A Black Woman Surviving Rape: Jan 31, 2013

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Her halo is broken along with her heart Her once white robes are stained and shredded apart Her beautiful face is now streaked with tears Can you believe she's felt like this for years? She's watched her once glorious life go down the drain Now all she's got left is the pain When it rains, do you hear her cries? Can you feel the hurt and pain fall from the skies?? She once was so happy never once doubting her life But now it's too often she talks only to a knife She once was so beautiful, graceful, and fair Her once golden locks turned to black hair But now she is broken and nobody cares

I’m scared of nursing school; I’m scared the only thing I want to do most in the world will be my biggest failure. I’m worried I won’t be able to remember everything and handle the material. I just don’t think I’m that smart anymore.

I ummmmm……..I’m just really lonely right now. Being rejected hurts just as much as being with someone who doesn’t even love you. My hands are so shaky right now. I wonder if I’m going to feel like this for the rest of my life. I mean hell I’ve felt like this since elementary school really. The ups and downs, the highs and lows with my moods I’m just so tired. Like I’ll feel really happy and an hour later I’ll feel so sad to the point of breaking down. And it starts all over again…..every day….ALL DAY LONG

Last night was so hard. I just needed someone to tell me everything is going to be ok. I wanted to cut last night…I wanted to cut so badly. I felt the pain and anger run through my veins and I wanted to explode. It was way too much for me to handle right now. I drug my fingernails across my wrist. I didn’t press hard enough to do any damage but the pressure was relieving. It’s still sore today but it’s better than using the razor like I wanted to.

So many nights I’ve wrapped myself up in that heavy blanket pretending that it was anyone’s arms holding me. Many nights spent crying because I can’t hold on to anything anymore right now. The rocking back and forth, the screams into my pillow, tears constantly pour down my face. I’ve cried so much I could fill up the ocean with my shame.

I’m tired and sad. It hurts, it hurts so bad. I just want to feel ok again. Mentally I just feel so fucked up right now. I’m tired; I’m really tired and worn out. I’m at a constant battle with my mind and I’m losing. I keep telling myself that everything is going to be ok. I don’t want to be here anymore.

Mrs. Golden Rays

My name is Golden Rays, I am a survivor of molestation, domestic violence and multiple rapes which has led to Vaginismus. Vaginismus is a condition where intercourse is extremely painful and sometimes impossible. I advocate for other victims of sexual assault to spread the awareness of the problem. It is an epidemic and no one is doing anything about it. It is said that 1 out of 4 girls and 1 out of 6 boys will be assaulted before the age of 18. In the United States every 2 minutes another woman is raped. The myths behind rape are so damaging, especially when people actually believe in it. Most rapes aren’t reported. Most rapes do not go to trial. Majority of acquaintance and date rapes are committed by men the victim know and they are the hardest to prosecute because often times it’s the woman’s word against the mans. A lot of acquaintance and date rapes involve alcohol and drugs and NO it’s NOT THE VICTIMS FAULT. Ever

I am also the daughter of a Malignant Narcissistic Mother, Narcissistic Sister and Enabling Father. I’m also a survivor of a Malignant Narcissistic Mother. For those of you who don’t know Narcissism is a personality disorder that few people don’t recognize and don’t understand. People who suffer from NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) are like vampires (or parasites). They use you to suck the life out of you. Most victims don’t notice anything wrong because of how it can be undetected. They are very manipulative people who will do anything possible to gain control of you. If you happen to hear of one, run fast the other day. The effects of this disorder on the victim are very deadly.

I’m writing this blog because I’m tired of holding my feelings in without people asking me if I’m ok. I’m writing this blog because even though I am a survivor of all the things listed above, I am also a black woman. When I went to find people to talk to about my past, I couldn’t find one black woman who was willing and open enough to talk about the secretes that we hide. We are dying; we are killing ourselves by keeping pain inside. This blog isn’t just for black women but it’s intended to be directed towards them.