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“is that why they call me a sullen girl? Sullen girl? They don’t know I use to sail the deep and tranquil seas until he washed me ashore and he took my pearl. And left and empty shell of me.“ -Fiona Apple, Sullen girl. Fiona Apple was a victim of rape at the age of twelve and wrote sullen girl . The song not only touches on the rape itself but also talks about the judgement she faced due to her behavior after the incident. unfortunately that is a harsh and truly unforgivable reality. Isn’t it? And everyone in the same exact breath turns around and asks why don’t they ask for help? Or why they don’t come forward sooner? Because your to busy bashing us. Because your to busy calling us whores. Or deeming is weak. Because your to busy feeling uncomfortable to help. Your to busy throwing your jeers and insensitive ignorant words around the see the pain we carry in our hearts and souls. I have four words for you... How.Fucking.Dare.You. we are in pain. We were dragged into terrible dark places and had our minds twisted and bodies violated and hurt. Confidence shattered afraid to love, afraid to feel physical contact, and all society, or friends and sadly enough even family members have done is judge us, mock us. How dare you! victims of sexual violence/assault/rape etc..are made to feel afraid of the scrutiny they will face rather than the perpetrators feeling afraid. This is one of the things that made it hard for me to come forward, even though I know my family. However I don’t think they quite don’t know what to do or they feel uncomfortable so they say whatever they think will make me feel better. sometimes it makes me feel like I have no place to turn. I don’t have many friends either and the ones I do have don’t understand the pain. But I to have faced the insensitive and hurtful remarks. In an earlier blog post I mentioned a friend who said he could see why people rape or commit sexual assault after I told him what happened to me. I also know some family members would put me under their microscopes if I dare breathe a word about what happened to me. But venting aside.... i do talk to an online therapist and though I like her she can only do so much. but there is another wonderful therapist I have been seeing. Music. It really has been a wonderful tool for me. Artists like Fiona Apple, Tori Amos, and Siouxsie Sioux have helped me deal and cope with my feelings of my own sexual assault through talking about their own experiences through their music. Sometimes when I think back on what happened to me and it becomes to much I’ll plug in my tunes. It helps me focus on something good and creative or helps me through my most raw and agonizing emotions. Even if I feel enraged or Incensed I turn on some Otep or System of a Down and handle whatever shit I need to handle. When I feel mellow and need a little pick me up I listen to ABBA, or Amy Winehouse or sometimes mellow isn’t a bad thing so it’s a little Ella Fitzgerald or Louis Armstrong. Yea..my music tastes are all over the place. But for me music has been a savior and almost like a friend. And an alternative to some of the horrible things I think about doing at times. Music also makes me feel safe I feel safe from my demons whom I can’t hear screaming because Jefferson Airplane is signing about the elusive white rabbit i feel safe from my neighbor who triggers me in more ways than one. Who has time to think of him when Blondie is singing about the man from mars? I feel safe from society when David Bowie is singing about the star man in the sky or when Leonard Cohen is singing about lovely Vienna and the waltz. I think another part of the reason music is so comforting is because it was made by artists who have faced or are still facing their own struggles. Some who have even been swallowed whole by them. Music is something society tries to put into its strict bullshit idealism of what it should and shouldn’t be. Real Music is art, pain, laughter sadness, light, darkness, triumph and hope and for some salvation. Although, sometimes I do need the support of another human being. But unfortunately it’s difficult to know who you can trust. This has been something that has been on my mind for awhile so the emotions are fresh and raw in my head so the blog reads like a rant and may jump from topic to topic and I apologize if it doesn’t make sense. But until then onwards and upwards!
I printed off what I wrote and took the book referenced in part one in to the PhD that I trust. I read it aloud. "May I see the book?" "Absolutely." "That's damaging." "It is and although I despise the men who have made tons of money in law enforcement off of their sales practice, I won't burn the book. I refuse to do what Hitler and many others have done by burning books. I do NOT agree with the parochial 'version' of anger and if anything calling it a sin makes them money by keeping people sick and miserable. Worst longterm gaslight tactic ever."
The question is "How are you doing?" Immediate answer is "Good, you?" I smile even though inside I'm hurting, Because society fears the truth: I'm not okay. If one were to open up and say "I'm really not doing very well" People would withdraw and back away, So we hide behind fake happy shells. We're not okay. Our first world complaints are frivolous To third world countries in poverty. Our daily luxuries are limitless, While their dishes are hand-made pottery. They're not okay. We waste money on pointless wars Instead of paying our country's debts. The rich get richer, and poor stay poor: Sadly, this is our country's vignette. The world is not okay.