Tonight is the 4th anniversary of when my first child strangled on her cord during my ninth month of pregnancy. She would have been 4 years old on the 17th. Needless to say i am not sleeping well. I had three nightmares in a row about my mom dying, (shes alive), and i cant get back to sleep.

For some reason this always turns into a game of "how many skeletons can i drag out of my closet and torture myself with in one night?". Im laying here reliving every moment of being raped feeling sick. All i can think of is being dragged out of that party and begging to go home. I remember that sick f*** calling me days later and saying "these girls who were at the party are telling people i drugged and raped you. You dont think that do you?" And i said " no i know you wouldnt do that". WHY?! Because i was 16. I was terrified of what he would say/do if i told the truth. No one believed me anyway, and i just wanted him to forget i existed and to leave me alone. I didnt know if he took pictures or even video. I didnt know how many of his friends raped me. I was afraid that i would be blamed and people would call me a lying whore. So i hid. And i wish i could burn his life down now that its been 7 years. It makes me sick thinking, (knowing), hes probably done it over and over since then. I feel so guilty about that. If i had said something maybe i could have helped other girls.

I hate nights like this.