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rainwoman21

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About rainwoman21

  • Birthday 04/05/1990

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    Survivor

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  1. Last week I found out I was pregnant. I am very excited because I was told I'd never be able to have children due to the abuse...but terrified as well because I am so triggered by doctors!!!

  2. Thank you so much for your kind words! I had a good feeling I was pregnant, but so far the test came back negative. Though I have little faith that I'll ever have a child, that small shred of faith is still there. I can only hope that one day I'm given the chance to be a mother.
  3. rainwoman21

    Seven

    Revenge: something that I love. I wish I didn't have such a vengeful nature, I really do. It's something that I struggle with; something I've always struggled with. When someone hurts me, I have such an overpowering desire to hurt them seven times greater than they hurt me. Just like in the Bible: Avenged Sevenfold. It's ironic that seven is my unlucky number. Everyone tells me, no, Seven is the number of God! Seven is supposed to be lucky! I respond back, "Often the worst things come disguised as the best." Seven is the number of men who raped me. Seven is the number of ultimate betrayals I've suffered in friendships. Whenever something bad happens to me, the date on which it happens is either the 7th or ends with the number 7. I am not a superstitious person, but when I randomly see the number seven, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I feel afraid. It's a bad omen. I avoid gambling because the machines are peppered with 7's. Fitting, though, because the vast majority of the people who play the slots end up losing money. It's a false promise. The hope lures people in and traps them. Just like the hope and promise of friendship lured me to my 'death' three and a half years ago. But the person I really hate is myself; not those who hurt me. Because in my mind, I deserve to be hurt. I deserve every bad thing that's happened to me. I deserve infertility, I know. Even though it was HIS child, I killed it. I'm a murderer. Seems fitting that the murder I committed should be avenged sevenfold. My dream was always to be a mother. I'll never have that now. So I guess it goes without saying that the test came back negative. Michael wants me to take another one this week, but I can't stand it. I will break down crying when I see that lone, cruel negative sign on the test. Maybe instead of sadness, I'll feel more rage at the fate that I deserve for what I've done. I'm a spiritual person, but not a religious one. I can't stand going to church because of the 'purity' messages that they always preach. No doubt the person preaching it is going off and jerking off to porn just like they all do. All founded on hypocrisy. I can't stand to hear it. It drives a truck right through my heart. I hope when I meet God, he doesn't judge me like that. "Judge not, lest you be judged...." That's a message I need to remember. I am evil at heart; a sinner. And a killer. My one dream destroyed by my own actions. Michael was sad, too. The night before we had gone out and looked at carseats and cribs, hoping maybe. Maybe, just maybe. Just like me, he wanted a little girl. A little princess. He was at work when I took the test. Afterwards, I texted him the results, and then collapsed on the bed crying. "If not now, then someday," he told me when he got home. But maybe not someday. The fact that I murdered my rapist's unborn child has come back to haunt me. I see it in my dreams. I see it. It was a boy. The boy's death is being avenged sevenfold. "Those who show mercy will be shown mercy." I should have remembered that. I'm sure I'll die and go to hell when I'm 77.
  4. rainwoman21

    My Story...

    Lalachant, I do not find you judgmental at all! I did the exact same thing. I can tell if a guy is worthy of dating by his reaction....if he can 'handle it' or not. Sad to say, but I think it makes us better judges of character. When a guy brushes it off as if it were nothing, I refuse to date them as well. So I completely understand where you're coming from. I did the cowardly thing and lost a bunch of weight so that men would find me unattractive and it worked. However, there were still a small few who were interested, but they were typically jerks. That's the kind of man I attract, unfortunately. I met my significant other, Michael, on eHarmony. He made it clear he was looking for a woman who had been through some serious things in life because he had, too. I am only now starting to learn what a normal sexual relationship is, although I still have a great deal of trouble. I have to drink alcohol before I can have sex most of the time. The association is still there, and I'm sorry you have to experience the same thing. I want to do the same thing, but I'm at a loss at how to approach it, or if it will be too triggering for me and set me back. I've considered contacting my local rape crisis center because I know they have educational programs and really need volunteers. -Rain
  5. rainwoman21

    My Story...

    Lalachant, I am so sorry that you had to experience this...our stories, unfortunately, have many similarities. I know how you feel about the word 'rape...' I've only now gotten to the point where I can say it sometimes, and it still sometimes bothers me. That is incredible that you got your Master's Degree despite everything you went through! And I do not think you are stupid at all for letting your rapist back in...they are con artists; predators. They have ways of tricking us that we don't even think of because we do not have a predatory nature like they do. There was no 'lesson' for you to learn, although I understand, as I suffer from a great deal of self-blame as well. I was 19 during the time of my sexual abuse, and he was also a friend of mine...I kept going back as well because he was VERY persuasive and I felt afraid for my life. I did not report mine either. I didn't want to go through the ordeal of a trial, and he probably wouldn't have gotten much time in prison anyway. Thank you SO much for sharing your story with us...you are so brave -Rain
  6. rainwoman21

    Shattered Hope

    The most painful thing resulting from the sexual abuse was the fact that a doctor told me I probably would never be able to have children, and if I did ever get pregnant, I probably would not be able to carry the child to term. She gave me a reason why, but I cannot remember. I was so destroyed emotionally at the time that I blacked it out. My main abuser also gave me precancerous cells, but thanks to Gardasil, they are all gone now. Before the doctor even knew about the abuse, she shoved the results in my face disapprovingly. "Look at this. Because of this, you might not be able to have children now." She may have been just saying it to scare me. Either way, it left a permanent scar on my heart. If I hadn't let her die, if I had just walked out of there....my former self. Her one dream was to be a mother. Granted, I got a college degree. I'm looking for a job. BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT I WANT. That's not what I EVER wanted! I've always wanted some menial part time job while I raised children....just as long as it's not customer service and I don't have to kiss people's asses for a living. I used to be able to do that before I went through abuse. Now I just can't put up with someone compaining about something as silly as buying a product that malfunctioned and they have to 'drive all the way up to the store to take it back.' Look death in the face, like I did, and I guarantee you would never complain about something so silly in your life. I went to two other doctors and got two second opinions. Both told me I miraculously look fine, and that there's no reason why I shouldn't be able to have children. The opinion of the first doctor, however, frightened me into oblivion. It's always the first opinion that leaves the lasting fear on our hearts. I've been pregnant once before...with HIS child. I know it was HIS. He was the only one who didn't use a condom. Since I was 'his property,' all of the other guys had to wear a condom but he didn't. After it was all over, I just had a feeling. A horrible feeling. My good friend since middle school made me take a test. It came back positive. I went crazy. I grabbed every heavy thing I could find and jammed it into my stomach. "IT'S NOT MINE!!!! IT'S NOT MINE!!!" I screamed over and over again. "GET IT OUT OF ME, IT'S EVIL!!!!!!" Oh, I couldn't stand the thought of carrying HIS child.... Obviously I must have miscarried, but my memory is a complete blank. I have no recollection of a miscarriage. None whatsoever. Although in the back of my mind, I know I did. I feel like a terrible person. I'm not sure whether I killed it or not. After that, I probably don't deserve to have children. I just felt like I was carrying the devil inside me. I couldn't stand it. The other time I was pregnant was with my ex boyfriend's child. We had been dating for a year. I was terrified of telling "Corbin," but I didn't have to say anything...he guessed it right off the bat. He told me that there was no way he was keeping this child. He said if I decided to keep it, it would be on me and I would have to find a way to take care of it because he 'wasn't dealing with it.' This was not the Corbin I knew. We always used protection, but things happen. "I'll pay for the abortion. I'll pay for all of it. You don't have to worry about the cost. That's a lot cheaper than having a kid," Corbin said. "But I don't agree with abortion, Corbin. We chose to have sex, so we need to accept the responsibilities that come along with it." "Well, I'm not going to deal with that. It will be a shame if you end up with a daughter. She won't have a father. And then guess what? She'll end up exactly like you. She'll end up going through the same thing that you went through (sexual abuse)." I had to admit that he was right. He researched ways to cause a miscarriage without going in for an abortion. He gave me handfuls of Vitamin C. By the time I was 10 days late for my period, I had very heavy bleeding. I knew. Corbin cheered with happiness. I cried on the bed. I broke up with him 2 weeks later. I had haunting nightmares about the child I miscarried. Now....it's two years later and I'm 99 percent sure that I'm pregnant again, this time with Michael's child. We never use protection...we both agree that if God deems us fit to have a child then we will. Still, before I told him, I was frozen with fear. I couldn't stand the thought of going through what I did with Corbin. I told him that I had something to tell him and I burst out crying and started shaking. "What is it, babe? You think you might be pregnant? I suspected it about a week ago." I nodded my head. And then I told him the story of Corbin and why I was afraid. "My poor girl. That's not bad news, that's good news! We're definitely gonna have to start saving if you are, but we can make it work. No way would I ask you to get rid of our child." "I a-also didn't want to t-t-tell you because I'm so afraid I'll miscarry and I d-don't want to hurt you too! This is my cross to bear!" "If that's the case, then we'll both get through it together. You shouldn't have to go through that alone." I still haven't taken a test yet. I'm afraid to. But the symptoms are so obvious, and I just have this feeling. I don't deserve to have a child. I don't deserve to have a family. But I would be a good mother, and Michael would be a good father.
  7. Oh my goodness...thank you so much for posting this!!! I am the same way. I'm terrified to spend time with friends...even safe ones that I know will not hurt me. I'll go to see them and make an excuse to leave early out of fear. I cut most of my friends out of my life simply because I was too afraid to have them! I wish I had advice to give, as I am still dealing with this myself. I don't want to go on medication either because I feel like it is nothing more than a Bandaid over a wound that requires open surgery, metaphorically. What helps me with my anxiety, rage, and other emotions is exercise. I run. When I run, I listen to music and think about how angry I am with my attackers and fuel it all into my workout. This helps as long as I'm careful not to overdo it, as I've had a tendency to do so. Writing also helps extraordinarily. I keep a tiny notepad in my purse and every time I'm afraid out in public I'll stop and write how afraid I am and why I'm afraid. That helps me, too. When I'm at a friend's house and don't want them to see, I'll pull out my phone and pretend like I'm texting, but really I'm writing how I'm feeling. I hope this helps! Thank you for sharing your feelings...it is comforting knowing that I'm not alone. Rain <3
  8. Ashley, I just wanted to let you know that you are very strong, even though you don't feel like it right now. The fact that you are on here sharing, letting out some of those painful emotions, shows what strength you have. And you do have every right to call yourself a survivor!!! I am so proud that you have made it five years since the abuse. That alone gives me hope...I have only made it 3 years and it is so hard some days and I feel like I'll never make it through. I just wanted to let you know that I understand what you are going through, and how none of your emotions seem to make sense. I feel that way a lot. Please know that I am always here for you, listening, anytime you need me! You are stronger than you think! Rain <3
  9. I am so glad I was able to help you, sweetie. If my pain can give just one person hope, then it was worth experiencing. I am so sorry to hear that you feel the same rage....it's horrible, I know! I understand the fear all too well...after the abuse, I would skip class a lot simply because I was too terrified to leave my apartment. I am so happy to hear that you are still in college, though! That alone shows your strength....I have unfortunately met many girls who have had to drop out because the stress of dealing with the abuse and their studies was too much for them. I, too, had such problems focusing...my mind was often a whirlwind of emotions. I still have quite a long way to go. But I want to let you know...the one thing that helped me (and I think it will help you too! ) is that when I was in college, I always thought to myself, "I will never let my abusers take away my chance at this diploma. It's the one thing I will have that they never will." I fueled all my anger into my schoolwork, which is why it's so difficult now....I have nothing to fuel it into. I know you will make it though! The fact that you are on here sharing is a HUGE step. Every time you share your story, your abusers lose a little more power. You are an inspiration to me as well!!!
  10. The one bright spot in my life is my boyfriend, "Michael." I am very, very blessed to have him. He knows about the abuse-has known since my first date with him, and accepts me for it. We met on an online dating site. Both of us had been so badly burned in past relationships that we had only signed up for online dating as a shot in the dark. Both of us had dreamed all our lives of having a family and having children, but it seemed like we were the only ones living without either. I will be turning 23 in 2 days and since the sexual abuse at 19, I have slowly been watching every single girl I know either have children or get married. My boyfriend is turning 26 in 2 months, and it has been the same for him. Hell, I even nicknamed myself "Good Luck Chuck" because every guy I either slept with or dated would end up marrying the next girl he slept with or dated. The day I met him online was literally on or very close to the 3rd anniversary of the night of the first rape (October 4, 2009). It was meant to be. I kept remembering the rule of 3's and how a person cannot go longer than 3 years without hope. Well, guess what...it had been a long 3 years without hope. My PTSD blackouts were starting to get more and more intense to the point where I would overdose and not be able to control what I was doing. I never told anyone. I never called anyone. Getting locked up in some psychiatric facility would only make things worse. Every time I overdosed I would wake up in the morning just fine. I felt like Kenny from South Park. No matter what happened to me, I couldn't die. A week before we met in person, we talked on the phone. What was supposed to be a short conversation lasted all night long. We had so much in common. Michael had been in the military for 8 years and is now a lieutenant. I had always wanted to date a soldier. They know what it's like to nearly die. They're more mature. They've been through hell and back and understand hardships. They understand that you'll do whatever you have to do to survive, regardless of how filthy and degrading it is. But as we were talking, I felt a connection I had never felt before. After my last failed relationship, I didn't think that I could ever love again. I didn't think that it was possible. Michael rekindled that hope. Before we both said good night (or, rather, good morning) and hung up the phone, Michael told me that he had a secret that he thought would prevent a woman from ever wanting to be with him again. My heart began to pound. I told him I had a secret too, and that I shared the same fears. He and I agreed to tell each other at the end of the first date. At that point, I literally did not care what the secret was. I prayed and prayed that I would be able to go through with the date. So many times in the past year I had set up a date and then cancelled at the last minute out of paralyzing fear. I almost did the same...until I entered Michael's first and last name into a Google search. I found a blog he had kept when he was a freshman in college. In one of the entries, he spoke about how disgusted he was with hearing all the boys in college talk about women like they were good for sex and nothing more. He said he wanted so much more than that in a woman. I made up my mind: I would go out with him. I'd take a chance. He picked me up. My voice was nervous and shaky, I knew. But I shoved my fears aside and had a good time with him. I stuffed my shaking hands into my pocket. We talked and got to know each other. He took me to an arcade game place and we had a great time. Both of us worked the overnight shift at our jobs, so we stayed out all night and talked. At the end of the night, as promised, he told me his secret. His ex girlfriend had manipulated him and robbed him blind while he was overseas fighting for our country. I got tears in my eyes. As a woman who has always worked for what I've had, it made me sick. The thought of stealing from anyone makes me sick. He had been manipulated, used, and deceived by someone he loved and trusted....just like I had. Maybe he would understand my situation. Maybe he would love me anyway, damaged though I was. Take a chance, my mind urged me. Tell him. I told him. His reaction was shocking and unpredictable. "What you've been through makes you even more beautiful as a person, because you survived," he said. "As for those guys, I'd like to take them out to the woods and do things to them that they couldn't even think up in their wildest nightmares." "I'd like to do the same thing to your ex," I said. "I was lucky she only took my material things. Those animals-can't even call them men-took a lot more from you." "You trusted her. She cheated on you and robbed you. That is evil, too." Bonded. Inexplicably thrown together by tragic events and evil people. I felt that bond. I know he did, too. God bless the broken road that led me straight to you.... Over the next few months, I never pretended to be someone else. I did not have the energy to do so. I couldn't put on the facade that I had put on with so many others. There had been so much abuse over the past 3 years that I was in so much pain to do anything else. I couldn't handle one more heartbreak. He would have to accept me for who I was...what I was...or I couldn't do it. Right from the beginning of the relationship, we talked marriage and family. Both of us had been through enough to know we had found the right one. But trusting him....I had to work hard at that. He was patient. He understood. I didn't know that I was his dream girl. He wanted a girl that he could save. The rest of the world had given me up as a lost cause. So many psychologists had told me that due to my past experiences that I was unsalvagable and they didn't know how in the hell I had survived. Before I met Michael I felt like I was just waiting to die. But he never gave up on me. I had been used to testing people to see how long they would stick around. I almost made it a game. Hurt and rejected by humanity, I was my own species sent to wreak havoc on the human race. My hero has helped me conquer so many things I never could have gotten through without him by my side. I will list them here: I barely ate, if at all. Though I wouldn't consider myself anorexic, I definitely had a huge problem with food and body image. It's still a struggle, though nothing like it was before. I exercised for 2 hours a day in the gym, burning approximately 1200 calories each session. Not to mention I had a very physical job. Over the entire year of 2012, I did nothing but starve and exercise. Guys did not want to try to hurt or rape a girl that looked like a skeleton. They thought, "Ew, gross." That's what I wanted. I wanted them to leave me alone. That year, a rough estimate of 50 people tried to get me to stop that self-destructive behavior. All failed. They would give up after a short period of time. I would tally the number of people who gave up, like a trophy. I thought to myself, The voice in my head telling me to get thinnerthinnerthinner is the only one who will never leave me. The only one. Michael never threatened to leave, even when I got down to a weight of 100 lbs at 5'8 in January of 2013. He gently encouraged me, assured me I was safe with him, and bought foods I couldn't really help myself around. With love and acceptance, I began to heal. Slowly but surely I got back to a healthy mindset. I will never go back to that place. Never again. I was terrified of sex, and saw it as a form of punishment and hate, not of love. Not going to lie, I still have that mindset, but we are working on that together vehemently. When we first started sleeping together, I had to get tipsy or drunk beforehand. That was the only way I could handle it. "If you tell me no, I'll stop," he said. "No matter what, I'll stop." At first I didn't believe him. I couldn't. Until one weekend when my nightmares and flashbacks and PTSD in general was so bad....he never asked me for sex, not once. After that, I knew he was with me for more than just sex, and that he was telling the truth: he loved me for me. He just seems to know all the right things to do in the bedroom to calm me. I know it's going to be such a long process but he is patient. I still cry afterwards sometimes...I can't help it. I feel bad that he has to put up with that. "Good Luck Chuck," I sobbed. "I'm Good Luck Chuck." "Did you ever see the ending to that movie, sweetheart?" "No, I never did. Just that everyone he slept with ended up with the next person because he was never good enough." "He married Jessica Alba." "Well, he probably didn't sleep with her, then, did he?" "Yes he did. She married him anyway." Such a ridiculous thing to cry over. Such a ridiculous conversation to have. But I was used to being nothing but sex to a man. I was just something to screw until he met the 'right one.' I had no hope. I was just existing. The abuse had left me a shattered, fragmented mess. It had eaten a hole in my heart and ripped me to shreds. Every time I see Michael, he gives me hope. Hope for the future. Hope I never had. I trust him a little bit more every time we talk. I believe a little bit more. Slowly, very slowly. I reveal bits and pieces of the abuse a little at a time. Pieces I have never been able to speak about before with anyone. He has cried with me at the worst parts. I never thought I would be so blessed. Without him, I would probably not be here to type this. Our relationship is not perfect by any means. We argue and bicker just like any other couple. But every time I see him, I fall more and more in love with him, and he with me.
  11. rainwoman21

    Consuming Rage

    Those who have never been through sexual abuse cannot comprehend how incredibly agonizing it is. I am often jealous of them...so blissfully unaware of the soul crushing pain that consumes survivors. Lately I have been consumed with not only pain, but rage as well. Pure, unadulterated rage. It frightens me. At my job, they placed me over in the Babies section of the store (I work overnight at a retail chain stocking product until I can find a job within my field. I graduated college in December 2012 with a degree in Criminal Justice simply to stick it to my abusers). I was told that due to the sexual abuse I suffered when I was 19, I probably would never be able to have children. I am over in that section alone, and I am so filled with anger and rage....I curse, I swear, I hit things when nobody is looking. I swear revenge on my main abuser and his girlfriend for turning me into this hate filled creature. I don't even feel human. But deep down inside I am the most loving, caring person who would do anything for anyone...my triggers are turning me into a monster! I am in such pain I just want to lash out and strike...constantly want to yell and scream. I feel destroyed inside. Most days I feel like my abusers stuck a knife in the back of my head and scrambled my brains. Oh, God, if you had known the person I was before all the abuse took place. Before the day of my 'death...' October 4, 2009. I wish to have that date tattooed onto my ankle, along with the inscription, "NEVER FORGET." I literally felt myself die that night. I speak of myself before the rape in the past tense. She was rain; I am fire. She was sweet and gentle and would give you the shirt off her back. I am ruthless, furious, and unforgiving. Day in and day out, I see red. I have never been this angry before in my life. Therapy is not an option for me. It makes things worse, and I simply cannot relive the events that took place in front of an uncaring, unfeeling stranger as I have tried to do so many times before. I am afraid I will snap and hurt someone. The only thing that calms the hurricane inside my heart is slashing my skin with a blade, which I only do as a last resort. I'll take the anger out on the one who deserves to be punished-me. When people tell me 'it's not my fault,' I want to laugh in their face. I was a moron for trusting those people. I should have known better. Now Little Me is dead because of my own stupidity. I'm cursed to walk the Earth in a body without a soul because of my own actions. I am paying the highest possible price for my misjudgment. I want to kill my main abuser. I want to watch the life drain out of him like it drained out of Little Me that night. I want to scream in his face, "WAS ALL THIS WORTH IT KNOWING YOU HAVE SECONDS LEFT TO LIVE????" Make him stare at a picture of that sweet little girl he murdered while I kill him. I hate him. I hate him so much. The girl who was killed...Little Me...cries out for justice. She wants justice more than anything; justice I cannot give her. Until she gets it, she will never be at peace. I wish there was a way, but the evidence is long gone and the only way for him to pay for his crimes through the legal system would be is if he confessed to it. I found the female abuser's Youtube channel. The one who helped rape me. I keep leaving her comments letting her know that I know what she did. She has since broken up with my main abuser, and is my one chance at implicating "Brian" in the crimes. I'd gladly let her walk if HE went to prison. I hate both of them just as much, but as long as one of them pays for what they have done, I feel that her soul can rest in peace. And maybe the rage will not consume my heart and mind so completely anymore.
  12. Here's a tip that might help people who don't know about it. If you live with other people or share a computer, the best way to hide it is to use Private Browsing. That means that the browser does not save any history, so nobody can see the pages you've been looking at. I use Firefox and Internet Explorer, and all you have to do is click the tab at the top left of the page and you will see an option that says "Start InPrivate Browsing." You can also do this if you right click on the shortcuts for Internet Explorer and Firefox. The option should still be there. This has been a real lifesaver for me when I have used public computers or the computer over a friend's house to access this site!
  13. Tiang, these are wonderful questions! I, too, have been wondering the same things. It scares me a lot when I see that someone joins AS with bad intentions, and I would really like to know what I can do to prevent this from happening as well. There are so many people in the outside world who are scary, so I think of this website as my "safe place." Thank you for asking these questions...I wanted to ask something similar, but didn't quite know how to word it
  14. You'll burn in hell someday. That's what I hope, at least....
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