It's Probably A Good Thing

Before all of this happened to me I never once thought about harming myself. I never thought about killing myself. After this happened to me I thought about downing a bottle of pills and chasing it with vodka to make sure it slowed my system down enough to do the job. Hell, I even have a razor blade that I made plans on using. I wrote a note explaining why I killed myself. These weren't passing thoughts. These were well thought out plans that I had every intention on carrying out.

September 20th I found out that I was pregnant. Everything changed. I no longer planned on harming myself. For me to do that to myself now, would be the same to me as me having an abortion.

Sometimes lately, especially times like right at this moment. I regret that I am pregnant. Not because of how hard being pregnant will be on me or because the birth will undoubtedly be excruciatingly painful, but because I can't in good conscious down a bottle of pills and chase it with vodka or use the razor to spill my life. I am trapped in this unwanted life until this baby is born.

I pretend that I am strong. I keep hoping that if I pretend hard enough, long enough that it will somehow become true. It's just as naive as hoping and wishing that I was never in that van. It's pointless because I could hope and wish for the rest of my life and it wouldn't change one second of time that I spent in his van. Even him pleading guilty doesn't change anything. He will more then likely spend the next 30-50 years in prison for what he did, but it doesn't matter. The things in me that he broke can't be fixed in 30-50 years. I can't fix them in 100 years. Time can't fix this kind of broken. JaimeIsBroken and there's no Band-Aid big enough.

I'm tired of pretending to be brave. I'm tired of acting like I am handling this well. I don't have the strength in me anymore.

I prayed to GOD that he would let me die. I prayed that prayer while I was in the van, and I have prayed it a dozen times before I found out I was pregnant. I am so ashamed to say that I prayed recently that I would lose my baby so that I could send some pills down a vodka water slide without killing the baby. I know how insane these thoughts are and I really don't give a flying fuck right now.

Right now I am angry at GOD for allowing this to happen to me. If he's "our father" and his love towards us is so strong, why didn't he just simply "will" me out of that van. He's all powerful right? It would simply be as complicated as a thought to him, but no, he left me in there to be violated in horrible ways by an evil person that he created.

There's 2 possibilities. 1) God views us with disgust and as if we are dirt to be scraped off his boot. - OR - 2) He doesn't exist and we are simply the random results of the interaction between matter and energy that somehow created self-awareness.

Dad will probably see this post on my blog. Hell, I might block him so that he doesn't. I really don't know. He'll probably try to use my pregnancy as a lesson of sorts and tell me that it's probably a good thing I became pregnant so that I wouldn't hurt myself.

If I'm this messed up now, how am I going to be once the hormonal change makes me emotional?