Jessica’s Story: Traumatic Events Led to Being a Mommy

Jessica’s Story: Traumatic Events Led to Being a Mommy

Hello, my names Jessica and I’m an addict. I’m 19 years old and struggling with PTSD and bipolar disorder, as well as the urge not to use any drugs.
Me, 7 months ago: There isn’t a certain drug I’d consider myself addicted too. I’m just addicted to getting high. If someone were to offer me a Xanax, or some crack, I’d probably accept the offer. Actually I know the me back then would accept the offer. Which is how I got into the situation I am in today.
Seven months ago, I met up with this guy to give me a ride home. I’ve known him for years and never thought of him as a threat. He said he had some cocaine so I offered him to come inside my tiny, tiny camper in the middle of no where. He cut me a line and I opened a beer. Next thing you know I’m in my bed. He pushed himself against me, and in me. I remember saying “No.. No… Stop.. No” But that’s about all I remember. I’m pretty sure that coke was laced with something.
This wasn’t the first time I was sexually assaulted. This was the fourth time it’s happened. Rape is usually something most people think of as something extremely aggressive, sometimes when it happens you can’t help but go silent and just lay there. That’s what happened to me the first time I was raped. I was either 14 or 15 the first time, it actually happened on New Years Day. I thought to myself “If this is how my year is gonna start, how is it gonna end? “.
Well, I was raped two more times that very same year. Second time I had a ” Friend” Over. He was very pushy and consistent but never showed any signs of being sexually interested in me before. We were watching a movie in my room, drinking some beer, when he started to rub my upper, inner thigh. I cringed and asked what he was doing cause I still wasn’t comfortable from what happened to me on New Years. He kept saying things like “it’ll be okay, I won’t be long, cmon PLEASE”. I told him I didn’t want too. Told him to stop. He got on top of me and I froze, he yanks his dick out and he pulls my underwear to the side and shoves it inside me. Suddenly I felt the most strength I have ever felt and pushed him off of me. He went flying. I screamed “GET OUT” and ran into my bathroom, locked the door, turned on the shower and sat there for what seemed like hours.
The third time, was one of the worst. I was with a old friend of mine and she wanted to hangout with this boy she liked. He had a friend with him who was way older than us. I felt out of place the whole time. First, we hung out at the beach and the guys “friend” asked me to rub baby oil on him. After the beach we went back to their house even though I told my best friend I wanted to go home. We all sat in the living room and watched a movie. The girl and her boy toy were cuddled up in a “couch chair” Type thing. And on the other couch was me and the creepy baby oil guy. I got up to use the bathroom, and when I got back creepy baby oil guy was laid down on the couch with a blanket. I sat at the edge. I glanced at my friend and gave her the “come here, now look” cause I felt as if something just wasn’t right. My heart was pounding out of my chest. My friend followed me to the bathroom and I told her I wanted to leave cause I was uncomfortable. She threw a fit cause she wanted to stay and relax. She reassured me everything would be okay. So we go back out to the living room and creepy guy looked at me and opened the blanket up, signaling me to come over to him. So I eat back down, wrapped up and tried to watch the TV. He picked up my legs, turned my body, and laid me down next to him so I was the little spoon. Immediately after he pulled my pants down and shoved his penis in me. I don’t even know how he did it so fast. I shot up and pulled up my pants, ran to the bathroom and cried. My “friend” was upset with me for wanting to leave after he raped me.
Now I have PTSD. It used to be really bad, I wouldn’t let anyone touch me in anyway without having a complete flashback. I still get nightmare of these events, and I don’t like to be touched very often.
Rewind to the first incident. I am now pregnant. Less than two months left to go. My baby girl won’t have a father, she was brought into this world by rape, because I wanted to get high. Keeping her was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made in my life. But I know it was the best one. Three days after I was raped I tried to kill myself by taking a bunch of pills. Woke up in the hospital, and had this weird funny feeling that I wasn’t meant to die just yet. And that funny feeling was right. I never thought I had a purpose in life until now. My purpose is to be a mother.



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