Why is it always me?
This is my first post here, so please be gentle.
I grew up being hurt my father from the age of little on up until after my freshman year of college. I was also sold to his friends, limp blls disappearing into the deep pockets of my father's pants.
It was painful, sometimes terrifying, often shameful, but ti's been over for a long time and all I am left with is the ghosts.
Last night I went running in town after dark like I've done a hundred times in the past.
This time it was diferent. This time there was a man and a knife and strong hands and arms and the weapon that all men are given. i don't know what happened (yay dissication) but I know I came back with my pants around my knees and soaking wet on the melting snow and I know he'd been inside of me.
I just;;.... after everything.... why me? why me again? again a gain agaiin? is this myy punishment for trying to gethelp? is this my punishment for sharing with my therapist, with group?
nomatter where i go, i bring taint. everywhere i go there is an invisible target on my back that only predators can see.