Tamika – I’m honestly sorry to hear that things have gone so badly for you. As someone that I once considered a friend, and remember laughing and playing Cranium with, I would have never wished for your life to fall apart any more than it has. I was mad at you for a long time, don’t get me wrong. We all considered you part of “them” and held a lot of the wrong that happened to us by them against you. Now, I’m not sure how much you were really a part of, or if you really knew what you were getting into. You weren’t the only one hurt by this whole thing though, and probably not the most affected. Once things turn around for you, I am sure that you will never think about P2P again. Ten, twenty years from now, when you look back on your life and the struggles you went through, you’ll remember this time, but won’t be affected by it. Thank God for that.

As for me –

I can’t say that I don’t have a great amount of joy in hearing that Marc has left the country. I don’t feel that all of North America, Canada, Central and South America is enough space to confine the two of us within. Maybe the world doesn’t even have enough space. Of all the people in my life that have hurt me, even my own biological father, Marc is the one who did the most damage.

Not everyone has simply “moved on” from that experience. You aren’t the only one still living with it. When I first came “home” (not that I had a home to come back to) I spent several weeks doing nothing but laying on my friends couch. That was all. I layed on the couch and stared at the ceiling and cried, I layed on my side on the couch and stared out the window and cried, I layed on the couch and listened to the reporters knock on the door and cried, and I layed on the couch and watched the news, which we were on every single night, and got angry…then cried. I didn’t see friends, I didn’t want to explain to them what happened. I still don’t, and haven’t…I’ve never been able to get to explaining it. Everyone who knows me knows not to bring it up anymore though. I did begin to explain it to my mother, because after crying an obscene amount and not sleeping and watching yourself plastered all over the news in a bad light, your judgement gets a little wacky. She disowned me. I embaressed her.

So finally I got a job. I acted normal. I didn’t feel normal. I felt like a veteran getting back from war, shell shocked. I decided that I still hated people too much, and ended up quitting. Still to this day, everytime I meet someone new I wonder, I have absolute anxiety, over whether or not they’ve heard of P2P and seen me on the news. So I got another job…still didn’t feel right. Then I got robbed at that job, so that’s how that one ended. I thought about ending my life a lot, dared myself to just do it, wondered if that would really end my problems. Who knows? How do we know that our problems don’t follow us after death, especially when you end your life prematurely? I’m not sure if I want to run the risk. I would hate to feel as empty and massacred as I do now, but in never ending darkness.

There are days now that I go through and feel relatively normal, although not the same. All of my friends keep telling me that I’ve changed so much since coming back; that I’m different now. They tell me it’s not for the better. I’m not sure what exactly has changed. I’m a lot more sad these days. There are a lot of days that P2P sets in on my mind, and I can’t shake it. It angers and saddens me at the same time, and both to their most extreme levels. I feel empty, hollow, not human, hopeless… It’s the worst feeling in the world. The worst part is, I don’t have any control over it, it’s just there. I can be in the middle of driving and singing with the radio when it takes over, or out with friends, or in the middle of any busy day. I feel like a genuinely insane person.

I find myself thinking of the good times a lot too. Almost constantly. It’s hard to have all these memories that are so compartmentalized from the rest of my life and everyone I know. I can’t share them with the people I talk to day-to-day. I still talk to some of the girls every once in a while, and I thank God for that. I miss those good times. When they were good, they were the best. For being the worst experience of my life, I’ve gotten from it some of my absolute fondest memories. Remembering them kill me almost as much as remembering the bad parts…I’m not exactly sure why. Even now I’m crying. I don’t think that will ever change.

P2P is a chapter of my life that sits neatly in the back of a closet in a school folder. That’s where I have newspaper clippings, on-line articles, hurtful blogs from people who have no idea, tickets from outtings, my name tag from the audition…I have it all filed away. My skeleton: “A Walk Down April Lane”. I never take it out, and I never look at it. Someday when I die, I’m sure someone will find it, and if it happens to be years from now, I’m sure it will be a shock. It’s there if I ever feel like facing it though. I’ve surcumbed to the fact that I will never escape P2P. It will never stop hurting me, and I will never feel OK about it. And I hate that. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it..I don’t want to cry every other day because of something that happened nearly a year ago. I don’t want to feel so used, so alone, so different.

I think Tamika’s quote is a great one…”Even though it might not get better tomorrow, YOU DO HAVE THE STRENGTH TO FACE IT!”…even when you don’t think you possibly could.

Tamika – I’m honestly sorry to hear that things have gone so badly for you. As someone that I once considered a friend, and remember laughing and playing Cranium with, I would have never wished for your life to fall apart any more than it has. I was mad at you for a long time, don’t get me wrong. We all considered you part of “them” and held a lot of the wrong that happened to us by them against you. Now, I’m not sure how much you were really a part of, or if you really knew what you were getting into. You weren’t the only one hurt by this whole thing though, and probably not the most affected. Once things turn around for you, I am sure that you will never think about P2P again. Ten, twenty years from now, when you look back on your life and the struggles you went through, you’ll remember this time, but won’t be affected by it. Thank God for that.

As for me –

I can’t say that I don’t have a great amount of joy in hearing that Marc has left the country. I don’t feel that all of North America, Canada, Central and South America is enough space to confine the two of us within. Maybe the world doesn’t even have enough space. Of all the people in my life that have hurt me, even my own biological father, Marc is the one who did the most damage.

Not everyone has simply “moved on” from that experience. You aren’t the only one still living with it. When I first came “home” (not that I had a home to come back to) I spent several weeks doing nothing but laying on my friends couch. That was all. I layed on the couch and stared at the ceiling and cried, I layed on my side on the couch and stared out the window and cried, I layed on the couch and listened to the reporters knock on the door and cried, and I layed on the couch and watched the news, which we were on every single night, and got angry…then cried. I didn’t see friends, I didn’t want to explain to them what happened. I still don’t, and haven’t…I’ve never been able to get to explaining it. Everyone who knows me knows not to bring it up anymore though. I did begin to explain it to my mother, because after crying an obscene amount and not sleeping and watching yourself plastered all over the news in a bad light, your judgement gets a little wacky. She disowned me. I embaressed her.

So finally I got a job. I acted normal. I didn’t feel normal. I felt like a veteran getting back from war, shell shocked. I decided that I still hated people too much, and ended up quitting. So I got another job…still didn’t feel right. Then I got robbed at that job, so that’s how that one ended. I thought about ending my life a lot, dared myself to just do it, wondered if that would really end my problems. Who knows? How do we know that our problems don’t follow us after death, especially when you end your life prematurely? I’m not sure if I want to run the risk. I would hate to feel as empty and massacred as I do now, but in never ending darkness.

There are days now that I go through and feel relatively normal, although not the same. All of my friends keep telling me that I’ve changed so much since coming back; that I’m different now. They tell me it’s not for the better. I’m not sure what exactly has changed. I’m a lot more sad these days. There are a lot of days that P2P sets in on my mind, and I can’t shake it. It angers and saddens me at the same time, and both to their most extreme levels. I feel empty, hollow, not human, hopeless… It’s the worst feeling in the world. The worst part is, I don’t have any control over it, it’s just there. I can be in the middle of driving and singing with the radio when it takes over, or out with friends, or in the middle of any busy day. I feel like a genuinely insane person.

I find myself thinking of the good times a lot too. Almost constantly. It’s hard to have all these memories that are so compartmentalized from the rest of my life and everyone I know. I can’t share them with the people I talk to day-to-day. I still talk to some of the girls every once in a while, and I thank God for that. I miss those good times. When they were good, they were the best. For being the worst experience of my life, I’ve gotten from it some of my absolute fondest memories. Remembering them kill me almost as much as remembering the bad parts…I’m not exactly sure why. Even now I’m crying. I don’t think that will ever change.

P2P is a chapter of my life that sits neatly in the back of a closet in a school folder. That’s where I have newspaper clippings, on-line articles, hurtful blogs from people who have no idea, tickets from outtings, my name tag from the audition…I have it all filed away. My skeleton: “A Walk Down April Lane”. I never take it out, and I never look at it. Someday when I die, I’m sure someone will find it, and if it happens to be years from now, I’m sure it will be a shock. It’s there if I ever feel like facing it though. I’ve surcumbed to the fact that I will never escape P2P. It will never stop hurting me, and I will never feel OK about it. And I hate that. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it..I don’t want to cry every other day because of something that happened nearly a year ago. I don’t want to feel so used, so alone, so different.

I think Tamika’s quote is a great one…”Even though it might not get better tomorrow, YOU DO HAVE THE STRENGTH TO FACE IT!”…even when you don’t think you possibly could.

you 4 are nothing to me, but I still have to get over the fact I was manipulated, used, and abused emotionally. thank you and have a great life.