Pain

Yup, you guessed it, like usual, pain is on my mind. Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of my rape and physical assault from last New Year's Eve, 2009. And yup, those are pics from the attack, and that's just the left and right sides of my face. I had cuts all over my entire body. Anytime I didn't do what he wanted, he cut me. If I didn't move fast enough, he cut me. If I didn't make noise for him, he cut me (that's actually how I got most of them, I refused to make noise because I didn't want to wake my child sleeping in the next room, gods forbid if she had drawn his attention). I have everything documented, as did the police and the rape crisis center, pictures included, rape kit done, the whole 9 yards... for all the good it did me. The bastard's still out there and I have no idea where or who he is. I'd know him if I saw him, but I pray I never do, I don't think I'm emotionally strong enough to handle a confrontation with him.
Been finally letting my hair grow back out, chopped it all totally off after the rape because he used my ponytail like a handle, dragging me around by it and using it to direct my head and body to where he wanted them. I had well-meaning friends tell me that if it hadn't been my hair it would have been something else, like an arm... and would I have cut my arm off? But they didn't get it. That urge just would NOT go away until the hair was gone. It's back again this year, only this time the urge is to shave it all off, to try and make myself as ugly, tainted, bad and dirty on the outside as I feel on the inside, and that having a shaved head as a female is a step towards that.
I'm so tired of being broken. Of blaming myself for events out of my control. Of hating the way I look, hating being so super fat even though the excess weight makes me feel safe, because no one wants the fat chicks, right? Of hating myself.