My secret

I'm writing this entry in the spirit of Post Secret, since that's where I would send it, if I could find a card to write it on:

I told my mom my secret today, when she asked if I had been sexually abused.  I had always avoided telling her before, but today I told her.

I told her because she told me how she had tried to cope with it - it hurt so much, I wanted to give her a reason for why.

It hurts more to know her secrets that it was to keep mine.

The conversation had turned very personal and emotional before she asked, and I was horrified by what she told me.  I think that it hurts more to know that you've hurt someone, especially someone that you care about so much, than to know how much someone else has hurt you.

I don't know what to do with all the information I'd been given.  It's easier to ignore how stupid I used to be, and much harder having to re-examine it and try to give a reason why.  I can't pinpoint a reason. 

I wish so much that I could live those years over, knowing what I know now.  For her and for me.

We also talked about how my life is going nowhere and how she feels sorry for me, more than anything.  She asked if being with Tyler was really so different from Adam - if the only difference is that I'm not scared and I don't cry everyday.  To me, that makes all the difference.  But if you take that away, and look at what I can and cannot do - am and am not doing for myself - it's the same. 

I'd brought up how important going back to school is before, and I stressed that I needed to do something with my life - that I didn't want to be a failure for the rest of my life.  I don't think that he understands how urgent this is.  I've hoped he would realize it on his own, but I almost feel like I need to give an ultimatum to get his attention.  I'm just worried that it'll go against me. 

That had nothing to do with the secret, but I had to get it out.  Even after only a few hours, all that was eating away at me, and I had to get it out.