The tears pool into her eyes, Not knowing next what may materialize. As they cascade down her thin and pale cheeks, She gazes in the mirror at herself wondering exactly where she has been these last few weeks..? Is the damage done and unrepairable?

    Jul. 28th, 2004 at 7:06 PM

In a so called world of justice that we live in, all of a sudden the word no is not enough. It’s pointless and doesn’t mean shit to the man on top of you talking away your dignity or the police who are investigating the crime. According to the police in Prince Georges County, for me to charge him with rape, I would have had to resist him more. Which I didn’t, in other words, he would have had to beat my ass to get charged. What the fuck?

I was raped Monday night. Right now I just feel sick to my stomach. I could have prevented it, that’s why I feel so sick. I should have looked at what was going on around me at the time but I didn’t, I was too drunk to realize any of this. His name is Banky. We were supposed to be going to green belt mall which is in Pg. County but first he told me we had to go to his house so he could change he told me he had a lot of people over so I didn’t feel like anything was going to happen. I was on the couch and we were just watching TV. With his roommates sister and her friend. That went on for an hour. He takes my hand and he leads me to his room. We just lay on the bed and looked at pictures of him and his friends. He was laying on the bed and I was sitting up. He went and talked to one of his friends. He came back in the room and kissed me on my neck then he asked me if I wanted to go to the store with him to get the Hypnotic and I told him yeah. So we went and go the drink and came back to his room. He told me I wouldn’t get drunk off of it. I sat on the bed and two of his friends came in the room with us. I don’t remember his roommates name but his friends name was Z.

 Banky set on the bed beside me, z sat on the other side of Banky and his roommate sat in the chair with a mirror in it that was right across from the air conditioner. His roommate asked if I mind, he had weed in his hand, and I told him no. Banky poured the hypnotic in a blue plastic cup and I drank it. It didn’t taste like anything but kool aid. So I told him I was going to finish it, since there wasn’t that much in the bottle anyway and I wasn’t feeling drunk or anything.(i had been drinking jack and hard liquor months before the hypnotic so i knew it wasnt going to get me drunk) He and his friends were talking passing the blunt around and Banky had some. After they were done he started kissing me and I kissed him back. He was on top of me touching me and kissing me everywhere and I let him do it to me. He performed oral sex on me and I let him do that too because I wanted it. he picked me up by my hands and pulled me up and took off my pants, I held on to his shoulders and that’s when I told him that I didn’t want to have sex with him. I laided back on the bed and I was on my side facing him. He was kissing me, the next thing I saw was he held a condom up but it didn’t register in my head what was happening. He climbed back on top of me and I could feel his penis against my leg, that’s when I tried to move but I was too weak to do so. I kept saying I don’t want to have sex but it was like he was zoned out. He put it inside of me and I had started screaming yelling no but he didn’t stop, this went on for 15 minutes. He got off of me when I started crying. he said, “Tarina, why are you doing this?" he got off of me and I put my clothes on, while he put his on I sat against the wall and cried I want to go home, that’s all I could say. We walked out of his bed room where his roommate’s sister was sitting on the couch watching TV. We sat in the dining room where we had a conversation that was written on a napkin. I felt so sick about what had just happened and about how sick I was feeling about the drink.

 I layed on the bed and cried, all I said is I want to go home. I don’t remember the second time that well, I remember him taking my pants and panties off and I didn’t do that much resisting because it was going to happen anyways. I just screamed that’s it, hoping he would stop and about after 10 minutes he did. We had to wait for his roommate to come back with the car, he took me home. I got home around 2:00 in the morning. The first person I called was Will. He called the police and everything for me. I didn’t change, shower or brush my teeth; I knew not to do that. The cops arrived and told me I would have to call pg. county police because it was out of his district. He got over to my house in like 20 minutes. We called pg. county police and we had to go up there to get the statement taken and everything. We got up to the station around 3:30 and the officer arrived at 5:00. At 5:35 I started writing my statement, it took me two hours to do this. The officer called me selfish because I didn’t perform oral sex back on Banky. After the questioning, he told me no isn’t enough to charge him with rape, he said I would have had to resist more and that there might not be enough evidence to charge him. After all the shit I’ve been through that night he might still be able to walk free. He took me to the hospital and that took about 4 hours, I had to get a rape kit done, which hurt so bad.  I finally got home at 4:45 Tuesday evening.

This whole thing could have been avoided. I should have sense that something was wrong; I wasn’t paying attention when I should have. First of all I should not have been drinking with men, which is something I swore I would never do but I did and I got fucked up in the end. Second of all when he performed oral sex on me I should have known that he want sex or oral in return. Just because I trust him it doesn’t mean he’s not like every other man. All men want sex and what man is not going to want something after performing something like that? He turned up the radio before he raped me that should have clued me in that something was going to happen. It was so loud that I don’t think his roommate’s sister heard me when I screamed, and I was screaming loud too. When he lead me to his bed room I should have told him no but I don’t know why I didn’t. Obviously he wanted sex; he knew he was going to get it that’s why he led me to his bed room. Right now I’m kind of ok. I still feel sick as hell. Last night I couldn’t go to sleep because I felt him on top of me. I couldn’t even sleep with the lights on. I would jump at every little noise. Last night I had a nightmare that Banky called me and said that if I didn’t drop the charges he would kill me. Then when I was going to sleep I saw him with a gun in his hand and that’s when I woke up from the dream. it’s like I jump every time the phone rings, he’s called three times today but my mom picked up, I’m scared that he’s going to come back and really hurt me. I can still feel him touching me. And my whole body is sore and I didn’t mean for this to happen.

I lay in my bed, with tears streaming down my face As haunting memories take back to that painful place Feeling his hands touch me Waking up to nothing, hoping these memories will just leave Always hiding from that something that’s never there Caring a burden that I can no longer bare Terrified to tell anyone About how my so called friend, did what he had done..........

  Jul. 30th, 2004 at 8:15 PM

Last night I didn’t get any sleep at all. Someone from his house called my house at 11:44 p.m. and hung up. It scared the hell out of me, I was in the guest bed room at the time which is across the hall from my room and I was scared to leave. It took me like five minutes just to go out and see what was happening. I checked outside the dining room window and saw that no one was there, it was a big relief but I still didn’t feel safe in my own house anymore. the little noises that the house use to make scares the hell out of me now, like little creaks and bumps in the floors makes me paranoid. it feels like someone is watching me and I just have this really bad feeling that something bad is going to happen if I don’t do something fast and quick.. But I have a feeling that it’s going to be one of his friends that hurts me not him. Last night I went to bed at 5:00 in the morning and I fell asleep around that time, I woke up again at 7 and checked the house to make sure no one was in it but my mom and sister; I went to bed and woke up at 9. Finally I went to bed again and my mom woke me up at 11. I haven’t been to sleep since but I’m just really tired, I have bags under my eyes, I tried to go to sleep after I finished typing my resume yesterday afternoon but I was too afraid of going to sleep, I’m scared that when I wake up I’m going to see his face again. It makes me sick just thinking about what happened. I called the detective to check up on my case but it turns out that it was transferred to some other guy and if I didn’t call today I would have never found out. I called again that day and they wouldn’t give me the number where I could reach the fucking detective at which really pissed me off. Finally I called for the last time and there was no one who could answer my question so I was transferred over to the detectives voice mail where I left a message. He is supposed to be back Monday afternoon around 7 p.m. now what I don’t understand is what’s going too happened between now and then? Fuck I don’t even know if they arrested him because it seems like no one is able to answer that question. Did they send a cop over to check the scene of the crime? I went into detail about where everything was and the position and what he did and where he put certain things after it happened. By Monday everything could have changed, he’s not that dumb to keep everything the same. Of course it’s going to make me look like I was lying and that it was just consensual sex. Which it wasn’t. The odds of me charging him with rape in the first place are against me. Damn he had to beat my ass for it to be rape and since I didn’t have any bruises, it’s not rape in their eyes, no wasn’t enough. What about me? Everything is on his side I don’t have anything now. It’s my words against his and by the time the god damn cops decide to get off their lazy asses and do something it will be too late. Honestly I don’t want to have to deal with this but in some sense it’s making me stronger. Finally because of this, I know exactly what I want to do in life. I’m going to be a registered nurse and work with rape victims. No one should have to go through this shit ever but it’s going to happen and I know that. Every two minutes another woman in the United States is raped. That’s not going to stop. I’m going to help other people like me. But first I have to help myself and I haven’t gotten to that point yet. I feel alone for some reason. Sometimes it feels like I’m going to break down and cry but that’s not going to do anything for me. my head hurts a lot and it seems like I’ve been getting frustrated with a lot of people, even my own dad and most of the times I’m not like that around him. I feel bad because I’m taking my anger out on my family and I don’t mean to do that.



 I don’t know I still don’t believe that this has happened. The places he touched me, it feels like its burning. My chest hurts and my back is hurting me worse. I’m really sore in my private area and swollen, it just seems like this is never going to end. Going out in public is that hardest thing ever. It seems like every man is looking at me like they want something. It’s like they are undressing me with their eyes and its making me sick. I went to burger king with my dad yesterday and there were three men sitting together and they were starting at me the whole time and when I walked by I felt so sick, I felt like I was going to throw up. I don’t even want another man to look at me again; it just makes me so uncomfortable.  Today I called the police back and I found out what little I could about my case. Nothing has been done. I even talked to the supervisor of the station and he said to his knowledge they haven’t sent out a cop to Banky's house and they haven’t arrested him. By now all the evidence is gone and basically there’s no hope for me now. It was already my word against his and now there’s no evidence on his part. Wow I didn’t report the last rape because of this reason. I didn’t think the police would do anything about it so when I finally open my mouth to say something look at what happens. Well I’m not going to let it happen to anyone else, this stops here and now.

I fell in the dark, with no one to hear my cries, reaching out my hand to YOU but you weren’t there. It is in the darkness where my soul played tricks on me Allowing me to think I was truly alone, voices told me how I was the lowest form of life My womanhood had been questioned beyond belief, and my self-esteem was shot to hell.

August 8, 2004

I think about how I could avoid it every day. I know how people say it’s not the victims fault but I don’t think that’s true. Take my situation for instance. I I went over to his house in an area I wasn’t familiar with. I went to his bed room with him. I got drunk and I let him kiss and touch me where ever he wanted. Hell I even let him perform oral sex on me. I didn’t want to have sex with him. That never changed. I didn’t fight back hard enough to make him stop. It’s hard when your body feels limp and lifeless.

The clues were there the whole time but I didn’t pay attention to them. The drink, the bed room, him turning the music up louder. Now that I think about it, nothing in my head went off. I didn’t have a bad feeling or anything like that. Usually I can tell when I man wants something. It’s just something that goes off in my mind that tells me that. When I was sitting on the bed, he didn’t touch me at all. We were just looking at pictures and talking about our friends. It wasn’t anything more than that. On the way there he was talking about his daughter and about how he was going to take her to chuck-e-cheese that Thursday on his birthday. I told him I was raped before; over the phone I told him this.  He just wanted to be my friend that’s it. Nothing went off in my head, no warning sign nothing.

This was my fault. I had several changes to get out of the situation but didn’t. All the sings were there from the time I got to his house but I ignored them. I didn’t think and now I’m paying for it.

I don’t want to talk about what happened to some therapist. I don’t even want to think about it, what makes you think I want to open my mouth and say something? I’ve been through enough already with the case that’s going absolutely nowhere. I did the right thing, I told someone what happened but it seems like I’m the one being punished for the crime.

I know the detective though I was lying about the whole thing. The first thing that came out his mouth was some girls lie about rape, I’m not saying you did but some do because they had sex with someone else and have a boyfriend and feel bad about sleeping with the man. I knew after he said that, it was over. I didn't have a boyfriend, i wasn't seeing anyone. My bestfriend took me to the hospital. Being called selfish for doing something I didn’t want to do is a lot worse. It has been two weeks and the DA hasn’t even heard about my cause.

Questions run through my mind about why nothing has happened. Why weren’t the cops sent over to collect evidence? And why after 5 days of contacting the detective, the DA hasn’t heard about my case? This sounds really stupid but maybe it’s because they think it’s a waste of time. Why should they spend their time on a case that’s pointless? The girl is lying is what’s going through their mind and we don’t have the time or the patience when we could be working on a real case.

If I would have known this was going to happen, I would not have said anything. What’s the point if nothing’s going to get done?

I swear I want to forget about this whole thing and just forget about the case. He’s already won and he knows that. But I won’t. It’s not about me; it’s about every other woman he’s going to come in contact with in the future if I don’t stop him now. I can barely deal with the guilt of how I let it happen to me. What if he rapes another woman? How I can I live with that knowing that I could have stopped it?

Personally, I want him and my ex-boyfriend dead. Men like that shouldn’t be able to live after doing such a thing like that. But that’s not my decision to make. Whatever happens, he will be punished in the long run. God will take care of him when his judgment day comes even if the police won’t deal with it now. See Karma will come back and payback’s a bitch.

Now all I have to do is just hold on, easily said than done. Paranoia seeps into my mind. The fear of seeing him in my room is something I deal with every day. I’ve only been out the house 3 times for a fear of seeing him. Just the thought about what happened makes me nauseated. Constant headaches and loneliness are just the beginning.

My sex drive is gone. I don’t want it, and I don’t watch it on TV. a year’s hard work was taken away in 15 minutes because I didn’t pay attention to what was happening.

Keeping the lights on is the only way to know he’s not thee. Sleeping seems impossible now. I’m scared because I see him every time I close my eyes. Sometimes I stay up all night because it’s so hard to go to sleep so I usually wait until 5:00 because by then its light outside and nothing is going to hurt me. I go to sleep but wake up only minutes later sweating gasping for air only to realize that it’s just me, alone in my bed and he’s not there.

It’s just mind thing but I don’t know if I should even mention these things. I don’t want to scare anyone off because of this. I’m not crazy it’s just hard right now. I don’t want to be judged by anyone, I just want to make it go away.

Let us Pray for those that were Damage with the Devastating Anger of Mother Nature

July 16, 2004

Eighteen years old, but she’s a wise child for her age. Some might even say mature before her time. It’s been two years since he came into her life. One since her life as she knew it was stolen away from her. She now knows that she needs help and she’s getting it.

This is the only want to move on. She didn’t know she had to start from the beginning. Suddenly her ‘’mature” mind disappears and the frightened little child in her appears. Not knowing what to do or how to handle the situation, she hides.

Little does she know if she keeps this up, she’ll be hiding forever? Hiding in the past, she’s unable to look forward to her bright future. The frightened child hides in the corner of her empty heart afraid to move. She never saw the future or the sun tomorrow will never come for this lost angel.


July 30, 2004

Everybody expects me to be strong. I can only hold on for so long before I start to fall apart. All of this could have been prevented. I would have to say most of this is my fault, but there’s no need crying about it now. It’s done and over with. Once again I have to start over because of one stupid mistake.

I’m scared to walk around my own house, I feel like he’s here watching me. Just plotting his next move. I jump at every little noise, my heart starts racing and then I see him. Well at least I think I see him. I’m afraid to sleep in my bed with the lights off. I keep seeing him on top of me. It doesn’t stop, he doesn’t stop.

I feel like I just want to break down and cry but I’ve been holding everything in for fear of weakness. The worst thing is the public. I’ve been out the house twice now. Every time a terrifying experience. I see men looking at me. The thought of what’s going through their minds is sickening. Their eyes wounding over my body violates me.

I just want to get away from the pain. I feel alone with no one who understands how I feel. This journal is my closest friend right now. It won’t tell me I have to get over it and forget about what happened and it won’t ask me why I’m crying.

I can’t stand the skin I’m in. I can’t stand the feeling of my body anymore. I just feel so used. Every day I feel nauseated by the thought of that man on top of me. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up again. I’ve thought about leaving but the gun is in my parent’s room and I don’t know where the bullets are. With one on to understand and talk to, I look for other ways to ease the pain.

Taking a knife from the kitchen, I hope its sharp enough to cut through the dead skin. The harder I press into the skin, the duller the blade becomes, I can’t take it anymore so I just place heat upon my wrist. Sitting there smelling my burning flesh against the heat. Knowing that I’ll get no satisfaction or relief from the pain. I stop and look at the damage I caused.

I hate the way I feel when I touch myself. Even taking a shower is hard. It’s not my hands I feel, it’s him. I hate sex and I don’t like watching it on TV. it makes me feel sick. I’m scared.

This has just begun and I feel betrayed by my mother and the system. I was lying on that cold table legs up in the air. He is outside because he can’t be in there with me. She never bothered to call to see where I was of what was happening. I just wanted her there, I was so scared and I wanted her there to comfort me. But she wasn’t. I never said anything the first time because I was scared no one was going to believe me. I told someone. I sat in the police station for two hours while the detective called me selfish for not performing oral sex. In the hospital for three hours while being looking at. With you outside and my own mother not there to hold my hands. I sit here knowing that my screams and cries of no and stop and repeated attempts to make him stop don’t mean shit.

They haven’t done shit. What the hell are they waiting for? No cop was sent out to his apartment and while he’s out there walking free, I am a prisoner in my own mind waiting for justice to be served.

Radiation can’t fix my cancer I get blamed for my cancer I’m ashamed of my caner And I wish my cancer would Hurry up and kill my mind Since my body had already Been destroyed

Stolen

I was in school with him from
Day one until graduation
He was there even when his presence
Wasn’t known.

Because they hurt me, he touched
Me, they forced me and it felt
Like my spirit was stolen from
My body.

So many times I wished there was
Someone out there like me.

Because it kills me to pour
My soul out on a piece of paper.
It silences me to try to tell a
Story that most people will ignored
But that one person will speak up
And not voice anything

©Golden Rays

Virgin Mary

I cried tears of blood last night
And no one cared why

I screamed at the top of my
Lungs last night and no one
Heard my cries.

I sat alone thinking why was i
So stupid. I opened up and was
Gutted like a fish.

I’m still holding on, still fighting
For her, for me, for you.

And no one still knows why….

©Golden Rays

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention guidelines tell us it is a public health epidemic, with one in four girls and one in six boys being victimized before age 18. Pennsylvania alone has more than 3.1million victims. Nationally, it is more than 49 million. A child today has a greater chance of being sexually abused than of being in an automobile accident or breaking a bone.

Honestly sometimes I really don’t know why I even bother doing this crap anymore. Some days I wonder why the hell am I wasting my time writing and posting and spreading the word on something that people just close their eyes to. Some days I feel like just being normal. Waking up one day without having to check my schedule to make sure I don’t miss my therapy secessions. I cry about why I’m wasting energy writing in this blog.

My feelings are hurt. I’m feeling really emotional right now. I just understand how and why so many people ignore what’s going on. Especially those who I thought were close to me, who I thought were a part of my support system. I think that the more I open up my mouth and talk about it, the more people I push away and I think that’s what hurts. Like everyone expects me to be quiet about it and not say anything without regards to my feelings. But then again if I can push you away that easily by speaking the truth, then you weren’t a real friend or a support system to begin with.

I don’t want to deal with this anymore. The only advantage to speaking out and saying something is that maybe someone else will listen to you. Maybe you can help another victim get through the process or even educate someone who didn’t know anything about the topic. I do wish a lot of times that I hadn’t said anything, that I only told on person and that my family and friends never knew. I feel like I’ve lost a lot of people (especially my family) by speaking out. I don’t know if the pros really do outweigh the cons especially when you have nothing to show for it.

I’m drained emotionally; it takes a toll on me. I just keep fighting and I keep getting knocked back down and I can feel my inner demons trying to come back and find me. This is how being raped made me feel. I felt like I was to blame. I was the one who had a drink, I agreed to go out with him and according to society, and I played a part in my own rape. According to them, I should not have had a drink with him, I should not have went out with him, I should not have been lying in bed with my boyfriend because everyone knows that’s how you get raped, by cuddling in the bed with your boyfriend. Damn now if that’s how you cause your own rape to happen then that would mean that every married woman has been raped because before she was married she did lay in bed with her husband cuddling………

How much logical sense does this make? I’m really starting to grasp the concept of there’s no one in this world to protect us but us. There’s no written law to officially protect any victim of rape from being raped. Hell a man can still rape his wife here and not go to jail because she’s his property.

For the past 20 years I’ve had different men had control over my body. I’m just now getting back the feeling that no one can control my body but me. That no one has the rights to my body but me and now some pathetic excuse for a man wants to tell me that if I get raped and get pregnant I have to carry my rapist baby? That if a 13 year old girl gets pregnant by her father, uncle, brother she has to have their child. That there’s no way a woman can get pregnant from a legitimate rape because a woman’s body has a way of shutting the whole thing down. A man is telling me that if I’m not forced down and don’t have any bruises it’s not rape. That if I don’t say no, it’s not rape. That if a 34 year old man has sex with a 17 year old girl that it’s not rape because the age of consent is 16 and 17 is legal and statutory rape applies to 15 and younger.

I’m pissed off and angry. This is really happening people; I don’t want anyone telling me what I can and cannot do with my own body. It’s none of their damn business and they need to butt out.

Talking about it doesn’t hurt, it’s the rejection, the victim blaming, the talks, the politics, the ignorant comments, stares and snares that you face every day that hurt. I’d rather quit and do something a lot less stressful but then I think about how I was feeling when I was looking for someone to turn to. I had searched the web up and down looking for another black woman I could talk to about being raped and about being molested and for years I couldn’t find one or a website of one who is openly talking about it.

I think about my daughter. I’ve been raped enough times so that she shouldn’t have to go through what I’m going through. Everything is out in the open and up front. Everyone’s feelings are on the table and no one is looking down to see them. It’s like that big pink elephant in the room that everyone’s ignoring. I do understand it’s a sensitive and still a taboo subject to talk about BUT ITS REAL. It happens all the time, every day, minute and second of the hour.

Closing your eyes and turning your head does not stop that woman from being raped

And it isn't just about you and the way your body responded either. It may also have been one of the repertoires of dirty tricks rapists use to get their victims to feel responsible. Diana Russell writes that "Some rapists think they're lovers" and tells us:(These rapists) think that if a woman is stimulated in 'just the right way' she will enjoy it. The conquest may seem more important if the rapist believes he has turned the woman on physically, particularly if it is against her will. Getting the victim to respond physically may also alleviate the rapist's guilt feelings.

I feel so disgusting right now. I don’t really know what’s going on with me or even how it happened but I feel like I’m having a minor setback. Through everything I’ve been through the past 2 weeks I’ve made such good progress with deal with panic attacks and flash backs and the anxiety.

When Banky raped me we were kissing and I let him perform oral sex on me which was so disgusting. He had finished smoking before he did it and to this day I’m not too sure what he was smoking but when he performed oral on me it burned really bad. It was painful even when I had to have the rape kit performed. So to this day oral sex is a really sensitive subject for me but  I am comfortable with it as long as I’m calm and relaxed.

About an hour later my anxiety goes up and I feel like I’m losing control over my emotions. I wanted to crawl in a hole and just cry my eyes out. The first thing I felt was Justin’s fingers inside me, after I dealt with that feeling the next thing I felt was Banky performing oral sex and then Frank holding me down and raping me. I dealt with the flashbacks and didn’t freak out but it felt like it just kept going around in a circle and wouldn’t stop.

Like my body felt like it was being violated over and over again and I can feel them touching and grabbing and I smelt every sent and my body just feels so worn out. I couldn’t even lay down in my own bed by my husband and feel comfortable. I felt like my body was betraying me and I couldn’t control it. My vagina and anal area is still throbbing and I just feel so disgusting and dirty and tainted. I know that I not but that’s how I’m feeling. I just feel so uncomfortable in my own skin, I just want to peel it off my body and find a new skin, something that’s not so dirty.

A hot bath would feel wonderful but I just feel so nauseous and so out of control. I just want to be able to relax. I feel disgusting because while I was being raped I was wet, I didn’t have any control over it and I know that it’s nothing that I did but it just feels so bad……..

Making love, having sex, being intimate. Whatever you call it, it can be a wonderful thing. Don't let rape rob you of the chance to have genuine happiness in your life. Choose to reclaim your sexuality, without abusing it yourself, and move on with your life. Be happy, take time to love yourself, stay safe.

“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.”

So I’ve made some progress. After the break down last week I had let go of a lot of things I was holding on to. Like the rapes, abuse and being molested. When Justin molested me it took away my childhood innocence. I had lost that special place that no one was supposed to touch and I knew that no one was supposed to touch me there. But ever since Justin started to molest me, my privates would always hurt and I couldn’t explain it. After I had my daughter( I have a vaginal birth) I tore and needed stitched for the second time(I had stitches from a rape years ago) and I remember laying in the hospital on my side crying because my anal area had hurt so bad. It wasn’t from the stitches per se but I kept feeling like someone had put something in my rectum and I couldn’t get it out. It didn’t hit me until earlier this week that I was having body memories of Justin putting his finger in my rectum when I was 5. I never really understood that everything was connected to each other as far as emotions and feelings.

“Separating rape/abuse and sex
It is important to learn to separate rape/abuse and sex. Healthy sex is nothing like the violation you experienced, and in working on your sexual healing and rediscovering your likes and dislikes; you can learn to differentiate the two. The actual acts may be the same, but that is where the similarities end.

This task can become complicated, as many non-survivors connect rape and sex, so their perceptions become skewed. Survivors may worry that others are judging them for wanting to become sexually active, or that the assault must not have been “that bad” if they are able to enjoy sex again. Some people may even openly question a survivor’s desire to engage in sex after rape or abuse. As difficult and wounding as these types of comments can be, it is important not to let them interfere with your own views and desires. You are entitled to healthy sex, and no one can tell you how to feel.”

When it came to sex, I always felt dirty and nasty. I felt like I wasn’t deserving of anything but pain because that’s the only thing I was used to. After being raped and abused for so long, it’s so hard to get used to being treated with respect. I had no emotional connection with the act of sex but pain and Frank along with Banky and the other men. It’s a hard concept to grasp, knowing that you have the right to your body and no one else does. It was hard for me to accept that I can say no to sex now. That I don’t have to do anything that I don’t want to.  The Vaginismus makes it that much more difficult, especially when you do want to be intimate because the anxiety and fear of sex made my body go on danger mode and my vagina would close up.

So this is where my journey begins. I had to take back what Justin, Frank and Banky took from me. I am so determined to thrive from this instead of bouncing between victim and survivor. Right now I’m in Sex Therapy and working around the issues that makes me so anxious about sex. It’s going really well so far. I understand how my body is connected to my past but also to my mind.

I went and bough Ben Wa Balls for kegel exercises and so far its helping me relaxes a lot more. Ummmm…………. Sexually I feel so free right now. I don’t feel like I’m being pressured to do anything I’m way more open about what I want and what I like and what I’m willing to try. It’s like I have control over my body and I don’t feel like it’s in danger anymore.

SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF ALL THIS I LOST NO I HAVEN'T FOUND WHAT I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR, I'VE BEEN TURNING OVER ROCKS, PICKING UP TREES AND MOVING TRASH, THE POINT IS I'VE GOTTEN MY HANDS DIRTY JUST IN SEARCH OF WHAT I WANT, AND WHAT I NEED. THEN REALITY HIT ME THAT WHILE I WAS GETING MY HANDS DIRTY, AND MY FELLINS BEAT-DOWN, THE LIGHT WAS, IS, SHINNING IN MY BIG BLIND BROWN EYES.

Omg I’m craving Chinese food so bad right now but anyways I just need to vent right now. It’s nothing in particular; my real post will be made on Thursday or even Wednesday. But I had a break down Saturday night/ Sunday morning. It started when I was in the kitchen and then I came into my room and everything just hit me. I had laid down to try and get some sleep but couldn’t so I got back up and went outside to relax.

I was sitting in our porch chairs and was just looking at my dad’s car and got really mad, infect I was pissed off to the point I wanted to blow the house up. The anger had turned to pain and then it turned to tears and that’s when I couldn’t hold on anymore. I sat there and cried so loud I thought the whole neighborhood could hear me. I sat outside for 2 hours crying and talking and confessing and crying some more. I really don’t know what happened that day but it was different from any other type of break down I’ve ever had. It felt like something was being pulled out of my body when I was talking and crying. I had talked to God again for the first time in about 10 years. I talked to him and he talked back to me. I had talked to my dad and told him how sorry I was and that I’m trying to fix everything I messed up. He forgave me and told me it was ok to let him go and that everything was going to be ok. After I had talked to my dad God told me to have one last cry and that’s when I went into the house, layed down and put on my dad’s play list and cried. But it wasn’t a bad cry, it was a relieving cry. While I was crying I wasn’t feeling any pain because there was none left inside me. The pain from the rapes, molestations, and abusive men even the pain from my family turning their backs on me left. I had no feelings towards my mother but feeling sorry for her.

It was a really scary thing for me. I’m typing right now and I really doubt that I will pick up another book on Narcissists unless it’s about leaving them and healing. It’s like I don’t care why she did the things she did to me it’s in the past and I’ve hit my letting go point. I will always keep that information in my head to protect myself but I’m done wasting energy on her. She’s just not worth it anymore and neither are the people who hurt me and don’t care. I forgave Banky, Frank, Justin and the two people (who I don’t know their names because I was unconscious) who have hurt me. I believe that if I continue to call them my rapist or the boy who molested me then they are still holding power over me. And those days are long gone.

I wasn’t living as a survivor before; I was a victim trying to survive. I had let everything that happened to me take control of my life and my mind. And that was my fault, not anyone else’s. I had stayed being a victim because I was scared, I was scared to live because for so long I had to deal with the pain and that’s all I knew, and that’s all I was used to. But after a while that life eats you up to the point you’re breaking down and you’ve hit your rock bottom. Which isn’t always a bad thing. My rock bottom helped me to realize and understand that I have to be responsible for my own actions, that I can’t control other people’s actions or responses. That no matter what anyone else says to me, it’s up to me on how I react to their ignorance. And I’m seeing this now especially with my mother. Ever since the break down she’s been doing things around the house just to see if she could get a reaction to me. And she hasn’t yet, so now she’s being nice to me and the only thing I can feel for her is sorrow. I really do feel bad for her but that’s not my problem so I’ve just been smiling lately.

Ever since it happened I feel wonderful. I feel so free and it feels like a bourdon has been lifted off my chest and heart. Before I had the breakdown I wanted to kill myself because my dad was dying. I kept listening to songs that I knew would make me cry because I couldn’t figure out another way to get the hurt out. I was grieving but I was letting the grief control my life and that’s why I’m at my bottom now but it does feel good to have the chance to build myself back up the right way.