 

I met my first best friend

I met my first boyfriend

 

 

Five years old

 

I was sitting in a bath tub

with my best friend

she opened her legs up

in front of me and started

playing with herself

 

She got up from the tub and stood over the toilet

like a boy

and pissed all over the place

 

I was disgusted and confused

did my ‘privates’ look like hers?

Was she really a boy? She ‘went’ like one.

Why can’t I do it?

 

Why can’t I be a boy?

 

One night…

 

I stayed at her house

her stepfather came in her room

at the middle of the night

and molested her

I’m not sure what exactly happened

I was laying on the floor confused

in a dreamlike state

It was pitch black, all I could hear was crying

 

I wasn’t sure if he got me too or if I was dreaming

he rubbed something on my crotch

and told me not to tell anyone

I ran out of her house to mine

and that was that

(I blurted it the next day to my mother)

(he eventually got caught by the mother — and arrested)

 

Love is a disorder?

Confused

Can’t tell if it is real or fake.

 

Over-thinking

Debating in my head if I really feel anything.

 

Angels fighting Devils

It was wrong for me to say that and act that way. I should apologize or change my attitude. Fuck that shit, they come to me. If not well, oh well.

 

A third person comes in

Why be with you? They so want to bang me. It is true, they even gave me their number and told me to text anytime.

 

I am nothing, I deserve nothing — am worthless

All I got is you. No name, no career, and nothing else to look forward too. It’s an endless dry cycle — but it’s better when I see you.

 

I should change

Am too weird. I can’t really change that. I could, however; act like a doll and tell everyone in your life what they want to hear for us to avoid conflict.

 

Mind games

Don’t even know if we are playing. So busy mirroring the image the other person wants.

 

Relentless

Just keep going, going, and going… we don’t know what we are doing or if it is coming out anywhere. What can we do? We are both ignorant — and full of shit too.

Problems with an ’emotionally abusive’ relationship

You don’t know if you are really being abused.

It’s all in your head. People say you are. You match the signs you read online. Nothing else is going well in your life.

 

It must be your partners fault.

You feel like shit physically/emotionally. Expectations of your self/others and everyday life have built up.

 

You’re pretty much done.

You don’t see the point in fighting anymore. You’re just dragging your feet along. People seem to think there’s a reason for this. Maybe there is, maybe there isn’t. They don’t know you. They don’t understand.

 

Your partner is ‘stuck’ with you.

You’re both in a rut. You mutually feel like shit. No one is causing the other any pain.

Caffeine Abuse

It’s not a problem, everyone drinks it. Some drink it more than others.

It’s a huge part of our culture. People I see everyday don’t see it as a problem.

Only I acknowledge it as a potential problem.

 

I’m drinking 7 large ice coffees and 4 litters of soda in a week. The coffee is because I like it. The soda is because I feel tired or miserable. I use it to give me a high after I have been working out or doing work for hours.

I know it is bad. There is really nothing I can do. I can’t stop. It makes me wonder what the future will hold, like I’ll become an alcoholic or something if I have the money and easy access to it. I know once I start drinking, I can’t stop. I drink to get drunk — like I drink caffeine to get a high.

When I try to quit, I just go right back. My head hurts, I’m exhausted and miserable. I try to replace it with non-caffeinated soda or tea. That does nothing, I don’t like it. I am set in my ways. I go back to my ways.

If I could get professional help I would. That costs time and money which I don’t have. What I can do is at least try to control my impulses and energy. I can’t say I’m going to stop or drink less because I am compulsive. I need to find a way not to lose my mind and annoy everyone else around me when I am withdrawing.

Yet, nobody sees me withdrawing. Nobody sees me period.

 

This is an invisible illness.