The beginning to the end.

I am moving forward in the way I want. I have tried different methods of making things work, and somehow, it fails. I think I lack the ability to love someone. I feel like I am in love in the first year or so. After that, I begin to see the persons flaws tremendously. I wonder if it stems from having to build my own personal self based on what I see and feel throughout the relationship.

I wasn't raised around a Father so my ability to be protected by predators, abusers, addicts, and so forth is an open field with no borders. People who look for those with low self- esteem and no familial support tend to come for us quicker. Especially when you have a secure home and assets they don't have.

I keep dating people who don't have a pot to piss in. I need to up my standards and remove those type of people out of my life. Even if that means I am alone for awhile. I dated a woman for awhile, which was hell since day one. I still stay connected to her and it did nothing positive for me. Except police contact and lots and lots of verbal and physical abuse.

My night terrors are at an all time high. I scream so loud my throat is sore for days. I have to keep throat lozenges by my night stand to keep myself from losing my voice completely. I've never had anyone not at least give me integrity when I ask them to leave my home. CT is supposed to be one of the best states that deals with Domestic Violence. Not the case at all. They have little to no services for the mentally ill and the homeless.

Yet, they somehow manage to make webpages dedicating this so-called ethic of social service. I tried to go for mental health to help me rebuild myself and learn how to see the "Red flags" in poor relationships. I have no avail in that department. My therapist spoke about pot and rarely wore her shoes during the 1 hour sessions. I felt like she was a bit of lost cause. So I stopped going.

I feel my best option is to go back to New York. Where things made sense, and my home wasn't in jeopardy; and landlords were professional with their tenants. I don't want to go back to Rochester, but for now I would be safe. I wouldn't have to worry about places like Rushford Mental health begging me to take my abuser back into my home despite of a restraining order that specifies no contact at my address.

I had to get this in writing from a Rushford personnel to show the judge the incompetency and the lack of regards to the victims of domestic violence. This state has so many loopholes and taxes it is a wonder how the Government hasn't intervened.

I am going to do what needs to be done to ensure I am safe. And will no longer be allowing people into my home. I will make sure in the future I screen people first. If the person lives off of others, drugs, etc...I will say, NOPE. Even if it looks exciting, that too, will end. 

Same-sex Domestic Violence

This topic is sensitive and not very well documented in the LGBTQ community. This topic needs to be addressed more often. I can say in my experience, it exists. The fear of not having an outlet with the legal system just like any other heterosexual couple is fearsome.

Walking into a safe haven with bruises on my forearms and an eye different shades of the rainbow, my heart beating faster than a set of deep based drums, my mouth is dry from the fear of being seen.... Or never heard. My words would mean nothing, from past experience, "Oh, like a girl fight?" "Your roommate did this?" "What did you say to her to make her angry?" Oh, you don't like men, maybe a man would've protected you." Those lines pierced my soul, my mind.

This safe haven gave me a bed. But the judgement still laid in their eyes. "My pain wasn't strong enough" is what their eyes told me. My rapes weren't of a true phallus thrusting into me, because fingers can't be a weapon from another woman. The kisses with bites on my lips, were from passion and not from a woman. Because in their world, women are victims and passionate.

The blows were small and swift yet strong enough to be from a man. After all, she walked, talked and fucked me like a man thug would. Her hair braided, and pressed down with a durag just like a man. Her skills in the electrical department was ferociously good. Her ability to undermine me in every aspect of my day was her power, as it was my weakness.

She was my first, in everything. Sex, living,and learning how quick it was to give up on love and foundation. I became ashamed of my own sexuality. I began to think back on my child abuse and began to think being with women; can't be natural. Because the blows to my face, showed me this is what women do to each other when they hate each other.

The emotional turmoil hit me at every turn. I was afraid for my life. I had no outlet, no friend who wasn't straight to turn to. I was alone. I got away after four years. By then I was 22 and hated myself and all women who looked like her. I wanted to try the straight life and steer from myself and anything that was toxic. I began to judge my life and said, "this is the way we are supposed to be. With a man." And that is what I did. But guess what?

Men do it too. And I went through the cycle again. Only this time areal phallus was involved.