Epic rant- or perhaps more of a plea (and it ain’t pretty)

“Trigger warning* I haven’t held back all that much (and why the heck should I?)

 

Shiiiiit week.. completely shit. In flashback and body memory hell for a few days now. They are hitting in waves- I get a few hours at most between them. Plus lots of other stuff too- pain, anger and all manner of unwanted feelings. YUCK.

 

Therapy helped some. Advice, encouragement, some changes to goals, etc etc. 

I also had a lot of validation today too. The thing is with this being plunged back into the past, all the guilt and shame and self hatred is very close again. It’s easy to get sucked back into downplaying and minmising. It was a relief to have validation today. 

Because this was real. It is real. My T said it must feel more than a reminder, it must feel like the Police, the government and even the general public are speaking to me personally- saying all the things I heard back then and have dragged around with me for so, very long. 

It feels personal. It makes me want to find the Police sergeant who yelled at me, to tell him what his actions (or lack of) left me in. To make him see how he contributed to my guilt and then left me with it. I want him to know that he was one of the reasons I was left to be abused for 7 years. That his arresting and then releasing my abuser, not only increased the severity of my abuse, but sent the message to my abuser that he could get away with it and pretty much told me “you are on your own”. In fact, worse than that “you are on your own and it’s all your fault”. I wonder if he would sleep soundly at night, if he knew those things. I am not sure if any answer would provide me any comfort right now. How many individuals could I ask those questions to? Would it change anything?

 

How did this happen to so many people? Why was this done to so many- I don’t just mean the abuse- the response? It’s too close, it is so damn triggering.

The victim blaming, I’ve known for so long, is so real now.. it’s like being 14 again. And the memories, the trauma.

God, the brutality. 

I feel raped again right now- still. I wake up each day, and feel raped. Violated. Used. Again. Wasn’t I used enough back then?

Fucked over by too many people. I know I have to face that, but in my time- like I was doing- in control and at my own pace. The aim in therapy is to never, ever, feel like it’s happening all over again. Well it does feel that way. Like it’s being done to me, all over again. 

Fucked by my abuser (and yes pun (heartbreakingly) intended), fucked by the system, fucked by everyone who should have known better and who should be protecting teen girls, not blaming them and shaming them. Apparently teen girls don’t matter. Apparently I didn’t matter and that’s how it was and how it felt.

I don’t matter and that’s how it feels right now. I was raped- who cares? I was a teen- a girl, who apparently, should have magically known better- who should have some how preempted the grooming and the abuse and put a stop to it. Just a teen girl, who was supposed to have the power to influence the actions of a grown man. My fault, for being a girl, for having developing breasts and a vagina. My fault for enticing a man who just couldn’t resist the pull of an inexperienced, clueless, virgin. How dare I think I was more than just an object? How dare I think that as a teen girl I could possibly be worth more than a set of holes to be conquered and claimed and used?  How stupid of me, to think that I was going to be rescued from what society had groomed me and every other teen girl to be. I don’t matter.

I don’t give a shit what others say- this is a mans world. And I am so sick- physically sick, at the abuse of girls and women. We are not lesser people, we are not born to please men. Animals are treated better than women- what kind of world are we living in? Please, God, I beg you to help end this. I can’t do it, I just can’t- but someone, actually a lot of someones, have to. No one should have to feel like I do in this moment. I was last raped just under 10 years ago and right now it feels like 10 hours ago- no one should have to be violated and no one should have to go through the horror of re living it years later. No one.

End this. Please.

 

 

 

 

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Rape and (in)justice.

 

I find I’m barely reading the news lately and I feel better for it. I felt guilty at first, I don’t want to bury my head in the sand and pretend the pain and suffering does not exist, but I think I’m OK with protecting myself for now. My husband keeps telling me that it’s important to take care of yourself first.  On a plane, in the event of low cabin pressure, they always tell you to put your own mask, before helping others. And I think that’s fitting here, it’s better to get well first to enable me to help others in future.

However, I can’t miss news stories completely, I catch bits and pieces on the radio and people I know (particularly at work), talk about the news a lot. Lately, there’s been another famous actor in the news, accused (and now found not guilty) of sexual abuse / rape charges. I do not know the specifics because I have deliberately kept away from them. But it was talked about at work this week and I found it very difficult not to get drawn in.

Perhaps it’s just me, but I find these stories so personal. It’s not the not guilty verdict so much, it’s more the reactions of society after. The “those women should be outed and shamed and then put in prison” and then lots of victim blaming, women hating statements. I particularly hate the phrase “cry rape” that’s thrown around every time a rape case makes it into the media. You wouldn’t say “he cried mugging” or “he cried assault,” you just wouldn’t.

 

I try hard to detach, but I just cannot. I won’t get to see my abuser pay for what he did to me. He won’t be put away for all those years of abuse. Even if my case made it to court (which it wouldn’t) why would I bother, when my sexual history would be dragged into the court room to be used against me? And where I would be called a liar at every turn? Why would I put myself through a system where I would automatically be thought of as a the liar? Instead of proving “his” guilt, I would be proving I was the victim. What kind of system is that?

 

I really wish I could have seen my T yesterday, so I could have talked this (and other things) through with him. So I could tell him how much this hurts and what a blow it feels to me. He would nod in understanding and let me rant and rave. And it would be safe and controlled with him so I wouldn’t have to be careful with my words (like I am trying to be here, considering the high profile case).

I ache so much right now and this is yet another thing I have to contain.

My abuser and injustice.

I think this has been brewing for a while. I’ve been having a lot of violent nightmares and I can’t place them, I’m having body memories, but cannot relate them to a particular memory. Last week I was dealing with a lot of irrational fears, I was angry at the way authorities had treated me and paranoid about the involvement of similar authorities now. Though the irrational fears are calmer and paranoia now gone, I’ve been left angry and with some trust issues. I wonder if that is behind the nightmares? Or perhaps it is due to an anniversary last week of an incident I actually reported to the Police right away.

Either way, I am feeling really angry, there’s so much injustice, my own and all around me..

Trigger Warning.

I was not the first to be abused by my abuser.He was well known to the Police for various violent crimes, he was also well known to them for his unhealthy interest in young teen girls. He had even been arrested on several occasions for suspected “sexual contact” with underage girls. He was never punished and their lack of action didn’t just physically allow him to re offend, it also gave him the confidence to do so. He was as aware as I am now, that the Police would not prosecute.

The Police spoke to me on more than one occasion, they warned me to stay away from him, but mostly, they told me off for getting involved. Wasn’t he the predator, just like they said? Why was I treated like the criminal, while he walked free, yet AGAIN?

In the years I knew him, he was arrested numerous times for sexual offences against teen girls. The Police had to know he was guilty, yet with every arrest, he was at most, cautioned and then released. Even after a harrowing video interview, where I had to disclose the details of a rape I had just endured, I was patted on the shoulder, ensured he’d be warned and then I was sent on my way.

I just cannot understand it, how many times can one person be arrested for similar crimes, yet still get away with it?

And how many are there of us? How many have been his victims, before, during and after me? I have spent a lot of time agonising over those potential victims since and those that may still be in danger. I know I cannot carry that, I know I cannot change it, because nothing would be done anyway. Even if I reported now, my experience time and time again has proven that he will not be prosecuted. But right or wrong I do still carry that. I am haunted by the idea that he abused others after me. I know I cannot do anything to bring him to justice, but if there’s something I can do to raise awareness of abuse and to help other abuse survivors then I have to do it.

I know I am not the only one feeling like I got the life sentence, desperately trying to deal with the aftermath and work towards healing from the crime an abuser got away with.

I’m so angry with him and various authorities right now. I am angry that even good moments are fleeting because of the PTSD, an issue I proabably wouldn’t have had he been caught and punished right away. Instead, I was left with no defence, I had no way out, no escape from abuse that then continued for years. I had to endure rape and torture, I was physically and emotionally abused. I had to live for years with lack of choice and only drugs, alcohol and an alternative reality to keep me sane. I was utterly abandoned by the only people who could keep him away from me. He should have been in prison, not free to abuse me.

I am angry about the abuse for sure, but it is the impact on my life now that makes me sick. I want to hold on to what I felt on Monday, when I was so grounded, I was excited for Christmas and for my future. I still feel like I have so little choice, because if I could choose, I would choose to feel as I did on Monday, I would grab it with both hands and never, ever let go. Yet PTSD and memories of abuse seem to rule my life, I do not get to choose when it strikes, only how I handle it. Because of failing of others, my life is affected now, I am tormented now, I am living with it now.

They (he and them) are the reason I have nightmares and flashbacks, they are the reason I lived the horrors of abuse. I blame them for difficulty to be close to others, my fear of the dark and of being alone. It is their fault it took me years to enjoy sex, that still I cry in my husband’s arms so often after. Their fault that I feel dirty and ashamed, that I feel worthless and unlovable and their fault that I struggle to find my Faith, that I feel anything but fear and anger towards God.

I blame them for my inability to feel anything for years. I blame them for my jumpiness at my own children’s touch. I blame them for my controlling nature and my need to always blame myself.

They crushed my self esteem, I lost my self worth, I was a shell for so very long. I blame them for my inability to ask for help even now. I blame them for my shame that I feel this way. I called Samaritans tonight (a UK helpline, who are fantastic btw) because I was feeling desperate yet too ashamed to call anyone I know and right now, I blame them for that too. Because I shouldn’t be here feeling this, I shouldn’t be ashamed of what I did not do, I should not be tormented by horrific memories, nor carrying responsibility for crimes I did not and would never commit. Not only did he abuse me, but they failed me spectacularly and right or wrong, I blame them and him for all of it right now.

I hate him and I hate them. Where is my justice?

I am in control

I was just a child then too, barely legal, you said.

You got some kind of thrill, that I will never understand.

I was exploited, victimised, once again your conquest.

You let me take the blame, even forced it on me

I was so deeply ashamed that I could barely breathe

 

You were smug and arrogant, confident you would never be caught

I hate the injustice, of this truly messed up world

You were probably right, I doubt you’ll ever pay, but

I haven’t kept it secret, last week I told of that day

You can have this shame back, you can have that blame

 

I am in control now and you cannot win.