"The House That Sad Built"

Well welcome to post number 200. It's going to be a doozy. I'll tell you right now that you might want to back out. You don't have to read this. This isn't in the same vein as my other posts so just know that. It's going to no doubt be long unless I decide to greatly edit myself. I don't know yet. I am really going to just let this one flow unfettered so know that. Also know that I'm alright. I'm going to be fine. This not about you or any of you reading it. I don't expect anything from you. I'm writing this because of a human angel who talked to me last night. She too had been through something like what I experienced, but, in my opinion far worse than I, and she encouraged me to blog about it. So that's what I'm doing.

Background: My ex-husband moved down from Long Island when I was 12 yrs old into the condo we lived in. Knew him for years and when I turned 18 we started dating. He was the love of my life and even though our relationship was tumultuous to say the least, we always got back together. Our first major break up I was 19/20 and I got in with a group of Greeks and Italians. They were the best, most of them. Had a blast and wouldn't take back that time for anything. It was a ton of fun. I had finished early with most of my college and took some time off to party HARDY. One of the suppliers of "party supplies" and I were also friends. He was more a peripheral friend, but during the Breakup of 1995, he and I had fun now and again if catch my drift. Time passes and now I'm back with Tony (ex-husband) and I determine right then and there that we are never breaking up again. Even if we do I know that we will get back together because we are meant to be.

Okay.

Ex-husband is a decade older than I and Egyptian so he would often lay down the law of what was to be, and I would always comply. The law was that I was to NEVER go near any of the Greeks/Italians ever again. EVER. Well, that stung a bit, but he was all I wanted to be with anyway so you know, whatever. Glad to comply.

One night he and I really have a big fight and he takes off. I'm so mad I could have strangled him. Soooo, when "The Italian" called I was not hard to convince to go out to my favorite club and check out his billionth new car. We lived right in downtown Orlando so the club was a matter of blocks. Figured I'd go out a few hours, HOPEFULLY he'd notice and be jealous blahblahblah. Mind you I'm still a kid so that makes total sense to me.

So out we go to Club Renaissance (If anyone remembers that club, don't judge me) : ) Well we are there for a bit and he keeps the drinks flowing, but I ALWAYS could carry my liquor and yours so no biggie. So it was very bizarre that I started to get extremely sick and barely able to stay conscious. So I ask him to get me home right away because I just do not feel right.

He gets me to his car and I think I must have passed out because when I come to we are speeding down I4. For those not in Orlando, these means he's not taking me home. I was blocks from home, no reason to be on the interstate at all. To this day I don't know where he took me, I just know that it was North of Orlando.

I remember feeling violently ill and begging him to pull over. He rolls down the window for me so I can hang my head out the car like a dog and throw up. That's what I did. I then am crying and pleading with him to call Tony to come get me. I told him to just pull over and call his cell and he'll come get me. He just says he can't do that.

So where we end up, I to this day don't know. I mean I know his house and this wasn't it. Some apartment somewhere North of Orlando. I remember very well that it was new, because I could smell the carpet as I crawled along it to the bathroom to continue vomiting. I know I passed out again, because he came and carried me to the bed. I'm still crying and begging for him to call Tony to come for me. I don't know if he raped me just once and I kept coming to during a single incident or if it was several times throughout the night. It seems like it was several times throughout the night, but I really and truly do not know. I just know it was horrible and he was so mad me. I couldn't get him off me. I could stop crying for Tony. I just couldn't. I simply couldn't do anything. I was like a rag doll. Just limp. There are other details that I'm not going to get into, but suffice it to say it was bad and scary and traumatizing.

The next morning he takes me to the car and he can see in the morning light what I did and he grabbed my face HARD and turned it to the car and said, "Look what you fucking did to my brand new car." I don't really remember the drive. I was really in another world. I do remember him dropping me off at my place. I remember me skulking up to the building and trying to get in with out one of the 200 + residents who all knew me seeing me and the state I was in. I made it. I held up for days I think. That's all fuzzy to me now too.

I never told. I was petrified that Tony would kill him. If not him, perhaps my father or brother if they knew. So I never told. For years. I told a friend of 10 years this morning and she wrote that she "NEVER" knew that about me. Also wrote that it explains so much. It really does.

The reason all this came up now is not because I just now remember it. I think of it every day and it has shaped who I am in good ways and in bad ways.

Why do I hate crowds? Because were there not a crowd around, I'd have perhaps caught him spiking my drink.

Why do I hate clubs? Because that was the first site of the crime.

Why did I stay with Tony so long when I was evident we were not right for each other? Because who else would ever want me? I was damaged goods.

Why do I wall myself off from everyone? I'm scared you'll find out how unworthy and dirty I am

Why did I never like to go North of Orlando (to a certain point)? Because that's where it happened

Why do I hate vibrators and anything that sounds like one (electric toothbrushes etc)? Because he used one on me

Why have I been celibate for almost three years now? Because I thought he was my friend and if I can't trust my friend how could I trust any man friend or not?


Now don't get me wrong. These are not all thoughts that I'm out and out thinking all the time. Far from it. In fact, I thought I was totally cool with it until I did my Advanced Landmark Forum this weekend. I did mine like Benjamin Button. I was psyched and motivated Friday morning when it started and it just devolved from there. Tonight is to be the celebration ceremony and I'm not going. Not because of anything other than I think it is far more cathartic for me to stay home with my thoughts and write this.

i am not defined by this, yet I have been. I don't want to be anymore. I want to choose happiness and freedom and that I'm a beautiful woman with soooooo much love to give that it almost hurts because I start to give it and then I hold myself back. No more. I don't want there to be any walls between me and you whomever you are.

I want to start my life anew today and leave the past to the past. What happened to me was 14+ years ago, and it's shadowed me for too long. I am perfect, whole, and complete and if you are reading this and you sense that I'm putting up my walls or hiding or doing anything that stems from this, please tell me. I mean try to tell me nicely, but tell me.

I've been hold up in this sad little house of my making too long. I'd like to go outside now.