I don't know what I'm doing

It doesn't stop. (Pt. 1)

(Trigger warning; Mentions of SA and other abuse. Read with caution.)

Part 1 of; "It doesn't stop."

+ Chapters will have 2 parts each posted in different intervals. Depending on the traction they get, I might increase the amount I write and what I post. Thank you for whoever finds this and puts in the time to read it!! +

(There may be many grammar errors or things that are hard to read. I'm sorry in advance for that. I had a hard time writing most of this and it's hard for me to reread it to make any corrections.)

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What he did still haunts me. It's taken me a long time to heal from that pain and to feel like I can breathe again. It's taken me 4 years to finally feel good about myself and my body. My self-image and confidence were taken from me and so was my innocence. I was too young, and it should never have happened to me. I never deserved it, and no one ever does. It caused so much anxiety within myself and made me afraid of men. It made me afraid to trust anyone again. 

He wasn't the only one who did that to me. I was 5 when the first time happened to me. I wasn't able to defend myself from him and I was silenced for months. No one knew what he was doing to me. No one knew that my young mind was being rotted from the inside out and I didn't know it was wrong. I was too young to understand what was happening to me. I was too young to ask anyone for help. Until one day my mom noticed something was wrong, she could physically feel it in her gut. When my babysitter found out about it, she tried to act like it wasn't real. No one reported it, no one saved me till it was too late. It was to fucking late. Everything that he did to me, suffocates me in my dreams and makes romantic relationships harder to manage. It makes me feel disgusting inside. It makes me feel like I'm unable to make love without feeling those things. Lately, I've been so much better. I have someone who makes me feel safe and allows me to enjoy myself without feeling judged. Lately I feel like I can finally embrace every part of my body, even on the days where I hate it the most. 

 Around the time me and Mackenzie had broken up, I was introduced to someone named Joshua Porter. My best friend at the time told me that they were " cool " and fun to hang out with. I had never thought about what could happen to me if I was alone with a boy because I wasn't taught that fear. I was allowed to do whatever I wanted most days. I wasn't told to be careful and look for signs. Infact, I wasn't ever taught what sex, or anything was by my parents. I learned it all on my own, but I didn't learn how dangerous men and people are in general. So, I sent him a message and told him that he was friends with my best friend. We talked for a little while and told each other our favorite video games and movies. He told me about his room and how many games he had. He told me about the PC he built himself with the parts he got from working. He told me about his dead mom and his trucker dad. He told me about his favorite things, like his favorite color. At the time I'm sure it was green. Mine was Maroon and nothing else. We talked on discord and decided to plan a hang out at his place. I told him about my hours for school and when I'd be free to hangout. Then I went over the next day. 

 When I was 5, I was left alone with my babysitter's husband a lot. There were other kids around, but they were mainly little boys and never left the living room. Whenever my babysitter wasn't around, or when I couldn't see her, I'd be taken somewhere else. I can't see the room in my mind or what it could have looked like. I can't see anything but his face. It's dark and I can hear his breath. I can feel it in my mouth. I can feel my young body being violated. I can feel it all. I feel it as I type this out and it burns. It aches. I'm tired and I can't breathe. Why won't he stop? Why can't I breathe? Why won't he let me breathe? I'm trying to tell him to stop but he doesn't seem to hear me. Can he hear me? Does he know that I can't breathe? Then it stops. It all stops. But it doesn't stop for months. Or maybe years. Decades. Centuries. It doesn't stop.