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The Comparsion....

Posted by paintinblue2013 , 02 March 2013 · 60 views

Something that always gets to me. Whenever I've talked about what has happened to me, and I know the statement is true, when they say what has happened to me wasn't as bad as someone else. It gets to me. I know it wasn't the same, I know there have been people who went through worse, but how does that change anything about my own convictions of what I had to endure?
Example, when I went to school to get registered for classes, I had to meet with the Dean of Students Affairs, (Hispanic herself), who than begins to tell me that many women she knows coming from Mexico, had to cross many boards to get here, and those who had been raped along the way. I understand her sympathy, I understood what she said, but it angered me, as it made me feel belittled in what I've been through and her own ignorance in understanding the abuse I've expected and had to pull through. Nor her lack of understanding that my family had to cross many boards to come into this land too. Nor the amount of women even with in my own roots who had to suffer. Yes, I was born in America, this doesn't mean my life was any easier, and even then my own Country, naturalized by soil, has offered little in that priority of helping their own people, though they want me to pay taxes to help these others trying to escape. Its not that I mind, nor that I don't have compassion for them, but it frustrating as they act or belittle, or somehow put me aside like I don't deserve the help, or need steps in which would make the burdened less to carry. OR which would provide a bases in which I could be successful.

I'm not saying not to help them, but often it just feels like these people care more about getting others out and helping them achieve and have success in life, while their own people suffer, and have had their own struggles to get to where they are. I am somehow less of a priority in every aspect of my life. I was less of a priority when my parents fought, I was less of priority all through school, and high school and even college. I was less of priority when I went to the police, I was less of priority when I stood before the judge, when I tried to get counseling. I wasn't a priority with my past relationships, my friends, my own family, my brother who kicked me out when I didn't have a job, roommates who couldn't understand. Employment because I don't have children. Jobs in which bosses wouldn't take the time to try to train me or help so that I could be a better employee, customers who just saw me as cashier, people who have yelled at me over the phone, and I was to say nothing.

This is where I get so emotionally drained, I am constantly have to put everyone else first. I constantly have to think about everyone else needs and wants... While my own dreams and aspiration just seem less and less likely to come true. I just want more out of this life. I began working at 15 thinking this would be the first steps in trying to achieve something. I thought running away could solve problems, I thought talking about the pain, what had happened what has been my cross to carry and somehow it means nothing. Like my own existences lacks any kind of meaning, and as if people don't even see me as human. I just feel like I'm suppose to stand by and watch while all others do what they want, while they get what they want out of life, and what I want does not mean anything.

I feel like nothing about my life was ever going to be something. Instead its just been one rape story after the next, which even than isn't that interesting because I wasn't abused as bad as the rest.



April 2014

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