Just another Manic Monday (I know it is Sunday)

(TW: Sexual assault)

I know I have been gone for a bit and that I have to update you all. So pretty much I have done a lot of reflecting recently. I have been in a stable mood which is pretty good. I get irritated with my mom and my sibling but, it was what it is. But, I think about this past semester. All of the sex, the drug use, the emptiness. I hate that people probably see me as this older men loving, gold digging, promiscuous woman. I see my counterparts being carefree and wild but, as a Black woman I need to remember that I can’t do that. I can’t let my freak flag fly. This whole spring semester I was manic. I know what mania is since I have seen it firsthand with my mother and I hated her for it. I didn’t know I was manic because I thought it was just me being adventurous and carefree. But, it wasn’t. It was me being reckless. It was me putting myself at risk. I thought I was invincible and that these were my college years for me to look back on and have fond memories and new friends. None of that was accurate. Pretty much all of my interpersonal relationships deteriorated except for the few friends I have always had. Most of my sex was empty. I would sleep with men who allowed me because I thought I would be so fortunate to have a man even touch me. I felt completely empty that a good amount of times, I would dissociate. I knew they were inside of me. I knew they were on top of me. But, I could not feel it. I just felt so empty all of the time and that was the only thing that could give me any feeling at all yet, that didn’t fulfill me. So my logic was that the more I did it, I would eventually feel something. I let people treat me any way they wanted. I was disposable. I was someone they knew they could come back for their use because I would always be around. Despite how mean they were, I would always justify it. I became a shell of my former self. I know it was from my sexual assault.

My sexual assault was less than a week before Christmas. I was blindfolded and restrained at both my wrists and ankles. My client proceeded to use the toy on me that I told him I couldn’t do because it was larger than what I was comfortable with. He used the blindfold on me so I could “get out of my head.” I know he planned it because shortly beforehand, he told me I would need to lose my virginity soon because a man is going to need it eventually. So, after the toy was used on me, my first thought was “Well, there goes my virginity. I should have expected it.” I didn’t want to worry him because he still needed to pay me and asked him if he wanted to have sex. He was excited and all I can remember is his sweaty old body mounting me and I just focused on staring at the ceiling. I felt nothing. I never knew an out of body experience like the one I experienced then. Afterwards,  I carried on as if nothing happened. I had to keep him happy because he was my only client. He thanked me and kissed my cheek for allowing him to do that and he said that this a big deal and that I should be happier about it. My main concern was getting back to my dorm to shower before I saw Smokey. Smokey and I had planned out a wonderful day at the mall and he had asked me not to take this date beforehand and threatened to cancel on me if I did. So, I lied and told him I canceled the client. I wanted to have money for Christmas. I wanted to have money so I could buy stuff at the mall and buy Smokey lunch because he does everything else. That day, I planned on losing my virginity to Smokey, not necessarily that day but, at some point. But, I felt like I had to rush and have sex with Smokey because I wanted to associate my first time with him and not my client. That day was the best thing I ever had with a man; it beat all the hotels and dinners my client took me to. I never knew a man could be so kind and patient and gentle until I met Smokey. He is not perfect, not by any means. But, he is the nicest that a man has ever treated me.

What is the reason for me retelling my sexual assault? I believe that is when my mania started. After my assault, it took Smokey telling me that it was an assault and me processing it a few days later to understand that it was indeed an assault. After the assault, I knew I had Smokey, right? He was my friend, my lover, my gin buddy. It turns out that I was wrong. He left just like all the older men. I was all alone.

All I had was my client and Lispy who was mean to me. I felt so empty and hallow. But, I needed to find something to keep me fulfilled. Sometimes, I felt so sad that it hurt to even open my mouth to speak. So, I had to keep seeing my client and keep seeing a person who did not value me. I wanted to try everything to feel something. I kept getting tattoos because I loved the pain of the needle digging into my skin to create art on my body. I loved the stinging I felt, it was so therapeutic. I loved the stinging afterwards that reminded me of the pain. I tried a new hair color. I felt like I needed to be different. I needed to be more adventurous and be outside of the norm and do something for myself. The sex was the main concern. I had so much of it and I couldn’t get enough of it. Even in group sex, I felt alone. I felt empty. But, I wanted more of it. I always used condoms and protection but, despite all of that, the increased amount of sex still put me at risk. So, now I have HSV1 and now I may or may not have HPV. I am so grateful I went to the OBGYN to get a pap smear because I know I needed to be on top of everything. I look back and saw that the no use of condoms within the group is terrifying. I really reflect back on the times and look at current videos and see no condoms being used and I’m just like….

To each their own but, the amount of people who aren’t using protection and all of them are also sleeping with others and the fact that I engaged in that is nothing I would have normally done. I thought it was fine as long as condoms are used. No, just no…

I am so angry at myself for letting myself getting involved. I know I was manic but, I had no one telling me that maybe this isn’t a good idea or even make an attempt to see if I were okay. I guess the thought process was that I’m an adult and so, I can be as wild as I want. I can only blame myself and my mania and I can’t be mad at anyone.

But, damn guys. I am so frustrated. Why did I have to get the only two skin to skin STI’s? With my shitty ass autoimmune disorder and my doctor warned me about that. She told me I needed to be careful because I am more susceptible to getting something compared to others.

I just hate myself so much and I wish I could have gotten out of that. I wish I was strong enough to say no. Clearly I wasn’t. I was irresponsible and now there are people who can joke about what I have done and I can’t come out and tell them I’m manic because either they don’t understand and/or it’s none of their damn business.

No matter how much I try to reinvent myself as a more positive and pure image, I know people will only see me as promiscuous and sassy girl.

I hate myself so so much and I wish I could just go away and be someone new.

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