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thether82

So I've tried journaling, I've had a blog many, many moons ago. ...but it has been a long time since I have regularly written to try to deal with life. As a teenager, writing is what helped me survive. I never really wrote about the deep stuff, the really hard stuff, but enough that it got enough out to keep going. Most of the time my writing was desperate attempts to be a "good girl" - writing prayer lists of who I needed to pray for, begging for forgiveness for the things I had done wrong, writing prayers of thanks.

So I'm giving this a try...we'll see if I keep it up or if it falls by the wayside like many endeavors I try to deal with my past.

I have been in therapy for several years. In the past year or so I have come to the realization that I don't remember much about my childhood and there are some time chunks in which I don't really remember anything. I also have been having dreams and body memories that have been freaking me out. It has been really hard to sort through and make sense of. Sometimes I feel like I'm just crazy and there is nothing to it. A lot of the time if feels like the dreams are memories...foggy, shadowy memories that are impossible to make sense of. Sometimes I just want to write it all off and stop trying to figure it all out - afraid of the two alternatives of figuring it out...I'm crazy or actually having an idea of things that happened to me as a kid. We'll see where this journey ends up.

thether82

Tonight I am restless, finding it difficult to breathe, want to hide under the covers...my anxiety is in full throttle. I hate this. This is an anniversary time for me for abuse that happened around my 8th birthday. One of two incidents that happened at the hands of the boyfriend of a babysitter.

***TW...***

For some reason the two incidents with this guy are ones I remember clearly. I remember what happened...I remember his hand around my neck, I remember the pillow over my face, I remember the feeling of him on top of me, I remember the names he called me, I remember the threats he made, I remember him telling me "this is the only thing you will ever be good for." Sometimes I give in to the negative thoughts, I give into the messages he gave me at the age of 7-8, I start to believe that maybe he was telling the truth, that I am only good for one thing, that I truly am those names that he called me.

Then I start to feel guilt...I never told anyone about the abuse until I was 20 years old. I start to wonder...how many other children did he do these things to? how many other children did he ingrain these messages into? how many other children live with this baggage? What if I would have told? Could he have been stopped? Could others have been spared the same violation? Obviously I don't know that he did these things to anyone else, but I assume it...knowing what I do about predators, it is very likely.

...

Tonight I don't know what to do with myself...I pace the house, I turn the TV up loud to try to drown out the thoughts on loop in my head...it isn't working...I just feel so alone in all of this...

thether82

Heavy-hearted

My heart is so heavy with everything in the news this past week...

First, the story to the Stanford rape and "sentence" of Brock Turner. Articles, memes, and comments flooded my Facebook for days following. It not only angered me that this man could receive such a light sentence for such a crime as to not impact his future...the downplay of his actions by his father...the victim blaming. Also, it caused an incident that happened to me in college to play on a loop in my head for several days. In the grand scheme of things that happened to me in my life, I would rate it towards the minor end. But it was a situation where I had way too much to drink and ended up in a situation with a guy who decided my body was his to do with as he pleased when I fell asleep on a couch. Thankfully, someone walked in or who knows how far he would have went. With this news story, I am able to find some good...I admire the courage of the victim, her impact statement was so powerful and reached so many. I'm thankful for the two guys who stopped and intervened in the situation when they could have told themselves it wasn't their concerns and kept riding. I'm thankful for the conversations regarding consent that resurged due to this incident.

Then, the senseless loss of life in Orlando at the club Saturday night/Sunday morning. Such hatred...such loss... I have a hard time wrapping my brain around it. Even with all the gains the LGBT community has made, it is a reminder that there is still a long way to go. It has hard to sift through the news stories, the comments on the issue, those who do not want to acknowledge that this was a crime of hate directed towards LGBT people, those who want to use the incident to further their own agendas, those who say those who were shot got what they deserved because they were gay and therefore less than. As a member of the LGBT community, it shakes my already fragile, almost non-existent sense of safety as I navigate the world. It makes me want to hide away. But, I will continue to engage the world, I will continue to be me, I will continue to show love because love must win. I am only one person, with no power, no platform but I will do my part to affect the world around me. If we give up, if we hide away in fear, hate will not be challenged, progress cannot be made. 

So I hold the victim in the Stanford case, her family; the families, friends of those killed in the Orlando shooting, the injured, those first responders and investigators involved, the city of Orlando, those in the LGBT community whose sense of safety has been further shattered close to my heavy heart. 

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