Thursday, May 23, 2013

How I became me...the dark chapter...

If you know me in real life & I haven't trusted you with my innermost secrets (which is pretty much everyone, with the exception of a few close friends), your best bet is to stop reading. If you choose to continue, I'd like you to know this: if I haven't spoken about this to you, at least cryptically, then I probably don't feel safe talking to you about you should just keep your mouth shut about what you read here. Unless I bring it up or you share (or have shared) my bed it's none of your fucking don't mention it to me...and damn sure don't run your mouth to other people because it's none of their fucking business either.

Which reminds me, there is likely to be a lot of foul language & rambling in this post. This is hard for me to put out there so, if I self-censor or edit, I will never wind up hitting send. So...with all that out of the way...

I just finished having a conversation with a good friend about what is missing from my blog...the part of me that I don't put out there...

I generally don't speak about it unless it's to help others who have survived similar situations. I posted about it a couple of times in my old blog, but ended up deleting the entries because it was just too hard to have that out there. In fact, don't be surprised if this one disappears. However, I'm going to try this as a means of taking control over it.

Right now, I am just past the anniversary reaction & starting to level out emotionally. I'm hoping that this, although difficult, will ultimately be empowering.

Ok, enough stalling & bullshitting...

People often ask me why I so stubbornly disagree with the "everything happens for a reason" platitude. The answer is simple: There are things in this life that are worse than death & I don't believe that any just God would cause them to happen as part of some grand plan. Even taking the concept of God as a given, I cannot accept that such horrible cruelty would be part of a divine plan, unless the deity was some sort of sadist. Quite frankly, a sociopathic God scares me more than just accepting the fact that, sometimes, the reason is simply because human beings do terrible things.

I don't believe that we are defined by the things that are done to us, against our wills. However, I am not naïve enough to believe that they don't effect and shape who we become. We may find a way to turn the negative into a positive, but it still affected us, didn't it? I'm not trying to stall, here, I promise...I just have a lot of thoughts swirling & I'm sorta letting it free flow...

So...what happened to me, you ask? What made me become the compulsive, paranoid, remarkably empathetic & overly logical person that I am?

A few weeks after I turned 14, I was raped & tortured by a sadistic sociopath. What he did to me is nobody's fucking business, but I will disclose that it continued on for hours. At a certain point, I realized that, if I didn't let him know that he was hurting me, he couldn't keep his dick hard. So, I would stop fighting. Then he would stop raping me & find other ways to hurt me...but at least I could disassociate enough to make that more manageable for a while. At moments, I wished he would just kill me like he threatened to. At others, I tried to not piss him off to that point because I didn't want to die. There have been many, many moments since that day that I wished he would have just killed me. That would have been far more merciful.

To cover his ass, he made a point to tell many people in our small town that I had consensual sex with him (not sure how that was supposed to explain my injuries but, whatever). Believing his threats to kill me, if I told anyone the truth, & knowing that he stalked me at some points after, I just let them believe whatever they wanted. Some people were smart enough to realize what had likely happened, others preferred to spread the gossip. From my perspective, being labeled a whore was better than people knowing the truth.

After that, I became sexually active as a means of control. It not rational, certainly. However, to me, having consensual sex was a way to feel empowered...I was the one getting to decide what I did with my body, rather than having sexual acts forced upon me.

I also started drinking & popping random pills, as well as self injuring. It wasn't until I almost killed myself by huffing that I realized how much trouble I was really in. So, I asked my parents to get me some counseling. I had issues & I didn't know how to deal with them. My request was refused. I was later raped, at the age of 15, while too intoxicated to fight the man off. It goes without saying, that this didn't help improve things any...

So, with no appropriate tools to help navigate what I was dealing with, I continued my coping mechanism...which eventually formed into compulsive behaviors. I won't spend much time on the psychological theories surrounding addiction/compulsive behaviors. However, I will say that I have managed to learn how to control most of my compulsions. I won't deny that I still feel the compulsion to drink, or self injure. If I don't, my anxiety sky rockets. Generally, though, I make a point not to drink if I'm feeling that way...and I don't self-injure, with the exception of a few tattoos & piercings. As for compulsive sexual behavior, I no longer engage in random or unsafe sex. While it's not necessarily a good thing, I do have the ability to separate emotion & have completely casual sex...not that I have much time for sex at all, since I have 5 kids...but the reality is what it is.

After all these years, the only time I have compulsive thoughts are when my PTSD is triggered. I hate to label it, but it's the simplest way to describe it so people know what I'm talking about. I spent many years dealing with flashbacks, but these days they only come in the form of night terrors. It's been quite some time since any somatic symptoms have appeared, but I continue to be hypervigilent & paranoid. So...things have improved...but I'd be happy if it all just disappeared.

Just for the curious...the psycho is dead. I remember when I found out about his death. At first I was numb...then I became deliriously happy about it (which actually disturbed me a little)...then I became angry that I didn't get to be the one to send him straight to hell. There have been many moments when I wished that I had killed him...especially when I learned about some of the victims that came after me.

So...that's why I do some of the things that I do that puzzle people. It's also why I have such empathy for people and always look at the underlying issues that cause their behaviors. It's why I understand how Lil Sis feels when she has nightmares, even though she can't tell me what she had been dreaming. The reality is that it doesn't matter what she dreams...what matters is helping her to feel safe & empowering her to cope with the things that have happened to her.

So...don't pity me...don't patronize me with things like "sorry those things happened to you" ...don't tell me how amazing I am to have overcome so much...don't do any of that. What you should do is find a way, every day, to make this world a better place. Give grace to others when you can but never feel guilty for defending those that need it. We are all human, none of us are perfect...but we damn well could all do a lil bit better...and we should at least try...


  1. I'm glad that you are able to get this out and share. It can be very cathartic.

    I love this "Give grace to others when you can but never feel guilty for defending those that need it" and hope that I can live my life like this every day.

  2. Is there a way I can email you? I need to bounce some thoughts off you. If not, that's ok. I know I'm a total stranger. My email is in my profile.

  3. The blog email is