‘Cus It Feels So Empty Without Me

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

I have no idea where to even start with what I want to say. Writing it makes me feel better and knowing it might make someone else feel better is an even better feeling.5d9115fa6e885f8a36b4f57a284d5248I’ve said this before, many times, that I don’t like to blame what happened to me for the things I do now, but there is no denying that it affected me and affected me for life. I don’t get to turn it off. And to some people that makes me damaged and they don’t understand or they lash out at me for being upset or touchy or too sensitive. I get it…I really do, but at the same time if I’m that much of a burden on someone’s life, please, by all means, leave. The last thing I ever want to do is be a burden to someone. But the fact that I am this burden to someone should not be seen as my fault. I have spent most of my life fighting the residual effects of these horrible events. I have been beyond proactive in caring for myself.

And I am not a failure. What happened to me made me  so determined to not be a failure that I pushed harder than I think I ever would have to be who I am. I’ve done some of the most amazing things in my life (and I don’t intend to stop) because I believe if you want to do something do it. Find a way…and face the fear…do it. And there were a really good few years there where I felt invincible. My depression was not quite as bad as it can be, my anxiety level was down and I took chances that got me places that some folks dream about. And knowing I was doing things was an even bigger boost at the time. I know I’m not a failure.

BUT…of course there is a but, the times that I do fuck up, or fail (and not all of the times, but the times when I’m just not having a good day or week or whatever) that ptsd kicks in and there’s that voice…my stepfather “You’re ugly.” “You’re stupid and no one can ever love you.” “You’re useless and should have your throat slit and be thrown to the side of the road. No one would miss you.” there are plenty more but these are the ones I hear most. These aren’t random voices, they are like a recording from a part of my mind that as a child, gets imbedded and honestly never leaves. So when I do have a bad day or week or I do manage to make a big mistake…I become exactly what he said I was. I question myself.

This past week I fucked up in a bigger way than I ever have. Usually I handle my mistakes fairly well but this was big to me and not something I can see an easy way out of. While it isn’t the worst thing in the world, it is a humiliating thing, mostly because I was usually pretty proud of myself for being where I am at, surviving and making it work. But this just triggered a flood of self loathing. I get overly sensitive, people get angry because I get overly sensitive.

So yeah…past abuse or rape or whatever it is someone went through, trauma, doesn’t go away. And when that trauma just doubles the depression and anxiety you already have, it can be unbearable. That kind of unbearable that has you thinking you’d be better off dead. And that is tough to fight. I think the hardest part of my recent issues is that I found out that I can’t afford to see my therapist, at least not for a long time. I rely on that, I have for many years. Talking helps me a lot especially to someone not so tied to me, someone outside of my life. That hurts. I mean that only made this whole situation harder. And I’m doing my best to keep it together but every day is a struggle ten times worse than what my usual struggle is.

I love the people who do allow me to have my moments. They are rare, but…this is exhausting.

Running Away

I don’t think I’ve ever been a functioning adult. I want to blame my past but it isn’t just that. Everything that happened to me only exacerbated what depression, anxiety and suicidality is already there. The constant reminder that I’m no good and worthless and no one would want me around just screams in the back of my head. I cannot function. I’m useless. I want so badly to be okay and on my own and capable, but the truth is, I’m not.

A few months ago I got really depressed and went on a spending spree with credit cards. Not only did it put me so far into debt that I can’t afford to pay it, but it really only made my depression worse. Now I’m at a point where I can’t afford to pay my bills, I can’t afford to buy groceries, I can’t afford to see my therapist or psych and I’ll be surprised if I can afford my meds. Right now, this second, I am in a panic, crying, barely able to breathe or calm down because if I’ve ever felt so useless it is right now.

So I’m going away. I’m not going to talk to anyone. I’m going to hide. I can’t bare to deal with this, it is humiliating and honestly just makes me feel worse to talk to anyone. I want to blame the abuse, but this part is all my fault for not coping well with my depression. I’m an adult, but obviously not a very smart one.

Why Are You So Far From Saving Me?

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him.

 Proverbs 22:15 (ESV)
Warning: This contains mentions of sexual abuse, rape and religion. Proceed with caution.
6169b-crucifixion2bsan2bmarco2bvenice2b1200-20

Because I want to look at this every week.

I was not raised in a particularly religious household. At least not up until my mother met my stepfather, then suddenly we were going to a Byzantine church. The few times my mother did take me to church as a child it was a Methodist church, so relatively mild. I don’t remember ever believing in God so it didn’t really impress me. I am not a believer in the indoctrination of children. I’m not telling anyone what to do, but that is merely my opinion. Two things really helped me in my realization that I don’t believe in God: 1 – Religion 2 – Church. Even before the abusive Byzantine lifestyle I was forced into, I didn’t believe in God and this is as a young child. I distinctly remember thinking “What are they even talking about?” and I thought Jesus was just some historical figure (which is all he really is as far as I know). I loved (still do) Jesus Christ Superstar as a child. That was as close to love the “Lord” as I got. He had a great set of pipes on him. He could’ve led a half decent career in a metal band.
My stepfather and his mother were ridiculously religious. His mother was religious in that “Carrie’s mom” kinda way. She forced me to say the Lord’s Prayer and do these Hail Marys and told me constantly that I was a sinner. She reminded me that I had no father and that she thought my mother didn’t discipline me. (My mother did not hit me.) My stepfather, of course, agreed with her treatment. He hid behind religion because in that church, the men are what matter. Women simply have kids and cater to men. So because my mother was divorced and I was the child of divorced parents, that church saw us as “unclean”. We couldn’t participate in certain things or sit in certain parts of the church. Often if I didn’t cross myself or sing or speak during the English portions of the service, my stepfather or his mother would pinch me.
This church was scary. So incredibly ritualistic and as far as I could tell, not much different than witchcraft, which they seem to think is so bad. One god, yeah…but saints galore. Saints and angels and heaven and hell and constant repentance and being punished and being told you are this horrible person. I mean during Easter they put an effigy of Jesus in the tomb at the front of the altar and you have to crawl up to it and kiss it. I cried. It scared the fuck out of me. Most of the service was in Czech so I never knew what they were on about. Then the sermon was in English. Most of the service was sung. The Apostle’s Creed was done in both Czech and English and sung.
No one shoved religion down my throat. No one force fed me bible verses and made me prove my love of God to them in any way until my stepfather came around (and his mother) Suddenly everything was about religion, sinning, God, obeying, praying, worshipping, pretending to be human and not being responsible for your own shit.
I equate religion with fear, evil, abuse, torture, horror, terror, nightmares, pain, lies, twisted fucked up imagery and ideas. I have yet to see religion do anything good and only good. I associate church with being punished. I mean you were supposed to go there and tell someone, “Hey, so I had sex this week.” and that person was supposed to tell you, “Ooooh you are a sinner. Go say these prayers.” You get to pray as punishment. Honestly, how can anyone believe in a religion that uses religion to punish you? To me that would be like my mother getting mad at me and forcing me to read Dr. Seuss books.
My stepfather hid behind his religion and his religion allowed it by constantly reminding me that he saved my mother and me because we were unclean because my mother was divorced and I was without a father. He was saving me because I needed a father figure. He is a child rapist. For over 30 years he raped children, including myself and I was supposed to idolize him for being a “good man” and “saving” us. His mother didn’t help. He abused her verbally constantly and she just took it because he was male and he got to do that. It was okay. But she was just as evil. She always hated me so she would find ways to accuse me of things. One time she told my mother I stole jewelry from her jewelry box. I didn’t steal anything but she saw me coming out of a bedroom and decided that was what I was doing. Stealing jewelry because when I was 8 I had so many street hook ups to go hawk jewelry for drug money. You know how bad ass I was at 8. Fucking bad…ass. Her jewelry was worthless anyway, street value about -40 dollars. I’d probably have to give them 40 dollars to take it. She also called me all kinds of names. I got this cute pair of heels when I was bout 12. They weren’t high heels, just a square heel that lifted a little bit. Sandals. She said I looked like a slut. If my skirt was too short according to her, I was a slut. She used to force me to go pray because I was such a slut.
If these are the kinds of people religion turns out, I’ll have none of that. People can’t handle religion. They invent it to make themselves feel better, then bend all of it to suit their needs. Need to kill someone? Here is a religious reason why it’s okay. Need to abuse someone? Well here is what we should say to make that okay. There is an answer for everything if you want there to be. That is how it works. Because it is an invention by humans to explain things to them they cannot understand. To justify things that honestly, when looked at logically should not be justified. War, hate, murder, rape, torture, etc. Any religion that justifies these things in anyway or similar things…is pure evil. I assume Evil is exactly why religion was created. It justifies evil. Before that, we just had weird bad stuff that happened and we didn’t know what to call it. Bring religion around and now we can call it ‘evil’. But what happens when good things happen? We’ll call that “God”. From then on it just got worse and worse.
So just to clarify, if someone is religious that is their business. I don’t care. I have friends who go to church. If someone finds it comforting to have an explanation for the things they can’t understand, if they find comfort in their beliefs, that is just lovely. Just don’t shove it down anyone else’s throat. Don’t spew it at people and name call…and kill people because you think they are wrong and you are right. Don’t expect children to tolerate abuse because “God”. Don’t force children into believing something they might not believe. That will only cause them to not believe.
Just like all abuse, and I know this from experience, if you tell someone something long enough and beat it into them (or whatever your way of enforcing it might be) they will believe it. I see religion as abuse. It was used as a tool in my abuse. It was used to try to justify my abuse. They don’t make stories like Carrie for nothing. People like that woman exist. I’ve seen them. I’ve met them.
My birthday is the same day as Mother Theresa’s birthday. We’re both Virgos and according to astrology.com :
Virgo is the sixth sign of the zodiac, to be exact, and that’s the way Virgos like it: exacting. Those born under this sign are forever the butt of jokes for being so picky and critical (and they can be), but their ‘attention to detail’ is for a reason: to help others. Virgos, more than any other sign, were born to serve, and it gives them great joy. They are also tailor-made for the job, since they are industrious, methodical and efficient. The sense of duty borne by these folks is considerable, and it ensures that they will always work for the greater good.
I’m no saint and I’m definitely not perfect. And neither was Mother Theresa. You might want to look into her background a little more deeply. She wasn’t doing anything she was doing to help the poor. She was doing it for Christ and the church. (She said that, not me) She believed that suffering was a gift from God. She believed the sick must suffer like Christ on the cross. Her clinics took in millions and millions of dollars yet those clinics barely had what they needed to really take care of people.
I don’t know…I’m still waiting on someone to show me a religion that only does good (which is subjective as far as I can tell).
*Title from Bon Iver’s GOD
— Bible verses from the Bible (!)
— Virgo description from astrology.com
— Mother Theresa info from The Missionary Position: Mother Theresa in Theory and Practice by Christopher Hutchins and also various articles I found around the Web.
— Everything else came from my life experience, deal with it.

Nothing Changes on New Year’s Day

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

New Year’s Eve. Again. My least favourite holiday of the year. Over the past few years I’ve started spending NYE alone. And I like it that way.

For me NYE just brings up this flood of feelings from my whole life, what I’ve done, what I’ve been through, where I’ve been and it becomes overwhelming because I want the incoming year to be a better year (doesn’t everyone?) but nostalgia and I do not get along. I’m going to be painfully honest here, blunt and definitely to the point. Every NYE is when I wonder if I will finally kill myself in the coming year. Dark, I know, but it’s how my brain works. And even though I try hard to think of the good things, for some reason, NYE doesn’t cooperate.

An influx of memories for me is like a form of torture. Constantly remembering and reliving a horror story. A few horror stories really. So on NYE my mind likes to remind me of the bad things I’ve seen. Through years of rape, torture, psychological torment to moving forward, finding some good people and pushing myself through school to prove I wasn’t as stupid as he brainwashed me to think I was. To moving on to grad school and being happy because it meant I was the only one in my family with an education and we grew up pretty poor. How I got through school is a blur and not because I spent it partying but because my PTSD was at it’s full height. I had a seriously confidence boost some where along the way. After grad school I had a HUGE influx of self esteem and confidence. My motto became “Face Your Fear and Do It Anyway”. Even if I shook, I faced my fears. And because of that attitude I managed to get to do work that a lot of others would kill to do. I got to travel and meet people and hang out with famous people and best of all I got to work with teens and young adults and THAT is my favourite thing in the world. Then came more abuse and mistreatment. Which sent my self esteem and confidence plummeting as thoughts of “I was never meant to be happy.” “I deserve to be treated this way.” “I am not like everyone else, I don’t get to be happy.” Everything and anything that could make me realize that this happiness was bound to fail came to mind.  Because of it my self esteem fell, my confidence shattered and people dragged me through the mud and worst of all, I lost a lot of the teens and young adults I was working with. Some of them stuck by me but due to the nature of what I was doing and who I was working for, many of them stayed on that side of things. I had pretty much everything I loved torn apart. I hid for a while. It isn’t hard to think you don’t deserve anything good because you were basically raised being told “You’re fat, ugly and no one will ever love you.” “You’re stupid and worthless.” These things play over and over in my head when I’m having a particularly bad day and usually that means NYE. You cannot turn this off. If you’ve been through something similar, you know, you cannot predict when this playback will hit your mind and you cannot just turn it off. It is a lengthy process of trying to find the right way to cope with it when it does happen.

I am pretty sure there is some PTSD from that time I thought I had found my happiness. I know there is because my self esteem and confidence are still at an all time low and it fucking sucks. I went from having no self esteem to feeling like I could do anything to dropping down to absolutely no self confidence and a constant state of self deprecation, self hate. It’s been hard to get out of that and after 8 years of trying, I know I’m doing a little better but every day is still a struggle to get up and function knowing I’m not happy at all with my life anymore. One thing I do try to do that is becoming increasingly harder for me financially is that I try to plan to travel a few times during each year so on NYE I like to think about where I want to go. I am a traveller and travelling is my heart. It keeps me sane. So of course that is slowly dwindling because, as his voice likes to repeat in my head, “You don’t deserve to be happy.”

So on NYE all of this comes back and makes me question if the next year will be better or if it will get worse. And before anyone says it, thinking about the good things in my life is hard for me on NYE which is why I like to spend it alone. I just fucking hate nostalgia and looking back because most of the memories my friends have or people who know me have are nothing like the memories and feelings I have to look back on even though maybe we spent a lot of that time together. I love my friends because I know I’d have killed myself a long time ago if not for them. They are my family. Maybe one day I can spend NYE with them but for now it’s me, myself and I as usual.

For those of you who get it, I am sorry that you have to go through this too. For those of you who have never experienced these things, I envy you. Hopefully everyone can have a good New Year though because we ALL deserve it.

Words Will Hurt, Words Will Save

Tags

, ,

I’d say a very large portion, if not the most damaging, part of my abusive and torture filled childhood was the psychological abuse brought about by the way words were used, how I was spoken to. I am sure many people can relate to how important words are and how they are used can change your perception of yourself when you are only young and just getting that grip on who you are. I’d like to share it.

The Long Legacy of Childhood Verbal Abuse

With a mouth full of teeth, you ate all your friends, and you broke every heart thinking every heart mends…

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

WARNING: This piece of writing may contain discussion on abuse, rape, sex, ptsd, depression and also may use harsh language.

So much on my mind lately and I’m tired of being angry. And there are always those people who say “cheer up” or “don’t be so angry” as if it is so easy to just turn it off. That’s something that has bothered me since I have been able to contemplate life and people. Why do people assume we are all the same? I know, it’s easier to do that than to accept differences, I get that but I don’t accept it. Accepting it would mean that I approve of it. And I don’t.

In all of the years since I escaped by abuse, my torture, my hell, I have travelled and met so many people. Different kinds of people. One of the things that I have always been is curious about everyone and their lives and how they perceive things. Probably too curious for my own good really. It has taught me a lot of things about myself but the biggest lesson I’ve learned from getting to know so many people is that as different as we are, as different as all of our experiences are we are all so very very similar. As humans we are limited but our limits are unlimited. And that does actually make sense. (Despite me sitting here and thinking too hard about it.)

There aren’t a lot of things I won’t tell someone about me. I have been told for so long that I am too open and I think that might be true but I also don’t know any other way to be. People have said all kinds of shit about me, around me, to me, to others about me…and I’ve always said that people either love me or hate me, there is no in between. I’m okay with that. But the thing that people do the most is tell me how to feel, what to think, what to do…blah blah blah. We all do this at some point, I know.

In the beginning, maybe even when I still had to exist in the house with that monster, I know I was not the nicest person. I was a good person, just not a very nice one. I talked down to my friends, I treated them like they were stupid, I said horrible things. I know this was for years. Why I kept my friends for so long has always been a mystery to me. When you are feeling as trapped, confused, sad, hurt and everything else as I was, showing raw emotion is the hardest thing in the world. So hard. I remember saying things to friends and hearing myself and knowing what I was saying wasn’t nice but it still came out. And I couldn’t apologize. I couldn’t stop myself. It was always people that I cared a lot about and it was honestly the way I showed them that I cared. I was just mean. I was insecure, scared and confused. I would do anything for people I cared about but still, I wasn’t very nice.

I worked on this, I really did. I started to recognize when I was about to start treating someone like this and do my best not to but it doesn’t always work. I say “doesn’t” because I know I can still get like that if I am not feeling well emotionally.

“So when are you getting married?” or as the years go by, “When are you going to start having kids?”. The assumption we are all the same or all going to do the same things. At certain points I assumed I had to do some of these things and then eventually it started to weigh on me when I didn’t. I know that it’s common for many people to feel that way from societal pressure. I’ve never been comfortable being treated like a typical girl or what is expected of a girl. Then shit happens and you have all of these pressures put on you but emotionally you’re fucked up from the shit that happened so even if you did want to do any of these things that are expected of you by society, you feel sick when you think about them.

I had relationships. A lot of them really, I mean for someone who struggled so much with understanding what I was feeling. But then I wanted to travel, I wanted to go to University, I wanted to do things. I know some people, they can do it all but me, no. Emotionally I had to decide where I was putting most of my energy and eventually I decided that it had to be invested in me, not in meeting someone or getting married or having kids. Those were things that would happen if they happened. Not things I needed to make happen. So I stopped trying to always been in a relationship and I did so.much.stuff! I mean I have done ten times more in my lifetime so far than I ever dreamed I would do. Literally dreamed. I have lived dreams.  I couldn’t have done that if I’d focused on being in a relationship or having kids. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to be in a relationship. I would LOVE to meet someone and be comfortable and share all of these things with them but it hasn’t happened and I’m not sorry that I haven’t put my dreams on hold just so people wouldn’t question me about who I am.

And as you get older they do question. “Are you married? Do you have kids? What does your boyfriend think of this? I bet your husband doesn’t like this.” So many assumptions. I never really wanted to get married. I know now, I definitely don’t want to get married. So thankfully I never followed that expectation, right?

I wanted kids, yes. Then I ended up at a point where I kind of knew I would always be an at risk pregnancy so having kids was something I had to realize I probably would never do. No, that wasn’t easy. I have spent and still spend time feeling sad that I never had kids. I would’ve been a great fucking mom. I love kids so I think I might even come off as a bit creepy with how much I love everyone else’s kids. Actually I love young people in general…babies to teenagers…to young adults. They are so awesome!

The boyfriend/husband questions…those are my favourites because those just irritate me. Asking me if I have a boyfriend/husband assumes that I am straight. Which is rude. Also assuming that I should have one is rude. That has always bothered me because after what I went through the last thing I ever wanted was to need a man. BUT then I get the assumptions that because I don’t always have a boyfriend or I’ve never been married I must be a lesbian. So because I decided to think about me and what I wanted to do instead of doing what was expected of me, I am somehow an anomaly in the world of women to the “normies”.

That brings me to this, yes, I would love to be in a relationship. Most times I am not jealous of my friends but every so often I have a tinge of jealousy because sometimes yes it would be nice to have someone to do things with. I sometimes wish I’d had a few weeks of just slutting it up because I am a human and I get horny too. I just never did that. I was too busy doing other things. Would I give up all of the fucking amazing things I’ve done with my life or that I am still going to do with my life just so I could have some sex and a relationship? No. I get lonely in all of the ways a human can get lonely but I need me more than I need anyone and if I stopped doing what I want and started to focus on meeting someone or getting laid, I’d be miserable. Does that make sense? If not, I’m not surprised because not too many people have ever really understood me but luckily, enough people have loved me anyway. I haven’t given up on having a relationship.

I am in no way, shape or form judging anyone who has focused on a relationship or given things up to have kids, etc. No way. I fully respect everyone’s choices. I fully understand how different we all are. We are all similar but all very different. It’s kind of cool really. Or maybe I just think too much.

Sharing an important issue

Tags

, , , ,

Ione Wells touches on some very important issues to me. One of those is the idea of dealing with your own assault by writing (or whatever healthy outlet you use) and knowing that it is not only helping you but may also help others. It helps others to see that it is okay to be upset, that there are others who have experienced what you have and that you don’t have to be ashamed of what happened to you.

Give it a watch, it’s super interesting…

 

Ione Wells: How we talk about sexual assault online

PS: When you see someone discussing sexual assault try leaving a positive comment for them because that could help with a bad day. Every piece of love counts.

“I don’t ask…”

Tags

, , , , ,

Trigger Warning: This article contains discussion on Donald Trump, which is bad enough but to make matters worse, it discusses rape culture. So it might upset some. Read with caution.

So they did it. They managed to get a known sexual predator into office. I spent the better part of yesterday crying between trying to get rid of a three day migraine and I’ll tell you that the migraine is easier to deal with than the fact that a sexual predator is moving into the White House.

So far, anyone I know who did vote for him (and I don’t know who I know who did), hasn’t had the guts to come forward and actually address any questions I have asked. Which is interesting for people who seem so gung ho to have this idiot in office. Okay so he is not a smart person, he can’t be trusted to say things because he has the mentality of a ten year old (and most ten year olds are smarter than him really), he has no experience in politics, has filed for bankruptcy like four times so he’s a terrible business man, racist, homophobic, sexist…blah blah blah, I mean I can almost see WHY you would want this guy in charge of the country. He sounds like a really upstanding guy that should be trusted with foreign policy, our future, war issues, the nations’s finances, etc. Good going! All this aside though and suppose he does managed to pull a 180, which I doubt, and manage to do some good for the country? People keep saying this to me, “Well he might really do some things that surprise us, who knows?”

Really? Really? You think that matters to me? You think that matters to those of us who have been raped or assaulted? The man is a sexual predator. I don’t care if he makes us all millionaires, he should not be excused into a position of power! That is so fucking ridiculous I can’t even believe people are just excusing it. It sickens me. That alone is reason he should not have been allowed to even run. If this happened to be Obama he would’ve been tarred and feathered because he isn’t a fucking white guy. This country is far more racist than I thought and that much has been proven to me in a big way. I knew it before but this is huge. This is a president we are talking about. I mean what the fuck kind of role model is this guy? He isn’t. He’s a disgusting, immoral and ignorant sexual predator…racist scum who should not be allowed to hold office anywhere.

If you need a reminder about what he is like aside from the rape and sexual assault accusations (including the one where a woman was taking him to court for raping her at 13 and she ended up dropping the suit because of threats. Shocking, isn’t it?) Trump and rape culture

My stomach turns when I see these cartoons that are out there depicting him in sexual situations because they all suggest rape. It’s offensive to think anyone would think this was okay in any way. I spent election night having flashbacks to my stepfather laughing at me. He always laughed at me when I got upset about something or if I tried to do something and it didn’t work. He laughed at me if I got upset when he groped at me. Laughed, in my face. So all night I saw him laughing at me. I spent the night feeling like I was back in that house with him and all of that sick in the stomach, anger, frustration and fear just as real as they were back then. Now though, it is being caused by half of the country who decided that what happened to me is nothing. What is happening right now to someone else, somewhere…means nothing. What will continue to happen because of this man, means nothing. He has encouraged bullying, racism, sexism. Encouraged it. So I wonder how many people have been assaulted or raped by men who think this guy is great? How many wives or girlfriends have had to deal with an abusive man who finds this guy funny because he talks like that and justifies the abuser/rapists actions and attitude? Will it be funny when it is one of his supporter’s daughters? Or wait, will they just tell her to shut up and deal with it. Get over it? Probably, because I can’t imagine that anyone who would vote for this trash would be a good parent in the first place.

Shame on America.

On Trump and Sexual Assault Survivors

Tags

, , , , , , ,

*WARNING: This blog will contain discussion about sexual assault, rape, Donald Trump. So if any of these things may cause anxiety and/or flashbacks, PTSD triggers, etc. Please read with caution.*

Donald Trump has said a lot of really stupid things, we already know this, but I am not here to talk about this. As a survivor of rape, I want to discuss just what this means to me and perhaps many survivors in this country who have fought to see justice. The newscasts, the commentary and even the quotes from Trump himself have all been somewhat triggering to me. Many of us have seen our perpetrators, rapists, etc get away with what they’ve done to us. This isn’t something that happens and you get over it. It’s a lifetime struggle and not only do many (most) of us struggle with having to live with what happened to us, we have to live with the fact that the person who did these things to us is still out there unpunished. We see this everyday.

To see a sexual predator be hailed, held up and given the opportunity to lead a country, to gain power, is a serious kick in the teeth and a sign that this country has not moved forward in dealing with these individuals. It is a sign to me, personally, that what I went through for 10 years means nothing to those who support him and especially, my own government. I’m going to say this, and I don’t care if there are people who will tell me I am wrong, but if this was Obama he would’ve been removed by now. If this was not a white man, they would use the words ‘rape’ more often than ‘assault’. They would revel in dragging him through the mud. But that isn’t the case here. No, instead this man, who has been accused, sued, and proven to be sexist and disrespectful to women is being heralded by half of this country as the perfect man to run this country. It makes me sick. I have no doubt that there are women who support this man who have been raped themselves and for whatever reason, they refuse to realize what this means. I feel sorry for them and can only assume they never got the help they needed or even accepted what they had been through.

His supporters will make excuse after excuse for him. And that tells me that these people do not mind having a rapist for a president. What if Hillary had sexually assaulted someone? Do you really think she would have this many supporters? No, there would be a witch trial against her. Instead, we are more concerned about a woman who used the wrong email than we are about a man who has been accused, on multiple occasions of sexually assaulting women, not to mention being caught on tape making extremely sexist remarks, groping a woman and then using excuse after excuse to try to validate his sick remarks. This is a country that has a long way to go if we want to see women treated like human beings and survivors to get the respect and justice they deserve. This is sad, disgusting, infuriating and embarrassing.

I worry for the safety of survivors who will have to cope with this should he be elected. The depression, set backs, flashbacks, PTSD all flooding back at the thought of having someone like this lead the country. I worry that it will cause many people to feel even more hopeless than they might already, maybe want to hurt themselves. This doesn’t just apply to female survivors but male and trans survivors as well. To support a man like this, sexual predator, is to tell these people, us, that what we went through means nothing and that sexual predators are not accountable for their actions. It is a bitter pill to swallow for me and one that is causing me great anxiety, sadness and hopelessness. It hurts. I don’t know if I have friends who support this man, but if I do, that hurts even more.

This is my worst nightmare. This brings back memories of people telling me to “get over it” or “he didn’t do anything you didn’t let him do” or “well you’re not around him anymore so why worry?”. This country does not feel like a safe place. I don’t feel safe, even more so than before.

screen-shot-2016-11-03-at-9-10-34-am

“You know, it doesn’t really matter what [the media] write as long as you’ve got a young and beautiful piece of ass.” — from an interview with Esquire, 1991

“Women have one of the great acts of all time. The smart ones act very feminine and needy, but inside they are real killers. The person who came up with the expression ‘the weaker sex’ was either very naive or had to be kidding. I have seen women manipulate men with just a twitch of their eye — or perhaps another body part.” — Trump: The Art of the Comeback, 1997

screen-shot-2016-11-03-at-9-15-49-am

“My favorite part [of ‘Pulp Fiction’] is when Sam has his gun out in the diner and he tells the guy to tell his girlfriend to shut up. Tell that bitch to be cool. Say: ‘Bitch be cool.’ I love those lines.” — TrumpNation: The Art of Being The Donald, 2005

“I did try and f— her,” Trump tells Bush in reference to a married woman, while acknowledging he was unsuccessful. “I moved on her like a b—- but I couldn’t get there,” Trump says.

“I don’t even wait.” Trump says. “And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything — grab them by the p—-.”