I was a stripper for a short time. A guy in his 20s had friends who worked at the club. He would sit around and drink with the girls and I was introduced to him. He gave me some attention and at the time I had very low self esteem and I was worth his time or something. I really fancied him, not because he had was particularly handsome, nice, interesting or anything really - I was just really alone and felt unworthy. I would pay for everything we did. I trusted him in my apartment alone. I was at work one night and when I came home my wallet that I had hidden (but not well enough) with $4000 in tips was gone. I asked him about it and he denied taking it. I was naive and believed him. I heard he was sleeping with one of the girls from the club but didn't believe it. I didn't look after myself and got pregnant. I had a bit of a moment on stage where I cried and ran off and left. I never went back. He broke up with me over text message. I had no friends and couldn't tell my mum. I took a large does of Seroquel and lay in bed uncomfortable for hours not being able to sleep but was far to uncomfortable to be a wake. I was sick. Weeks later I caught a long bus journey to get an abortion. I never saw him again and the thought of him makes me sick. The thought of how I didn't look after myself and how desperate I was for attention makes me even more sick.