Black

The war against myself started ten years ago. I'm young, beautiful, intelligent, independant and initiative. I have two kids that I love with all my soul and two jobs I love. I'm deeply in love with a man who makes me feel like a little queen everytime he sees me. What else could I ask for. Why did the doctor prescribed that kind of medication. My life is upside down and I can't deal with it alone. It is non sense for a woman like me to be so depressed. It is innacceptable. Everything seems so dark. I'm tired all day, but I can't sleep at night. I'm impatient with my kids. I don't go to work and when I go I'm not really there. My self esteem is going down, my confidence is non existent, and so is my patience. I get mad at everybody for no apparent reason. I'm sensitive to the extreme. All I have is my writings. I got pregnant at a very young age. I was sixteen. Ten days before my birthday. I did everything I possibly could to loose my son. From sleeping on my tummy to drugs, I did it all. I tried so many times to kill the life I was slowly building inside. I felt like a murderer for nine months. I finally gave birth and was now, at seventeen years old, a young mother of the cutest little boy on earth. What was suppose to be the joy of my life quickly become the worst nightmare. I was living with my parents at the time and they were helping my with my baby. I gave my son's bath for the first time when he was six months old. Not because I wasn't responsible enough to do it, because my parents thought I wasn't capable of raising a baby. My son growing up, I finished school and graduated from high school, working nights. I had no self esteem, no confidence since It was taking away while living at home. Beeing told everyday that I would loose my son if I wouldn't raise him like my parents wanted me to raise him, being told that I was irresponsible, a slut, a misfit mother, having the cops after me everytime I would go out, made my life become hell. I tried to kill myself so many times. I was desperate. I decided to quit my job at the restaurant to go to University. My parents offered me to babysitt my son wich was 2 years old at the time. Thinking my situation would change if I would get a degree, thinking my parents would be proud of me, I accepted. Mistake.
Coming home every weekend to see my son, was a real blessing and I started seeing what my life would be without him. The third weekend, coming home as usual, my son was calling my parents mommy and daddy without them telling him they were not. I was shocked, I was trying to make it up so hard to him, so he'll see by himself I was not his big sister but his mother. I spent a year taking care of a son who tought I was a sister. I decided to quit University to be a mother. I didn't get my degree, I had no education whatsoever. But it felt right to come back home to my son. I found a job as a dispatcher. I liked it, but troubles at home were getting harder everyday. I decided to get an apartment. But of course, my parents dissuaded me saying I wasn't making enough money to raise my son alone, that they would call social services to file a complaint for misfit mother and that they would ask for legal rights on my son. I stayed home, doing laundry, lunches and diners, taking care of my son, cleaning up the house and working. One afternoon, while my mom was at work, my dad came to me and asked me to scratch his back. He took my hand and ask me to grab him and hold him tight. Thinking he had a bad news or something like that, I figured he just needed to talk or to...I don't know exactly, but I held him for a few seconds. When I backed up, he kept my hand and arms and kissed me. Like a man would kiss his wife. He went down a little and kissed my breasts. When I saw my son watching, I asked him to stop. He looked me in the eyes and it was like he just woke up. Like he realized what has just happened. He went upstairs. We didn't talk for a few days. He asked me to forgive him and that it would never happen again. Of course, it didn't stopped there. As time went by, he became more insistant in his actions. After seven months trying to avoid being alone with him something made him stop. I went out one night and was rapped by two men. My dad never touched me again. That night he realized that his actions could have lead him to beat me if I didn't do what he said. I was still his daughter after all and he didn't want to hurt me that bad. I remember calling his name while being raped since he never beatten me up to get "it". Those guys were hard on me, holding a knife against my throat, getting their pleasure from the blood coming out of the cuts they made everytime I would scream. I lost conscience after one of them punched me in the face for screaming too loud. A year later I met my ex-husband. We moved to Ontario after a few months. Of course my parents weren't too happy about it and called the cops on me, filed many complaints for misfit mother, trying to keep me from moving so far. Once in Ontario, We had a great time for a while. We got married and had a kid. We moved back in my home town after two years. Since he didn't like it, he started being mean, insulting me, throwing stuff around the house, stopping me from working and seeing my friends. I isolated myself from the world. I decided to ask him to leave. We've been seperated since last november. Going through a rough time, financially, emotionnally, and psychologically, I decided it was time for me to make sure the kids would have something for their futur. I took good insurances and planned my suicide well, so the insurance company would think it's an accident. Four days before the fatal date, I met him. The man I love. The man that saved my life and my kids life. He helped me rebuild my confidence, my self-esteem, he thought me how important it was to have goals and dreams, he thought me how to respect myself, how to go after what I really want. He thought me the importance of living right, how to choose my friends, how it was important to take my decisions considering my kids, but most of all, he thought me love. Of course he doesn't realize that he saved my life, he doesn't know I love him, he doesn't know how important he really is to me. He doesn't know that every decision I make are depending on what he thinks. It is non-sense to love someone and not telling anyone about it. I'm crying my heart out almost everynight for him. I even sleep with his picture beside me. This man is all I ever needed, all I ever wanted. I feel so safe in his arms, I feel like nothing else exists when I'm with him. He protects me. I feel loved. I feel so free. It's impossible for us to be together and it hurts. I'm not really his type. He needs stability which I don't have, he doesn't mind kids but I can tell it is a bit scarry for him. He needs someone that can give him as much as he can give. I have nothing to offer him but my heart. And it is not enough. My nights are cold without him. My life doesn't mean a thing without him. I love him. I really do. I am so tired of waking up in the middle of the night, scared and crying with no one to hold me and say that everything is going to be ok. I need him. We are not at the same stage of our lives. I understand that. But living without him seems impossible. If only he could see half of it, half of the pain, half the joy he's bringing me. I cry so much these days. For no apparent reasons. I thought I was just tired. Now, I even cry in front of the kids, at work, it seems to me that I can't help it. I can't hold it in. I can't live like this anymore. I still have my insurance. I still have the same plan. Please someone hear me out! Please someone save me and my kids from this hell. I can't deal with this no more. I'm not strong enough. My parents are finally winning the war. They will have legal custody of my kids after the fatal day. I'm going crazy. i can't even write no more...my soul is dying.