This video is part of the video series Born in Hell. This video contains graphic and explicit material. Please listen at your own discretion. If the topics of abuse of any kind, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, or violence bother you, please do not watch this video. I had moved Cecil into his own apartment and moved myself into an apartment downtown, close to the pub I was Sous Chef at. I was sad that Cecil and I had separated, but we had decided that we were not really "breaking up", but just living separately. I missed having him around and it took some time just to figure out what I would do with my time, what I liked to eat and it really felt like a loss in my life. I would go visit Cecil twice a week and cook supper for him, go to the store for him and help him with anything he needed. I was really just checking on him to make sure he was okay at his new apartment. There was a nurse onsite in his building but I just wanted to make sure that his needs were being met. I began to settle into my new suite, and because I have more time on my hands, I begin to experience more flashbacks, and more problems stemming from the abuse I suffered as a child. It always seemed that when I was on my own, the abuse and adult survivor issues would hit me in the face. I was still working with my friend at the pub, and as I turned 41 years old, my friend decided that she wanted a new guy who had just started working at the pub to be her Sous Chef. My friend turned on me and began to tell me hurtful things and tell me that she found I was too much and needed help. She started a fight with me at work one day and I blew up at her and quit the job and the friendship. It was really just more rejection. Cecil rejected me, he moved out. My friend rejected me, she wanted me out of her life. I was very much on my own again and even though Cecil and I were still a "couple", I was very lonely and depressed. I kept on working and got a new job. Within the first 3 weeks they fired me, saying that I just wasn't fitting in there. I was 41 years old and had never been fired before. I picked up unemployment for a while and took a break. The same day I was fired, I found out that I had to move out of my suite because the lady who owned it had to sell it. I moved across to another building to another suite and as I was slowly unpacking in my new place, the toll of that year began to manifest. Cecil moved out, my best friend rejected me, I lost my job, I got fired from a new job, I had to move and have very little funds to work with. It was all too much. I began to sink into a depression and one month after I moved to the new place I got a phone call from my abuser dad who was living in Arizona at this time. He phoned to say hello and immediately began to run my dead mother down into the ground. He began to call her all the names he called her as I was growing up. I could not believe he would do that. She had been dead and in the ground for 10 years and he was still running her down. I became very angry and told him I would never speak to him again if he ever did that again. He said he wouldn't and we ended the conversation. As the weeks rolled on, I was looking for work and not finding anything. I was having flashbacks on a regular basis, body memories were haunting me and the pain in my heart was so intense that I could not deal with it. I began to sink into a black pit of despair and one night while sitting on my couch in the dark, I picked up a rusty screwdriver off my coffee table and decide that I should self injure. I wanted to rip my body to shreds with it in order to show the world what my abuser parents and brother had done to me. I wanted to end the pain and began to think of ways to end my life. I wanted the pain to be over and as I sat there holding the screw driver in my hand, I began to convince myself that this should be it, I should do it and take myself out. Then I began to think about who I was doing that for, was it for me to end my pain or was it to force my family to care about me. I realised that no one would care if I self injured or killed myself. No one cared that my two brothers killed themselves. The world doesn't care and I realised that no one cares. I knew that Cecil would never understand why I would end my life. It would bother him because he was emotionally stable and he would not have understood. One side of myself was telling myself to go ahead and do it, and kill myself. The other side was telling me to live. I was in so much pain emotionally, I could not see myself taking another breath. All the body memories were there from the physical abuse, the child rape and sodomy, and all the verbal abuse assaults were rolling around in my head. The one side of myself was telling me to go ahead and end it all, after all, I was just a rape child no one wanted, I was just a whore and useless and no one cared about me. The other side was telling me to live, live, live. I decided to put the screw driver down and from that moment on made the decision to live. I made a promise to myself and to God to live, to reach out and to get help and this is my victory! I win this fight! Every day that I wake up is my victory over my abuser family. I am healing, reaching out, getting help, learning to love myself, learning to take care of myself, learning to manage life and coping skills. I hope that anyone watching this will remember, you do count, you do matter and you did not deserve to be abused in any way. Please reach out and get help, no matter what kind of help it is. Make the RIGHT choice! LIVE!
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