I am so angry, so fucking angry. Every time I think I get it under control, it is there again. Everything is winding me up, even the children. Things I would normally find mildly irritating, have me incandescent with rage. A red mist I cannot see through, a grip on my chest, so tight I can barely breathe.
I hurt, all over, I am overwhelmed by memories. I want it all to go, to fucking leave me alone. Maybe it’s the anniversaries, the toll of this month, or the knowledge that I have therapy tomorrow- where I know it will all come out. I don’t know, but I want to hit something, or break something.. do something.
I HATE them, I HATE him, I HATE every single person who caused this- and it wasn’t just one. So many people did nothing, so many turned a blind eye, so many who just didn’t fucking care, because they couldn’t and probably still can’t see past themselves. I hope I am never that selfish, I never, ever want to be like them.
Perhaps they think I didn’t matter, just a teen girl- I should have expected it right? WRONG. I wish I could say that it has changed since then, I wish what I went through was an isolated case, not an epidemic, which it seems to be. We live in a close minded, selfish, judgmental society. The media have a lot to answer for. The BBC continue to report on cases of child abuse, using the phrase “Child Sex Abuse”
STOP CALLING IT SEX ABUSE
It has nothing to do with sex. All those people who failed me… they told themselves I was off the rails, they told themselves I’d fallen for an older man and then they shamed me for “sleeping” with him. I didn’t! What he did was abuse. It was rape. It was not sex. For goodness sake, when will these attitudes change? I can’t do this, I can’t live with this. I cannot live in a world so fucked up it blames victims of abuse and rape. Where’s the exit? Because I wanna leave until this changes.
It’s too hard, too painful and it is feeding the shame I am desperately trying to rid myself of. It leaves me carrying secrets that are too heavy for one person to bear. It leaves me terrified to share with those who are supposed to care. I cannot report, I cannot tell people, I cannot seek justice. I will be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life (or at least his), unable to return to my home town, always being careful who knows where I live. Paranoid and terrified. His fault, their fault. Not my fault.
And it’s not just me, every other survivor I have crossed paths with has similar to say. The victim of Ched Evans for example, she had to change her name, she had to leave her home town, she will have to suffer for the rest of her life. He has been convicted of rape, yet still people think he’s innocent. How is this OK? She has her rapist convicted and still she is blamed. What hope is there for the rest of us?
We are living in a mans world and I am fucking sick of it.
I hate feeling this out of control, it triggers me, it feels so unlike me. I see “him” when I feel angry, what he looked like when angry and it just makes things worse…