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They Say, Millions Have Had Some Type

They Say, Millions Have Had Some Type

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Published by: browa131431 on Jan 09, 2010
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05/17/2012

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They say, millions have had some type of abuse in their life time. For me, i have a dark  past. I too was abused in my life time. I vision the abuse. Sometimes the voices are louder than other times. Flash back. I could have been yet one year old placed in bed with myneighbor. The abuse can happen with anyone. This time, i was too young to know howmy body was made. I had to have been shown by someone i barely knew. Doctors say my body had been made that way since child birth. I never heard of having a body like awhore and being born into it. I had not been five years old in the hood when some stupid boy wanted to play house. I did not know how to play house. It seemed to be a fun game,at first. I was misleading into being the mom and he dad in bed. By the time i was nineyears old, my parents were being sued because i was immature. To prove their law suitwrong i had been mislead by my brother. It was a critical mistake that would burn my lifeaway. The neighbors asked to rape me. I did not know how lass Vegas were. I thought allgirls were whores in this city. When i found out none of them wanted to be a whore, ifound my place in the church. Funny, how my mother thought i brought it upon myself to be treated that way. I was eve that gave Adam the apple, mom always thought. I asked boys to rape me. I asked girls to call me a slut. It could have been provoked. I neededmore time to reclaim my childhood. I did not ask to be picked out. It was a curse thatstool with me. It is a mistake that could have been adverted, so critical in my life. Adifficult decision that cursed me with the scarlet letter. What had been done was neglect.People want to now know if i am gay. Why I am not married and have kids. I never knewa boy who did not want a serious relationship. I had been afraid of boys. I had been tenyears old when the boy wanted to play doctor. Like house; there is no difference. It was amatter of time before he seduced me and was caught at it. I was in junior high, when the
 
 boys started asking me out. The boys in the hood only wanted sex. Boys only were aboutone thing and that was sex. It was a conversion. He forced open the door and backed meon the couch, kissing me all over. I thought at first it felt good under stress, only to ask him to back off. It was not right. My first kiss was my darkest. He spit down my back. Itwas infatuation. Mom would tell me that i was about nothing and unless i led on to those boys i would never amount to anything. The church supports marriage and having afamily. I was always afraid of boys and relationships. My family encouraged me, onlywith me, i felt insecure to their threats. I would avoid briefings with boys behind closeddoors with no solutions. It was beyond what appeared to lead on attentions andappreciations to mislead intentions. It was a lack of communication. I wanted arelationship with a man, where we would talk and be friends. I needed to trust him beforei gave it to him. I wanted to know i was loved intentionally. That the relationship was notcontrolling. I felt mom never taught me how to love. All the abuse, led to my insecurity.It was something i never knew how to act because mom never taught me to love. Ithought he was after the money. He only wanted to use me. I felt all he was about wasneglect and abuse. I needed him to make me secure. I needed to grow up and fit this profile of maturation and stability that it was going to be alright. I was always afraid of  being alone. I never was able to move on from my family on my own. I do not knowwhat it feels like to take care of myself without my mom telling me how to live. Shenever taught me the basis of surviving on my own. That i need to be reminded by god andhis religion practices to learn how to separate our difference and forgive that thatconcedes my past to assume the danger and challenges and encounter opposition. And
 
until i learn to do this, i will be a liberal single. Is there anyone out there for me? Iwonder...it is a metaphorical disputeDiary JournalI have an anxiety problem. It started at a young age. My teacher will call on me and myheart beat would pound in fear of answering wrong. I was always afraid of people. I wasafraid of speaking out because of the fear of consequences. Elementary, I spent most mytime against the building wall. No one was willing to be my friend. It is crazy howchildren can abuse other children. I wanted to play with them, only, they ignored me andso I sat alone. When they did pay attention to me, it was to copy my papers. This was by junior high. They would get good grades if I let them copy mine. This is how I madefriends with them, by sharing my work. I would often cheat for them. I would changetheir answers so I made friends. By high school, it got rough. The students made fun of the poor clothes I wore. I was humiliated so I stole my mom clothes to wear to school. Iwas admired for it. I was from the ghetto and my teachers thought my grades should belike my neighbors. My grades dropped. I had low self esteem for being poor and stupid. Itis hard when my councilors suggested I made friends and everyone ignored me. I sat inthe library before school, lunch, after school and school assemblies to do work. Dad toldme I did not have to study for poor grades. I realized he was right. Students poured water in my chair. One student pulled my desk to the front of class. Students would hit me inmy back as I passed by to go to class. Students would like let me turn in my assignmentsto the teacher. They were planning on me failing school with low grades like that. The

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