The Story of Hope Chapter 2

Chapter 2: In Which I Am Stupid (Again)
I should not have downloaded a Tinder. I should not have invited a virtual stranger over to my room on Tuesday night. I wasn’t drunk so I don’t have much of an excuse. Maybe I was still hurting over Trevor. . Maybe seeing Derrick and Amanda together made me feel lonely. I don’t know. But I should not have had sexual relations with him.
But I did.
He was Josh (last name unknown). He came over and we hooked up. It didn’t seem like just a hook up thought. We had been planning on a date today and we even shared poetry (he wrote a poem eerily similar to mine about mental illness because he also suffers from OCD). We talked for an hour before we started kissing- he was fun and easy to talk to.
Once the hookup started, things got out of control. We didn’t have sex but several times he tried to get inside of me. I figured it was heat of the moment. I wanted to snuggle after but I had 8 am geometry math class so I told him we’d chill tomorrow. He left without kissing me but there were no warning signs something was wrong.

Then, I picked up my phone and saw with a sinking feeling he had unmatched me on Tinder. My heart began beating faster. I went to Snapchat. He had blocked me. Less than ten minutes after he left my building.

My sheets still smelled like him. I changed them….and threw up. I felt dirty and used and even though what we did was consensual I cried myself to sleep feeling very violated.

When I woke up the next morning, I didn’t want to exist. I wished I was dead. The enormity of my feelings came crashing down on me and I couldn’t handle it.

I skipped Geometry ( I never skip class but I never did what I did last night either) and would have slept through Psychology if Brandon hadn’t knocked on my door.

“Ready for psych?” Brandon is always ready for Psych.

“Sure, let me just grab my stuff” I turned away from him.

“Wait….something’s wrong”

“No nothings wrong”

“Yes, something is wrong. What is it?”

“I had a guy over to my room last night”

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter” I wailed, “He blocked me and used me and I’ll never see him again”

At first Brandon just looked surprised, then angry as he comprehended what I had told him.

“That bastard. I’d like to kill him”

Brandon is one of the few purely platonic relationships I have and I trust him completely. I was so touched by his protectiveness and anger

I ended up writing a poem during Psych (I’ve written several poems recently-my way of coping with intense emotions). Doesn’t have a title yet but I’ll probably call it One Night Stand:

Exposed
Revealed
I’m torn apart
He saw my body
He saw my heart
Misplaced trust
A stolen night
Seems so much worse in the morning light

Blocked
Deleted
A mistake was made
I was used
Enticed
And then betrayed
Who can I blame?
I have only myself
A lonely toy on a broken shelf

My breathing is shallow
My body is sore
The mark of the slut
The sign of a whore
A beautiful soul
Consumed by the lust
And a constant reminder
I never should trust

February 12th 2016- Today after class I spent some time with Derrick who was infuriated when I told him about Josh saying things like “he wanted to murder the bastard” which oddly enough made me feel a bit better.
Derrick mentioned cuddling (he loves Amanda so much I knew it wouldn’t go further than that) but I didn’t think it was appropriate. But we did talk about some really personal stuff. For example Derrick showed me a scar on his wrist and said it was when his older and abusive biological brother had held his hand against a stove. He briefly mentioned other younger siblings but didn’t go into detail about anything which had happened to him leaving me to wonder what terrible household he had grown up in.

That night I found out.


As I was doing schoolwork I was messaging Derrick, who was feeling depressed. As he began to talk I saw why. Derrick was abused. Horrific disgusting abuse, abuse I had only read about in books. He didn’t go into detail but he did say he had been locked in the basement, naked for weeks and that was one of his tamest memories. He was abused by his parents and his brothers- the degree of abuse shocked me and made me wonder how he could have been so strong all these years.

“I’ve been so unhappy recently because they’re coming back….the memories are just coming back”

“Have you ever been to counseling?” I asked, fingers trembling as I typed.

“I did go once as a child. It ended when I made the therapist cry. But things have been so bad I’m considering back…….no one knows the whole story. It’s not something any one person can handle”

I talked to him until he fell asleep. I had never had any kind of training for this kind of thing, not even close, so I tried to say what was from my heart, letting him know I was here to listen without judging and whatever happened was not his fault. I didn’t say anything else.

How could I tell him what to do in this situation? I could barely comprehend it myself. I didn’t tell Derrick how much his story affected me. There were literally tears streaming down my face as I sat there messaging him. How could anyone especially parents, do that to a child? Their own child? I understand Derrick’s anger, his rage, things that had previously puzzled me. As I said I haven’t told anyone but it’s something that made it very hard for me to sleep.
I picture Derrick a small boy lying naked in a fetal position. Derrickis now handsome, smart and physically strong. But he still has the scars of abuse, wounds that have festered for over a decade and may honestly never heal. And no wonder he doesn’t believe in God. How do you believe in God after something like that? How could you believe in anything once you’ve seen such a dark side of humanity?

My parents were right. I could never be a social worker. I would never be able to separate myself from the cases I’d see every day. Poor Derrick. Derrick doesn’t want my sympathy though and I going to make sure I treat him no differently than I have before. I thought at first Derrick was a surface level flirt, a jock who was fun but no substance. Now he’s one of my best friends, someone I care deeply about and one of the strongest people I know.

Oh yeah and then there’s actual schoolwork. My grades have taken a backseat to my mental health recently (long term that’s better. Doesn’t matter what my grades are if I go batshit insane), but I’m not in danger of doing too badly. Now that my mental health seems a bit more stable (last night’s transgression aside ) I am going to put school back as my number one priority. Something I am happy (and still kind of surprised at) is Brandon and I have As in Psych.

The class is really hard so the teacher puts an extreme curve on the class (he says his curve is “legendary”) so Brandon and I (and several other people) ended up with As.
“Hope” He messaged me in all capitals “we did it. We are aliens (the term the professor used for extremely smart students) Thank God for all the stupid people”

Friday was another party at Megan’s and it was pretty banging. Almost all the boys were shirtless and girls went around kissing them leaving marks with different color lipstick. I kissed Jim and most crazy of all, a cop pulled someone over across the street so we all thought we were being raided.

All the people under 21 went into the back room, turned off the lights and hid. I grabbed my drink and went into the closet. It was an incredibly stressful time. I was in the closet holding hands with Jim otherwise I may have had a panic attack.
Looking back it’s a bit funny.
“I’m never drinking again” I said as I finished my drink. Don’t know if there’s a big party this weekend but that’s okay. It might be better if I stepped away from the party scene for a while.
I did wear a totally hot red dress with black lace that I got from Hot Atopic and the night was fun because I got to show it off and feel like a hot saloon girl.
In the future, some resolutions: no more hookups unless I think it’s going somewhere and I want to make more time for writing poetry or journaling. I am able to think so much more clearly once my thoughts have been poured out on paper. Most of all I am just going to affirm that my mental health and stability is key. There have been times these last few weeks where I was worried I was slipping back into my reckless, impulsive self-destructive habits of 8th and 9th grade.
No. No more. Everyone makes mistakes in college but the difference between healthy people and unstable people is that healthy people do not let their mistakes cause them to spiral out of control.
One last thing- last week I was very overwhelmed dealing with Derrick’s family situation and Amanda’s depression and the fact that they both had self-harmed and had a suicide pact. Amanda showed me the scratches from where she cut herself and then Tuesday (last week) I cut myself.
I had been feeling tempted to since the breakup so I put my sharp nail scissors on top of the bookshelf so that it would be difficult to reach. But last week something set me off and I cut myself (or tried) with nail clippers). As soon as the nail clippers broke the skin, I realized what I had done and flung it across the room. Before that it had been three years since I cut.
But I don’t count this. I stopped before I went too far.
I have also made the decision to get Plan B from Rite Aid. I don’t think I’m pregnant. But I don’t to spend the next month (or several months) worrying I’m pregnant. I’d rather not put my OCD through that. Time to make responsible decisions and do what’s best for me.