I would rather be a slave physically than a mental slave for the rest of my life....

So as a black woman speaking right now I really just don’t understand how we have sat up and up with the shit we go through each day.

I’m watching the movie The Help (something I thought I would never ever watch because I was getting tired of watching movies like this) but it’s sending a point across.

I don’t understand how we talk shit about other people and their situations and what they are going through with their families when we are the one at home being raped and beaten every day. But yet for some reason we always have the courage to pick ourselves back up, wipe on the lighter shade of foundation, sweep on that blush and roll on that too colored light lipstick and walk around like the world is so fuckin peaceful. We carry this weight on our shoulders as if we have to be the strongest woman in the world at all times. We have this negative thought in our heads as if we don’t support our own race, no matter what the cause is we are failures. We feel as though as we aren’t as good as our mothers and our grandmothers and our great great grandmothers were.

I sat here an watched this movie sand the only thing I could think of was how man secrets were holding from each other. How many secretes we were keeping from our very own children in order to “protect them” because we didn’t want them to get hurt like we got hurt. But the only way to end that problem is to find a solution to the answer. We have been raped and beaten multiple times but yet we ignore our very one feelings and emotions. We use other objects to hide what we’re feeling.

We as black women are so strong that we break our own selves down. We don’t need anyone else to do it for us. We criticize ourselves to the point of a meltdown, a mental meltdown. But yet when we need help with that meltdown we don’t allow anyone else in to try to help us. We sit and soak and moan and groan all day long but when it’s right in front of our face we turn away with shame and disgust.

We are shameful because we feel as though we couldn’t help ourselves and therefore we can help our families. That disgusted feeling is because we couldn’t do anything to change it. We carry that guilt around with us, even when we are sleeping we have no control over it.

Our emotional connections to our own family are so weak that we can’t justify them. I will never understand how we put up with that bullshit back in in the 60s and 70s but not one of us can stand up for our rights???????? We can’t stand up and say I’ve been raped, I’ve been beaten, I’ve been molested……………

So I sit here, take another sip of my drink and try to relax as I’m watching the movie. I really don’t see what has changes in those past 60 years, we are still slaves. Were just slaves to our own community and to ourselves, and we can’t blame anyone but ourselves.

I just want to cry for us because we are killing ourselves. We don’t talk about anything, we deny the truth but when it happens to other people we are so quick to jump into their cases when we know that we are sitting right in front with them……

All malignant narcissists are inveterate snoops, busybodies, gossips and liars. They are constantly on an expedition to pry information out of you. The information is always used to manipulate you; embarrass you; frame-you; damage your reputation; control you; blackmail you and come between you and the people and things you love. Zip those lips up tight. Play your mental cards very close to your vest and protect your borders.

So I'm not looking forward to writing this list but I know that I have t

So here goes....I'm writing a list of everything wrong my mother has done to me. It's a way of letting my pain go and moving forward with my life and dealing with the emotions.

          ***Some of the things in the list may not be in the right order and most of them I don’t remember the age I was when she said these things but for the bigger issues I do remember the age.

·         At 5 years old, I was in kindergarten and I had flipped my hair over my shoulders with my hand. She flipped out and told me I wasn’t a white girl and if I ever flipped my hair again she was going to cut it all off. *The whole walk home she kept making a mockery of what I had did.

·         After I was molested I had started crying a lot in school because no one would play with me and the only person who wanted to play with me was the boy who molested me. The teacher would make everyone else play with me and the kids started calling me cry baby. When a note got sent home to my "mother" she told me stop being so sensitive and whenever I would cry she would call me a cry baby.

·         At my 5th grade graduation she took us "shopping" and picked out the ugliest dress she could find along with doing my hair how she wanted to do it.

·         In 5th grade I started my period so that summer I had cramps for the first time and cried the whole time and layed in bed with my dad. She got mad and started calling me cry baby again, when my dad said something to her she threw a tantrum and stormed off.

·         The summer of middle school I started listening to pop and boy bands. She hated it, she hated that I read Seventeen and Teen. She hated that I didn’t listen to rap music. She would ask me why I was listening to white people music. She would always comment on the magazines I was reading. My sister read vibe, I read Teen. She would tell me I needed to stop acting white. That black girls don’t shave their legs or listen to white music. When I asked what white music was she had no comment. It got so bad that she told my dad that the only magazine I was allowed to bring home was black magazines.

·         I started bringing home black hair books and she got pissed off at that because I was spending so much time with my hair and I needed to do something else.

·         6th grade she took us shopping for school again and only got us 2 outfits. {I found out later on that my dad had given her $400 to take us school shopping. Between me and my sister we only spend $80.}. She picked out 2 outfits for me and one was all tan. I was on my period and didn’t want to wear a skirt or the color tan. I told her that I didn’t want to mess up my clothes. She made me wear them anyway and I ended up getting blood on them and had to wear my gym shorts home. When I got home she cussed me out for messing up my clothes.

·         When my dad would give us allowance my mother would always come in the room and try to make us feel bad because she didn’t have any money or she didn’t have any cigarettes and she never gave us the money back. One time she asked me for money on my birthday, I shoved it in her face and said I didn’t want anything else from her for the rest of my life.

·         7th grade I had tried out for All State Chorus and my dad took me all the way up to Carol County Maryland on his only day off, my sister went too and she didn’t because she didn’t want to sit in the car for that long ride. Even though I begged her to go, she wouldn’t move.

·         Growing up we had to beg her to spend time with us. She was always running around buying drugs from her friends and spending time with them.

·         One time I needed tampons and I told my "mom" and she said she didn’t have any gas in her car to take me. So my dad took me to the store to get tampons. When we got back home she says she has to go get Uncle and leaves in her car. She just didn’t want to take me.

·         Throughout all of middle school she never bought us clothes except for the 2 outfits we get once a year. She would take hand me downs and would pick out all the clothes I could fit and put them in her closet and told me I could only wear them if I lost weight.

·         When trying on clothes for the next school year she would always comment on my weight. How I had gained weight that year and how I had thunder thighs and people would make fun of me. Every time I would go back for seconds she would remind me how I didn’t want to look like rolly polly.

·         I stopped eating red meat and pork the middle of middle school and she got mad because the only thing I would eat was chicken, vegetables and icecream.

·         I had a chorus concert and my dad and sister went with me but she stayed home again because she didn’t feel like going.

·         During the summer she would make us read from the encyclopedia and write reports. When we were done with the reports and our summer home work for classes she still wouldn’t let us go outside and play. Her excuse was you need to spend some time at home. But she still wouldn’t let us out the house. All she would do is sit and stare at the T.V. and eat.

·         When I had signed up for chorus my freshman year she made me change it because chorus wasn’t going to help me with anything in my life. I took a sewing class instead.....I had been sewing since elementary school to the point I was making clothes from a pattern.

·         9th grade I started to wear weaves and she always had a comment about that. She would say that I was a fake person because I would do my nails too and wear makeup{I had to sneak it in the house because she would never let me wear it, she rarely let me wear lip-gloss}

·         She would say I looked like a clown with all that crap on my face and threatened me to take it off.

·         I had met my ex the end of my sophomore year so when I wanted to introduce him to my "mother" the first thing she said is why isn’t he black? Why can’t you date a black man? She ignored how old he was {22} but focused on his race.

·         11th grad I was in all Honors and AP classes and whenever I got on the computer she would cuss me out just to do it. My home work was all done, she wouldn’t let me leave the house, my sister wasn’t home, and I just wanted to get on the computer and she had no logical reason to keep me off on a Friday Night. My dad stepped in and she threw another temper tantrum and stormed off like a child.

·         Whenever we went to church people would ask me what I was going to do after school, I’d tell them and she would interrupt me and start talking about how my sister is going to Spellman after she graduates.{she was a sophomore at the time}

·         During choir at church when we would sing, she would always compare me and my sister and how we sung. How I was always quiet and my voice was shaky and I didn’t sound strong and loud like my sister.

·         She let her son live in the house. He’s a child molester and found nothing wrong with that. We got into a fight one day because he was looking at child porn on the computer and one of our neighbors came over to use the computer and a pop up came up. I told her that he can’t use the computer, she got mad and we start arguing back and forth. I and my father told her that if they find that on the computer we will all be in trouble and get everything taken away. When I told her I'm locking the computer and he can’t use it anymore she grabbed me by the throat and pushed me against the wall and told me it’s not my computer that he can use it if he wants to.

·         Senior year of high school I had principals honors and a 4.0. That wasn’t enough for her but she couldn’t pinpoint anything else to focus on.

·         When I bought her tickets to see my play she said she didn’t want to go.{she’s off on weekends and only work 15 hours a week}

·         She told me that I couldn’t go to my senior prom because they didn’t have the money for a dress or a limo. After I told them don’t worry about the dress or a limo all I need is money for the ticket. She told me they didn’t have the money, they had to pay the taxes on the house. My senior prom I spent cutting grass while everyone else was getting into their limos.

·         Two years later my father told me that my mom told him that I didn’t want to go to my prom. When I told her I never said that she tried to lie on me again and my father caught her in a lie and cussed her out for taking my prom from me.

·         I had my senior awards at night and couldn’t go because she wouldn’t take me. She asked me if I could find a right to my awards ceremony because she doesn’t feel like going {my dad was at work}. So I didn’t go, I ended up hanging out with my ex.

·         She tried to not let me to go senior week but my dad stepped in and gave me the money to go.

·         When I had signed up for Nursing that fall she tried to down talk me into being a medical assistant because she said it would be easier.

·         That summer I was raped, she wasn’t concerned about anything. She didn’t ask how I was; the first thing that came out her mouth was what did you do now. Then she asked me if I needed her to come to the hospital with me. What mother asks her child if she wants her to come to the hospital after being raped? Her and my sister tried to make excuses saying she asked that because of my attitude I had at the time. So what does my attitude have to do with a mother being at the hospital with her daughter again?

·         After my dad retired, I was paying for everything in the house because he had no income coming in at the time. I worked between 40 and 50 hours a week when I was 18 years old. As soon as my foot would hit the door step she would start screaming, wash the dishes, put the food up, this was all before I had walked into the house. If the dishes weren’t done by the time she wanted them done, she would cuss me out.

·         When I moved back home for the last time it only got worse. I had  paid off her car (it’s my car now) and she would let my sister drive wherever she want and she didn’t have a curfew. I was 21 and she gave me an 8:00 curfew on when I should have her car back.

·         My sister was failing English her senior year and got 2 proms, they brought 2 set of senior pictures with her and let her retake her pictures. I didn’t get a prom and I had to take my senior pictures with the cut I got from my ex on my face.

·         While I was pregnant she would always smoke in the house and around me until I started choking one day.

·         When I went into labor with my daughter she didn’t move, she didn’t ask if I was ok. My husband’s mother beat us to the hospital so she was in the room with us. My "mother" showed up 3 hours later and left because she couldn’t be in the room so she didn’t feel like sitting around in the waiting room all night waiting for me to have the baby.

·         She didn’t come see my daughter after she was born but only one time.

·         About 6 months after I had my daughter she commented on when I was going to lose my stomach and poked at the little bit of baby fat I still had from having a baby.{My "mother" is bigger than me}

·         Now that my daughter is older, she calls her thighs thunder thighs and says she has nappy hair. I stop her right there and tell her that if she ever says those things about my daughter again, she won’t have to worry about having a grandchild.

·         When she buys any types of gifts for me, she always buys the exact opposite of what I like. Shell buy gold earring and give them to me, knowing that I only wear silver and when I tell her I don’t wear gold shell say oh I didn’t know, she’s been saying oh I didn’t know for 20 years now.  And then she’ll take them and be like well oh I’ll take them then.

·         Shell buy clothes for me for Christmas that is 2 sizes too small and be like oh I thought they would fit.

·         My dad would give her 600 to spend on Christmas gifts just for my husband and sister’s boyfriend and well write down their sizes and everything and shell come back with a $10 pair of bed room shoes in the wrong size and claim that what she was looking for was too expensive(one year it was 2 regular long sleeve shirts, something you can get from Wal-Mart)

·         She'll buy my daughter boy clothes and say they were cute so I picked them up. Or shell buy sizes too small and again claim well this is the only size they had. She bought her socks in a size 6, my daughter is 17 months old

·         Ill cook something for  myself and shell go in there and eat it and be like well I didn’t know it was yours while she sat there and watched me cook it

·         Whenever we have a problem or do our "group" talks, it’s always my mother and sister against me. Until my husband steps in and they back down.

·         No matter what wrong she does in the house, everyone keeps making excuses for her. My father wanted to keep peace at all costs meaning I should just suck it up and continue to deal with the emotional abuse because she’s my mother and she’s always been selfish and she won’t change.

·         I tried to talk to her about what was bothering me in the past and she said she didn’t want to talk about it. Told me to my face that my feelings didn’t matter and that I was lying about what she did to me.

 You don't have to wait for someone to treat you badly repeatedly. All it takes is once, and if they get away with it that once, if they know they can treat you like that, then it sets the pattern for the future.

I’m just so irritated annoyed and ready to go home. I feel so much more stressed out now than before I came here. Since the fight with my mother who out right told me that my feelings didn’t matter and that she didn’t care how I felt I decided to let her spend time with my daughter and to give her a chance until the end of the year. Which now I know that she’s never going to change and you know what, I’m ok with that.

I was talking to an older friend last week who knows some of the situation between me and my mom. She tried to tell me that my mother loved me and that parents say and do things to make their kids better. That my mother lacks emotional connection (I’m thinking in my head, what does that have to do with knowing what’s right and wrong) and she doesn’t know how to express herself. That she’s mean to me because she doesn’t know how to show her love for me so she plays it out the other way. She also tells me that I can’t live a whole life without my mother that the bible says to love our parents that we have to respect them no matter what they say or do because they are our parents. We then talk about her experiences and how her partner is. How she treats her bad but shes not going to leave, she just ignores it.

This is when you notice the generation gap. The difference of opinions and really understand how you are supposed to be treated. I don’t believe in the MYTH of every mother is a good mother deep down inside. I believe that people make choices to do the things they do. That everything is done for a reason. I don’t believe that you should have to put up with abuse just because it’s your parent. I don’t give a damn if it was the pope and he was emotionally abusing you, you have the right to protect yourself from that person.  By any means nesseciary with in the law of course.

That is what’s wrong with the older generation. Yes they have taught us morals and values and have showed us many priceless things that the new generation of is parents can’t but when it comes to children and their feelings, they have failed. I have realized that most children who were born in the late 70s to mid-90s have this problem. Out parents do not pay attention to our emotional needs. They pay attention to how we are doing in school, what’s going on with us, what we are up to but when it comes down to it, they don’t pay attention. And I do understand but when you ignore a child’s emotional needs it affects them all the way up to adult hood. It affects their personal life and their future family life also. It affects their children and grandchildren. Having a healthy emotional boundaries and feelings are a necessary part of life. I feel as though everyone has the right to one.

So when people make excuses for other parents you are only holding us back as a new generation.  They are only coving up a bleeding wound. It’s like they accept that their parents hurt them, they look at it as oh well they were trying to help me be a better person so I’ll accept it and leave it as that. They don’t look at it as it being wrong. What they are really saying is yes your mom said she didn’t care about you but she had a hard life. And our generation is like I understand that she had a hard life but what does her hard life have to do with how I’m feeling? The whole process of it all doesn’t make sense because if our generation can see what’s going on and change our behavior so that we don’t expose our kids to what we went through, why didn’t your generation do the same thing? If someone is calling you stupid all the time and you don’t like it so you ignore them but you walk past a couple when another person is being called stupid but you don’t say anything.  YOURE CONDONING THE BAD BEHAVIOR. How do they expect us to stop the cycle if they are only adding to the problem?

It is important to remember that rape and sexual assault is NOT the same as consensual sex/making love/being intimate with someone who cares about you. Rape is about having your choices taken away. Being intimate with your partner is something you can choose to do or choose not to do. You can ask your partner to stop and he/she would stop. You may find that some positions may now seem frightening to you and you may feel you want to use positions where you feel more in control over what is happening. If you are with someone who cares about you, loves you, respects you that is entirely different from a man who is abusing you, who has no care or respect for you. An intimate relationship with someone you care for and someone who cares for you is entirely different from forced sex. Abusive sex is someone hurting you, having power and control over you, consensual sex is someone you choose to be intimate with, someone you are caring for and someone caring for you.

I feel like a failure as a wife and woman.

This sex therapy is so much harder than I thought it was ever going to be. So yes I am healing and yes it kind of is working but it hurts. It hurts because it seems like no matter what I do I just can’t get it right.

I have so many problems sexually I don’t know where to begin. When I think I’ve fixed one problem, 100 more appear with no solution. After going through the sexual experiences I have encountered and my feelings towards them I was shocked.

I’ve always associated sex with being raped. I had no feelings or attitude towards sex because I never had it before I was raped. With nothing to compare it too besides my own feelings and what people tell me it’s supposed to feel like I was lost.

I didn’t know how to react, I knew that there were a lot of feelings and emotions that I was having that I liked but was also afraid of because I couldn’t control them. There were a lot of feelings I couldn’t stand because it reminded me of being raped. Finding out what my triggers are, going into details about the rape, the smells, sounds, what was in the room really opened up my eyes.

I learned that I still cannot be intimate whenever I want to. That I’m confused about the sexual feelings that I do have.

Unless I’m 100% sure that the feelings I do have are real and not just my past messing with me, I don’t act on them. I don’t act on the feelings because I know I wouldn’t be able to be intimate with anyone in a healthy way. Now I’m starting to understand how my feelings affect my sex life. The sex dreams I have all the time, it seems as though it’s the only thing on my mind and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing but I feel disgusting because of it. I feel disgusting for wanting sex, I feel embarrassed and I don’t know how to talk about it. Like I guess I never thought that being molested or raped would ever effect anyone this much or this deep.

I have a problem with controlling sex. I have a problem with my feelings towards sex and how I act out on them. I’m doing things that are only hurting the progression I’ve made.

I masturbate all the time if I had the chance. I do it so much because it just feels like all this pain is inside of my body and it just hurts when I can’t get it out. The pain feels like my vagina and pelvis is on fire from the pain and there’s nothing but pins and needles and my stomach starts to cramp up and my who body feels like it’s been hit by a mac truck. I masturbate to the point where it doesn’t feel good anymore.

It’s really painful but it lets the bad feelings about sex out. Afterwards I’m usually embarrassed and disgusted with myself but I don’t have anyone I can relate to. I just want to have a healthy sex life. I don’t want to feel bad about sex again….

"The last thing I want to be known as is 'The Girl Who Got Raped'. The big turn around you make in your head is from victim to survivor."

He’s crying out my tears for
The past 9 years…..


Every time it pours it rains
And every time it rains it
Floods.


I’m always that one person at
The top of the highest land mark
Waiting for everyone to
Go by.


Always waiting to not be saved……
©Golden Rays

 Even the happiest, strongest, and most optimistic of people have moments in life when their strength falters and their smile fades away

I feel as though he has taken my secrets and pain and cried again for me. He took that hurt and held it for me. He held me when when I thought I was walking through this world alone. He took all that hurt and emptiness and cried it out for me.


I saw the clouds roll in and the pain fall from the skies. I felt the earth relax and let go of gravity for just a second. The dark clouds. Smeared make up. Circles and no where else to go or to turn to.


The winds hold me tight as the clouds roll over my soul. Stealing away everything I held on to I exhale and fall to a new death.

There comes a point when you have got to stop relying on other people to make you feel okay.

 

My dad isn’t coming back. I’m in shock right now. I’m scared, I really don’t know how to feel or what to say right now so I guess I’m going to start from the beginning.

Today is that anniversary of my rape by my ex. 9 Years ago today I had my virginity stolen from me. I have everything ripped apart and to this day it still has never fit right back in the pieces the same way again. So I’m home alone today for the first time since it happened. Every year I have always worked all day on this day and this is the first year I’m coming at it with an open mind and heart. Bu I can’t handle that issue right now because I’m still trying to deal with that my father will never wake up and the mother I never had.

 As if this could come at a better time right?

So the day my dad went into the hospital because of the minor heart attacks he had I broke down and cried. I cried so hard I couldn’t breathe and I remember my husband saying, it’s ok, he will be ok.

When we got there he looked normal, acted like himself, still being funny and sarcastic and loving. He wanted to get out and go home and when I looked him in his eyes I just had this unsettling feeling like it was only going to get worse and he looked at me as if he was saying I’m tired. When he left the hospital, they said there were only going to keep him for two days; I just had this bad feeling and couldn’t brush it off. Nothing I did could numb the upcoming feelings I had. Which I think is why it hurt me so fast. 

That night the nurse told us he coded 3 times, that we need to hurry up and get there because they don’t know if he was going to make it. We sat in the waiting room for hours in pjs, still asleep, scared and worried (when I said we I meant all of us including my 13month old daughter). That date was March 17, 2012. So we went back home and everything was blurry, they called us up to the hospital several times a day that whole week. By that Saturday March 24( my birthday) he had went into a coma, that Tuesday we went up to see him because later on in the week he had to have triple bypass surgery.

I guess I knew that from the first heart attack and from what the doctors were telling us I knew he wasn’t going to make it. He eyes told me that when we were in the first hospital. I kept it all inside because I didn’t want to say anything and take away everyone else’s hope of him coming back.

At the end of April I remember looking into my dad’s eyes and seeing him telling me to let him go.

My dad was the only person I kind of had on my side. I don’t have a relationship with my mother anymore. The only contact I have with my sister is cordial or concerns my daughter or things like that. The reason why I don’t choose to have a real relationship with my sister is because she acts like my mother so much. I don’t feel like I should have to deal with someone like that who is constantly hurting you on purpose.

I feel like I’m breaking down because my dad isn’t here anymore. It’s hard just knowing that he isn’t coming back.

It means remember a time when you did not have the power to protect yourself. It means remembering your shame, vulnerability and pain.

"Not having that little girl in your life means that you have lost something. You have not had access to her softness, to her sense of trust and wonder. When you hate the child within, you hate a part of yourself. It is only in taking care of her that you can really learn to nurture yourself."

So in this healing process i have decided to start from the begining of it all. Lately i have been jumping all around trying to put the pieces back together and ive found out that its just not going to work out for me if i do it thisi way. So as painful as it might be, I'm starting over from the start.

Because of everything that is going on with my "mother" and daughter, I found this to be bring back flashbacks of emotional abuse from her and feelings that I had after I was molested. After years of trying to figure out what I had did wrong, why didnt anyone protect me, I realize that none of it was my fault. My "mother" knew that I was molested and she knew who had molested me but she did nothing about it. I had to find this information out from my sister when i confronted her about it. But then again there was no logical reason why I should really trust her on issues like this because all she does is back my mother up in ever single circumstance. "Mother" can do no wrong, shes God of all Gods.

I knew and understood fully at a young age that no one in my family would protect me. My "mother" being the Malignant Narcissists that she is did everything in her power to tear me down to the ground to her level. She wanted to have absolue control over everything I did, from what I ate, what I wore, to the way I wore my hair to the music I listened to and why I had chose that particular type of music.

At the age of 5 we were walking home from my elementary school(I was in kindergarden at the time and the school was maybe a 10 minute walk from my house) and she had my hair cornrowed with beads on it. While we were walking I had flipped my hair back over my shoulders with my hand(everyone else in my class was doing it so I guess I must have picked it up from there). She completely flipped out, she told me that I wasnt a little while girl and only little white girls flip their hair over their shoulders like that. And that if I ever did it again she was going to cut all of my hair off.

Really was that reacion really nessicary? I was 5 and who cares how I flipped my hair, I WAS A KID. To get so hostile and threatning over a flip showed me her true colors. I knew at 5 that she was a monster. I think it was about a month later i had started being molested by an older boy who rode the bus with me. I didnt tell her a thing. I remember one time she asked me if anyone had touched me and I told her no. Why the hell would i want to tell her someone touched me in my privates? She threatned to cut off my hair because I flipped it, who knows what the hell she had in store for me if I told her this.

The molestation went on until I was in the 3rd grade. He never raped me or made me touch him but he always had his fingers inside of me and for some strange reason he would always rub them together and smell them. Every time he did that it made me sick to my stomach.

I had to take a break from writing this post just now because it brought back so many other memories that I have not delt with and that I had pushed back just to continue to life. Ummmmm....Im actually at a lost for words right now.....

I bought the book, "The Courage to Heal" by EllenBass & Laura Davis. It is a really good book and has helped me deal with being molested, i have been through some of the chapters already but its just so much information that its taking me a while but thats ok too.

I guess i never really thought that being molested would affect my life but it has. After I was molested I had became so quiet, shy and emotinal in school that alot of times I couldnt concentrate with anything in school. My grades were never the greatest even though i knew the work like the back of my hand, i was too busy working on trying to keep the memories hidden so that no one would find out. On top of my grades falling I didnt have that many friends in school. The only person who wanted to play with me was the boy who was molesting me so I tried to cling on to the other kids and would always cry when no one would play with me because I didnt want him to play with me because of what he did. My teachers would send notes home from school saying that I was crying in school again. My "motoher" being the type of "mom" that she is, never asked why i was crying or if anything happyened that made me cry. Her only response was stop being such a cry baby. You would cry if you were molested too. I was 5 and no one cared.

My dad was always working and my sister was younger. It was always them against me. I never was the person my "mother" wanted me to be and im so happy of that. I would hate to be living a life like hers. I have enough anger, sadness adn pain in my life without someone elses. I feel as though if someone is wrong, they are wrong, there are no ways of going around it or justifiying it either. I dont believe in keeping peace at all costs or protecting someone who is hurting your child. Excuses are not a subsutitue for an "apology",

so thats it for me for now. Hopefully by monday i will had a list of everything shes done wrong when it comes to my childhool and compare that with the happy moments.....

And this empty lonely feeling hurts a little bit more then heartbreak.....

 Its been a long week for me. I have so my posts that I have saved on my phone that I need to up load. I’m only writing right now because I just pulled an all nighter helping my husband with his project for school. So while I’m looking for a certain picture on the computer I see the picture of my uncles funeral, it was a military funeral because he was in the Navy just like my dad. The shock just hit me  and reality slapped me in the face reminding me that my dad is still in a coma and he might not wake up. I think I’ve been living this whole time pretending he’s on a really long vacation but in my heart I really do know the truth.

I cried when I saw that picture, I didn’t think about it for a second, I didn’t even have a chance to breathe, a chance to blink before the tears started pouring down my face. I don’t want him to leave me, I want him to be here forever. I know that its not reality but that’s what I wanted. My father is the first man I have ever loved. He’s my best friend, he’s never left my side no matter how many arguments we’ve had or how many times I’ve messed up he stood by me. I already lost my birth mother years ago, well………..I never had her to begin with and I don’t want to lose my father too. I don’t want to go through this world with out my dad, but I don’t want him to suffer either. My heart hurts so bad, like someone just keeps stabbing me over and over again in the same spot, not giving me a chance to heal…… but I know that I have to have faith and my dad would be so proud of  me right now especially since I’m keeping my promises.

I love you daddy, please hurry up and come home:(

Trust me, I know how it feels. I know exactly how it feels to cry in the shower so no one can hear you. I know what it’s like to wait for everyone to be asleep so you can fall apart , for everything to hurt so bad you just want it all to end. I know exactly how it feels.

All of those movies you see on TV about how rape victims behave after they are raped aren’t true. They send out a false image of security as if everything becomes normal again after the attack, like it’s so easy to transition back to life after it happens.

The reality of it is it’s the worst thing in the world to have happen to you. But compared to the physical attack, the emotional and mental battle is so much worse and painful because you can see those scars but you feel them everyday.

Survivors go through the daunting task of trying to find themselves again, they struggle with having the right support there for the healing process as well as if they don’t haven’t support. Dealing with family member who don’t understand or blame you for the attack often makes the recovery harder and longer.

We have fought to stay alive during the attack and now we’re fighting just to keep our mind, souls and spit intact.

Some days it’s easier than others. Then you have days when you just want to give up because the fight is too hard and you feel like you’re always losing.

Virgins who are raped often have no sense of sexuality when compared to a non-virgin (I’m not saying one attack is worse than the other but the affect are different when the woman was a virgin at the time of the attack). When a virgin is raped because they have no sexual experience to compare it to, then the only thing they have is the rape and that’s something that is hard to deal with for anyone.

My struggles is that I was raped as a virgin. I had no sexual experience to compare what sex is suppose to feel like. Someone took such an intimate part of me that it is still harming me to this day. 

One thing he told me that bother me(because it is absolutely true) is “you have to think about weather or not you can handle it. You have to think about weather you can handle it before during and afterwards”. it hurt me because it’s true.  My body is feeling the physicality of it but my mind sometimes does the exact opposite which brought on the panic attacks and flashbacks.

It’s such a long process when it comes to sex. I hate the fact that I have to think about weather my anxiety was high earlier in the day, or if I saw or heard something that reminded me of the attack, or if I do have a flashback that day, being intimate is much harder and more frustrating. I shouldn’t have to have a check list to go through just because some animals decide to take what wasn’t theirs.

I know the flashbacks aren’t my fault and neither are the panic attacks. I feel like it is my fault because I’m the one dealing with them; I’m the one who is suffering. As a wife I feel like a failure because I cant be with him. And the thing is it’s all because of another man and that makes me feel ashamed.


I’m just so angry that I cant get that part of me back again. I’m angry because it feels like all those years of hard work I’ve been doing has been erased and I have to stat all over again……

Where the fuck is my parole board? Where is my hearing going to happen? How many years do I have to serve before i’m free again?

If rape was committed in the per-pubertal stage then it will cause certain difficulty in understanding what sexual intercourse is really about. At puberty, rape becomes the determining factor of how sexual relationships should be. It has a remarkable effect on how the person expects sex to be later in life.

I don’t think I’ve every been so angry in my life. I don’t even know what to say or how to say it….

I don’t feel lost, I feel hurt, I feel like i’m carrying around blame that is not mine to carry but because of its results, i’m the only one who has to deal with them, he doesn’t.

People don’t understand what rape does to a person. They don’t fully understand that after it happens its not over. It could be a situation where a woman is raped, her rapist gets caught and put to jail for life, that doesn’t mean its over. There are so many different  layers that are under it all that it feels like you’re pulling them all the time.

Its such a stressful and painful feeling when you have to deal with the flashbacks and panic attacks especially when you’re in a relationship.

For me its embarrassing. Like how do you explain to someone that they did nothing wrong but you just had a bad moment. And then it gets to the point when it starts to affect your sex life and its not even your fault.

I don’t understand why we are the ones who are violated and put through hell and then still have to suffer through hell in our every day lives. Why we are the ones suffering with panic attacks and night terrors, affecting our spouses, our children, our families. Meanwhile they walk away free of charge.

Its not fair and i’m pissed the fuck off. This whole time I haven’t been angry at any of the men who raped me until now. Now its starting to affect my family and i’m angry. I’m the one having flashbacks while being intimate with my own husband. I don’t see how that’s a fair trade. Like I haven’t dealt with enough pain already.

I’m angry because I feel like i’m being punished for something that I had no control over.  I’m angry at them because I’ve worked so hard to get to this point and now I have to start over again.

I have enough things to read and research on, it feels like everyday week there’s another book added to my library of problems. Sometimes I feel like it would have been so much easier if he would have killed me instead of being toured right now. Some days I feel like I don’t deserve my husband because I think that it would be so much easier if he was with someone with out my problems. Sometimes I really do think that if given the option, most men wouldn’t date rape victims.


Today we were driving to run some errands. And it was warm and sunny outside. I’m sitting in the passengers seat having a flashback because it felt exactly how it did I was raped for the first time. The sun was in the same spot, the wind was blowing in the same direction and the air had the same scent to it. I blinked my eyes and saw my ex and me in his car driving up the road to his house. I had almost lost it until I touched my ring and snapped back to reality.

I don’t like the summer because of everything that happened between us, I
still remember it all…….