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  1. I just discovered this website has a blog. I will try to use it but uhh...I'll probably forget.

    Today was an odd day. I'm a school counselor so many of my days are odd..usually in a bad way.. but today was one of those "just right" odd days that makes me laugh.

    There was a weird sixth grade gang fight today among the most mild mannered boys ever. It was weird. Like six or seven of them just decided to beat the hell out of each other in the hallway..except the hell wasnt beat out of anyone because they're all too nice and respectful. So they basically pushed and shoved each other, a slap was thrown in, someone punched someone else's was pretty half hearted but still landed them in the principals office.

    I walked in and they were all scattered about the room, trying to appear like they didn't care and that being in the office didn't matter to them. Nothing says Badass like glistening tears rolling down your face! Anyway, it's one of my favorite things that happened today because it was so funny. I'm a horrible counselor because I couldn't help but make some jokes about it. 

    I had to put a sign on my door today that said PLEASE KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING AND WAIT FOR SOMEONE TO ANSWER THE DOOR FIRST. You'd think this would be common sense, but apparently it isn't for middle schoolers. They were just busting up in my office constantly, ruining my sessions with some kids, and seeing kids cry or angry..not cool. My office is a private safe space so they need to quit being rude and opening my door whenever they want!

    I asked our office helper, who is in high school and working in our office as part of his internship program, if he'd go get some mail for me from the next building today because I was so busy I couldn't. He looked at me as if I was crazy, rolled his eyes and sat there like a deflated balloon. OH NO YOU DIIEENNNTTT GIRLFRIEND. He's there to assist us, that's the whole point, to get real world work experience, so when people ask you to do something GET YOUR BUTT UP KID! I promise I'm not an arrogant bossy douchebag, I never ask anyone favors, but I really was busy and needed his help. He finally moped around and did it. THE FUTURE GENERATION SCARES ME. THESE SLOTHS ADE GOING TO BE SUPPORTING US SOME DAY. That is, if they can put down the iPhones and Xbox controllers long enough to get their lazy bones up and GET A JOB.

    Speaking of arrogant douchebags, that brings me to the Dicks portion of my blog title. There's this kid in seventh grade who is a total jerk..I'm sorry people but it is what it is, ok? I actually like the kid but he's a total turd at times. And he has reason to be,,he's had a horrible year, so many things gone wrong in his life this year so no wonder he's acting out. But every day he threatens someone, fights with his teacher, makes sexual comments..list goes on and on. He's in a special ed room with a teacher who is an arrogant douchebag. He's a coach or some crap and thinks he's a God. He spends most of his time on his phone in class and sends this kid to sit in the hallway all day playing games because he doesn't want to deal with him. I've tried my best to help this kid and I totally admit, I've failed. Anyway, today the douchebag smarted off to me and implied basically that I suck and counseling is useless. He is what the kiddos call a di*k.

    And now read that paragraph and you will see what a judgmental jerk I can be. If I had to be stuck with this kid all day I'd cry, I'd probably send him out too. I would have no clue what to do. So now you can see I'm judgmental and I have a mean streak because all the guy did was say something kind of hurtful and rude and I immediately wanted to attack him. I don't even really know anything about the guy, and I've judged him. Im an overly sensitive snowflake!

    Anyway, after work it was beautiful out so my niece and I took a walk up the road. Along the way, nine million dogs followed us. I know what people say...never trust someone who doesn't like dogs. So maybe don't trust me because I'm just going to toss this out there...I don't like dogs. Big ones, anyway. They terrify me. I had a bad experience with one when I was little and have been terrified ever since. Small ones are okay..ish. They're just so annoying and they are into everything and they smell. I do like playing with them and petting them but I don't think I'd like to own one.

    Anyway, this crippled lab dog comes hobbling up to us and follows us all the way back home. I was going to catch him and load him up in the bed of the truck and take him back home burn Then we couldn't catch him. He chased cats, he chased neighbors chickens, he even went inside our neighbors house! You'd think a crippled dog couldn't be so fast. Finally, with a lot of chasing, we caught him and took him back. It was kind of fun and amusing.

    We also fed the ducks in the pond. I'm a weirdo but I love birds and always carry bread with me when I walk in case I meet some birds! I have a container of birdseed in my car. I AM ALWAYS PREPARED FOR MY BIRD FRIENDS.

    Now it's a nice cool evening, frogs are hollering, and I love spring. Today was one of those rare days where I didn't think about anything bad or my past or what a loser I am. I wish I had more days like this.

    ok. Bye.

  2. bad tw

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    been having really bad depression and triggers. dont want to bathe or do laundry, just woke up, did the usual. 

    i lost a friend, or did i. my need to control everything is severe. b/c its the only way i know how to stay safe.

    i have given so much of myself to others, and im tired of ptsd, b/c it wins. every day. i am not a warrior or a superwoman im just me. seems like only heaven holds love. 

    i think the judgment from others slowly kills. humans dont realize they affect each other so much. in this society, its all rush rush stress make money, our entire lives are devoted to survival and we forgot how to take care of ourselves, each other, and the world. 

    bc of inequity and inequality violence will continue. the native indians were the only ones who got it right imo. i saw a video of wolves on a highway videotaped by a woman and it made me sick b/c we have hurt them so much. 

    i feel like to fix this country we have to acknowledge the wounds towards AA's, vets, and native indians among others, take a leap of faith in a direction that goes beyond our fears of the "other". reparation and public healing. its not gonna happen any other way. this is our history, admit it. admit the wounds fester still. admit our bigotry hatred and cruelty. then try and find common ground, interfaith work, work that crosses boundaries, see our common links not what divides us, nothing new under the sun. stop making assumptions about people. stop judging them. stop hating ourselves. stop. the work of peace is wicked hard. war is easy. nothing new. 

    abuse shames the soul and makes the person feel a nothing, but i am not nothing, i am something. i dont need forgiveness anymore. i need to see in my humanity is strength and beauty 

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    All I seem to think about after an episode is how I'm screwing everything up. I just don't allow myself to win and it's totally unfair and is absolutely self sabotage. 

     I will feel so messed up as though it's causing so many problems in my current relationship. BF is absolutely the best thing that has ever happened to me. He's been my best friend and been there for me through all of it, big and small and huge and terrifying. In those moments during or after a flash back I'll feel scared, on the shock/shaking level. Mostly after I'll feel like I'm losing my mind because I'm unsure how to process what I'm experiencing.

     It can be difficult finding the balance among blocking, numbing, and being overwhelmed, but you gotta know how GLORIOUS it is for me to have someone who always has my back and reminds me to do breathing exercises, holds my hand or me in general as long as I need :) .

    I know the thoughts are irrational constructed from of hurt and fear, but I can still FEEL them as though it were all true no matter WHAT my brain is saying. Maybe this blog is my way of sorting it all out? haha!  I know they aren't rational and I also know my past experiences have been s**t and BF is not remotely the same. I have a comparison now of awful and spectacular. He uses his strength to comfort and protect me instead of dominate and control. What a blessing that is in itself! Do you think that somewhere down the line it's gonna be too much for him and I'm gonna lose him because I can't function, or am not up to par? It comes and goes, guaranteed after revisiting a traumatic event, but I'll have bouts of extremely low self esteem, shut down my communication, self sabotage, give way to trust issues, you name it. As I said, it comes and goes but lately it's been really present and hardly under the surface. Would some of that have to do with being in a good place, with a reasonable amount of safety - like I'm somewhere safe so it's ok to process now? Guh there's so much more to write but I've already written a novel with my intro "blog pilot: conquer". I just need an outlet that connects to people who maybe feel the same thing or can understand it better than most people. I'm trying to stabilize through flash backs and episodes,with the nerves and anxiety - I just want to be ok. BF deserves that and so do I. I don't want to feel messed up and broken anymore because of things I didn't choose or weren't my fault. I could argue that it was my fault that I stayed and endured those things, but given my current perspective, I don't believe that. I have to remember that I was doing the best with what I had and that is exactly how I survived. I've been running from, ignoring and blocking out as much of the memories and feelings as I can but it results in crazy triggers, numbness, isolating myself, thinking about self harm to compensate for emptiness, disconnecting, or feeling overwhelmed if I go about it that way. I ALWAYS feel a gajillion times better if I just express to BF what's going on but mentally I'm not always in a good place and I don't want to dump this all of BF and weigh him down or feel like a burden (which he would fight vehemently - he hates that I feel this way at ALL and just wants to love me. I really think he would do anything for me. really.) . There are times I want to tell him things after an episode but my mouth just stays SHUT no matter how DESPERATELY I want to reach out to him.....AND if he walks away I feel alone like he ditched me when I needed him most but he couldn't have possibly have known that because I'm not communicating, mostly because sharing all this makes me feel like I'm complicating too much and it's just too messy to smooth out (which isn't true). However, I HAVE shared. So, maybe it's just a matter of practice. I need to share, join and interact with people who know my pain or what I'm going through. Because even though there are people here for me, I still feel alone because no one REALLY REALLY gets it, they can only do so much and I feel super touchy about everything especially after an attack.  I don't know what's holding me back from greatness other than myself, I choose how I get to deal with these things. I am a repeated sexual trauma victim and I finally found something good and all I worry about is how I'm gonna break this wonderful gift no matter what I do, or don't do. I know I think this way because of things that happened to me that weren't my fault, but that's just it. They weren't my fault. I stayed determined and devoted through some of the worst things-so maybe it'd be kind of impossible to mess this up unless I did it on purpose. Maybe I will always experience these episodes and panic attacks. Maybe they will never go away. I feel impaired, but it doesn't mean I am. hahaha It's like a massive pep talk, but I think it's necessary. Not everyone understands me and my not communicating can make things harder when the words don't always come out. Remember though, it used to be that I didn't speak at all, and if ever I did it didn't matter to the other person. It's a whole other ball game now :) I have a team player. It seems to me that every little thing has the possibility to trigger or manifest something emotionally painful, but being numb and trying to run away from all the aftermath that comes from these sorts of things is not the way to really live my life. Not properly dealing with all of it is actually hurting me more....when I "allow" the feelings or memories to happen it's like I can't ground myself or I get lost in the memory and it's like I can't see where I am - I am in that moment. but I can choose afterwards what to do with myself. AND I'M NOT ALONE.  All the intimacy between BF and I could be spoiled too unless I open up more. Hopefully making a blog and writing about it will help me with that too. I disconnect, or seem to have only found my value in past (bad) relationships through the sex but there's so much involved with that and I get easily overwhelmed viewing myself as one giant mess lacking focus, strength, skills, feeling broken. It's not like I have reasons I can't tell BF either, he's absolutely the sweetest and incredibly understanding about me and has ALWAYS been there for me but it's like now that we're together I can't divulge since it's on a more personal level and to a certain extent I don't even know what's going on with me or how to deal with it myself. I have to remember that I am 1,000 times better than I have ever been and THAT is a blessing. Even though I despair, I am in fact, getting better. I am my own hero, and I have what it takes to ultimately save myself.

  3. I still feel like I can't trust my own judgement, it can be crippling at times, I feel stuck, unable to make even a simple decision for fear that I'll get it wrong and fear of the consequences if I do. I know now, logically, that it wasn't my actions or my choices that caused the assaults but sub-consciously I still fear making the wrong choice and worse still- letting myself and other people down with my wrong choices. I hate feeling like 'they' have such a big part in my life, my thought processes, my choices. 
    I'm very uncomfortable with anything even remotely linked to abuse, rape, etc. I avoid conversations, I avoid relationships and getting close to people in case they somehow see, somehow know what I'm hiding. I isolate myself even from people who might understand.
    I'm distracted because I can't stop obsesing about this. I just don't know how to deal with this. I feel trapped under his weight still, the weight of his (W) decision. 
    I'm scared because of threats I heard 15 Years Ago! I'm afraid on a daily basis that L will turn up in my life demanding what I owe him, what I promised, that he will finally follow through with his threat to rape me. I'm scared of shadows and things that go bump in the night in case it's him. And I'm so frustrated with myself for being so afraid, I should be over this, I bet he is. 
    I hate that I feel like I'm wasting time I should be spending on my current life, that I'm letting everyone down by not being over this. That I'm just using this as an excuse for being sh!t at life. I hate that this guilt and shame, that I can't seem to shift, even though I can logically see that it shouldn't be mine, makes me feel like I'm doing sh!t, when I can see that objectively I'm doing pretty well. I should be able to feel good about that. 

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    Came to this site because I guess I just need to find some safe place to outlet all of my feelings. Which I'm not even sure I know what all of these feelings are. I guess I mostly feel sad and alone. I met someone who seemed nice enough but turned out to be more aggressive than I was comfortable with. My friend warned me he wasn't a good person so I guess lately I've just been blaming myself for not hearing her out. For thinking he wasn't that bad. For not making an effort to stop him. I felt like dead weight. I felt like a prisoner for hours. I still feel like I'm trying to break out of this prison. What if no one understands? What if they blame me too? Its starting to weigh on me pretty heavily and I've begun to lash out at those who are only trying to help. But how can they help if they don't really understand the trauma? The pain? The disgust?

  4. a few years ago dillan, my alter thats kind of like my own personal therapist, asked what was stopping me from telling others about "it". so far these are the reasons that i can name off the top of my head (if theyre crossed out then theyve been taken care of):

    fear of being judged/made fun of/etc

    fear of losing close friends

    fear of making things awkward

    i was just trying to forget about it, so not talking about it would help me forget about it

    fear that i would dissociate in front of someone while talking about it

    feeling guilty when talking about it

    dillan has helped me kind of control when i dissociate and has also helped me learn that just keeping it to myself is not good and wont help me forget at all. we are still working on the other 4, so hopefully sometime soon i wont be afraid of those things anymore.

  5. so most people will say im crazy for even thinking or believing this but, ive died four my dreams. so i believe that when we dream we experience things outisde this world we live in with other souls. i believe this is why we can recognize someone in reality and not know where you saw them before. so, the first two dreams ive had was years ago but i remember them like it happened two minutes ago. i was standing up to this bully, some guy, and i remember being shot in the chest. i remember feeling the burning sensation, feeling my blood leave my body, feeling my life come to an end as my breathing slowed down. there was no white light, no flashbacks on my life, no moments of regret, no confessionals of undying love. just silence. a stillness, no voices in my head, just stillness. the third time i was in a stadium, the earth was coming to an end. im surrounded with hundreds of people trying to escape this tsunami but the stadium starts to fill with water anyway. there is this preacher trying to calm everyone, helping them ease into the death. my birth family is there (B, my aunt, uncle, cousin and her 3 kids) then everyone panics and tries to run again knowing there is no escape but try anyway. they try to convince me to leave but i stay as well as my uncle. we sit on the steps listening and watching people run as the water rises. then it reaches me and i feel myself holding my breathe then letting go. i feel the water enter my lungs, i feel it all over my body and in my ears, then i take on last deep breathe and stillness. i feel that my heart has stopped beating, i feel my body begin to float a little but its quiet, no voices, a calm settles over me. 

    after each dream i wake up slowly and feel at least for those few minutes a sense of peace i can never describe. its like a chance at being born again of something. im not a religious person by any means nor am i deeply spiritual but i do believe in living multiple lives and i feel like thats what ive experienced. i believe we die only to come back and try life again. most will probably chalk it up to heartburn while im sleeping or whatever but its indescribable the feeling of dying. i dont know when i will ever experience it again but, i will always remember those dreams. i will take from them every thing i will ever need to learn about life. 

  6. FeelingsAreHard
    Latest Entry

    I had another anxiety attack yesterday and this time everything is different. I feel different. All I wanted was for everything to end. No one understands me. No one understands how I feel or why I do the things that I do. and Some of the stuff I do means nothing to me because it just became the normal for my life but others try to read into it. Some peoples words cut me even when they don't realize what they're saying. I feel like something actually broke inside me.... I did something I have never done before and no one knows about that either. I just keep thinking how differently my life would have turned out if I didn't ask my parents to adopt me.... I would be homeless right now.. I would have no one or no where to go to. Sometimes I guess part of me wishes that I had never asked them to adopt me. it doesn't fix anything.. as much as I try to pretend to be normal it doesn't make them my real parents my bio parents left me or abused me and finding new parents doesn't just make all of that go away...... I wish I had realized that sooner Because then I could be out in the world all on my own right now and I would have ended it by now... It is like my give a f**k switch is flipped to the off position and I can't turn it back on... I just don't care about so much right now. But I'm so good at playing the part of the girl who is doing fine... no one even takes the time to stop me and make sure it's not all a lie... 

  7. I dont even know who this is but we are upset, pretty scared about being bounced around again to another shelter.

    Parts of us feel worthless because we are too much trouble for everyone. We cant find a place we belong. Its lonely. Its scary. For over a week now, we have been trying to find another place to go which supports mental health AND DV victims. They don't seem to exist. But thats what they (the ones at this shelter) have been telling us we need. 

    DID doc has us on a waiting list to see an Occupational Therapist for a hospital day program. Don't know how long that will take. Our child starts school on Monday, is facing ear surgery now, and will be starting transition male to female at the end of this month....and i don't know where we are going to be living. 

    Feeling scared. We don't even have a car to stay in. Shelter says they wont leave us homeless but i am still scared of that. Who wants to be rejected again? They say its not rejection, but we have told them so much personal stuff and have concluded they are not the right resource for us.

    No!! The right resource would be for us to be in our own home (FUCK community living - we hate it!!) continue therapy with DID doc, start the day program, have our kid back in school regularly, do our own chores when we want in our own home cleaning up our own messes, learning how to be social creatures again after being hurt again by someone we cared about, loved, and trusted. 

    We need to be ourselves without being afraid someone will think we come from the movie Split. Or Criminal Minds. We want our littles to self soothe the body and mind because the adults dont have a clue how to self soothe.

    Angela has been learning more about grounding. Preventative stuff. Like when newbie Xena comes out in public to make sure the body gets to where we need to go, Angela can prevent the need for that. Ok thats good. But in an anxiety attack or panic attack, we feel alone and scared and crazy and very sad.

    crap, we are totally all talking here, not one of us out long enough to state our names. Thats ok. This is a bunch of selves and how we feel.

    we are supposed to be putting into practice the positive self talk stuff. Tape over the negative stuff in our mind cassette tape with positive things from friends and counsellors and DID doc (he said he sees a pretty young woman across from him no matter who is out....okay, but PRETTY?? How to integrate THAT? Even Xena laughed hard at that remark. He was making a statement, not being weird or gross, and here Xena laughed because she said Angela has the ugliest face of us all.....the depression she wears is ugly and she cant hide it).

    i (whoever i is) dont know what else to say. We will be getting our answer in a little over an hour whether this shelter will let us stay til the end of the three months or if we find a home before that, but we do NOT want to go to another short term shelter again. Enough is enough!! 

    Dont wanna trust nobody again, all the nice people dont stay and all the mean people wanna stay an they stick close to us an we hate it. 

    We feel stupid n no good an like poop people get on the botom of there shoes. Nobody likes that. We feel like that anoying poop. 

    Bye from a lot of us

    we include some names from some we can remember who participated

    Alexa, Sarah, Darren, Angie, Violet, Amanda and others who didnt let us know they were here writing


  8. I thought once my mom went to therapy with me everything would get easier. She would be able to understand where I am coming from and how I feel. But honestly since she came in it has only gotten harder on me and not because of her. Now instead of constantly having anxiety and panic attacks due to my parents or drama going around in my family. Now I deal with having to face what happened to me and on top of that a whole other bunch of legal matters from a separate issue that made me worse. I feel like I went backwards, I feel hopeless, I feel alone. I just wish there was a way I could shut my feelings down completely. Not care what anyone says, thinks etc. I wish I didnt let situations in past, present and people affect my emotions so much. I wish I had more control over how I feel but instead I feel like I have no control over my own life yet alone my feelings. I pushed my friends away because I am too afraid to socialize and would much be more comfortable at home but yet I get depressed being home all the time. I get anxious over work and money etc. Yet I am too depressed to get anything ever done. I feel like I play a constant tug of war with myself on a daily basis. I recently started xanax and well its showed me that its not normal to feel the way I do and that I can feel normal. But my therapist says thats not an everyday medicine and if I need it everyday I need to go on something more permanent for the time being. But I have tried so many medicines that just make me feel like im essentially paralyzed. I just want to be myself, whoever I am and I just want to not feel the pain and sickness of anxiety and PTSD anymore. I hate that I cant relate to any of my friends or family. I hate that it kills me to talk to people because I feel at a loss for words. I hate that as much as I need you as a friend or family in my life I constantly push you away because your a trigger of my anxiety. It hurts me to even think that my family can be a trigger for me. That I cant sleep over their house because it makes me so anxious and I dont sleep at night and it kills me that even just going over there or seeing them makes me anxious of what are they going to say, what will they have planned to do. etc. Its like my mind cant ever shut off and it always brings me to the worst possible scenario. It sucks living like this and I just dont see a light at the end of the tunnel and it scares me to feel this way. I know I don't go on here as nearly as I should be and its nice to have you guys to talk to but its still lonely in my circle. 

  9. survivor07
    Latest Entry

    This is the truth I hold, It took a lifetime to unfold but only a moment to be locked away and never told. Now hear me speak, I'm done feeling weak. The story I have to tell is my living hell. Don't be so quick to assume I led myself to this doom, I do that enough. Sometimes its tough, people don't want to know, instead they say 'it was so long ago' aren't you over it yet? I heard that so much, so i pretended to be all set. I even believed some of my own lies, but the truth about pain is that it never really dies. It sits there like dead weight, making it hard to believe it started with a first date. The best part is when people tell me what they would've done or ask, 'why didn't you run?' All I can do is roll my eyes, their ignorance is no surprise. Who do these people think they are, none of them were there in my car.

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    TW. Use of explicit terms.

           October last year, I met a guy on a cliché online dating app. When we were texting, he sounded smart and engaging; back then – and probably still the same now – I often felt that boys my age were a bit stupid or simply could not have a serious, meaningful conversation about any subject, especially on the app where most of the users were looking for romance and potentially one-night-stands. So, when a week later, he asked me out to get a drink, and we ended up talking about macroeconomics policies and Harry Potter, I was impressed. On the second date, we kissed; on the third date, he asked if he could come home with me and I said yes.

           When we lied in our bed, I started to feel uncomfortable but I didn’t know what to act. He started touching me and eventually sticking his fingers inside of me, and during the whole process, all I wanted to do was to tell him that he should to wash his hands first. Strangely, I didn’t tell him to stop. I guess I was trying to be polite, or cool, or whatever; anyway, I let it happen.

           He kept kissing lightly around my ear and whispered, “what do you want?” or “you came, right?” I didn’t know what to answer but I wanted more than anything for this to be over, so I said “yes” to the second question. He stopped, smiling triumphantly, didn’t sense a single bit of my distress. Still smiling, he lied back on my pillow, nodded his head toward his penis.

           I didn’t understand what he was doing at first, so he pointed using his hand instead. Maybe after I did this, he would be gone and we wouldn’t even need to have a confrontation. Making myself believe that, I tried to wrap my hand around his penis, and he stopped me. “Why don’t you try with your mouth?” he suggested. I immediately said no. He looked at me, repeated his request slowly, as if I was an idiot and the only reason I said no was that I didn’t understand him. I said, “but I don’t want to.” He didn’t move, his hands crossed behind his head and he was lying on my pillow. He said, “come on, try it.”

           "I want you to try it" He insisted again. 

           I could have asked him to leave; hell I could have left myself, even if that was my room, I could have just gone to the lobby, but I did none of those. I stared at him, and then at his body. I remembered how much I wanted this to be over, and the next thing I knew was that I started blowing him, with his hand loosely pressing my head even closer to him.

           He had put on a condom earlier and removed it before requesting me to blow him. During that 3 minutes, or 5 minutes, or 7 minutes and 35 seconds – I couldn’t remember except for I felt it was long – all I could smell was the rubber. And I can still smell it right now, 4 months later, sometimes during late night when I lie in my bed and cannot sleep for the entire night.

         He later tried to enter me but couldn’t because my body was in such defense. Even then, he didn’t realize how uncomfortable I was. And me? All I could remember was the smell of that rubber, while lying there, let him grab my body before he gave up.

           Starting from last October, I’ve been having trouble sleeping. Initially it was just 1 day every week that I couldn’t sleep at all. Then a month ago, I started having continuous sleepless nights that I couldn’t function normally during the day. My parents and friends kept asking me what was going on, and all I could push myself to say was “nothing really, I guess I’m just stressed at work”, which was true to some degree – whenever I couldn’t sleep, I worried that I couldn’t perform well at work the next day.

           One day, I suddenly realized that the moment when he said, “I wanted you to try it”, when he lied on my pillow, looking triumph and relaxed – that was the moment I kept replaying in my head. In my imagination, I didn’t silently follow his order but got out of bed and asked him to leave. I imagined him arguing back, and I lashed out how uncomfortable I was feeling the entire time we were in bed, how consent should be continuous, how he should have stopped when I first said no.

           I kept replaying it in my head, again and again, fantasizing how I could have done it differently so I wouldn’t feel like shit, so I would be able to fall asleep at night. But the other party of this major dramatic play was, and still remains, completely unaware of what actually happened. He would never know about my sleepless nights, the hauntingly disgusting smell of rubber, and how I would get nervous when someone looked even remotely like him walked pass me.

           What I regret the most, apart from letting this happen, is that I never said anything to him. I should have told him this is not the proper way to treat a sexual partner, and that I felt violated. But again, I did none of those – even before he left my apartment, he asked me, with a smug smile, “has anyone else made you come like that before?” The truth is, as much as I believe that it was not my fault deep down, I kept thinking how this was avoidable. I could have been tougher, more straightforward, I told myself. Hell I had so many "consent before sex", "no means no" and later "yes means yes" trainings in college, I should know better.

           I wanted to tell someone, but I fear that people would either judge me or not take me seriously. I tried to talk about it with my friend, but half way through she followed, “well I also had tons of bad sex experiences, one time…” I don’t know what to say.

           I’m writing and posting this because I have been on anti-anxiety medication for 2 weeks and although I could sleep now I felt drowsy and tired all the time. I want this to be resolved but just don’t know where to start, but I can’t be on the medication on long-term and I really miss being focused and cheerful during the day. I just want this to be over.

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    TW..... Last Tuesday I had a doctor appointment and had an episode, i rocked in my chair and tried to not cry, I sat there just looking at the examining table, seeing little Theresa, me at age six and I am red down there and my dad is glaring at me and the doctor is telling me how to wipe and i am humiliated, we go home and dad tells my mom what the doctor said and she flies into a rage and makes me wipe in front of her and dad until i bleed, then makes me go to bed, the next morning she tells me if i want to be a retard i can go to an institution where people will crap their pants in front of me and play with themselves, then i went to school as if nothing happened. These images haunted me until my appointment when i told my t about the doctor appointment and was about to tell her about my memory when theresa told her about my self harm and she was tired of fighting the memories and felt broken, so my t went and got the director and soon his husband was driving me for an assessment and now i am in outpatient, feel like i am too much to heal, feel like no therapist is ever going to be prepared to treat me, feel like there is no hope of me to heal because i let theresa meet my t, teleah

  10. I remember cutting my veins and tried to cut as deep as possible but because i could not keep it wet. the bleeding stopped. i tried several times same vein now scarred i hide it with a watch. lately i've not been sleeping stayin up watching movies with gore and blood. and i imagine i could do those things, pull out his spine, cut him up in half, poison my mother then insert needles in her eyes. 

    i remember when i was eleven after folding laundry of the family, i went into the kitchen. mom and sister were talking. i said something. sister told me off. i was hurt because she was a bully, an abuser and a manipulator, still is. i took her t-shirt  from the laundry pile-it was her favorite t-shirt, i cut it up and then poured coke all over it. i managed to throw it away. 

    she never even noticed it was gone...

    back to present day, found out a school mate died of a heart attack today. he was in his early 40s. never liked the guy. but still i felt empathy for his wife and 3 kids. 

    lucky guy, death knocked on his door  and i hope he is in a good place now. i've been praying for death since i was 5 years old. 

    I nearly drowned once and i remember when the waves took me under i smiled. but was rudely interrupted. my mun managed to pull me out of the water by my long black hair.

    my childhood lost my life robbed facing the possibilty of losing our home jobless and with a shitty CV i prayed and i sought help yet still, i am looking for work.

    had to leave my last job because of sexual harassments and my boss wasnt supportive of me but supportive of the assailant.  She is partially responsible for the incidences having empowering the guy allowing him to be rude and lacking professionalism. not the first job i had to leave due to harrassment and bullying. 

    what life is this? blood gore and death seems alot better then the slow torturous death of the unknown. living 15 minutes at a time....

  11. So many times while i was living at home and I would get less than a B in a class my parents paid the tuition for, I would feel so awful. Because I keep wasting their tuition money. Because it's so stressful for them thinking about my future. Because my mother "turned down a job offer for you." They would never listen to me about my anxiety or adhd and would accuse me of making excuses. So many times I thought to myself "I'm a selfish, lazy piece of shit and I should just kill myself so my parents don't have to deal with my bullshit."

  12. I have been planning for quite sometime on writing a book.  Well I have been thinking about intensely for years.   Yet I finally started working on it yesterday.  It feels like the time is right.  This feels like what I am supposed to be doing right now.  It is so hard to believe but the story, my story is finally coming together.  I am facing with without the fear of previous attempts.  I am facing it without the fear of backlash.   I am facing it for the giant it is in my life.  I am slaying it for the hell it has given me.   I look at the pain I have been in for so long.  I look at it, with it's shattered mirror shards jutting out.  It looks so frightening and yet almost pitifully suffering.  It needs to be dealt with and it needs to be treated.   I have thought of counseling and I may look into that at some point again.  Bad experiences with counselors in the past has caused me to look at that subject a bit warily.  Yet, even now as I look at other ways of healing certain wounds, I am look the task before me.  Putting those words into print, so that the world can know.  So that I will have my voice.  So I can help others speak.  I must be able to speak and to tell what happened to me.  I must no longer keep silent.  As keeping silent keeps the pain going.  It's like an infection, festering, blistering...growing until I feel nothing at all. I look forward to the day when my stories are purely fictional and my hero is able to win the fight.  I will get there, but I have to tell the truth first.   I have to tell the truth of those horrible years.  I have to put a voice to that silence that has encased me like a tomb, gnawing at me like squirrel with a cracker.   I have to speak the truth, perhaps not in love this time but speak it none the less.  May this lancing and surgery be what I need to heal.  I won't quit and I won't back down.   Its time to take flight.  They don't get to win.  I don't have to keep the secret anymore.  Even in knowing this, it feels like I am returning to an old flame.  An old love with a renewed love of the art.  Here's hoping I don't lose sight of the goal.  

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    Being born female is a privilege because I can do something a man cannot. Give birth and be a Mom. 


    But I often think the privilege ends there.  I am an outspoken, intelligent woman.  I believe I can do just about anything a man can do. 


    But most men do not see me/women this way.  To most men, I/we are breasts and a vagina.  Maybe ass and legs.  To most men, I/we are not as strong, physically or mentally, intelligent, dedicated, or important as they are.  We are classified by are looks. Thin, fat, tall, short, big/small chested, pretty/plain/ugly.


    When I was young, I wanted to study law and music.  My parents told me to take typing. 


    I was sexually harassed in every job I held through my life. 


    I was degraded/assaulted in relationships.  


    I have allowed myself to be defined by others opinions of me all my life. 


    I lacked something as a child….attention/love…not sure what…I know I was ostrasized as a child in school.  I remember tiny little snippets of being told I smelled bad, was ugly…..neglect maybe….my mother had her issues.  I have a gut feeling there was sexual assault in my earliest years.  I have no distinct memory of it, but it fits….wetting the bed and my pants during grade school.  Poor hygiene.  Poor self esteem.  Avoiding people as a whole.  Depression.  Freak. Outcast.


    I became sexually “loose” as I got older.  Always “safe” but never loved.  Guess I confused sex with love.  Didn’t realize at the time men never make that mistake.  Most men will have sex with any woman.  I was never “horny”.  I was love starved.


    I suffer from depression, Low self esteem and more recently, anxiety. I think I always had a level of depression, probably genetic.  Would have been able to keep in low key if it weren’t for several experiences in my life…I have always called them the “assaults”. 

    The actual word is rape. 

    First one was my 22nd birthday.  I was working at a retail department store.  I and the crowd I ran with were mostly the “elite”…we worked in the management/administrative side of the business.  All about the same age.  Party age.  We thought we were so cool…dressed in business suits, dresses & high heels, going out and getting hammered a couple times a week.  We didn’t “just” drink, we did parties and dinners and sports…but the alcohol was always there.

    So this particular year, my birthday fell on Holy Thursday, also payday.  I was able to talk my boss into having the weekend off…Friday/Saturday/Sunday.   We got to our usual establishment about 9 (we worked late that day).  Being my birthday, I was getting shots from every direction…mostly tequila.  Having a great time, until about midnight when I ended up on the bathroom floor with the waste basket between my knees.

    I lived about a mile or so from the bar, but was no way able to get behind the wheel…so “Joe” tells everyone he will take me home.  No big deal…we had know each other for long enough that sober I would have trusted him.  I remember he drove a tiny car, stick shift, and the passenger door wouldn’t open (these jobs did not pay very much, and we all lived the high life, so we all drove junk).  I had to climb over the stick shift to get in the passenger seat, wearing a mini skirt…that would have been tough sober. Drunk…well, you can imagine... 

    So we turn up the hill toward my house. I think he asked me where the little league field was from there – he used to play there when he was younger….I told him a block up and several blocks left.  I had my eyes closed through the ride….when the car stops, I open them and see we are at the ball field?? “Come on, I want to show you something”…”no, I want to go home I don’t feel well” “come on the air will do you good”….ok, out I climb.  I get out to the dugout where he was standing…next thing I remember, I am on my back, my skirt is hiked up around my waist and he is on top of me.  Must have blacked out again, and he is sitting on my chest trying to get me perform oral sex on him….next memory he is pulling down my skirt, trying to get me to sit up. I get up, stumble out of my shoes, and start walking, barefoot, in the direction of my house.  I feel disgusting, dirty; I have burrs and leaves in my hair.  He grabs me and forces my back into the car…and drives my home.  I get out of the car and say to him “Why me? There were several women there who would have willing jumped you (I name several)….why did you …”  “they’re dogs, would need to put a bag over their heads first” “Happy Birthday”…and he drives away. I shower until all the hot water is gone….climb into bed and think I stayed there for the better part of three days, sleeping.

    Work on Monday.  Getting serious snickers as I walk to my office.  “JOE’s girlfriend is here!” is the first greeting I get.  WHAT? Lots more snickering…He walks in, smiles and nods, and walks out. I am shaking. Disappear into the restroom for an hour, till someone comes to check on me.  I tell her the extremely edited version of what happened.  He, on the other hand, told everyone about his big score.  I quit in less than a month.

    Second experience.  “Ben”.  Met him at a bar my one girlfriend and I liked.  He hit on my girlfriend, asked for her number.  He called her a few times, but she had started seeing someone and blew him off.  Lucky her. 

    I ran into him with another group of friends a few weeks later…He was all over me.  I was very attracted to him, went outside and “made out” with him…he called me the next night to go out. 

    He was sweet, asked a lot of questions about me. After a few dates he got angry about something, can’t remember exactly what, took me outside and slapped me.  I was in shock!  He took me home, called the next day apologizing profusely and brought me roses. 

    That night he asked me a favor….he came up short and couldn’t pay his phone bill….could I help??  Of course.  Next month it was gas money, etc. etc.….then he has an accident and broke his leg.  Not able to work.  Now I am funding our relationship.  And he expects to go out every night of the week. And he is drinking, heavily. His car is a manual, so he cannot drive it with a broken leg, so when we go out, he is driving my car.  It is nothing for him to get angry and push my head off the dashboard or the car window.  One night we pulled up at a traffic light behind a police car….he says “go ahead, try and signal the cop, try and jump, I will floor the gas and ram this car right up his ass.”  Yes, he would have done it, I am sure.  This went on for months, every night him forcing me to have sex with him before I left. 

    I tried breaking up with him, but he threatened to burn my house down, get me fired from my job, follow me and hurt me. 

    I started to not answer his calls when I could…after about a week he calls, very late, and tells me if I don’t meet him at a certain bar by midnight, he will burn my house down.  I meet him…we sit at the end of a practically deserted bar, while he calls me every foul name he can think of.  The other people at the bar can hear…no one says a word.  Finally he tells me to drive to a field across town.  He will follow me, and if I do anything but drive directly to this place, he will ram my car and kill me.

    He gets out of his car, gets into mine with a gun.  Puts the gun on the floor of the car and tells me I will have sex with him, here, now. I try to open the car door and he slams me against the door and the dash and says that was my one and only warning…

    After he is finished, he gets out of the car, says if you tell anyone, I will have an alibi and no one will believe you. He leaves….after he pulls away; I vomit several times….drive to the nearest pay phone and call him. Again, “I have the best alibi and you will look like a psycho”.  A police car show up…alarms at the convenient by the pay phone  are going off….police start questioning me…I am a mess, crying, shaking, bruised…cop finally says “oh you had a lovers spat, go home, it will be all better in the morning”.


    Coworker again.  “Dan” He flirted. I liked the attention. Thought we were friends. I am married at this point, but saw no harm in a male friend. We hung out; double date (his wife, my husband).  I find out he is allowing people to think more is going on.  I think it’s funny and let it go, at first.  Then I start getting worried. I am married; this could get back to my family.  So I confront him. He is angry I am angry, he is in my face yelling, I push him away, he pushes back, harder. Something changed…I got scared, fast; he grabs me from behind, holds me against my car and starts pulling off my shorts.  I really don’t remember too much after that….Got dressed, went home, showered, made dinner and went on like nothing happened.

    But I still had to work with him.  He has since received a huge promotion and a transfer…I am still in the same position and building.

    Boss figured something was up…asked, and in a moment of weakness I told him, but with the idea he would not repeat it He felt it was necessary to “go up the chain”…after several meetings and discussions, I end up in a conference room with a VIP, telling me if I don’t write a retraction, saying what I had said was all a misunderstanding and it never happened, my life would be ruined.  No, I could not leave the room and think about it. No I could not call the union or a lawyer. Now or ever. My husband didn’t even know what had happened at this point.  My marriage, my career, my son??  I wrote the lies they wanted, even dictated to me, and I signed it.

    I started what was essentially a breakdown.  Don’t want to detail that, but I did end up in the hospital on several occasions. Been on medication ever since.

    There are other incidents…sexual harassment, assault….seems to be a pattern in my life.

    Low self esteem I know plays a huge part.  Why I tolerate these behaviors. 

    Plus the constant reminder that people do not want to believe these things have happened.  I told my mother after #2…My own mother made the statement about “….you’re SUPPOSED rape.”

    Fired from a job after reporting harassment, yet the perpetrator was not.

    No convictions.  First two men did jail time for other crimes they committed after my assaults.

    First one had the nerve recently to “friend” me on Facebook.  No, I didn’t accept…I deleted the request....and My Facebook....

  13. teaandcoffee
    Latest Entry

    Content warning: Sex




    I was talking with a guy, and he told me about how he and his ex were able to have simultaneous orgasms. He smiled as he told me how he could feel her body shake, and her legs tense up as she reached climax.

    Another friend, telling me how his ex had been amazing at pleasuring him, and she had loved sex. "The best sex I ever had" he sighed. 

    My guy friends often talk to me about their sexual experiences.

    And each time I get told about how good a girl is in bed, I break a little inside.

    I can never be that.

    No matter how much I love and respect a guy, I will never not be broken. Maybe I will be mended, but I will never be new and undamaged again.

    How can I love a guy, when I cannot match the standard he is used to?


  14. cantstoprunning75
    Latest Entry

    I remember in the summer of 2014 Ray Rice of the Baltimore Ravens was suspended for 2 games by the NFL for domestic violence. He said all the right stuff. I'm sorry, I'm in counseling, she has forgiven me, blah, blah blah. In the fall while he was serving his suspension a video came out of the actual incident. The video was of the 2 of them inside an elevator and they were arguing. He got so upset he punched her in the face and knocked her out cold. One punch. All of a sudden everybody is in an uproar. The league suspended him indefinitely and the Ravens fired him. Nothing happened in the video that wasn't described when he was originally suspended in the summer. The only difference was people could see it and not read it. I wonder what people thought when they read the original article? I wonder what people thought a guy knocking his girlfriend out looked like? Could they not imagine what knocking someone out in an elevator looked like? Was it not that serious because they didn't have to see it. I guess a picture does tell a 1000 words. I wish there was a video of an 8 year old boy in a room alone with a grown man. The grown man kissing the boy and taking his pants off. Making the boy touch his di*k and put it in his mouth. Then take the boys underwear off and do worse. Then I could just show it to them (they would have to watch it 4 times) and not have to try to figure out a way to tell people. I was molested doesn't seem to convey what happened to me. I think its only fair that people should have to watch the movie. I was forced to watch it 4 times when I was 8 years old.

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    I haven't been on in a while, with the holidays and what not, but I'm glad to be on again writing and venting. It was my 21st birthday a few days ago and I was scared to go out and let loose. My friend dragged me out though and I'm glad she did! I can't keep living in fear of what could happen. Not every guy is a bad one, I know that. Sometimes it can just be hard to remember that though when a stranger tries to get you to go home with them. My nightmares stopped for a few days, but they have returned, and so has my inability to sleep. Being sick keeps me up at night, but so do the dreams.... I hope it gets better soon.

  15. Ljay

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    I'm so nervous about coming on here, seeing it all in black & white. Can't believe it's still buried so deep after all these years. From age 9 to 16 I was sexually abused & raped by my brother, can't believe I've just wrote that. I've had a problem with drink, tried suicide twice, but with all that behind me, I thought I was coming to terms with it all, seems not.

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    Welcome 2017! 

    Hasn't 2016 been one of the worst years that the world has witnessed. Unfortunate deaths, brexit and the new president being a business man with immoral views...
    Well I am blogging to discuss 2016 nor too much of 2017 (yet!), I want to discuss the issues I experienced in 2015 which unfortunately carried over into 2016. 
    In 2015, I was sexually assaulted, something no one likes to discuss or admit. The man was in a profession of trust and took advantage of me while I was the age of 20. I was scared, frightened and completely afraid, to say the least. I knew it was wrong, I couldn't do anything while he was doing what he wanted to do, so I closed my eyes and waited for him to finish. There was not much I could do while the door was shut and locked! No one was in the place, so my screams would not be heard, and if I did scream what would he have done? Hit me? Rape me? Kill me? I could not take that risk. 
    Once he finished, he smiled - what a slimy and pathetic excuse of a man! He is a married man with children! What must his children be like, if they are raised by a man like him?! I ran out of the clinic. I drove home and showered. I hated my skin, my body and my thoughts. I cried (something I do not do much - so I knew I was upset). I was disgusted! How could I tell my parents? What would my friends think? Should I report this? 
    All these questions went through my head over and over and over again. I went to work - maybe that would take my mind off things. It didn't. Every male which approached me, I was too scared to talk. I became speechless towards customers, I could not keep this up. 
    Before leaving work early, I contacted my mother. We are close and she knows me more than I know myself. I told her I had been sexually assaulted. She was disgusted in the man who had done this. She advised me reporting it to the police and to get home as soon as possible. 
    So I reported it to the police - well my relative made the first phone call. The police arrived at the house and asked a million questions - well enough for me to believe it was 1 million. Three hours after talking about the horrible situation, I was allowed to stop and just go to bed. The last question the police asked was whether or not I would want to take this matter to court, I agreed. My mother reminds me that I looked grey in colour, there was no colour in my face and she could see I was upset.
    After days of being all over the place - figure of speech. I was in regular contact with the police. They seems to believe me. Anyone who has been sexually assaulted will understand that the first thing anyone tries to prove, is their innocence. What a life? Prove innocence? It is your life story, therefore surely you are telling the truth? Who would lie about sexual assault? 
    Fast forward a few weeks/months, I was completing my final year at University. My degree in science, my love for the subject. How was I to do well? Was I to pass? What if I do not pass? Then what? 
    I revised my arse off! I had to! I was my distraction. I did not think of that man, that clinic, that "experience" when my heads were in my revision notes and books. 
    Exams were hard, but I got through them. One of my final exams was one of the easiest exams I have ever done! Why you ask? Because every question I knew the answer to, beauty of revision! 
    i graduated with a First Class degree, congratulations to me! How you ask?! I do not know either. During my ceremony, I was contacted by the CPS/Police telling me the day of the court case. Why? Why on my graduation? They knew it was my graduation! I snapped on the phone stating that the one day I didn't want to be contacted was the day of my graduation, and surprise surprise, when do they contact?!!
    Fast forward to court case. Lets bullet point this... 
    - THE
    - WORST
    - DAY
    - OF 
    - MY
    - LIFE.
    I hated it. The barristers were horrible. I could not face that disgusting excuse of a human being. I was hidden behind a screen. I tried my best to get through all the questions. The barrister made out I was a liar, a w**re, a cheapskate, a student who just wanted a good result. You get the point...
    Verdict: NOT GUILTY. 
    The worst feeling in the world on that day. I was a wreck. I had a river of tears throughout the phone calls from both police and CPS. Why was he found not guilty? Was it because of my age? Was it because I applied for extenuating circumstances to act as a "safety net" in case I did not do too well? Was it because I was did not cry on the stand? 
    Do you notice, all the thoughts are because of ME. Not because he played the "court case" like a game. He got two witnesses to lie under oath. Oh, how the one witness makes my blood boil. 
    The witness was a colleague of his. She and I had spoken two weeks before the assault. She was from South Asia, and me being an Indian girl born in the UK, she felt the need to ask me questions. What questions you ask? 
    - "Are you born in the UK?" Common question every asian asks! Yes bit*h of course I am, hence why I do not have an accent and can hold a conversation with people using more than 10 words! "Yes I am".
    - "Are you married?" Another question that every asian will ask. "No I am not." you stupid bit*h, I am 20 years of age, why would I want to get married off, just because you did!
    - "Oh you must not have any children then?!" Well done you moron, because our culture believes in sex after marriage and having children once married, you put your two brain cells together to assume I do not have any children. "No I do not have any children".
    However, in court, she claimed I asked her all these questions but about the man in questioning. What a compulsive liar, idiotic bit*h, pathetic excuse of a woman. How could she? How much must he have paid her? £1k? £5k? She is cheap, probably just £100. 
    I went into depression. I hated myself. I hated what I had experienced. I hated that the person whom was the most disgraceful person I had ever encountered would still be able to practice. Would he do the same again? Would he think twice before doing anything? I doubt he would think before re-assaulting. Of course he would. Not everyone will speak up. 
    He has a type. A quiet, Asian girl. Asians do not disclose these things. We do not talk about sex, rape, assault... Why would we? It makes the victim look like a w**re. It makes the victim look easy! It makes the victim feel that no one would want her. 
    He is a grown man, with a "attractive" wife (I never saw her at court, so I cannot possibly comment), and two children (I think that is what the court said?). He is scum, a bastard, a waste of human air! It should be him that people bit*h about, not the victim. 
    I am not afraid of him, he knows that one more person he assaults will send him to prison. 
    I follow the Facebook page of the clinic from time to time, and I notice that there is a new manager in charge. She has a doctorate. he did not. She will potentially stop him from doing such things. maybe she fired him? Who knows and who cares!?!
    I want to address this blog to all those who have suffered in silence. 
    You are a strong individual. You will be confident and a bright future. This experience will not own you, it will not define you. you define yourself. 
    And if ever, you did a helping hand, know that there is help out there. 
    COUNSELLING. The best thing I ever did and continue to do. 
    It helps me! 
    And remember, KARMA is a wonderful thing :)
    Do not let a year/experience/person define you! I had a few knock backs in 2015 and 2016 and I am still doing what I love, science.  
    Let 2017 be your year! 
    And Karma, please work of that horrible, horrible scumbag who thinks he is superior because he paid £10,000 a day for a barrister to help him "win" his case. 

    All the best in the new year 

  16. Today I worked up the courage to tell my therapist about my harassment and after I told her my story she told me it was actually assault. I always knew it was assault but someone telling me that it was assault made it real again. It triggered me and I went to my boyfriends home and cried into his arms. I got better after he told that I was not a w**re or a sl*t and that what happened was not my fault. He really is the best at making my bad days better. I wish there was a medicine that could just make the memories, flashbacks, and trauma all just go away. I want to stop the flashback and mentally I have been getting better thanks to my boyfriend but there is still that piece that is left unsolved. My therapist is  not EMDR certified so we are going to try different types of therapy and coping skills for when I have bad day like today. I hope it doesnt get too draining on me and I wont be this upset every week after therapy. Why does he get to live his life freely..Why does my assaulter get to walk around without any memory of me and know how much he hurt me and how much damage he has done to me. Why did he do what he did after I said no and stop... in what world does yes mean no and stop means please continue touching me because that type of world I dont want to live with. I am still having a bad day and I had to leave my boyfriends house. I want to just fall apart sometimes but I know I cant let what happens ruin my life.... If anyone has ever listened or not listened to the Lady Gaga song "till it happens to you" or whatever the title is you should it is about her being sexually assulted and how no one really knows how it feels till it happens to them. Which I think is true no one really knows the flashbacks or the feeling of not being touched by a loved ones, If anyone has anything insperational or anything that may help me learn to cope right now I would appreciate it. Have a good night the people of after silence


    Also I was thinking about getting a loutus flower tatooed to my ankle that way I will always know that I am in recovery and that what happens to me doesnt define me. What do you guys think about that?

  17. avi

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    how does one tackle a situation where the ones who committed the crime come home to dinner with the family , u can't accuse or prove what they did to u . but u have to bear to watch them have smug smiles on their faces, they got away with what they did and are living a happy full life while u are left to collect your own pieces . when u see your own brother who violated you ,hug u  and u have to be his sister .Night after night the same nightmares . the same look on my moms face and her telling me that when she dies she doesn't want me to be there to say the final goodbye ,cause she doesn't care about me . refuses advice or support .i wake up with a wave of panic ,with no clue who to talk to . for some this is a pity party .

  18. 25…75…200…300…600mg blurring prescriptions blurring numbers blurring faces. Recovery, burial, mind churning epiphany. I miss her, a piece of me that has died. I look in the mirror naked and wonder how people don’t know. I imagine peeling skin falling like feathers to the carpet, unveiling the damage underneath. Everyone dies, but a piece of me has left before its time. I stare at my breasts, average in size. My thin waist and large hips, jutting out drastically like sail boats on a dock. I'm small, only five foot one, trusting, easy laugh, easy target. Twice. It has happened twice. Between my legs, a place that was so foreign to me until my late teens, was so desirable to others. As was my mouth.

    I find it hard to touch my body with desire. I find it unbearable to have a man touch me. I have nightmares, flashbacks. Haunted by the multiple men who have hurt me and the girl that I was. I’m nineteen and every sexual partner I have had has resulted in some sort of un-consensual act. What does that say about me? None of these boys had any unusual behavior, any way of knowing. I’ve always been a good girl, good student, loving daughter. Why me? What did I do in a past life? How can I let someone love me when I can't love myself.