It's odd being in a abusive relationship, you view yourself as the reason your partner is abusive. I always said growing up that I would never let that be me, but somewhere down the line like most things that message got lost. I just was so lonely I didn't care, you wouldn't believe what you are able to over look when you're desperate. I am sure my desperation for love or just someone to hold me at night, so I didn't spend it crying the whole time overrode common sense. Their was no escape anymore from the pain, my boyfriend became just another source of it.
After the whole Mike thing I sort of lost all contact with my hometown and my old life. I always thought about the "good ole days" and still do often but I knew I never would be accepted like I once was. I was just another girl that "Lost herself in L.A.", none of my old friends bothered care or find out why. I like to think if the roles were reversed that I would help one of my old friends if she were me, it hurts not to get the same sort of treatment. I use to go to the beach in my hometown a lot even when I was just starting in the industry but the fear of running into old friends started keeping me away. Then I was gone, people their weren't my friends anymore, the old life I led was just a fading memory.
Somewhere around this time, I began to believe all I had was the industry. To a certain extent I was right, I was dependent on it for pretty much everything in my life. But it wasn't in the good way or positive way I believed, really I was just isolating myself. I still am isolated, I have my industry friends and that is about it. This led me not to just use drugs but to actually need it to just "be myself" whatever that self was. I can't function at a party or in a social situation with friends unless I am drinking or coked up or something. I can't really be outgoing or happy in public unless I am using something artificial to make me happy. My boyfriend made me happy when he complimented me, but really I just wanted the reassurances I was pretty, or worthwhile. Not that I didn't or don't love him, I just needed to hear that someone thought I was special. It really didn't matter what was done to prove otherwise.
This stage of my life is just a blur, years seem like months, months seem like years. I don't know if I hurt myself beyond repair in this blur. I'm so alone in this blur, but I don't care enough to help myself. Their was times, I couldn't breathe seemingly without a bump or an upper. Their were times I just needed a downer to escape myself and my growing depression. The long periods of withdrawl I had after scenes usually ended in suicidal thoughts. The thoughts just came naturally but I figured "Maybe my old friends and family might remember me then".
I did a few particularly degrading websites, where I was humiliated even worse then the rest and I had done. These shoots really took a lot from me mentally, more than I had to give. I did 2 shoots that were like this and I went to both of them so high I could barely even say my name, but it wasn't enough. On the second shoot after we wrapped, I went into the bathroom to clean up and I had what I think was a mental breakdown. I started crying hysterically and uncontrollably, I began shaking and then I made myself sick. Walking out of the bathroom in the state I was was one worst moments of my life. I never wanted to show people what was going on in my head, I wanted everyone to think I was happy and liked my job. No one said anything to me as I left the bathroom, I didn't say bye to anyone I just left. I drove home as hysterical as I was in the bathroom, and was not paying attention at all behind the wheel. I went through a red light at a 4 way and somehow didn't get hit although 2 or 3 cars almost hit me. When I got home I ran inside and locked myself in my room, I snapped. I can say I hated myself after this, like I couldn't even stand to see my reflection.
After the whole Mike thing I sort of lost all contact with my hometown and my old life. I always thought about the "good ole days" and still do often but I knew I never would be accepted like I once was. I was just another girl that "Lost herself in L.A.", none of my old friends bothered care or find out why. I like to think if the roles were reversed that I would help one of my old friends if she were me, it hurts not to get the same sort of treatment. I use to go to the beach in my hometown a lot even when I was just starting in the industry but the fear of running into old friends started keeping me away. Then I was gone, people their weren't my friends anymore, the old life I led was just a fading memory.
Somewhere around this time, I began to believe all I had was the industry. To a certain extent I was right, I was dependent on it for pretty much everything in my life. But it wasn't in the good way or positive way I believed, really I was just isolating myself. I still am isolated, I have my industry friends and that is about it. This led me not to just use drugs but to actually need it to just "be myself" whatever that self was. I can't function at a party or in a social situation with friends unless I am drinking or coked up or something. I can't really be outgoing or happy in public unless I am using something artificial to make me happy. My boyfriend made me happy when he complimented me, but really I just wanted the reassurances I was pretty, or worthwhile. Not that I didn't or don't love him, I just needed to hear that someone thought I was special. It really didn't matter what was done to prove otherwise.
This stage of my life is just a blur, years seem like months, months seem like years. I don't know if I hurt myself beyond repair in this blur. I'm so alone in this blur, but I don't care enough to help myself. Their was times, I couldn't breathe seemingly without a bump or an upper. Their were times I just needed a downer to escape myself and my growing depression. The long periods of withdrawl I had after scenes usually ended in suicidal thoughts. The thoughts just came naturally but I figured "Maybe my old friends and family might remember me then".
I did a few particularly degrading websites, where I was humiliated even worse then the rest and I had done. These shoots really took a lot from me mentally, more than I had to give. I did 2 shoots that were like this and I went to both of them so high I could barely even say my name, but it wasn't enough. On the second shoot after we wrapped, I went into the bathroom to clean up and I had what I think was a mental breakdown. I started crying hysterically and uncontrollably, I began shaking and then I made myself sick. Walking out of the bathroom in the state I was was one worst moments of my life. I never wanted to show people what was going on in my head, I wanted everyone to think I was happy and liked my job. No one said anything to me as I left the bathroom, I didn't say bye to anyone I just left. I drove home as hysterical as I was in the bathroom, and was not paying attention at all behind the wheel. I went through a red light at a 4 way and somehow didn't get hit although 2 or 3 cars almost hit me. When I got home I ran inside and locked myself in my room, I snapped. I can say I hated myself after this, like I couldn't even stand to see my reflection.
