Blog Archives

Time to start posting again


I am sorry it has been so long since I have posted. I know some of you may have even forgotten about this little blog of mine. Yesterday was 19 years since the first time that I was raped. This year I had to take my hubby to the airport up in Indy so that he could go visit with his family in Georgia. This year I came back home and went back to sleep for a while and then got up and started cleaning house (as best I could with my back injury, which I will tell you all about soon). I had some friends come over and they kept me company. One friend came over and helped me clean…then the others came over and we had a girls’ night and we talked and made Vision/Inspiration boards and we had a good time and I did not feel sad or helpless or lost once. THIS year, I won.

Advertisements

Anniversary day….


This year I had scheduled to take today off of work.  Unfortunately I ended up missing two days of work for being sick and was not able to take the day off because we were really busy here at work.  Today I have been trying very hard not to feel this feeling and these feelings.  Today I have tried very very hard not to let the past ruin the day and not to let myself see that day again over and over again in my head.

See the thing is, even though it has been 18 years today, I can still remember exactly what I was wearing, what we had for dinner, all of the events leading up to and following what happened.  And I cannot shake it.

Today I am listening to Tori Amos and knowing that I am not alone.  I am trying very hard to not cry today.  Today is really hard for me.

I am sorry to everyone for not being here and for not posting like I had intended.  I have been having a hard time with this day coming and now with it being here and I really think that I can go back to being better after this.

Silent All These Years makes me think of my childhood….and what happened….and those feelings I cannot shake….

Big News!!!


I have officially booked the room for the first three support group meetings!!! My business cards should be arriving soon. I also ordered post cards to post around town. I am really feeling like this is finally really coming together. I am nervous but really excited. I cannot wait for the meetings to begin. My husband keeps saying that I am going to end up as someone with a lot of influence. Whether I do or not this feels like such important work. I just wish that I had more time to devote to it!

OVER IT by Eve Ensler.


This is copied from the Huffington Post site.  This article was not written by me.  This was written by the brilliant Ms. Eve Ensler.  I read this and had to share it with you guys.  I am over it too.  I agree with the OCCUPYRAPE part.  Countdown to Vday 2013.  I will be sharing this with my support group when it gets started.  We are getting closer to that time!

 

I am over rape.

I am over rape culture, rape mentality, rape pages on Facebook.

I am over the thousands of people who signed those pages with their real names without shame.

I am over people demanding their right to rape pages, and calling it freedom of speech or justifying it as a joke.

I am over people not understanding that rape is not a joke and I am over being told I don’t have a sense of humor, and women don’t have a sense of humor, when most women I know (and I know a lot) are really fucking funny. We just don’t think that uninvited penises up our anus, or our vagina is a laugh riot.

I am over how long it seems to take anyone to ever respond to rape. I am over Facebook taking weeks to take down rape pages.

I am over the hundreds of thousands of women in Congo still waiting for the rapes to end and the rapists to be held accountable.

I am over the thousands of women in Bosnia, Burma, Pakistan, South Africa, Guatemala, Sierra Leone, Haiti, Afghanistan, Libya, you name a place, still waiting for justice.

I am over rape happening in broad daylight.

I am over the 207 clinics in Ecuador supported by the government that are capturing, raping, and torturing lesbians to make them straight.

I am over one in three women in the U.S military (Happy Veterans Day!) getting raped by their so-called “comrades.”

I am over the forces that deny women who have been raped the right to have an abortion.

I am over the fact that after four women came forward with allegations that Herman Cain groped them and grabbed them and humiliated them, he is still running for the President of the United States.

And I’m over CNBC debate host Maria Bartiromo getting booed when she asked him about it. She was booed, not Herman Cain.

Which reminds me, I am so over the students at Penn State who protested the justice system instead of the alleged rapist pedophile of at least 8 boys, or his boss Joe Paterno, who did nothing to protect those children after knowing what was happening to them.

I am over rape victims becoming re-raped when they go public.

I am over starving Somalian women being raped at the Dadaab refugee camp in Kenya, and I am over women getting raped at Occupy Wall Street and being quiet about it because they were protecting a movement which is fighting to end the pillaging and raping of the economy and the earth, as if the rape of their bodies was something separate.

I am over women still being silent about rape, because they are made to believe it’s their fault or they did something to make it happen.

I am over violence against women not being a #1 international priority when one out of three women will be raped or beaten in her lifetime — the destruction and muting and undermining of women is the destruction of life itself. No women, no future, duh.

I am over this rape culture where the privileged with political and physical and economic might, take what and who they want, when they want it, as much as they want, any time they want it. I am over the endless resurrection of the careers of rapists and sexual exploiters — film directors, world leaders, corporate executives, movie stars, athletes — while the lives of the women they violated are permanently destroyed, often forcing them to live in social and emotional exile.

I am over the passivity of good men. Where the hell are you? You live with us, make love with us, father us, befriend us, brother us, get nurtured and mothered and eternally supported by us, so why aren’t you standing with us? Why aren’t you driven to the point of madness and action by the rape and humiliation of us?

I am over years and years of being over rape.

And thinking about rape every day of my life since I was 5-years-old.

And getting sick from rape, and depressed from rape, and enraged by rape.

And reading my insanely crowded inbox of rape horror stories every hour of every single day.

I am over being polite about rape.

It’s been too long now, we have been too understanding.

We need to OCCUPYRAPE in every school, park, radio, TV station, household, office, factory, refugee camp, military base, back room, night club, alleyway, courtroom, UN office. We need people to truly try and imagine — once and for all — what it feels like to have your body invaded, your mind splintered, your soul shattered.

We need to let our rage and our compassion connect us so we can change the paradigm of global rape.

 There are approximately one billion women on the planet who have been violated.

ONE BILLION WOMEN.

The time is now.

Prepare for the escalation.

Today it begins, moving toward February 14, 2013, when one billion women will rise to end rape.

 Because we are over it.

Just because you are paranoid does not mean that they are not all out to get you


Now don’t get me wrong….I do not feel this way now.  I have in the past, though.  Randomly, out of the blue, I would just start feeling like everyone was talking about me.  Like they were all out to get me into some sort of trouble.

I know what you are thinking (see still a bit paranoid)…You are thinking “This chick  has lost her mind!”

What you might not realize is that I am not alone.  As a survivor of a crime perpetrated by someone that was a friend/aquaintance/love/partner it is not uncommon.  I have found, through talking with other survivors, that we do tend to have a bit of paranoia going on.  Some would even say “A healthy dose of paranoia keeps you safe.”  But when is it too much?

I, personally, have had times when I felt like I could lock myself away from the entire world because I couldn’t trust anyone.  I know that this is not a healthy dose of paranoia…this is more like OD’ing on paranoia.

I would like to invite you all to open this discussion up.  I would like to have an open dialogue with you, my readers, to know your thoughts on this and share my own.  I feel that it is important to openly communicate on this one.  I think we could learn alot from each other.

Love and light,

Lucky

How am I feeling now?


Well I am glad that you asked.  I am actually feeling pretty good.  I am sorry I have not posted a lot lately.  Things have been CRAZY busy.  The month of October usually is.  I finally finished my son’s blanket (which is fracking awesome!).  I have started saying Frack a lot instead of Fuck in an effort to curb the cursing.  I have gotten put on new medications which will hopefully take care of my lower regions medical woes and get me back to feeling better.  I am going onto a new med which should facilitate weight loss (YAY!) and the world seems to be looking up.

I have been doing a lot of house cleaning the past few days.  I spent 4 hours on laundry last night folding, hanging up, putting away, washing, drying….blah.  I have been doing dishes more regularly and making myself be up and moving around cooking and whatnot when I get home so that I don’t get as stiff. 

I am still looking to start that support group.  Any ideas on flyers or posters?  I am going to a retreat with my hubby next month for survivors (our anniversary weekend) and am hoping to get some good information there.

I did miss my cultural sensitivity training from INCASA.  I had to go to the dentist.  Actually, the first time in 13 years.  Pretty good though.  Only 3 cavities.  I knew I had periodontal disease but we are getting that treated and working towards keeping my teeth in my mouth where they belong.  So far so good.  I am glad I finally decided to go.  I don’t know why I was so scared to.

Anyways, I am going to try to get on here more to post about relevant topics to this blog.  I just wanted  you to all know that I did not forget about you.  I appreciate each and every one of you.  I keep getting more and more subscribers and followers on twitter.  I feel blessed to be doing something that can help make a difference, even if only to one person.

Please give me ideas for posts.  If you would like to see me write about something, let me know.  You can either leave it in a comment here or email it to  me at whereismyreallife@gmail.com and I will try to write about every topic I get.  I will also give credit to the requestor.

Thank you all for reading my blog.  Thank you for being there for me.  Thank you for letting me be there for you.

Love and light,

Lucky

P.S. I have recently realized that somehow after all that has come before in my life, my rose colored glasses do seem to be pretty much still intact.  Some small cracks and some days I cannot find them, but for the most part I win.

A letter to my 15 year old self


Dear Sweet Little Girl,

I know that you are hurting inside.  You feel like everything you thought was a lie and  no one cares about you.  You feel like that boy that promised you forever…the one you should not have gone out with and should not have given yourself to… has turned the whole world against you.  I want you to know that you are not alone. I want you to know that you will grow up and yes, you will face hardships, but you are going to be ok.  I wish that I could go back in time and hold you like you wished mom would have done.  I wish that I could make it ok for you to tell her what she witnessed instead of letting her think that it was what you wanted too.  If they ever invent a time machine I will do that, but for now I can just tell you that I love you and that it is ok to cry.  It is ok to feel let down by all of those who you trusted to protect you and who didn’t.  Know that you will meet someone who will make you feel ok again.  He will make you feel loved and he will guard your heart.  He will not be your forever but he will help you grow through this.  He will help you through much sadness and teach you about joy again.  You will meet good and bad people along the way.  Know that there is a reason in everything.  Do not ever let them steal your light and your life.  Know that I am here for  you and I love you.  I love you because I am you.  Looking back at you I wish that I could have done better for you when I was there.  All I can do for now is tell you that I know you and I know your heartbreak and I will never let you down again.

Love and light,

Your 33 year old self

 

 

It is strange the things you remember….


Like I remember that the night that Chaun raped me I was wearing a pair of navy blue stirrup pants and a grey Georgetown Bulldogs sweatshirt.  I don’t know why I remember that…but I do….

Does anyone else out there have minor insignificant details that they remember when other things just seem to be lost to you?

Delving deeper into the past….When you meet a wolf in sheep’s clothing, how do you know?


Recently I have been given the opportunity to help someone who is going to be giving a talk to forensics students.  She will be giving them information on how forensics is so very important in real life.  I offered to share my story with her.  In doing so, I made an offer to delve deeper into the way that a 15 year old girl went from virgin and trusting to dating and being molested against her will to ultimately giving this boy her virginity and then finally being raped by this boy who she thought loved her.  This is going to be a very emotional post.  I apologize ahead of time if any of this doesn’t make sense.  I am going to do the very best I can to keep it together and give it a good flow.

When I was 15 we moved to Terre Haute, Indiana from Cincinnati, Ohio.  I was going into my sophomore year at a new school and was worried about not knowing anyone and being the “odd girl out”.  I had never really had a lot of friends.  I was kind of the girl that everyone picked on for a long time.  When school started I was pleasantly surprised to find myself in the center of a group of friends that had known each other for a very long time.  They accepted me in and made me one of them.  Things seemed to be going wonderfully.  That fall I was dating this guy…this really sweet, nice, good looking and semi rich guy.  He was so great but I did not have a “spark” with him.  While I was going out with him, another guy asked me out.  This guy smoked, listened to rock, was a real bad ass.  I, of course, dumped the nice guy for the bad boy.

The bad boy was risky.  He was dangerous.  He was from a poorer family.  My family was reasonably well to do.  We dated for a while.  I remember going to the bowling alley where my parents were on a league.  I remember him sitting behind me as I did my homework.  I remember him putting his hands up my shirt and me pushing him off and him doing it again.  I remember asking him repeatedly to stop.  I remember him trying to put his hands down my pants. I remember the guy at the library who saw and instead of helping me, he just leered lewdly and I couldn’t make the boyfriend stop it.  I remember him telling me how he just loved me so much that he couldn’t keep his hands off of me.  When you are 15 and some guy tells you how much he loves you, you do not think to question it.  You do not think that there is possibly another reason for him to say it.  I was learning how to be a woman but I didn’t even really know what that meant.  We went out for a while.  I can’t even remember how long it was.  I do remember that my brother asked us to come in his room and I couldn’t get him to leave me alone.  My brother left the room and when he came back in my boyfriend had his hands down my pants.  I was trying to get him to stop but he wouldn’t.  My brother still gives me hell about this even 18 years later.  He makes me out to be some kind of wanton whore.  He was too little.  He didn’t know what was going on and I couldn’t make my boyfriend stop.  I didn’t know what to do.  I didn’t have anyone to tell me that this was wrong.  I didn’t have anyone that I could talk to without judgment.

At Christmas that year he asked me to marry him.  I thought for sure that I knew that this was the man that I was going to be spending the rest of my life with.  In January that year my parents were going to a concert and I agreed to let him come over.  We had decided that that was going to be THE night.  It was over before it started.  I barely felt anything at all and he did not bother trying to make me feel good.  A few weeks later we did it again and it was just as bad.  I thought that I would not ever like sex because it really wasn’t as great as people made it out to be.  Then that fateful night happened.

February 16th.  His 16th birthday.  We went out to dinner with his parents and a few of our friends.  My mom had made a cake for him for his birthday.  We got back to my house and he and I went upstairs to watch TV in my room.  We were watching TV and he asked me if we could have sex.  I said no.  My family was home and I couldn’t take that chance.  I told him that I really did not want to.  I told him that if we close the door mom and dad will get mad.  I do not remember how it happened but somehow he ended up on top of me on the floor on the opposite side of my bed from the door.  My mom walked in and thought that we were just having sex.  I didn’t know how to tell her that it was not what it seemed like.  I did not know how to tell her that I did not want to have sex but he made me do it.  Then she called me a whore, a slut, a bitch….pretty much everything but a white girl.  Making me feel like I was worthless.  Making me know that I was nothing.

After this happened I went to school the next day and I told our friends what had happened. The bad thing is that they were OUR friends.  Exactly 2 of them believed me.  Out of a large group only 2 believed me.  This made me feel even worse.  I was to the point where I was seriously considering the fact that the world would be a much better place without me.  I never reported what happened.  I did not believe that anyone would believe me.  I didn’t know if I even believed me.

There was a friend who did help me out and did make me feel better and showed me that I was worthy and I was worth more than what I believed.  This friend, who ended up being my boyfriend for almost 2 years , saved my life.  He was there for me when I lost the baby that resulted from the rape.  He taught me how to accept physical love again.  We did not end up being together for life but I do have him to thank for saving my life and I am grateful.

I will write more later.  I am too emotional to continue writing right now.  Love and light to you all.

Transitions


You know how you sometimes reach a point where you know that something transitional is happening?  Where you feel like something big is coming that will make it all worth it?  Like you just KNOW that everything will be ok all of the sudden? 

I am at one of those places. I don’t know how I got here….I think that writing this blog and getting/giving support has been a major part of it.  I think that starting counseling has been part of it too.  I also think that contacting INCASA and looking to get involved there is going to be a big part of it too. 

I don’t know exactly what is going to happen but I know that it is going to be great.  I have this feeling that I am just waiting for this amazing thing to happen.