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    I am as angry as hell. Claire stole my Dartmoor walking and this is totally unacceptable and in forgivable. Claire had no business forcing her way past my mother and into my spare bedroom where I was minding my own business. Just because Claire is bi-polar and gets 'high' she has no business taking it out on me. I demand a re-trial! It just forced it's way into my bedroom to verbally abuse me to try and make itself feel better ruining my Dartmoor walking and then buggered off again. No thought for anyone else what so ever! It did it again on the morning of 16th December 1998 the day of my 23rd birthday. I was set up in Selina car to be verbally abused by Claire ruining my home life and subjecting me to nearly 20 years of mental torment and torture.

    Do I sound a bit petty and mental? Claire is petty and mental! Give me back my Dartmoor walking!  

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    I have few memories of the year I was abused. So bear with me as I share my story in pieces.. as I begin to remember.

    It was summer again. He's driving me home. I start saying that things aren't working out between us. I'm terrified of his reaction. He turns away from my house and starts driving in the other direction, and once we are far away, he stops. He locks the doors. He won't let me out. I'm panicking. I tell him I can't do this anymore, I'm crying from fear and he looks so angry. He refuses to let me leave him, he won't allow it. He's done this before. This time, I slowly take hold of my backpack. As quick as I can manage, I manually unlock my door and run out as fast as I can. Not fast enough. He's out of the car now, screaming for me to come back, and he grabs my arm hard. He tells me again that I can't leave him. Something overtakes my body, and I scream at him to let me go. I don't know where this strength came from, or who I am in this moment, and clearly neither does he. He looks at me wide eyed. I've never stood up to him like this, he doesn't know how to react. I turn around and run, turn back and he isn't following me. I run and run, but I know this is not the end. It was not.

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    Hi. My name is Marta. A few weeks ago my life has changed. I hope that not forever. I was raped by my friend. After that incident, I wanted to end my life. I was ashamed and afraid to look at myself in the mirror. I didn’t sleep 3 consecutive nights. And only a psychologist - friend of my cousin have found a right decision. This man believes in me and the most importantly, thanks to him, I also started to believe in myself and in my future. He convinced me to talk about pain and fears. I am sure I’ll feel better when I can tell you about all that happened to me. Thanks to the support I get now, I’m ready to do this step. I’m not ready yet to name the rapist, so in my story I’ll call him Jack.

    March 25, about 7 p.m. I got a call from a friend who lives in Bedford and with whom I have not seen for a long time. We became acquainted with him about 2 years ago. He invited me for coffee, we were walking and talking about nothing. He was telling me different things, a lot of jokes. He told me about his romances at a veterinary clinic. At the same time he was trying to be a gentleman. From that moment we met no more than 5 times.

    Jack is much older than me. He seemed to me a strong and intelligent person. However, on March 25, 2017 something happened with him. That evening I was going  to Irving. Jack called me and when he found out that I was going to Irving, he offered to let me down by car. Of course I agreed. Why not?

    The first 15 minutes we were talking and joking. All was good. But then he suddenly decided to move out of the highway on the road where cars hardly drove. But even then I was suspected nothing. I was afraid when he stopped the car and locked the door. He took out a knife and told me to not twitch otherwise i’ll regret. He tried to stick his hand under my clothes. I didn’t let to do it and told him to stop. But he didn’t hear me. In front of me there was another person. At that moment I saw the real beast. Jack opened the door and pulled me out of the car. Pressed me to the hood and threatening with a knife, he raped me. This is an extremely difficult and painful to remember all details of that night. But I can’t keep silent. It’s even more painful to me. When he was over, he said that he will kill me if I’ll go to the police. It’s been over two weeks. Thanks to all the experts consultants. I became much more easier. Today, I realize that the silent is a wrong decision. I don’t want to live in fear.

  1. SociallyAwkward
    Latest Entry

    1:32PM: Friday and Saturday literally went the same exact way. Mom and her husband arguing in the morning over money problems. Then we left to go hang out with our gaming buddy.

     
    Easter Sunday.... Could have been better. No arguing or fighting which was nice, but the night before my poor little sister saw one of her friends get murdered. The victim was a good guy. Of course it's never the scumbags that die. Always the innocent bystander. I don't care to talk about it much. All I can say is he was a good kid that never did anything wrong and didn't deserve this. Last night she was out with her friends who are all in mourning right now. Two people who weren't even there were talking about it a bit too much and it pissed her off. She needed someone to talk to when she came home. That person became me. She's at a vigil right now. She might need someone again tonight.
     
    It's Monday. My brother has the day off. We are just hanging out at the house right now. This morning has been tame. Sleep has been terrible this whole weekend. And I'm pretty sure I need to go back to the doctor. It's so weird that today was a normal day for me but meanwhile my sister is mourning the loss of her friend.
  2. moments like today and previous days re-enforce the feeling that i will be alone. im without my foundation, have been for over two months now. nothing i say or do seems to work at getting her back. i secretly cry but pretend to her face im okay. its hard, very hard, knowing im the reason she doesnt want to be with me. ive been fighting since i was a toddler for love and when ive finally found it, i figured i was safe. but every day ive always had this feeling she would leave. i know im a f up, i know that. ive been trying so hard to be better and she told me if i try she would always be there. yet she cant even sleep next to me at night. i know im not the person she wants to be with, shes told me her ideal woman. me and my problems dont fit the bill. im too much with my past. i guess all that questioning of am i capable of love, well i got my answer. my heart has been breaking for months. but im very good at burying my feelings. im very good at shutting down. i dont know where to go anymore. no friends, no family. she is literally all i have left. just so lost, so tired of pain. why cant anyone love me? what the hell is so wrong with me? i dont have anyone to turn to for comfort. every so called friend, every so called family member is too involved in their own lives to be there for me, not like ive been for them. i got no car, no license, no job, nothing. where can i go? who can i talk to? who will comfort me when the only person i have has pulled away? please, i just want the pain to stop. i just want to be happy.

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    This is my first blog posting this website, and i'll start by saying I've never really been able to come to terms with what has happened to me, no matter how long ago it was. It was almost two years ago in the summer of 2015. It's crazy that I don't even know where to begin because I was in such a tangled mess; lots of alcoholism at home and parents losing good jobs due to unlucky situations. I want to make it clear that I had a great childhood, great friends, and I've gone to a private school all my life. But that's the scary thing; these people who don't care whether you can defend yourself or not lurk behind upstanding morals and "hardworking ethics." One summer night after a long road of just being with the same horrible person, I had made the choice to drink until I couldn't be bothered with my emotions. The alcohol (vodka) made me happy, dance, wild, and less angry (or so I thought.) I can't even remember how much I drank. I can't even remember if I drank with a chaser or not. I arrived to the party in a hotel and at this point even thinking about anything further makes me anxious. Long story short, I was grabbed by the first love of my life after six months of just sex, losing my virginity, I was done. But that's besides the point, reader. I was soon taken into the master bedroom which was guarded by his instructed fellow football players and locked from the inside. There, they took turns with me...hurt me...bit me... just so horrible. Then I walked out of the room with my friends crying screaming because they just knew I was in trouble. Shortly after, another guy pulled me into the room, did the same thing, and had his friends come in and film it. I don't remember anything, all I know is that the moment that happened, this turned into a child pornography case. 

  3. We English don't talk about Sex.  We're known for it.  I've only ever talked about it at length with two people:
    • V - The girl I fell in love with at 17
    • C - The old man who subsequently abused both me and V
     
    So it's hard for me as an English man and a survivor to even type the word without getting nervous.  But it is a subject that is inevitably going to be difficult for many survivors.  There will be many different reasons for it to be difficult.
     
    In my last two therapy sessions I've tried to talk about it, about the fears I have being in a sexually active relationship again.  In the first session it didn't do so well.  Sitting on a sofa with someone telling me "it's normal to feel these things" just reminded me too much of being 17, sitting on a sofa, and an old man telling me "it's normal to feel these things".  Nothing my therapist could do to tell me "this is a safe environment" could stop the alarm bells ringing.  Anything she did to make me feel more calm just made my subconscious scream louder that I was being manipulated.
     
    But I do want to talk about it.  I want to express why it scares me so much and how I have begun to resolve that problem.  I had some more success in my last session. 
     
    In talking about it I found I want to be adventurous with my girlfriend (as she has asked to be).  But I want to be safe.  C twisted my boundaries.  He wanted me to do some pretty disgusting things with V in front of him.  Frankly, he erased my boundaries in order to manipulate me.  It left my fantasies truly messed up.  So when I got out, after C, the only boundaries I could find were "avoid sex".  After that boundary, after consent, I feel so scared of what to do next.  I feel scared I might hurt my partner in some way.  As much as I want to trust my girlfriend to tell me when some-thing's wrong I can't really go into sex saying "by the way, I think I'm dangerous".
     
    In all other areas of life I've been able to undo his brainwashing.  I've observed other people carefully and figured out a map of what is "normal" and "acceptable".  In the hardest cases I've simply asked people what was normal.  That is, I've re-learned to be me.
     
    But when it comes to sex, its much more difficult.  All I've got is a 17 year old's memoires of a destroyed relationship, C's abuse and some pretty messed up relationships since.  How do you begin to build a map of what's normal with that?  It's not like pornography is going to give any idea of "normal" or even "acceptable".
     
    Dating J for the past few months has helped.  It seems that finding the right person has been important.  We began very simply.  Very un-adventurous.  J didn't ask me what my fantasies are and when she's tried since I've gently but firmly avoided the question.  She's since told me she wants to try new things and doesn't really know what to try.  She wants me to come up with some ideas and that's where I'm being ultra careful.  Under no circumstance do I want what we do to be influenced by C and I know that my fantasies are still messed up.  So for the moment I'm able to come up with a few ideas and keep things a very long way from anything C ever talked about or tried to make me do.
     
    I know there will come a time when there is an overlap between what happened with C and what we do now.  But I'm working on building a map that starts with "vanilla" and works out from there.  Hopefully I can re-inforce that map enough so that when things become more "interesting" I don't find myself slipping into flashbacks during sex.
  4. This morning after my morning duty (which I was promptly late for...again....), I was stopped by my principal who asked to speak with me. She then proceeded to update me on how some of the 8th grade girls in our school were "letting the boys touch them between the legs, slap their butts, and things like that." I guess that Monday someone saw a boy with his hand between another student's legs and for some reason it just now prompted serious attention from administration...

    Except wait..my school has the laziest administrators ever so of course they didn't address this themselves. Instead, I was asked to address this with 8th grade girls. So our conversation continued and something similar to this was thrown out..."teachers are seeing the girls laughing when their butts are being slapped or they are being touched and we are afraid it will continue until one day, they decide they don't like it and then they whine about sexual assault."

    Now, keep in mind it's middle school. Of course, boys are pervs and will get by with whatever they can. If they know a girl laughs when her butt is smacked, of course they are going to keep doing it..and more.

    Also, keep in mind..it's middle school. Girls are wanting to fit in and be liked and be seen as cool. They don't want to be seen as prudes who can't take a joke. Also, they don't have the skills to say no and to refuse these smacks and touches.

    Anyway, I give my speech to some classes of girls after the boys leave and many of them said they don't like it when it happens, they just don't know how to make it stop because the boys don't listen when they say no.

    We have a group of boys who are athletes, popular, rich families. They never get in trouble for anything and they know  this. Administration is weak here so these boys get by with whatever they want. They harass kids, fight kids, take nude pix they get from other girls and send them around. 

    I am not good at confrontation and I hate standing up to people..especially bosses. However, today I did discuss with teachers that I feel this needs to be addressed with boys as well. Will it ever happen? I doubt it. They'll blow it off, like they do everything else.

    Our school is falling apart because our awesome 3rd VP was cut this year, leaving us down to two who just want to gossip and do nothing all day. Discipline is ignored, kids are realizing they can do whatever they want with little consequence. A lot of serious issues are thrown off on teachers and me, the counselor. 

    This is an issue that has bothered me all day. yes, some of these girls think its funny for real when they get slapped and they also slap boys on the butt and stuff too. But for a lot of these girls, they have no idea how to say no and make it stop.

    It saddens me that I work in a school that enables this behavior and throws blame on girls for this happening.

    It's also a school that has said that a gay child brings bullying upon himself for being so "loud and flamboyant and drawing attention to himself."

    Some days, I think I would like to be a principal just for the fact that I have a huge interest in helping to make our school a positive place and helping our school climate become welcoming. I'd have the power to make things right and to take care of these serious issues. However, I also know that I would be a weak leader, as I do not have the personality of a leader. No one would listen to me and I would be walked all over by employees.

    Anyway, I just needed to get this off my chest.

     

     

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    Went back to therapy this Thursday, still in outpatient but had to see if i could get trauma therapy and found out I could, wish was good news maybe. Anyway most of the session was talking to TC, my youngest little, she is 3 or 4, she is so little, it hurts to look at her, she does not usually talk just cries but she talked this time,because I was willing to hear her or maybe she found her voice, I asked her what she needed from me and she said, she needed to be be believed, she needed to feel safe so i held her and stroked her hair and told her she no longer had to see her dad, i would protect her and she cried and said no he was her daddy and told me she did'nt trust me because i had hurt her a whole bunch of times, i told her i wouldnt do that anymore she just fell quiet as the therapy appointment ended and now i have to write my dad a goodbye letter and she keeps weeping, i can hear her like when she showed me TW.... her daddy teaching her to bring the leopard blanket and how to sneak her little hand under and please him as her mommy made dinner and her big brother played in the same room, I do not how to get her trust after hurting her through self harm through years, I want to tell her saying goodbye to her daddy is a good thing but she just sits and cries, i have no idea what to do now because all TC wants is her daddy.

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    Lil' Tribble 789
    Latest Entry

    Hi! I'm just going to cut to the chase here. I started this blog to see what constitutes child abuse. I remember some very bad things from my childhood and, as weird as this may sound, I know they were real but I still feel like I am lying. I would be happy to share if anyone asks although I figure this is a good place for people to sort out what's going on in their home situation. 

  5. That it is not (as I've tried to believe) "just something that happened a long time ago". It is something that still makes me feel sick inside every day. 
    That the effects run much deeper than they could imaging, deeper than I ever thought before I started really looking, and probably deeper still than I am currently aware. 
    That So very many things can be a trigger, and this can change depending on how I'm feeling. If I'm feeling low, Everything makes me think about it and feel even more sh!t. 
    Mostly I just wish people understood rape. I wish thay knew that it isn't 'normally' like what you see on the news. 75-90% of the time it is someone you know, a date/friend/boyfriend, not a stranger at the bus stop, it happens at their house or your own, somewhere you should have felt safe. That freezing is as 'normal' a response to this as 'fight or flight'. I wish people just knew this, I wish I'd known this.

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    Kkhateera
    Latest Entry

    I have really enjoyed some of the blogs out there! How long should a blog entry be anyway? How do you write an excellent one? What does everyone want to read? I guess I'll just write until I find a style I enjoy. I've never really been into blogs, but now it's like I can't get enough! It's like reading some one's journal entries! It's incredibly personal, but in many ways totally relate-able.

    Well, I got caught in the YouTube loop today - but first, BF and I are thinking about moving to Maine in the future, so I was doing research on that (Mostly on the winters there because he really is a summer boy), as well as which other states would be a good fit for us. Well, I was also curious about what state would be the best fit for me. This is important because if I don't know what I want I have the potential for being unhappy where we move. Maybe it's because I have a Malamute, but apparently I'm a good fit for Alaska! haha! I personally would love to live in Alaska, but I think my man would just die! He'd do it for me, but I'm not gonna make him do that!

     -ANYWAY-

    I watched a YouTube video by Linda Barsi on what it's like living there (Alaska), but I also watched another video about her journey to anti-depressants which I found very helpful....and emotional. In that same video she referenced Ana Akana (?) who also had lots to say on depression and I watched HOURS of her videos....literally hours. Usually I get stuck watching other things like the vlog brother's sci show or the slow-mo guys but I was practically glued to the screen because everything she was saying about HER depression resonated with ME. Well, it just so happens she's also in a TV show called single by 30, which I HAD to check out (thus is the YouTube loop). So, one thing led to another  and Om-goodness that show is adorable! It may be a chick show but it makes me think a lot of BF and I. It's two people in their 30's who had made a pact in high school that they would get married (as backup) if they were still single when 30 yrs old. We didn't make that promise, but he has always been my back up; meaning he's always been there for me and I him. We just know each other so well and I love it so much! If ever anything went terribly wrong or was worth celebrating he was - and is - the 1st one I run to.

    Speaking of which. There has been some tension in our relationship, but I blame my end of things.....

    1- I've let my emotions drive a lot of the time

    2- Most of my traumatic history happened while in a relationship setting, so I'm weird about a lot of things 

    3- I've been putting him more in the boyfriend box than the best friend box - which is bad because our foundation lies in us being friends very first, and my brain doesn't have nice things to say or ways to think about boyfriends.

     We have so much chemistry and personal investment in one another that I don't need to overthink it or get lost in my head about it. I just need to be how we always have been. I shot him a text today saying that I loved him and that I am so glad he's my best friend. I asked him if he'd wanna hang out tonight after he's off work, and to be honest that felt a lot better than saying we should have date night. I feel like that might be how I need to do that for a while. Dating seems fake and short lived. I wanna go back to what makes us so amazing. I'm not friend zoning him, I just feel more relaxed and connected when I tune in on that level instead. No pressure, just us, and I can express my love and be with him in a way that isn't connected to my exes. It's weird having him in this area of my life. In some ways it complicates things because I've kept the titles of best friend and boyfriend in different categories. In other ways it's refreshing, and a healthy challenge to look at things differently. Still,  boyfriend has a negative connotation to me, so having some one positive in that role is hard to process. Does that make sense? haha I treat him differently as boyfriend and that's not working well. SO we can go back to best friend, flirty, supportive, lovers and I'm gonna marry him some day. I can't wait!

    I love how we work together! AH!

    I just love connecting with him every day. I don't even care if it's him playing his games on his phone and I read a book while leaning on him with small talk, watching futurama and eating an oven pizza and laughing together, playing hearthstone and BS-ing all night, recalling memories or playing with the fur child in the living room. I want to give him everything - anything he wants. He has good desires and he deserves it as far as I'm concerned! I love it, I love it, I love HIM! Yes He is my lover, soul mate, companion, confidante, future husband, and many other things, but our foundation really comes from how awesome we are as friends BECAUSE we have always there for one another and we enjoy one another's company more than anyone else. I absolutely LOVE that security. I can count on him no matter what! I think my favorite though is how much he also depends on me for support. I love being there for him. I feel valuable, helpful, and important. He got really personal with me the other night - Big drama went on with some people from his past and after we worked things out and helping him process, he told me I was the only real friend he ever had. He may know other people and game hard online, but it's nothing in comparison to what we have. You have to understand, every single life crisis we've had as individuals, we involved the other one in because we're like magnets. It was easier to deal with problems having him there. It was so nice having a different perspective from some one I trusted who could tell it to me straight in a kind way that was in my interest. Over all these years there were other people that we dated, and we were flirty ourselves, haha but it's never felt so good as it has now: actually teaming up with him like this. It's like we finally reached our destination. I don't have to re learn another person to this extent, I just have to keep exploring him and continue strengthening us. I don't have to "put myself out there" with my set of fears, around people I don't even know, not knowing if they can even begin to understand where I'm coming from, or if they'll treat me better than my previous relations. (On top of that - build confidence in them.) His statement really touched me deeply. I am so silly for ever worrying if I was a priority, because his track record is proof. At the very LEAST he will be there when I need him - he always has been, so long as he knows something is going on. I'm so glad I haven't shut him out or let my fears overtake me. As always, only I am holding me back - so it's time to be my own hero and do the scary things like open up, fight my irrational thinking, do what's good for me and save myself so I can enjoy moments like these. :) No one can help me if I don't let them. It's all up to me. I am my own hero, and if I just step out of my own way nothing can stop me.

  6. bad tw

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    Annie7
    Latest Entry

    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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    Debbie20
    Latest Entry

    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?

  7. 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.

  8. 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... 

  9. 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. 

  10. 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.

  11. 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....

  12. 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."

  13. 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”.

    Three:

    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....

  14. teaandcoffee
    Latest Entry

    Content warning: Sex

     

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    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?

     

  15. 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.