Everything else in-between

After chain-smoking four cigarettes, I've noticed that I smoke them incredibly slowly. I can't really help it; I want to savor the flavor, as long as humanly possible. Though, crying during the act, is incredibly distasteful, literally. The cigs get wet with each tear-drop sliding down your cheek, as if it were coating the cigarette in your despair.

My boyfriend, B, and I broke up on the 5th of February, 2012, from our four month long relationship. A relationship that I uprooted my entire like for; a plane ticket that moved me from Virginia to Iowa, 800 miles away from my family circle. I was and still am devastated; he was my anchor to the real world, and to a fantasy life. One where I hadn't been raped. He stitched me together, healed some of most gaping wounds. Every time we slept together, it was, for me, a release of the demons I held inside, all the pain, anger, hurt, misery, and trauma. For once in my life, since the cruelest rape, I felt okay, almost normal.

His being a sex addict though, changed the dynamics of our relationship considerably. He didn't require sex night and day, but it consumed him, just like binge-eating consumed him. He would search tumblr, porn sites, and google for pictures to put in his spank bank. I often found images of naked women on a tumblr blog, still open on his phone. On twitter, he flirted with his followers, and after I snooped in late January, I found he was chatting about me with another girl, saying he 'didn't want to be in a relationship right now' and her reply, 'then you break up with her.' That was it for me, all the heartache I needed to send me over the edge into the blue of depression.

My eating diminished to 300 calories a day, which was a plus in my book; the only good that came from the end of our relationship. I went from 140 to 120 in a few weeks' time.

I wear a shield daily: makeup, gray-wool peacoat with a thick scarf, once-tight jeans that now bag about the hips–I feel relieved each time I need to heft them up.

And bones. I’m not skinny, not really, but I feel the barrier between my flesh and my skeleton shirnking each day. I trace my prominent collar bones, the handles of my hipbones (a term my B coined), and bones of my knees and arms, a visible accomplishment. My eating disorder is protection; this is what keeps me secure from my emotions, my break-up, the love I still hold for him.

Starving is the only thing that dulls the pain.

second time's the charm

This all that I remember from September 7th; the day of my second, and most vicious rape.

My bottom lip was cut. I bit down on it when they grabbed me from behind and one man covered my mouth with his calloused hand. He said these words: "We'll kill you if you scream." I remained motionless. "You understand? If you scream you're dead." I nodded my head silently. My arms were pinioned to my sides by one of the men's left arm wrapped tightly around me and my mouth was covered with his right.
He released his hand from my mouth.
I screamed. Rapidly. Abruptly.
He covered my mouth again. They kneed me in the back of my legs so that I would fall face down. "You don't get it, puta. I'll fuckin' kill you. I got a knife. I'll kill you." He released his grip on my mouth again and I fell, yelling, on the pavement. One man, I would later find out was called Juan, straddled me and kicked me in the side. I made noises, but they were nothing, they were soft footfalls. They urged the man on, they made him dominate. I scrambled on the pavement. I was wearing soft-soled sneakers, and every kick merely grazed him.
Somehow, I do not remember how, I made it back onto my feet. I remember biting him brutally, my teeth sharp razors, and tasting his blood, punching him, anything. But, it was useless. Three Mexicans, and one tiny girl? We all know the outcome of this match. One reached out and grabbed the tufts of my blonde hair. He yanked it hard and brought me down onto my knees in front of him. That was my first missed escape.
"Puta, you asked for it now," one man said, and heard myself begin to beg.
The man reached around to his back pocket to draw out a knife. I struggled still, my hair pulling out painfully from my skull as I tried to rip myself free from his grip.
Suddenly the darker man, Juan, shoved the back of my head, and I was on the ground on my stomach. He
sat on my back. He pounded my skull into the pavement. Once, Twice. I would have a concussion I knew. He cursed me in Spanish (Que te jodan!, Puta, Skonka.). He turned me around and sat on my chest. I was crying. I was begging. This is where he wrapped his hands around my neck and began to squeeze. For a second, I lost consciousness. When I came to, I knew I was staring up into the eyes of the man who could and would kill me.
At that moment I signed myself over to him. I was convinced that I would not live. I couldn't fight any longer. They were going to do what they wanted to me. That was it.
Everything slowed down. He stood up and began dragging me over the grass by my left forearm.
I twisted and half crawled, vainly attempting to keep up with him. Dimly, I could see the other men smiling and walking after us. A rush of fear ran through me. Would I be gang raped?
As I scrambled in the grass, the men circled me.
"Stand up," Juan said.
I did.
I was shivering uncontrollably. It wasn't cold out, but combined with the fear, with the exhaustion, made me shiver from head to toe.
"Take off your clothes."
"I have one-hundred dollars back home," I said.
"I don't want your money," he said, and they all laughed.
I looked at him. Into his eyes now, as if he was human, as if I could speak to him, plead my case.
"Please don't rape me," I said.
"Take off your clothes."
My hands were shaking and I couldn't control them. He pulled me forward by my belt loops until my body was pressed against his. He drew my head forward and our lips met. My lips were pursed tightly together. He tugged harder on my shorts, my body pressing up further against his. He grabbed my hair in his fist and balled it up. He drew my head back and stared at me, the others chortling.
"Please don't," I said. "Please."
"Shut up."
He kissed me again and this time, he managed to get his tongue into my mouth. By pleading, I had left myself open to this. He unzipped the khaki shorts I wore.
"Now take off your shirt."
I had a t-shirt on. I took that off. I wasn't wearing a bra. The men seemed entertained by this fact.
He reached out and grabbed my breasts in his hands. He plied them and squeezed them, twisting.
"Lie down."
I did. Shaking, I crawled over and lay face up against the warm, tickling grass. He pulled my underwear off me roughly and bundled them into his hand. He threw them away from me and I didn't dare look to see where they had gone. I watched him as he unzipped his pants and let them fall around his ankles.
I heard the laughter again. Yells and taunts in their native tongue.
As he worked himself against me, with more and more friction, I kept silent and still. He was hard enough and plunged himself inside me. The other two men had somehow managed to grip my arms, my breasts, keeping me pinned to the ground. He made noises and rammed it in. Rammed it and rammed it and the other men squeezed my breasts, and kissed me, and one chose to indulge himself by rubbing his groin against the side of my head.
And then it was over. He came and slumped into me. I lay under him. My heart beating wildly. My brain thinking of poetry, of language, of sleep, of B. Nothing erased this memory from my mind. They watched me stand on wobbly legs, dress, and wipe the blood from my eyes. They let me leave. They didn't kill me.

You don't know how much I wished they had. Two days later I attempted suicide, the bullet just barely missing my temple. I was sent to the psychiatric ward. And really, once suicide enters your mind, you and the reality surrounding you, is never the same.

locked ward

You ask, How did you get in there? What you really want to know is are you as likely to end up in there as I was. All I can tell you is, a boy with chest pain yelled in the ER and he was carted off for 5 days to the psychiatric ward. So, yes, it's easy.

And it is easy to slide into a parallel universe: worlds of the insane, the crippled, the dying, the criminal. The world existed alongside this reality, but not inside it.

My roommate Mariela came in in abruptly and screaming, during a psychotic episode. She was in bed muttering in her native and only known language, Spanish, about a burning house, and her children. The entire world was obliterated. She was crazy for those few hours. The nurses and doctors were in a gaggle around her at 5am in the morning, and as I warily turned to look, I watched Mariela shriek and cry in Spanish, a language foreign to me. She looked around the room for a moment, and thrashed around on the gurney, before a nurse shot her up with a tranquilizer.
The darkness in my head wasn't prepared for a schizophrenic roommate.

I was admitted to the hospital after attempting suicide. I put a loaded gin to my head for 3 minutes before lowering the pistol, and trudging the half-mile back home. I never expected my "Goodbye" notice on twitter, to make such a racket, and 15 minutes after I arrived home, and secured the gun back underneath my fathers pillow, the police were banging on my front door. The first thought, was burglars? But why would they knock? So I scurried downstairs and cautiously opened the door, and they were. Police uniforms adorned with every weapon and piece of clothing you might imagine. They spoke to me about my suicide attempt, and followed me into the house so I could grab some stuff before they drove me to the hospital. My parents never woke up.

The more handsome policeman took me by the elbow and steered me into the shelter of the back of the police car, while the other got in his car, and began backing out of the driveway. Then he slammed the door shut, and I called Ar, just to let her know I wasn't dead. But god did I despise her in that moment. I let my head fall back, and I hit dead air, so I stiffly pulled my neck up and blew out air from between my teeth. This would be a long sabbatical.

I was high off Adderall when I was admitted to the ER at 3am, and chattered to nurses and patients alike. My parents visited. And I had a psychiatric evaluation, where by Region 10, I was deemed a "safety risk to myself and others." So, I was discharged to the psychiatric ward for at least 72 hours. Involuntarily.

His name was Stan, and he was my only companion in the ward, my only compatriot. We had camaraderie, and charmed one another, which made me smile so widely he questioned what the "things" on my teeth were. My invislign. He was a fellow cutter, and had in desperation to end his life, took a box cutter to his left wrist. Tore the tendons, and they lingered down to his forearm. The scars he had were red and thick ridges and I couldn't help but be intrigued by their story. We exchanged numbers before I was discharged and I left a happy camper.

But, when you put a gun to your temple, you feel the the cold a greasy barrel pressed against your head, your finger ready to pull back the safety, you discover a whole world lies between this moment and the moment you've been planning to die - to pull the trigger. That world defeats you. You put the gun back underneath the pillow, you'll find a better way. I feel like I'm waiting for another inspiration to die, another invitation to Death's doors.

I'll never miss being locked up in a psych ward, where you were monitored all day, your Blood Pressure was checked, the "vampires" (doctors) took your blood every morning at 5-6am. They force fed me, because they knew from my stupidity that I was anorexic. It was hell. The doors were barred and you could hear them slam shut in every section of the unit. I'll never say goodbye again. This was enough.

Everyone in the ward was different, they all had the desperate courage to try to end their lives, they all did what they could.

beat me steadily

I sort of boycotted the physical act of writing for months. I think I was scared of what might spill out. I've been away for quite awhile, but I am finally ready to settle down and write:

In the room I was raped, a bedroom that belonged to me: where it was a supposed safety net, a bosom buddy, where secrets were passed. Instead, here's Ed, in front of me, who has shared so many of my memories, and violated my body in so many ways.

This is what I remember. My lips were wet with blood and spit. He had kissed me brutally, after he had grabbed me from behind and left a bruise on my arm. He said these words: "Jane, my best girl, if you don't scream I won't hurt you." I nodded my head silently. My arms were pinioned and pressed against his belly, and his hot breath was spilling into my ear.

He released my arms. I screamed D's name. Quickly. Abruptly. The struggle began. I had good aim, and whacked him on the cheek, but that didn't deter him. He kneed me in the stomach, so I would fall back onto my bed. "You don't get it, Jane. You are my best girl. Remember?" He gripped my short hair tightly and straddled me. I scrambled for purchase of something, anything. I wanted nothing but out. I made sounds, little noises, they were nothing but soft droplets. They urged him on, they made him righteous and hard. He flipped me around on the bed, and kissed me again, his eyes open and taunting. For a moment, I lost consciousness. When I came to, I knew I was staring into the eyes of my former molester, and now into the eyes of my rapist.

In that single moment, I feel like I signed myself over to him, I was convinced I couldn't fight anymore. He was going to rape me while D was downstairs frying her hair with color. That was it.

I remember him undressing me rapidly, eagerly. I wasn't a virgin, I knew the procedure. He continued kissing my lips like they were newborns, and caressing my body like it was a foal. He pulled me forward by belt, before unbuckling it, so I could feel his hardness. I swallowed my vomit.
"Please," I said. "Please don't Ed."
"You already asked for it."
 I watched him unzipped his own pants and let them fall to his ankles. He laid down on top of me, and started humping me, before inserting his penis. I was dry, and I felt the nausea swimming in my stomach. In my brain, I never stopped apologizing. It was serene up there, and there were poems, and wild animals waiting. I tried, as numbness overtook me, to recite one of the poems. I moved my lips, but no sound came out.

He made noises, and rammed his hips in and out, in and out, grunting with each thrust. And then it was over. He came and slumped over me. I laid under him, my heart fluttering wildly. My brain feeding me poetry, new books I wanted to read, Gary, anything. I began to shake again, and he moved off of me like a snake. He looked at me, and bent down to hand me my clothes. He moved aside and stood up, zipping and buttoning his pants. Easily. Like nothing irregular had occurred.

He held my underwear out to me, and I slid them on cautiously. Then he handed me my pants and shirt. I stood up and put them on, almost falling back from lack of balance. I needed to lean on my bed to pull my pants up. I was worried about my face, the bruise would be noticeable by any passerby. I couldn't control that, anymore than I could control the situation.
"D's hair is probably finished now..." I whispered, shoving my shirt over my head, so I didn't have to look at his expression.
He watched me. He laughed. "She probably does need you, my best girl."
"Can I leave now?" I asked.
"Come here, and kiss me goodbye," he intoned. I kissed him. I had no freewill anymore. It left me, and I believed in that.

After, I remember pushing aside what happened, and giggling with D as I rinsed the hair dye from her hair, and watched the fake color whine down the sink. I waved goodbye to the both them, smiling. I shut the door and ran upstairs, fiddled around my bathroom counter, and found my razor. I cut, and cut.

I was aware of nothing but a release. This was the one thing I required. That was all.

Birth Chart

Name: Cara Jane Janssen
August 6 1992
7:00 AM Time Zone is EDT
Charlottesville, VA

Rising Sign is in 21 Degrees Leo
You love to be the center of attention and you want to appear strong, confident and dominant. You are very proud of yourself, sometimes quite vain even. When all around you are bedraggled and falling apart, you look like a million bucks! Very dignified and honorable, you enjoy the power and privilege, but not the responsibilities, that come with leadership. You are very idealistic but can also be quite stubborn. Others impress you only if they have integrity (but wealth, power and influence can also turn your head). You prefer rich, elegant surroundings and possessions, and will try to acquire them as your budget allows. Physically, you are very impressive - - at your best you have a regal, charismatic demeanor and bearing. Try not to be such a showoff!

Sun is in 14 Degrees Leo.
More than a bit of a showoff, you love to be the center of attention! But others do not usually mind because they tend to enjoy your genuine warmth and affection. Very spirited and willful, proud and self-important at times, you demand your own way. You are quite honest, however, and the respect of others is very important to you. You never compromise yourself and you pursue your goals with persistence and dedication. Your regal presence and demeanor draws you to positions of leadership and authority. But beware of being overly hardheaded, domineering, ostentatious or patronizing or you will lose the goodwill and admiration that you enjoy. Very theatrical, you live life on a grand scale wherever and whenever possible. Your strength and energy vitalizes those who come in contact with you.

Moon is in 26 Degrees Scorpio.
Your feelings are very intense, never superficial. You tend to be either very angry or very sad or completely and totally happy. Your moods are deep, extreme and not always completely understood by yourself or by those with whom you have to deal. Emotionally, you tend to prefer to live at the cutting edge of life, pushing your reactions to the ultimate extremes, even if the results are dangerous or upsetting. You are easily jealous and very suspicious -- you require a great deal of emotional reassurance. A good detective, you are very curious about deep and mysterious things, especially human nature and motivations. Be careful not to be ruthless, tactless or too overly frank or you will meet with much resistance from others.

Mercury is in 08 Degrees Leo.
You are usually quite convinced that your own ideas are correct and you enjoy persuading others that they are. At times, you are very stubborn and proud of your beliefs and principles, and you get very defensive when they are challenged. You appreciate truth and honesty -- you practice it yourself and expect it in others. You have good talent for organizing, directing and planning. You delight in being asked for your advice and counsel.

Venus is in 29 Degrees Leo.
You have a striking, regal appearance and demeanor that attracts others to you. Your friendship is highly sought and you tend to take friendships quite seriously -- you remain loyal and true to those to whom you are attached. For you, love is mixed with pride and respect. Relationships are over when you lose respect for your partner. Be careful of a tendency to relate only to those who make you look good -- the powerful, important and influential. This can lead to arrogance and selfishness, and neither of these qualities becomes you.

Mars is in 07 Degrees Gemini.
Your energies get turned on quickly whenever anything interests you. But you have a very short attention span and it is difficult for you to complete tasks because something else more interesting always seems to be beckoning. You love to debate and argue, usually in a spirit of friendly disagreement. But watch out that you do not get too overly aggressive or antagonistic or others will be quick to take offense where none may have really been intended. You need to be in constant physical motion -- sports or daily exercise is a must for you if you are to feel fit and healthy.

Jupiter is in 16 Degrees Virgo.
You feel most expansive and at ease with yourself when you are doing something that you consider to be practical or useful. You enjoy being dutiful and carrying out responsibilities. You gladly take on the little tasks that others seem to want to avoid. At times, you carry things to extremes and feel guilty anytime you do something that you consider to be self-indulgent. While it is appropriate for you to demand little for yourself in life, try to loosen up once in a while -- go out on a fling and enjoy yourself!

Saturn is in 15 Degrees Aquarius.
Your personal sense of values is a reflection of the value structures of your peer group and of those you respect and admire. Try to be more critical in your acceptance of these values -- you tend to prejudge the abilities of those you trust and then follow what they say blindly. Basically very conservative, you prefer orderly, systematic changes and fear doing things rashly or impulsively. Ideas and philosophies must have some sort of immediately realizable, utilitarian function in order for you to pay any attention to them.

Uranus is in 14 Degrees Capricorn.
You, and your peer group as well, seek out practical solutions to a changing society's attitudes to customs, traditions and authority structures. Your logical and orderly manner of dealing with these matters will result in permanent and carefully planned, but sweeping, reforms.

Neptune is in 16 Degrees Capricorn.
You, and your entire generation, will idealize work, practicality and the ability to attain reasonable goals. But, because you will also stress the need to be selfless and giving, you may find it difficult to attain your goals unless you have lowered your expectations on all fronts.

Pluto is in 20 Degrees Scorpio.
For your entire generation, this is a period of intense research and discovery in areas that were heretofore considered mysterious, remote or taboo. The root causes for many complex occurrences will be unearthed due to the intensity and thoroughness of the search.

N. Node is in 29 Degrees Sagittarius.
You will probably have many different contacts and acquaintances throughout your life. You're quite gregarious by nature and your natural curiosity about others lets you take the lead in forming new relationships. You'll form close ties with those who have similarly idealistic ideas -- especially those who can stimulate you intellectually in your chosen field of interest. Your enthusiasm for learning new things may also cause you to do quite a bit of traveling. Because you probably will have many wide-ranging interests and concerns, you most likely will have contacts and connections in various parts of the country (or world).

formspring.me

Ask me anything: sexual, my life, my ED, anything you're curious about. http://formspring.me/lenabone

something wicked

This week has been full of depression and hurt. I've been living with my aunt since Tuesday, and at the start it was comfortable, yet full of tension. I had called the night before after screaming at L, telling her I cut myself, and I couldn't stop the urge. Wednesday,  full of genuine laughter, and spirit, D was happy for once; her niece was willingly spending time with her. I was wearing a denim mini-skirt, one that showed off my legs, since Gary was coming over, I was drinking a Corona beer, and carelessly flinging my legs about, no matter if the skirt rode up a few inches every time I did so. I wanted him to see, I think.

We were sitting in the kitchen, and I was on my second beer, pleasantly mellow and numb, when he glanced over at my exposed scars, and touched them. I glanced down too, he could see the scratch marks, the star pattern, and three vertical cuts, they were definitely deliberate. He looked up, and I did too, tomato red, and cringing. I was waiting for a look of disgust or revulsion, but it never came, and he seemed to know what I was expecting; "I'm not going to criticize you." He reassured me, and touched them without restraint, and just told me he understood, all while D stood off to the side, staring in wonder. Looking straight in my eyes, he told me he loved me, and I was moved beyond belief. But, now he holds a responsibility to me, he is tied inextricably, juts by virtue of loving me - even if I know it's platonic.

But, based on what happened last night, when I was desperately calling HIM for help and support, he calls D in concern instead. I confided to his answering machine, that I cut again, and instead of calling me back, he didn't acknowledge the pain that was tugging me under, but rather made me feel displaced and out of touch. I can now tell, he is also so hungry-beyond the food way-all the time, and sometimes I think I am not his friend but his lit cigarette. Just another experience or person to fill him up and get him by. I don't want to be held in by lips like his. When I talk, he listens, but I am constantly terrified that he will change his mind and spit me out when he decides he doesn't want such a burden on his shoulders.

I am afraid of my love for him. That is why I cut yesterday. A heart, with a ribbon. There was this extraordinary pain knocking at the door of my head, an overwhelming, extreme sensation, and I knew that if I let it in, I would fall under. So I cut, to become immune to the emotional pain, and I felt like it - the razor had saved me - in one of the most profound ways. I was no longer a burden, but a moment of blood and physical pain.

I can feel it happening. The progression has been slow and steady, but I am starting to feel the pull again, the mania. I am lonely, and the need for isolation, has been roiling in my stomach. There is a ringing in my ears, and I can hear the blood pumping viciously through my brain. I feel as though I am stuck between; I have no idea what I am between, but the feeling is very specific and I know it like the back of my hand. I can sense that my smile isn't genuine, when I look at Gary, and there is a definite rage boiling under the surface of my skin, and my moods. Everything trivial causes me severe anguish, and I've taken up purging my breakfast and only eating a yogurt and having a beer the rest of the day. I'm turning into a lush, but what kind of damn do I give?

I am surrounded by everything and cared for by nothing.