Purely mixed up soul

Ever since I got raped I’ve had this fear that people are out to get me. I know a part of that also comes from growing up with a borderline personality dad who treats life like a chess game (pre-planning things and leaving LOTS under the surface for me to try and figure out.) What scares me the most is that I’m going to end up with an STD, it’s a major fucking phobia that plagues me all the time. For a long time I’ve lived convinced that I’ve had one (I know what you’re thinking, wait for me to explain this later) and as much as I realized I’ve been conditioned to have this fear, it always feels real. Let me explain.

When I got raped, I got a lot of shit in my vagina. Literal shit. See rapists don’t care about which holes you’re supposed to use… or in which order. That started endless battles of utis and yeast infections (from constantly being on antibiotics.) It’s been two and a half years since then, and I haven’t gotten rid of the initial uti. It’s been brutal, and obviously this contributes a dickload to my fear.

You wanna know what else has been? Last week my boyfriend’s buddy told me he went out, did meth and bought hookers with my man. Before that he kept saying “I don’t get why people buy whores, you basically just pay someone to give you an std.” And a right after he told me the lovely story, he said one world to me, three letters… “H.I.V”…. My heart sank. Utterly fucking dropped into my stomach and I wanted to hurl my fucking heart into my hand and jump start it back up again. On the outside, I kept composure… tough as nails? Not really.. like I said, I’ve spent a lot of time worrying about this. I had already accepted this as my fate a thousand times over again. This is how I kept my face neutral, and didn’t show that bastard any sort of power. After asking my man about it, he got pretty upset.. I didn’t like the reaction at all, honestly, afterwards I was convinced I had it.

It’s been a week since then, and I haven’t gotten tested. I’m afraid to find out, I’m afraid of having to check off that I’ve been diagnosed when I go for massages or to the dentist, I’m afraid of it being on paper. However, I got my boyfriend to print out test results, and I confronted his friend about it  who just said he was being crazy. (he is crazy, and he was high on drugs) but it’s still fucking scary & I don’t know what to think.

One of my boyfriend’s friend’s told me he has HIV… that means I have HIV. I confronted the bf about it… and his reaction was exactly was I was afraid of. I don’t want to get into it, but before bed he denied having it, and then in the morning I woke him up, and as he awoke he mumbled the words “I did.”

I asked him to repeat himself. 

“Did you just say you did?”

“Yeah.”

-pause- as it hit me with full force as reality turned to distant , smashing waves. The kind of thing that leaves you dizzy and leaves your mind swaying with imaginary punches, but your lungs gasping for air.

“You did?!”

“Yeah.”

And then he denied it all over again.

His friends were acting weird, showing me pictures on their phones (two people did, of the same picture. Neither of those guys ever show me stuff on their phone just for fun. This picture read: Erectile dysfunction? Ask your boyfriend about teenage sluts.

Shit fuck, they did all this other fucked up shit too, but I don’t want to think about this!! I need to do yoga.

Hey life, I always knew you were crazy, but how is one person supposed to handle so much?

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“This is it, isn’t it?”

“This is what?”

“The end.”

“Everything must come to an end.”

I just realized I left my iPod at my buddies’ place, my buddies who happen to host parties just about every day… I trust that old dinosaur will be safe tho, nobody wants a first generation iPod video that’s on it’s last legs, do they? Oh well… I’m over there ALL THE TIME and the only thing that occasionally goes missing are weed, alcohol or smokes.

I love that group of party animals, we always get into such shenanigans. I’ll tell you about a few of my favorite people and their unique characteristics.

We have the SADISTIC DJ. Who’s the first to rag on you about something or laugh at you for puking on yourself… but he’s also generous enough to give you hoots and beers to make sure you have a good time… like most of my friends actually, which is rare for a group of alcoholics.

Then we have the COMEDIAN with the high pitched laugh that sounds like something between a tickle-me-elmo doll and a giggling baby, with the emotional intelligence of a psychiatrist who studies long after his/her PhD.

Lastly we have the MAN OF THE HOUSE, the one who always cooks and sure knows how to do it, the hook up for all the drugs, the one whos constantly running around and driving me home one one of his many daily adventures. The one who kept me baked at shambhala, and, once again, like everyone else, also a fucking comedian. 

And his new passive aggressive, gold-digging wife. Her kid’s be there too, a boy and girl around my age. Good kids, plus the son blazes with me AND is easy on the eyes.

Life’s about to turn into a game of chess. I have a lot of knowledge that I think will give me the power to manipulate my dad and my stepmom enough so that I can live there without wanting to blow my brains out. Before I was too honest, I just wanted to fix the way my dad thought, how he acted… but its been years of that and I think I just need to submit myself to his twisted and fucked up reality, even though there are some costs. And it’s gonna be hard because I like control and freedom so much it’s sickening.

Lets go over the plan again.

-Cook for dad, and clean. Can’t yell if he’s eating.

-Move things around in J’s kicthen… because if you wanna be that way… two can play.

-Webcam set up in room for security against stepmomster, dad, and to catch any winning arguments that i can one day bring to a professional

-small sound recording device. (That’s all I need if I want the power over where dad and J’s relationship goes) which would be nice, but something gives me a feeling my dad’s using J as much as she’s using him.

Idk, this is gonna suck. My dad is really illogical and holds me to impossible standards, plus he always takes out his anger on the least threatening person and that’s gonna be me in this new situation. Oh well.