Not long ago, I was having a conversation with a friend. This friend told me, in no uncertain terms, that I should be over my past by now. I was told that I was obviously stuck in a rut, that I had surrendered to my misery and I needed help to get out of it and to get over everything. This person then said that she knew exactly how to heal me. By taking me clothes shopping.
Yes, you read that correctly. Clothes shopping. Apparently, buying new clothes would help me, as a childhood abuse and rape victim, to 'get over it'. I was told that I have no taste in clothes, that I lack style and that my lack of style makes me unnatractive. She told me not to worry though - it's understandable that I want to be unnatractive, given what has happened to me. But it's really about time to move on. So I need to go out and buy clothes that make me stand out from the crowd, that make a statement about myself. And being the wonderful person that she is, she will help me with my fashion sense. In letting her make me over, I'll be halfway there to 'getting over it'. Clothes will, apparently, make me heal.
I am so glad that someone has finally told me what I need to do in order to 'move on'. Buy new clothes and make myself attractive. Wow, I never knew it was so easy! Just imagine, I'll no longer have to work through and come to terms with all the years of abuse, denial, pain, anger, insecurity, fear etc. No, instead, all I need to do is buy new clothes!
As you may have guessed by now, I have many, many issues with this. I don't even know where to start. There are so many things wrong with what she said to me.
Firstly - don't you dare trivialise what I went through. Suggesting that something that has changed and shaped me so monumentally can be 'undone' by a simpe shopping trip is insulting. I can't even begin to describe how belittling and undermining that is. You are basically telling me that what I went through is nothing, that it shouldn't have had this much impact on me. I'm still trying to grasp the extent to which this has affected me, but I know it's more than a simple shopping trip can 'fix'. I'm sure my past has affected me in ways I can't even begin to imagine. However, I'm slowly finding out just how much of an impact this has had on my life. It has skewed my perception of what a healthy sexual relationship should be like. It has almost destroyed my faith in men. It made me fall in to a pit of dispair. It has left me with scars (physically and emotionally) that will never quite go away; they may fade, but they will always be there. So don't you dare try and tell me that what I went through is no big deal, that it is of no significance and is inconsequential. You have no idea how much this has affected me. But there's one thing that you can be sure of, and that is that a shopping trip will not 'fix' this.
Secondly - there is no time frame to recovering. Everyone recovers at a different pace. I suffered through years of sexual abuse. I suffered through rape. Then I spent the next few years living in denial and trying to bury something that was desperate to surface, something that was screaming to be brought out in to the open. I only let it out a few months ago. Over 10 years worth of buried emotions have just been allowed to surface. It's going to take me a hell of a lot longer than a few months to sift through them all. I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and think; 'Oh, it's been a few months now, I better be over this by now'. It's going to take a long, long time for me to work through everything. You rushing me is not helping; in fact, it's making it worse. Not only do I need to focus on working through everything, I now also have to worry about working to someone else's expected time frame. Will people think I'm weak or a drama queen if I haven't reached "step 5 of the grieving process" by tomorrow? Back off and let me heal in my own time.
Thirdly - who gave you the right to judge me? I am not, as you may think, stuck in a rut. I have not surrendered to my misery. In fact, I'm fighting it with every piece of strength I have. I was completely and utterly stripped to the core. It felt like I was left completely and utterly broken, cowering in a cave of despair. You have no idea just how much I am working to come out at the other side, to start to live again and see the beauty in life again. Yet you judge me, saying I'm just a misery guts. You are completely ignoring just how far I have come, how much work I have put in to putting myself back together. Don't you dare belittle all the hard work that I have done - and am still doing - to get my life back on track. I am working damn hard at finding my inner peace, at finding my happiness. So don't you tell me that I'm not working hard enough, or that I'm not working at all, because you have no idea just how hard I'm working.
Fourthly - I may never 'be over it'. It's not like it's the flu - I can't just rest a lot and take medicine and then be better in a couple of days. I won't suddenly forget what happened. In a sense, I will never 'get over it'. The memories will always remain. However, what I hope will happen is that I will find a way to live with it. I'm trying extremely hard to get to the place where I can live with it, but I don't think I will ever 'be over it'.
And finally - I'm sorry that my fashion sense isn't up to your standard. You find me unnatractive? Surprisingly enough, it's not the end of my world that you're not attracted to me. In fact, it may shock you, but I just don't care what you think of my style. I am not, nor will I ever be, a 'girly-girl' or 'chic'. That's not who I am. I am most comfortable in jeans and a tshirt, not an expensive skirt with a designer belt and a cute top. I am me, and I am - finally - getting to be comfortable with who I am. I will never be a fashion designer. I have absolutely no idea what the latest 'in thing' is. And I don't really care either. You may not like what I wear, but I do. I'm not pretending to be someone I'm not. I'm just me. I wear what I want to, depending on my mood on that particular day. Sometimes I dress in what you may call 'goth' wear. Sometimes I wear what you may call 'girl next door'. Sometimes I wear what you might call 'tom-boy', or 'urban', or 'butch' and yes, sometimes even 'girly'. You may not like that I don't just stick to one sort of style, or you may not like the style I wear most days. But you know what? Tough.
Right, that's my little rant over! I just had to get that off my chest.
Me
Thursday 25 August 2011
Sunday 14 August 2011
Fear
When you've been raped, or assaulted, it changes your whole world. You always knew that the world can be a dangerous place and that you should be careful. But (everyone always says this, I know), you never think it will happen to you. You never think that someone - someone you know, or a complete stranger - will hurt you.
So when it does happen, it turns your world upside down. You realise what a horrible and dangerous place this world can be. You realise that there people out there that don't think twice about hurting you. Suddenly, every place you visit has the possibility of being dangerous. Every person you meet could possibly hurt you.
Being so close to danger makes you think about your own immortality and vulnerability. The world isn't a safe place, someone could come at you any minute and hurt you again. Actually realising that, knowing that, shakes you to the core. Being powerless to stop yourself from being violated and hurt, knowing that there is nothing you can do, that you are at the mercy of someone else - there are no words to describe that feeling. Everything you knew about the world dissappears and is replaced with the knowledge that your body, your life, isn't always yours to control.
And that is terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
After the rape happened, I tried to block it out. I tried to pretend it didn't happen. I tried to act normal. Then I went to university and threw myself in to life there. I went to lectures, did my work and enjoyed student life. Then one night, the bubble I had tried to build around what had happened to me, burst. I was out clubbing with my friends when I managed to get seperated from them. I ended up dancing with this guy, another student, who then proceded to grope me. He had his hand around my wrist and wouldn't let me leave. His hands were all over my body, feeling me. I couldn't get away, and the people around me just ignored what was happening. I completely freaked out. Eventually, one of my friends found me again, and the man left. But I was shaken. I was close to tears and was completely and utterly terrified.
The first thing I did when I got back the halls of residence was have a shower. By being groped, all the pain, shame and fear of being abused and raped came flooding back to me. I broke down in tears, sobbing and shaking in the shower. Something then switched in my mind - no longer could I pretend everything was fine. Nothing was fine. I had been groomed and sexually assaulted as a child, raped as a teenager and forcibly felt-up as a student. The world was a horrible and dangerous place. I wasn't safe anymore. There was a potential threat everywhere.
I refused to leave my apartment at the halls of residence. I locked myself away - refusing to even go downstairs to check the mail. The only place I was safe was inside. If I tried to leave the flat, I ended up having a panic attack - breaking out in a cold sweat, shaking and gasping for breath. I couldn't bring myself to confront the world, it was just too dangerous.
Luckily, my friends and family were extremely supportive - though they couldn't understand what had made me develop this fear of the outside world. The staff at the university were also very supportive and allowed me to do everything online.
Eventually I came to a realisation; if I didn't do something now, I would develop full-blown agoraphobia and end up living my whole life indoors. I didn't want to leave the flat, but I knew I had to. So, after a month of not leaving my apartment, I started to go to counselling. It was terrifying. I was shaking with fear. The only thing stopping me from breaking down in the street crying, were two of my friends. They said that they wouldn't leave my side and that I would be okay. They took it in turn to walk me to my counselling session and wait for me. I honestly think that without them, I wouldn't have found the strength to leave the apartment.
Eventually, I was able to go to shops - but only if someone was with me. I started to venture out more and more. The breakthrough came when I was able to go down and get my mail - alone. Then when I was out with a friend, she went to the toilet, and I was able to stand there outside the toilets, by myself.
I was still absolutely terrified of the world, but I knew I couldn't live my life caged in.
I'm a lot better now, but there are still things I refuse to do. I refuse to walk anywhere alone at night. Even if it's twilight and the place I want to get to is 5 minutes away - I will not walk there alone. I will find someone to walk with me, or I will drive or take a taxi. If I'm going somewhere and I know I will be there for a while and it will be dark when I want to go home, I will drive there. One or two times I've walked alone in the dark - and I've always regretted it as I ended up working myself in to a right state; heart pounding, sweat dripping, adrenaline flowing etc. It's not worth getting myself in such a state.
People think I'm being lazy or weird - but I refuse to do it. This does mean that I sometimes miss out on social events, but I figure it's a small price to pay.
I still get frightened - a lot. Most people don't realise, as I can come across very confident and strong, but a part of me is still scared. No matter where I am, I always know where the nearest escape route is. If I'm walking around, alone, during the day, I always have my keys on hand, ready to defend myself. I try to always be aware of my surroundings and the people near me.
It also takes me time to trust people. I once trusted a man, and he ended up hurting me, badly. So I'm careful with who I trust. Once I trust someone, I will be at ease around them. It takes a lot to trust someone, but it also takes a lot to break that trust.
I know that there are horrible people out there. However, I know that most people are decent human beings that wouldn't dream of hurting anyone. That doesn't stop my fear though, but it is something I'm learning to control.
Maybe one day I'll be able to walk to the corner shop alone when it's twilight. But right now, that day is a long way away.
Me
So when it does happen, it turns your world upside down. You realise what a horrible and dangerous place this world can be. You realise that there people out there that don't think twice about hurting you. Suddenly, every place you visit has the possibility of being dangerous. Every person you meet could possibly hurt you.
Being so close to danger makes you think about your own immortality and vulnerability. The world isn't a safe place, someone could come at you any minute and hurt you again. Actually realising that, knowing that, shakes you to the core. Being powerless to stop yourself from being violated and hurt, knowing that there is nothing you can do, that you are at the mercy of someone else - there are no words to describe that feeling. Everything you knew about the world dissappears and is replaced with the knowledge that your body, your life, isn't always yours to control.
And that is terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
After the rape happened, I tried to block it out. I tried to pretend it didn't happen. I tried to act normal. Then I went to university and threw myself in to life there. I went to lectures, did my work and enjoyed student life. Then one night, the bubble I had tried to build around what had happened to me, burst. I was out clubbing with my friends when I managed to get seperated from them. I ended up dancing with this guy, another student, who then proceded to grope me. He had his hand around my wrist and wouldn't let me leave. His hands were all over my body, feeling me. I couldn't get away, and the people around me just ignored what was happening. I completely freaked out. Eventually, one of my friends found me again, and the man left. But I was shaken. I was close to tears and was completely and utterly terrified.
The first thing I did when I got back the halls of residence was have a shower. By being groped, all the pain, shame and fear of being abused and raped came flooding back to me. I broke down in tears, sobbing and shaking in the shower. Something then switched in my mind - no longer could I pretend everything was fine. Nothing was fine. I had been groomed and sexually assaulted as a child, raped as a teenager and forcibly felt-up as a student. The world was a horrible and dangerous place. I wasn't safe anymore. There was a potential threat everywhere.
I refused to leave my apartment at the halls of residence. I locked myself away - refusing to even go downstairs to check the mail. The only place I was safe was inside. If I tried to leave the flat, I ended up having a panic attack - breaking out in a cold sweat, shaking and gasping for breath. I couldn't bring myself to confront the world, it was just too dangerous.
Luckily, my friends and family were extremely supportive - though they couldn't understand what had made me develop this fear of the outside world. The staff at the university were also very supportive and allowed me to do everything online.
Eventually I came to a realisation; if I didn't do something now, I would develop full-blown agoraphobia and end up living my whole life indoors. I didn't want to leave the flat, but I knew I had to. So, after a month of not leaving my apartment, I started to go to counselling. It was terrifying. I was shaking with fear. The only thing stopping me from breaking down in the street crying, were two of my friends. They said that they wouldn't leave my side and that I would be okay. They took it in turn to walk me to my counselling session and wait for me. I honestly think that without them, I wouldn't have found the strength to leave the apartment.
Eventually, I was able to go to shops - but only if someone was with me. I started to venture out more and more. The breakthrough came when I was able to go down and get my mail - alone. Then when I was out with a friend, she went to the toilet, and I was able to stand there outside the toilets, by myself.
I was still absolutely terrified of the world, but I knew I couldn't live my life caged in.
I'm a lot better now, but there are still things I refuse to do. I refuse to walk anywhere alone at night. Even if it's twilight and the place I want to get to is 5 minutes away - I will not walk there alone. I will find someone to walk with me, or I will drive or take a taxi. If I'm going somewhere and I know I will be there for a while and it will be dark when I want to go home, I will drive there. One or two times I've walked alone in the dark - and I've always regretted it as I ended up working myself in to a right state; heart pounding, sweat dripping, adrenaline flowing etc. It's not worth getting myself in such a state.
People think I'm being lazy or weird - but I refuse to do it. This does mean that I sometimes miss out on social events, but I figure it's a small price to pay.
I still get frightened - a lot. Most people don't realise, as I can come across very confident and strong, but a part of me is still scared. No matter where I am, I always know where the nearest escape route is. If I'm walking around, alone, during the day, I always have my keys on hand, ready to defend myself. I try to always be aware of my surroundings and the people near me.
It also takes me time to trust people. I once trusted a man, and he ended up hurting me, badly. So I'm careful with who I trust. Once I trust someone, I will be at ease around them. It takes a lot to trust someone, but it also takes a lot to break that trust.
I know that there are horrible people out there. However, I know that most people are decent human beings that wouldn't dream of hurting anyone. That doesn't stop my fear though, but it is something I'm learning to control.
Maybe one day I'll be able to walk to the corner shop alone when it's twilight. But right now, that day is a long way away.
Me
Saturday 6 August 2011
Anger
I used to be filled with such anger, such rage, it was difficult to contain it. I was so angry at the world. It's hard to find words to describe my anger - no words seem strong enough. It wasn't just anger either; it was tinged with sadness. Sometimes I didn't know whether to scream or cry. I often did both.
Growing up, I couldn't understand why I always felt so angry. I thought there was something wrong with me. It took me years to realise and to admit to myself that I had been sexually abused and raped. Growing up, I hadn't realised what was happening to me. After all, I was a child - I didn't know what grooming meant, I didn't know what sexual exploitation meant. So how on earth could I apply those words to myself?
I didn't understand why I was so angry and upset. I would talk to him about it. He tried to soothe me, to calm me down. I felt like he was the only one that I could talk to, that could understand me. I didn't realise that he was the one that was creating my problems and using them to control me.
I thought he was my best friend, when in fact, he didn't care about me at all. All he cared about was himself and satisfying his urges. He knew exactly why I was feeling the way I did. He knew he was hurting me. He knew he was destroying my innocence. He just didn't care. The more angry and depressed I felt, the more I turned to him to help me and the worse I felt. It was a vicious circle that I wasn't even aware of.
Yet he knew exactly what he was doing. And he decided that the fall-out was worth it. He decided that my emotional, physical and sexual well-being were a small price to pay compared to the satisfaction he was getting. He knew that years in the future I would fall apart and he didn't care. I would be out of his life by then, so what did it matter to him? By the time that I crashed and burned, he would be long gone.
It is a difficult thing to realise; that you are less than nothing to someone. That you are worth less than something you would scrape off the bottom of your shoe.
I often wonder what my life would have been like had it not been for him. Would I have self harmed? Would I have suffered from bulimia? Would I have developed anxiety and suffered from panic attacks? Would I have purposfully made myself fat to try and make myself unnatractive? Would I have been so insecure about every aspect of myself? I believe the answer is a big, fat 'NO', but I will never know. He made sure of that.
Realising just what he has taken from me makes me so angry.
He decided that it was okay to try and destroy and break me. He had no right to change my life like that. He had no right to do what he did, but he did it anyway. So, I find myself filled with this rage. He took my childhood from me. I will never get that back.
But I'll be damned if I'll let him take my future from me.
Now I know why I was filled with so much anger. Now I understand my anger. And in understanding it, I can begin to move on. One day I will no longer feel this anger, but for now it is directed where it should be; not towards myself, but towards him. No longer will I punish myself for something that is not my fault. I have managed to break free from the self-destructive cycle that I had been caught in for so long. I am now growing and becoming strong. Yes, I am still angry and frustrated. Yes, I hate the man. But I will not let him take anything else from me. I am worth more, and he doesn't deserve my tears.
I don't know how long it will take for this wound to heal, but I know it's a hell of a lot better than it was a year ago. I am finding healthy ways to cope with my anger. The most important thing that I'm doing is talking about it. I am no longer letting it eat me up. I am giving my feelings a voice to be heard, so that they can say what they want and leave. I am taking back control of my life.
God, my family and my friends give me strength. They make me realise that I don't have to go through anything alone - they make me realise that I am loved. I am no longer scared by my anger, and my anger is no longer overwhelming.
I know an important part in letting go of my anger is to forgive. I also know that I'm not yet ready for this. I want to, it is something I am working towards, but at the moment I'm not in the right place. I just can't bring myself to forgive him for what he's done to me - yet. I know it will come, but at the minute I just can't do it. Instead, I am slowly letting go of my anger.
In the meantime, I am not letting him control my life anymore. I have stopped self harming. I haven't had a panic attack in a long time. I no longer make myself sick and I am losing weight. I am slowly taking my life back. I am facing my fears head on, and in doing so some of my demons are being conquered. I am becoming the person I imagine I would have been had he not been a part of my life. I am ro longer running away from myself - I am facing myself head on and I am becoming the person I want to be.
Me
Growing up, I couldn't understand why I always felt so angry. I thought there was something wrong with me. It took me years to realise and to admit to myself that I had been sexually abused and raped. Growing up, I hadn't realised what was happening to me. After all, I was a child - I didn't know what grooming meant, I didn't know what sexual exploitation meant. So how on earth could I apply those words to myself?
I didn't understand why I was so angry and upset. I would talk to him about it. He tried to soothe me, to calm me down. I felt like he was the only one that I could talk to, that could understand me. I didn't realise that he was the one that was creating my problems and using them to control me.
I thought he was my best friend, when in fact, he didn't care about me at all. All he cared about was himself and satisfying his urges. He knew exactly why I was feeling the way I did. He knew he was hurting me. He knew he was destroying my innocence. He just didn't care. The more angry and depressed I felt, the more I turned to him to help me and the worse I felt. It was a vicious circle that I wasn't even aware of.
Yet he knew exactly what he was doing. And he decided that the fall-out was worth it. He decided that my emotional, physical and sexual well-being were a small price to pay compared to the satisfaction he was getting. He knew that years in the future I would fall apart and he didn't care. I would be out of his life by then, so what did it matter to him? By the time that I crashed and burned, he would be long gone.
It is a difficult thing to realise; that you are less than nothing to someone. That you are worth less than something you would scrape off the bottom of your shoe.
I often wonder what my life would have been like had it not been for him. Would I have self harmed? Would I have suffered from bulimia? Would I have developed anxiety and suffered from panic attacks? Would I have purposfully made myself fat to try and make myself unnatractive? Would I have been so insecure about every aspect of myself? I believe the answer is a big, fat 'NO', but I will never know. He made sure of that.
Realising just what he has taken from me makes me so angry.
He decided that it was okay to try and destroy and break me. He had no right to change my life like that. He had no right to do what he did, but he did it anyway. So, I find myself filled with this rage. He took my childhood from me. I will never get that back.
But I'll be damned if I'll let him take my future from me.
Now I know why I was filled with so much anger. Now I understand my anger. And in understanding it, I can begin to move on. One day I will no longer feel this anger, but for now it is directed where it should be; not towards myself, but towards him. No longer will I punish myself for something that is not my fault. I have managed to break free from the self-destructive cycle that I had been caught in for so long. I am now growing and becoming strong. Yes, I am still angry and frustrated. Yes, I hate the man. But I will not let him take anything else from me. I am worth more, and he doesn't deserve my tears.
I don't know how long it will take for this wound to heal, but I know it's a hell of a lot better than it was a year ago. I am finding healthy ways to cope with my anger. The most important thing that I'm doing is talking about it. I am no longer letting it eat me up. I am giving my feelings a voice to be heard, so that they can say what they want and leave. I am taking back control of my life.
God, my family and my friends give me strength. They make me realise that I don't have to go through anything alone - they make me realise that I am loved. I am no longer scared by my anger, and my anger is no longer overwhelming.
I know an important part in letting go of my anger is to forgive. I also know that I'm not yet ready for this. I want to, it is something I am working towards, but at the moment I'm not in the right place. I just can't bring myself to forgive him for what he's done to me - yet. I know it will come, but at the minute I just can't do it. Instead, I am slowly letting go of my anger.
In the meantime, I am not letting him control my life anymore. I have stopped self harming. I haven't had a panic attack in a long time. I no longer make myself sick and I am losing weight. I am slowly taking my life back. I am facing my fears head on, and in doing so some of my demons are being conquered. I am becoming the person I imagine I would have been had he not been a part of my life. I am ro longer running away from myself - I am facing myself head on and I am becoming the person I want to be.
Me
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