Chapter the Second, Recovery
At first, when I closed my eyes I could still remember what it felt like to see his face looking down upon me while he had sex with me. Remember what it felt like from every position. Remember what it felt like to have his entire presence suffocating me. I woke up scared from many a dream because I thought I felt him in the bed next to me.
Needless to say I was scared.
Recently cut my hair because I remember the way he used to pull on it, sometimes intentionally, sometimes on accident. I never understood whether he meant me harm or not. I wonder if I'm turning into lesbian because I just keep cutting it shorter.
I wear heavy makeup, which I like to call war paint, signaling that I have self esteem issues. I don't dress provocatively. Which is confusing, personally I think it is because I have parents who would put a stop to it.
Sometimes I feel like the world is ending, like it hurts too much to go on. To scared to leave the house or make friends. When I do actually talk to people I feel like I introduce myself like, "Hi, my name is Katara—I have a stalker—of the Southern Water Tribe. It's so nice to meet you!"
People try to talk to me, but I don't care. I don't like to stay in one place for very long and I never sit with my back exposed, it is always against the wall where they can't sneak up on me.
I went though a period of extreme happiness, which is why I haven't written anything for a while because I though that maybe I had healed enough that I didn't need to write it all out. It was the best time of my life those eight months. I had so much energy and I could sleep peacefully for the first time in my life.
I even took a twenty-one hour semester at USWT. That was one hell of a semester. Long hours at school, but it was totally worth it. Because of my determination I am a junior at only eighteen. I kept reasonable grades and I had made a few new friends, but like I had said before I couldn't keep the basic facts of Jet private. So of course, I was the really weird person they only talked to if they had to. End of my friend experience. I did re-connect with a friend of mine from child hood though, but he is from the rougher part of town so I don't think seeing him again is a good idea.
The beginning of that semester I felt powerless and I wanted to start in martial arts again, but didn't have enough time. Instead I got a taser gun and everyday when I leave the house I have it with me. It has become a security blanket that I didn't know I needed. It empowered me; it made me feel, for just a moment, that I could take care of myself. I knew I was delusional, but I liked it nonetheless.
I took a dance class that semester, ballroom. There I had to force myself to let other people touch me. It wasn't that they would touch me in a perverted way; they only did what they were supposed to and were very respectful about it. One hand holding mine and one on my upper back. Well, then we had to learn to tango. One guy liked to lead with a full body lead, which required him to have one leg between mine. I couldn't take it and left the class.
I hated when anyone touched me. It could be as simple as fingers bumping accidently or passing someone in the hallway and they got too close. I especially hated hugs. I flinched and pushed myself against the nearest wall making myself as small as possible, sadly I did that many a time in the course of the dance class. By the end, I was able to break that habit and was able to stop running at any form of physical contact. I still have a problem with it, but it is mostly with people who I barely know. And I think that is very reasonable for the moment.
I devoted myself to homework and family. I get along with Sokka now really well. We stay up watching movies late into most nights.
This semester sucked. I found that there are so many wonderful things to do other than school that I want. Like going paintballing, make friends, watch movies and TV, and not be a workaholic. I found my grades dropping substantially. I'm sure that I will be kicked out of my master's program that I'm in right now. But if I were honest with myself, I don't care. All I want to do is cook. It's my anti-depressant, my escape away from this horror story called life.
I know, I know. Drama Queen, that's me. But hey, this is my story I can be what I want.
Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. Cooking. I want to be a chef, pastry to be specific. I can't remember if I told you before. A lot of time has passed since I last wrote. Hopefully, if all goes well, as soon as I graduate I'll go to a culinary school and learn from the best teachers ever. (This is my, "I hope I go up to be a princess" dream.)
I've learned quite a few things from my mom trying to push some of this anti-depressant/self-help books and movies at me. Also, quite a bit about how to identify losers that always happen to walk into my life. I'll give you an example.
I went to a salsa social and was introduced to a foreign exchange student, he was so cute, but knew absolutely no salsa. So, there wasn't much dancing, but he was willing to try. Needless to say I found him adorable. He asked for my number and was so polite. I gave it to him, thinking that it might be nice to know someone on campus other than losers that don't want to know anymore.
He asked me out on a date, I accepted. He took me out to lunch and we talked until I had to get to my next class. He even paid for me when it wasn't a legitimate "date" so to say. I was so impressed and thought that maybe guys weren't so bad after all.
That weekend we went to watch a movie, again he paid, but the movie was less then acceptable. There was massive cursing and sex and violence. A typical guy movie. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy the movie, quite the contrary. It was just, not a date material, not something I would want to watch with other people.
The things I found out about him that I liked: he was devoted to his family, he was responsible, he seemed honest, not afraid to be himself, and he paid. Things I found out that I didn't like: he smoked (since middle school), he had a weird perfume collection in his car, he didn't pay attention to the general rules placed by the government (such as the lines on the road that you are supposed to stay between), and he cussed (a lot!). None of theses things in and of themselves are overly bad, except the driving, but I couldn't help but feel like he was another bad-boy.
Next thing I knew, he was calling me late at night asking me to be his secret girlfriend! He didn't want his family to know that I even existed. Of course I told him no that I wouldn't be his girlfriend; I wasn't ready to be one of those yet anyway. My guess is that he just wanted a little "action" before returning to the mother country. I told him that we could be "friends." I don't think he really understood what I meant because the next time I talked to him he had a present for me.
He asked me where I was one night; I told him that I was out dancing salsa with Sokka and he could come if he wanted. He didn't actually like to dance because he was no good, but he showed up and paid the five-yuan entrance fee just to give me a present. He gave me a small but pretty bag, inside it was a woven bracelet. Kicking myself for not being clearer, I dragged him outside and told him that we can't be friends because I he can't keep to his side of the friend-zone. I haven't talked to him since.
At least now I know I'm able to recognize when someone is being a manipulative moron. Right?
So I ask: How is this supposed to help me restore faith in humanity?
It doesn't. It only shows that I need to be more judgmental and not as open hearted as I once was. Because I never judged people I attracted the crazies who steal things from me, who use me as a metaphorical punching bag, who try and lead me down a path of destruction, or manipulate the situation so badly that they make me think that I am the crazy one. I hate those people.
In fact, I hate people in general. I don't mind a person, maybe two at one time to talk to and enjoy the other's company. But more than that? No! Absolutely not. I hate it. I run for cover and hide in a small, dark, and quiet room.
When I go on vacation with my family and another family then I lock myself in my room and only come out during the early morning before everyone wakes up. Or when they are all out of the house.
I know I'm not much fun to be around these days. I know I'm a stick in the mud. Well, I can be fun sometimes.
Alright, as a future reference I have compiled a list of things to look for in the next guy. These will be my flashing red lights and sirens sounding telling me to abandon ship. I actually got this off the Internet, it's call the Dump Him List.
You have to tell him more than once to stop
You feel the need to "fix" him
He looks at pornography
He hits you, pushes you, or does anything that frightens you
He gets drunk or takes drugs
He doesn't care if you lie to your family
He leads you away from God
He puts you down and then acts like he's kidding
He cheats on you
He lies to you
He flirts with other girls
He uses guilt to get you to do what he wants
He always resents the time you spend with your family
He behaves badly and blames it on other people or things that happened to him
He can't stand on his own two feet without you
You can't stand on your own two feet and remain pure with him
Until next time,
-Katara
