My book fund i guess??

hi, i'm camila, a 21 year old girl from portugal trying to raise money for a life-long project. this project involves firstly a book (or a series of books) on my life and the life of those around me. i'm trying to reach a point in my life where i'm comfortable enough to turn this into a full-fledged tv show, with no taboos or whatsoever around it.
i know this won't be easy and it will take time and every help i can get i will forever be grateful for. it's very hard to write about all the messy stuff that happened throughout these 21 years of existence, and i'm betting it's even harder for you to contribute to something or someone you may have no connection with.
with that said, i'm making it available for all of you to take a look at the first two chapters and the preface that comes with it.
as i'm writing it, my goal is to include in both the book and the (possible) series all kinds of real life situations and problems we, as fragiles individuals, have to go through. i want to help people who feel like they're alone and misunderstood like i do most of times, and the best way i can truly do that is through my writings -- a passion that has been very close to me since i was a little kid, and one that i fully intend to take on now that i'm posting this online.

thank you for reading this and you can read the chapters i was rambling about down below ** TW: sexual assault**

I Notice Everything, I Just Act Like I Don’t

 
This was supposed to be a funny story. A happy ending, funny, lowkey full of drama story. But most of all A HAPPY ENDING story. Yet here I am. The day of my worst nightmare became true. I hate that I'm about to be this person but Facebook literally ruined my life . Okay not literally, because we all know I brought this onto myself.

Let me explain:

The year was 2014. September, 2014. The year I, legitimately, applied for college. I applied for a course I didn't even like in the first place. Because not knowing what to do with my life at freshly made 18 years old was a shame to my whole family. Because wanting to improve my high school grades and therefore, yes, lose a year doing that was completely unacceptable. So there I was, applying for a course I didn't even feel a slightest connection with, but I applied either way because that was pretty much all of what my low GPA had for me. And I was always good at learning new languages so why not study the sciences behind all of them?

Should we talk about how my mental health was at that time? Do we really need to? One thing I can tell you: it was probably much better than it is right now.

I should've started to say that I lived in Portimão, and the college I applied to was in Lisbon. That being said, I should've started looking for a place to stay back then, that summer --but that's another thing about life as a college student that annoyed the shit out of me (and still does if I'm being honest). I would only know if I got in by the time my classes started. So why would I start looking for a place before that? It just didn't make any sense to me, but apparently it did to everyone else. So my mom decided to talk to an old friend of hers who lived near the campus, asking if I could stay there for some time just so I could get back up on my feet and figure out how everything worked in the big city. Shit like adulthood, and having to take care of my own self.

That woman was also the mother of two childhood friends that I was looking forward to get as close to as when we were little kids - Alycia and Katherine.

 
Chapter I

Alycia & Katherine

We met at our mothers' ISKCON (International Society for Krishna Consciousness) that takes place in Lisbon. I was seven, Alycia was eight, and Katherine was three. For years, I spent whole weeks craving Sundays because I knew we were gonna be together and have the best time ever. Like that one time when we were playing with the leaves that were falling off the trees near the Krishna temple. It was autumn. We were just spreading them all around the ground, and one of the ladies came outside and was like "Oh my god girls, what are you doing?", and I can't recall if we looked scared or something, but all of a sudden she just says "Don't bother, Rose will clean it". We burst out laughing so hard because Rose was, just like that lady, simply attending that place to praise the lord and furthermore. What does Rose have to do with this mess? I get why this might not be funny for you, but I find myself giggling every time this comes through my mind.

(There was supposed to be a whole paragraph in here about this little girl who we used to make fun of, but it was probably one of the worst ableist jokes ever anyway. Moving on.)

When I was 13 years old (about to turn 14) I moved from Lisbon to Portimão. My mom had great expectations for our future there. She told me and my brothers everything would get better for us - financially talking, I guess. Plus the city had the "bonus" of being really quiet, especially in the winter. I wasn't very happy about this. In fact, I was really upset that after I finally managed to make some friends at school I had to move and leave them all behind. Again.

Mainly because I knew, deep down, that soon enough they would forget about me and move on with their lives, even though they wouldn't admit it --at first. Nothing to blame them for though, at 13 years old no one's that commited to a friendship or to any other kind of relationship, I guess. I can only blame my early abandonment issues.

[I was always that ugly, weird kid who wore glasses and sweatpants everyday. By that time I was already struggling with anxiety and probably also developing some other mental illnesses that I deal with now, so that made the experience even worse than it was already supposed to be. That being said, I must tell you that from the moment I was born until I turned fifteen, I've never really had many friends besides my cousins (Agustín and Mariah, who I’ll dwell about in future chapters) and Alycia and Katherine, whom I started considering family since we met, to be quite honest.]

By that time it never even crossed my mind how I'd probably lose contact with them both, though. I always saw myself as a little selfish. Not in a "only me, myself and I matter" kind of way, but more in a "if it's you who I'm spending more time with now, it's only you that I'm going to care about now" way. I always saw that as a flaw, but if I'm being totally honest, now I realize it works as a defense mechanism. Deep down it's no one's fault, and I feel really bad for everyone who I wittingly (or unwittingly) did this to.

I skyped two or three times with Alycia during the whole four years I lived in Portimão. We talked on Facebook and on every other platform too, but it was obviously never the same. So when my mother brought up the idea of moving into their house so I could settle in, I was very excited. I was also very scared. I mean, even if we couldn't admit it, our relationship was clearly different. We all changed, a lot. I have always struggled with holding down any relationship, especially if I don't feel like I spend enough time with them, so whenever I tried to reconnect with whoever it was that I had distanced myself from, I'd get very anxious like it was the first time I was meeting them. But it wasn't hard getting to meet Alycia and Katherine the first time. So why would it be now? Well, maybe because when I first met them we were just three little girls looking for someone to mess with. Maybe because back then I was mentally sane. Maybe because my actions weren’t dictacted by how depressed I felt.

I know I pin almost everything, if not everything, on my mental disease, and for that I am truly sorry.

2014. I moved in with them in early September. I did not know how this was going to work out. In fact, I think none of us were aware of how this was going to be. Were we going back to "normal", like the good ol' days? Was it going to get more and more awkward by the week?

The first days were actually fine, considering the whole situation. We weren’t talking as friends should; we talked enough for housemates. I was worried we wouldn’t be able to get back where we were before I left, especially because I’m awful at displaying my emotions towards anyone. I always was much better at writing them down and handing it to whoever it was. We spent some time together. We watched a few movies, we went shopping, we were going out for dinner, but it was not enough. I loved them like family, but it was too much for me to handle at the same time: I had moved out of my mom's house and for the first time I was living on my "own" too. I had moved to a "big city", one I could meet my “internet friends” at, the ones I was related the most to. It was just too much stress for me to handle, which left me with this wish of getting as close to them as we were before. I did not prioritize it and maybe that was my big mistake. 

Sadly my stay at their place was short. On February of the next year, we had a “Chicken Little” moment at their house. You see, the ceiling literally fell off. The kitchen ceiling, which was next to my bedroom. (One of the things that bugged me a lot too was that my room was previously Katherine's, so in order for me to have my privacy, she had to move her stuff to Alycia's bedroom. That was terrible now that I look back. Sorry girls.)

As of this moment, I still talk to them, but it's not the same, and it will probably never be. I'm glad to know them, though. They're one of the most strong women I have ever known and when times turn hard on them, they somehow manage to turn tougher and tougher, and for that I legitimately look up to them.

 
Chapter II

I’m still not sure about how I’ll name this chapter, but it's going to be about my very first real "internet friends" (God, this term again). As you can tell, I met them online. We skyped, we went on Tinychat for hours, overall we just communicated a LOT via internet without ever meeting in real life. Mostly because we all lived far from each other. I mean, it's not like Portugal is a big country anyway but I, for instance, lived at least three hours away from Jake and Harry. They both lived close to Lisbon. Ward, on the other hand, lived further away, close to Porto.

Summer 2014, I invited all three of them to my house, in Portimão. It was fun; looking back, I really miss it. We literally went out every night to get wasted, for a week or so (sorry, Mom). It was a really good bonding process in my opinion. I've always found it easier to bond under the influence of any substance, really.

I met Jake in real life in 2013, on a Twitter meeting (lame, I know). He was the one I knew longer out of the three. My cousin Agustín also came to that meeting. I don't know what it was with Twitter "cliques" but I was always, somehow, involved in most of them. We also had very corny names: our first group chat was literally called "Ninos Do Tacão" (NDT) and that’s where I first met Jake. Agustín was also a member of this group. We were overall extra, but I guess I can say I liked everyone back then. I was starting to gain trust on everyone like a whole group, but after a year we all distanced ourselves from each other. I guess that's just the cycle of life.

So after NDT there was “Camila e afins”, in which Jake was also a member of, as well as Harry and Ward. Agustín, on the other hand, wasn't. And at the time he actually disliked every single person who was a member of it. That was the summer we all started to officially get along(-ish). I mean, Agustín hated all of them before. The one he probably hated the least was Jake, due to previous acquaintance of him. So after a week or so of practically living together, all of them had no other choice but to give each other a chance. Agustín arrived there shouting to the four winds about how much he despised them, only to end up making out with every one of them. In like four to five nights, he managed to make out with Jake, Harry and Ward. Some in the same night. Some nights all at the same time (I kind of joined them that night too. We just kissed all at the same time: we called it "beijinho da amizade", which translates to "friendship kiss". Some headassery right? Yeah, I know. And then one on one.) It was a good summer. One that'll never slip my mind.

Then September came. I finally moved to Lisbon. As well as Ward. We hung out a lot. Mostly because we were the only ones actually living "by ourselves", comparing to everyone else in the group. We were hanging out a lot back then. Day and night, through rain and sun. We were going out every night, from Monday to Saturday. We never went on Sundays though; we thought that'd be too depressing, even for us.

So one of those nights, I went out with my cousin Mariah. We started the night at her friend's place. Just drinking and chilling. It was all good – but I felt kind of repressed, like I wasn't being myself in the beginning of that night, so decided right there, that if I wanted to socialize like a normal person for once, I'd have to drink myself up to that. And I did. (Big mistake by the way, turns out I just wasn't feeling myself because I felt judged and observed in this white preppy house.)

Then everything's a little bit of a blur. I remember meeting Ward and his best friend Beatrice. Everything was amazing. I was talkative, receptive. The bar closes. We leave. Bea’s mother said she was going to call her sister (who lived with them) at 3am to see if she was home, because she promised she would be. So we start running. We were late for the bus, after all. Halfway to the bus, someone asks me "What time is it?", so I reach for the phone I had recently bought on my bag and end up remembering I left my bag on the floor at the bar, without checking on it every now and then, acting completely careless and forgetful of my own material things now. I stop and tell them I don't have my phone and that we have to go back. At this point, I'm completely freaking out on the inside, but keeping my posture on the outside, so I act fine: "Yeah guys, so I think I just lost my phone, would you mind going back to the bar with me so I can check if it's still there?". But Beatrice couldn't fail her mother like that, besides she was already late. And Ward was her best friend. He wouldn't let her go home all alone - she was a girl, wandering alone at night, in a freshly "new" town, after all. They made their minds up and ran all the way down the street, screaming "sorry" at me a lot of times. I had never felt so alone in my life. I, too was a girl, alone, (in case you haven't noticed) with no phone, in a city I didn't know, at night. I just froze. I was supposed to go up and see if the bar was still open, but I couldn't. I just froze. I believe I just stood there 5 minutes straight not doing anything at all. Just frozen. I started walking down that same road. Then I started uncontrollably crying. I didn't even know what bus I was supposed to catch because everytime I had gone out I rode on the same bus as them. So, just to recap: I was alone, considerably drunk, unreachable, and now lost. This had to be the worst night ever. So I wandered until I reached a bus stop. I found a guy. I don't remember his face nor his voice nor his name. I think I was too drunk to know or maybe it's just a coping mechanism I've learned to repress this whole night.

This guy, he really helped me get to my house, which at the time was still at Katherine and Alycia’s. He told me which bus I should ride in to get there and all of that – he even decided to take that trip with me. He stopped where I did. He then proceeded to follow me home. And I've always had trouble saying "no" to people, but I did say it to him. Several times. I told him he couldn't come in cause this wasn't my house, but he kept claiming it was just for half an hour. I kept saying I couldn't. We couldn't. He could not. But he got in anyway. We got to my bedroom. He started taking his clothes off. Then mine. I kept repeating "What are you doing?”. He just kept going. He just kept forcing himself on me, like some sort of animal who could not be controlled. I kept resisting, but there was just a moment I decided to give up. Tears running down my face with an apatethic expression all over it. I have no clue the look he had on his face, even if he had any. This was how I "lost my virginity" (quoting because, and call me whatever you want, but virginity IS a social construct). I don't know when he left. The last thing I remember is just standing there, waiting for him to be over with. I don’t even remember falling asleep. The next day I woke up and I was so upset at myself that I stared at the ceiling for five hours straight.

Katherine came knocking on my door after those five hours of solitude, accompanied by Harry and my cousin Mariah. They both looked mad. I’d promised Harry I’d meet him that morning. I was 4 hours late. I was still unreachable.

I should’ve never had those many drinks. I should’ve never talked to strangers in a night I'm not familiar with. I never should've let him in. But I did. And this, as sad as it is, has and will always haunt me.

But they couldn't know this would've happened. Neither could Ward or Beatrice. So I didn't tell anyone.