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A Survivor Not a Victim

Overcoming Rape

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Rape; A Father Not Caring

I have to admit that I have to find this halarious,  because if I don’t,  there is no way that I can cope.

My father and I have not had the best relationship in my life life.  The past few years it has been better.  He was struggling with family issues and taking care of my grandpa while he was sick  until he passed away earlier this year. Through that struggle,  I was there for him. I would usually call him a few times a week to check in to see how he was doing because I knew he was under a lot of stress.

Then I was raped.  My grandpa died shortly thereafter,  and I have not heard from my father since. There has been a lot of drama in the family surrounding my grandpa,  but all of that has nothing to do with my situation. On my birthday,  which was recently,  my father sent me a  Facebook message saying happy birthday,  he did even call me. My mom and brothers did. Then he had the audacity to get all upset when I only sent him a Facebook  message  saying  happy Father’s day.  Since I have told him that I was raped,  he has not once ask me how I am doing.  I even confided something to him that I never once told anyone,  and he accused me of being crazy like my my brothers ex girlfriend  (which I am not,  and I told him this after I was raped ).

So, to all of you who do not have support from your loved ones,  if they are not supporting you, they don’t really love you.  My mom, brother’s,  and friends (and actually acquaintances  ) have supported me more than my father.  Just like me,  you deserve more in your life than people like that.

Me Being Strong And Brave Is Finally Starting To Sink In

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The above quote has always been a favorite of mine since as far back as I can remember. Since being raped, and disclosing that to people, both people I wanted to , and publicly, before I was ready – in an effort to raise money for The Boston Area Rape Crisis Center (of course it was my choice to do so, but I would have much rather preferred not to) , additionally, having to look for a roommate, they all ask why my roommate is gone, and I can’t lie. While with the roommate situation I start by saying that he was images (24)removed by the court, they always ask why, and I can’t and will not lie about that; for two reasons – 1. I don’t lie…..ever, 2. this is going to be an ongoing court dilemma no matter what way you slice it, that I am going to make sure on, so any future roommate will/could potently find out the real reason. I refuse to be made a liar!

That being said, every single person who has been made aware has said (friend, family, acquaintance, friend I don’t talk with much, or stranger) something along the lines of “That is awful, I am so sorry…xyz…” Now, my next statement is not being made to take away from that. I believe that everyone, even (most) strangers are images (22)genuine with what they are saying. That being said, what I realized today, while speaking with a woman from my local senator’s office was….well, she said(something along the lines of), and there was a preface to this, but,” I think that you are so strong and brave for standing up for yourself, advocating, and fighting for
your self, it is very brave of you and I am glad that you are doing that, and you should keep fighting”.

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This was not the fist time that I have been told something like this. I have been told similar remarks from family, friends, BARCC staff and volunteers, as well as other services that I have seeked out to help me. I don’t know why it has taken this long, with so many people telling me the same thing in different ways (and even the same words) to believe it, but I am finally starting to understand.

Every day I research about rape. I know that so many victims do not come for
ward, fight, or even talk about it…and I know exactly why! What makes me different? Maybe I should credit the person who molested me as a child? Or maybe I am strong willed, or maybe….I don’t know? There is so much stigma, pain and anguish attached with reporting and fighting, but at the same time, I can’t bear what comes along with being silent.  I pass no judgement on what other victims choose to do because I am not in their shoes, I am not them. I support a victim and their right to choose the best option for them…PERIOD! And to hell with what anyone else thinks!!! We are not all the same, our coping is not all the same (mine is not good at all right now), and out individual experiences and life in general is not the same. I get it, why people want to stay silent…there are a million and a half reasons. I images (25)personally feel that it is my duty to do something to help to stop rape in it’s tracks the best I can. I don’t know why, I just do.And I plan to be successful with that or at least improving it before my time on this earth is complete.

I am just feeling so grateful for the support from family, friends, acquaintances, strangers, people helping me, followers and readers of my blog, it is all of you who have been driving my strength that I feel like I didn’t have (oh, and I cannot forget, the undying love and affection and extra everything my two dog’s have been giving me since I have been raped…even though that includes their heightened awareness and stress which has lead to more barking than usual….causing me more stress, but I know that they mean well).. If it wasn’t for all of you…equally, I can honestly say that I would not be here today. And for that I am truly
grateful!

 

 

Hoping This Leads To Something

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So…I have a friend who is very, very politically connected. Up until this point, I have not discussed my rape with this friend. I guess I didn’t even think about it. I mean, I can’t even tell what day it is most day’s.

It was only a matter of time that this friend would discover my recent traumatic event on their own; with all the posts on FB about trying to raise money for “The Walk for a Change” and the fact that I sometimes share posts from this blog on my FB. I also have a link to my blog on my FB.

The other day my friend sent me a message saying that they were sorry and that they had no idea. We discussed. It felt good to talk with this friend, a very dear friend of my whom I love so much.

Today, I received a  message from this person, saying that they wanted to reach out to someone that they know (political connection) but they wanted to know what city I am currently living in, as this person will want to speak with my Senator. Of course I obliged.

Maybe this is finally something that will take me one step closer towards the direction of justice! Either way, after reading that message I felt so happy. Happy that my friend cares about me (I know that I have seen countless others that do, but just to add), and happy that they are in a position to actually help, and are using that!! I am just so grateful! I feelings I felt were relief, even though nothing has even happen, the fact that something could just gives me great hope, and the determination to keep fighting with my head held high! And at a time like this, hope is really hard to come by.

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Story #2 ~ Amelia

#2 Amelia ❤

My father used to come home from work and take a shower. I was 11 years old, watching Hannah Montana on his bed when he came out of the shower and tickled me. He was naked the whole time.

My father was kind of creepy after that, like touching my butt and stuff, so I stayed my distance from him. But, one night, I begged him to buy me some boots that all the other girls in school were getting. I told him I would do anything. He took me into his bedroom and gave me oral sex. I was just 11 years old.

Oral sex happened about 10 times over the next 2 years. He justified it by saying it was how to show me how much he loved me.

My father never had intercourse with me, saying that was something only a husband and a wive did. What a hypocrite! He is no longer in my life.

I’m sorry I can’t say anything positive, but I’m over it and I think that is positive.

Amelia

 

Story #1 ~ Katie

#1 Katie ♡

Almost 7 years have gone by. I blocked out what he had done for 4 years until a memory, a flashback, a realization came in like a flood. And no matter how hard I wanted to, there was no going back. I had to face it. He raped me. He took my virginity and all my innocence. Right in my own bed. There are some things I will never remember. Like the day or days it happened. What exactly was said. But there are many things I do remember. It was right around my 21st birthday. I remember him convincing my sick and over emotional mind that my neighbor was a predator and that he could protect me. I never imagined that the predator would be my friend’s husband. That it was he I needed protecting from. He did everything he could to get my neighbor out of my life. He would spend the night in my bedroom on an air mattress the first few times. And then he sweet talked his way into my bed. And he sweet talked his way inside me. I don’t remember exactly what he said. It could have been something like “I’m going to show you how a real man does it” or “Sex will get rid of your headache.” He never said so, but he implied that he was protecting me from my neighbor so I needed to thank him. He never said it in those words but that’s what he did.
It was soon after that. That I did my last, but serious suicide attempt.
I hated myself, who I had become. That I had slept with my friend’s husband (though now I know it was really rape) and what a deadbeat loser I was. Other factors played into it. And I knew it was time to exit the world, that no one would miss me. I downed probably close to a bottle of Tylenol PM, crying the whole time. I must have gotten scared and had second thoughts. Maybe God reached out to me. Because I called myself an ambulance.
I went to the ER. They pumped my stomach. Stuck a tube right down my throat and just to be safe, made me drink the gosh-awful charcoal to absorb all the poison in my system
After all that, my neighbor came to the ER. He saw the EMT’s take me away and he never felt so sick in all his life. Despite the temporary restraining order my abuser convinced me to get on him, despite everything. He came to see me. To tell me that nothing was worth me dying over.
He stayed with me until I was taken to the psych ward. And he came and visited me every day until I returned home.
We realized we loved each other and didn’t want to live a day without one another. We knew we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.
He used to hold my hand and make me feel safe until I fell asleep. But he never made me do anything I didn’t want to.
I decided that summer, the summer I turned 21 (a few months after my rape or rapes that it was time to get my life together and be someone worth loving. I finally quit cutting, blocked everything out that had to do with him or pain, or my old life. Only moving forward. It was shortly after that, that I received my temporary job trial at the library which ended up becoming permanent. I put everything into becoming a new person. In hindsight, it was probably triggered or set off by the trauma I went through. I had to do anything and everything I could do to forget. Yes, I’d see him, he even showed up at the apartment once or twice. But, I pretended like we were friends and it was normal. I do remember pretending, pretending, pretending. Anything to keep that out of my mind, and my new happy life.
It caught up with me a few years later. I could no longer deny what happened, and that something had to have happened to cause me this much pain and trauma.
In therapy I remember talking about him and what he did and going “it’s almost like he raped me.” And after that it was like “oh my gosh. He did”
So, for the past three years I have been going through what I should have right after it happened.
It happened almost 7 years ago, but feels like it was not long ago.
Now, I’m on the long journey of healing. To finding myself and to forgiving myself. There is no going back, only forward! I have taken great strides and have come so far in my recovery. I still border between survivor and thriver, but I’m working hard to stick with one… Thriving!
I have talked opening about what happened to me with my therapist and close friends and blogging. And while I’ll still be blogging, my goals are to focus less on what he did, what happened to me and how I can actively take back my life, and be the best Katie I can be! I’m also going to focus more on my self care, and be more fair to myself.
My name is Katie, something bad happened to me but it no longer defines me. I’m not a victim or survivor, I’m just Katie.

I Want To Take A Moment To Thank. …

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Anyone and EVERYONE who follows my blog,  comments and or likes my posts!

I don’t even think you fathom how mudownloadch that it means to me, and how much I appreciate you.Even if my blog is something that you have not been through,  I am trying to not only raise awareness,  but heal. So many of you have amazing comments,  insight,  and blogs!  I LOVE IT!

 

All of you maimageske me so happy.And I don’t think that each and EVERY one of you realize how much you have truly helped me,  and continue to help me.I  only hope that I am doing the same for others out there ♡♡♡

 

 

So THANK YOU.  Thank you so very much!  💖😊

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Trying To Find The Will To Stay Strong

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I have had a very hard week. My grandpa died, the funeral was Monday  (actually,  what we had, you can’t call a funeral,  but that is not relevant to this blog ), the family is in crisis because of awful things going on,  and I still can’t cope with my rape.  I am a mess right now,  just a mess. I still can’t find a roommate,  and I am concerned about work because I have missed so much of it. I am a wreck.  The past few days,  I just want to give up completely!

Sitting on my bed a few minutes ago,  I was thinking about all the people who care about me. Who really care about me and that felt good for two seconds  (I will take it!). I have always been the person who can put myself together and focus on the positive no matter what,  but this has not been and continues to not be the case since February and I find it extremely frustrating.

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Then I looked at my two dog’s.  They were both staring up at me with their big almond shaped eyes. They know that I have not been well,  as I can tell by the beyond extra love they have been giving me.  I  love dog’s ( especially mine) because they are so intuitive.  And all they want is love,  and to make you happy.  They have been a big help for me.

My oldest,  has previously been banned from sleeping in the bed for almost a year because he kept peeing in it (he is old ) and he was given chances,  but I couldn’t take it anymore.  A few days ago I was so sad, I decided to let him sleep in the bed. (He loves to put his forehead on my forehead,  especially when I am feeling down ). So far,  no accidentes thankfully.  In fact,  I woke up the other night.  I  sleep in a queen bed.  My old boy is 10lbs,  the baby is 6lbs.  I woke up,  the older one was pushed up as close as possible on my back,  the baby, nestled on my back side in my neck…and I  was on the edge of the bed…..lol…literally.

If I can’t be strong for myself,  I have to be strong for these two. Their undying love and loyalty,  and literally always here for me the way that isn’t possible for any human to be. I’m not saying that to take away from everyone who loves, supports,  and is there for me, it’s just dog’s do this on a completely different level that humans can, and vice versa. I am glad that I have bothgoing for me.

 

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