I'm still waiting to hear from RAINN about my Speakers Bureau application. In the meantime, I've been coming up with other ways to raise awareness and support for survivors. I decided that one of those ways is to raise some moolah for RAINN.
This organization is really important to me. The resources they have given me personally have given me help beyond expectation. The assault hotline got me through many a night when I thought the entire world was hopeless. The people I have interacted with on the other end of the phone have always been helpful and given me so much hope.
RAINN does not just provide hotlines, they provide several resources for victims and promote awareness and understanding.
Here is the link to my donation page: http://rainnmakers.rainn.org/kconnell
My goal is to raise $500 for this organization by April 30th. The month of April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month and I think it would be great to donate as much as possible to RAINN by the end of that month.
This organization is so special to me, and it would mean so much if you could donate whatever you can. :)
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Monday, February 25, 2013
The Great Escape
I was having a conversation today with a friend I had made since my assault (she's someone I connected with on Tumblr. She's awesome) and she brought up how she has dealt with her own assault. We compared notes on a ton of different things when we got to the subject of suicide. **This is where I urge you to stop reading if you get upset easily, or think you might have a meltdown on me**
She was telling me that she had attempted to kill herself three times within 6 months of her assault, but that something always seemed to get in the way. She asked if I had ever dealt with anything like that which is when I told her something I have never told anyone ever. Not my parents, not my sisters, not my best friend, not my therapist. Before this afternoon there was only ever one other person in the world (besides myself) who knew that I had attempted suicide December 2011.
Everyone seems to know the story about how in October 2011 I sat on my bathroom floor staring at a bottle of pills, when Whitney called and urged me to come over and spend time with her. Everyone knows that I obliged. Everyone knows that that one night spent with my best friend is the reason I made it through the weekend. Everyone knows she pretty much saved my life.
I never told anyone in the weeks after that, that I would drive down the road, find a patch of trees and be tempted to run off of the road straight into them. A simple solution to a complex problem. I was usually able to shake that thought out of my mind. I was never able to think "no. i'd be better off alive". No, what stopped me every time was the thought of "what happens if all I do is get hurt, and it doesn't happen how I want it to?" Kind of a crappy way to think, huh?
Anyway, December was a tough month for me that year. I had a part time job and wouldn't be able to go home for Christmas. This was the first time in my 21 years of life I hadn't been with my family for Christmas. I was miserable almost that entire month, except from the day my mom arrived tiitl I ended up in the hospital.
The friend I am about to talk about asked that he not be named. He doesn't want credit for what I'm about to explain, and he doesn't want people to talk to him about it. He said he doesn't mind if I post it on here but that it's something that he just doesn't like to discuss.
I scared him. I didn't want to.
One day he had called me and asked how I was doing and I said fine. I was very short with him and we didn't have a very long conversation. I had a plan, and I didn't want him to ruin it. I was afraid if I talked to him for too long I would spill my guts and he would come over and try to be a hero. I hung up with him and about two hours later he texted me saying that he felt like I wasn't doing very well. My response to him was "I'll be perfect pretty soon." I don't know how, but that sent up the biggest red flag and he knew trouble was a brewin'. He hopped in his car and came right over. One of my roommates was on her way out right when he knocked on the door. I was sitting on the floor of my bathroom with a bunch of old painkillers.
I heard them have a brief conversation. I knew he was coming for me. She let him in and left and I panicked. I opened those bottles and grabbed a bunch of medication out of them. I popped as many as I could into my mouth right as he busted through the bathroom door (we didn't have locks so it wasn't that hard).
I don't remember all of what happened next super clearly. I remember him grabbing my mouth and wrenching it open. He scooped what he could out of my mouth. I had only managed to swallow one or two pills. I started screaming at him. He was very calm and picked up every medication I had. He then proceeded to dump every single medication in my bathroom into the toilet. When I say every single one I mean EVERYTHING....the ibuprofen, the painkillers, everything but the antidepressants. I remember beating on his back with my fists at first out of anger, and then out of panic. I begged him to leave and let me do what I intended to do. He flushed the toilet and my only hope was gone.
I screamed at him and kept repeating "What did you do!?!? You ruined everything! I hate you!"
He stayed with me that weekend, making sure I took my prozac, and making sure I didn't take anything else. He confiscated my razors so I didn't shave my legs for like 3 weeks (my moustache grew out those weeks too :D ) And he drove me to the health center the next Monday where they upped my medication because I told them I had been having thoughts of self harm (no way in hell was I going to tell them I tried it).
He really did save my life, and I really am grateful for it. I never really told anyone about that day because I didn't want mass panic to ensue. But honestly? It's been such a long time now and I'm so over that part of my healing that it doesn't even matter.
I've come to the conclusion that if I'm going to share as much as I have thus far, that I may as well be totally and completely honest.
I like my life now, and I wouldn't cut it short for anything.
:)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Wl5-audkPY
*Under the following line I am posting my story...the original explanation of my rape. I'm doing this because some of you started reading this well after my original post and have been asking me about it. Reposting it is so much easier than repeating myself a thousand and eighty times!*
_______________________________________________________________________
On May 5, 2011 I went to a small party at a friend's apartment. I thought I would have a great night, I never expected my life to be completely turned upside down. By midnight there were only 5 of us left. We were drinking, laughing, listening to music, arguing about who would buy everyone pizza. One of his roommates was pretty cute in my opinion and I flirted with him like crazy. He flirted right on back and I really ended up liking him. He was funny, liked the same type of music and just seemed like a genuinely nice guy. I ended up kissing him....a lot, and after a while I noticed my friend being weird and just staring at us. When his roommate asked if I'd rather go upstairs where my friend wasn't being a total creep I agreed. There was a living room area up there and I felt safe with him. Biggest mistake of my life. To make a long story short, we ended up in his bedroom where he raped and threatened to kill me for 2.5 hours. The longest 2.5 hours of my life. I walked out of that room shaking and immediately asked my friend to take me home. 20 Minutes after he dropped me off he called to ask what happened. After I told him everything he told me that he was not blaming my rapist because I had been drinking and should have been more careful. I took a shower and went to bed. The entire next day I replayed what happened in my head. Had I wanted it? Was what happened to me ok? Why did I feel so disgusting? Was I that drunk? I was afraid to call the police because I wouldn't be 21 for a couple of more weeks and I didn't want to get in any trouble. After many hours, and 3 showers trying to scrub the disgust off of me, I called a friend and confided in her. Her reaction? "He RAPED you! Call the police I'll be there in 15 minutes." I will never forget that. Thank you Cassy for being there for me that night. The police came and took a statement and asked if I wanted to press charges. I did. I was then taken to the ER where I sat from 10:30pm until 8:30 am being poked and prodded, interviewed again and again. Going through the trauma of a rape kit in the hopes I could get some justice. I called my mom and finally broke down. The next week was filled with police interviews and physical healing. I was starting to realize that though my physical bruises were healing, I had a long road ahead of me for the mental and emotional bruises. In June I got the call that despite efforts from the detective working on my case, the coward who changed my life would never be formally charged or arrested.
In October 2011 I became so depressed I wanted to kill myself. I was about to do it when a friend called and invited me over that night, not taking no for an answer. I truly believe that phone call is what saved my life. After that I started seeing a psychiatrist and was put on anti depressants and medication for anxiety. I slowly started returning to my "normal" self with a lot of help from therapy. In January I took a few steps back when I ended up in the Cone Behavioral Health hospital after a misunderstanding with my therapist at the time. That experience was terrifying to me....mainly because I had felt I shouldn't be there. After a change of therapist and medications I began feeling a lot better. In March my car was keyed and my tires slashed....I can only assume it was the jerks involved in my assault, which brought me back to an awful place. I was stalked and harassed and forced to leave my home. I no longer felt safe.
After moving in April I began to REALLY piece my life back together. I got a call in June that the guy who raped me was accused of raping another girl somewhere else. Her case was dropped as well.
Why am I putting all of this on the internet? Why am I telling you people? Because I have the hope that one day someone will see this and know that if I survived they can too. Did all of this suck? Hell yeah it did. Did I make it? Yes. Do I have a lot to look forward to? Absolutely. There are a lot of stories in the media about rape and sexual violence and I've realized so many people don't know the statistics, don't know how to handle the information they're given, and think 'that could never happen to me'. I never thought it could happen to me. I lived in a bubble. It sucks that it happened, but it really has made me stronger. And I'm ready to find my voice again. If you're still reading this, I hope you'll join me on my journey...and invite others to join as well. Who knows, maybe someday this could really impact someone.
She was telling me that she had attempted to kill herself three times within 6 months of her assault, but that something always seemed to get in the way. She asked if I had ever dealt with anything like that which is when I told her something I have never told anyone ever. Not my parents, not my sisters, not my best friend, not my therapist. Before this afternoon there was only ever one other person in the world (besides myself) who knew that I had attempted suicide December 2011.
Everyone seems to know the story about how in October 2011 I sat on my bathroom floor staring at a bottle of pills, when Whitney called and urged me to come over and spend time with her. Everyone knows that I obliged. Everyone knows that that one night spent with my best friend is the reason I made it through the weekend. Everyone knows she pretty much saved my life.
I never told anyone in the weeks after that, that I would drive down the road, find a patch of trees and be tempted to run off of the road straight into them. A simple solution to a complex problem. I was usually able to shake that thought out of my mind. I was never able to think "no. i'd be better off alive". No, what stopped me every time was the thought of "what happens if all I do is get hurt, and it doesn't happen how I want it to?" Kind of a crappy way to think, huh?
Anyway, December was a tough month for me that year. I had a part time job and wouldn't be able to go home for Christmas. This was the first time in my 21 years of life I hadn't been with my family for Christmas. I was miserable almost that entire month, except from the day my mom arrived tiitl I ended up in the hospital.
The friend I am about to talk about asked that he not be named. He doesn't want credit for what I'm about to explain, and he doesn't want people to talk to him about it. He said he doesn't mind if I post it on here but that it's something that he just doesn't like to discuss.
I scared him. I didn't want to.
One day he had called me and asked how I was doing and I said fine. I was very short with him and we didn't have a very long conversation. I had a plan, and I didn't want him to ruin it. I was afraid if I talked to him for too long I would spill my guts and he would come over and try to be a hero. I hung up with him and about two hours later he texted me saying that he felt like I wasn't doing very well. My response to him was "I'll be perfect pretty soon." I don't know how, but that sent up the biggest red flag and he knew trouble was a brewin'. He hopped in his car and came right over. One of my roommates was on her way out right when he knocked on the door. I was sitting on the floor of my bathroom with a bunch of old painkillers.
I heard them have a brief conversation. I knew he was coming for me. She let him in and left and I panicked. I opened those bottles and grabbed a bunch of medication out of them. I popped as many as I could into my mouth right as he busted through the bathroom door (we didn't have locks so it wasn't that hard).
I don't remember all of what happened next super clearly. I remember him grabbing my mouth and wrenching it open. He scooped what he could out of my mouth. I had only managed to swallow one or two pills. I started screaming at him. He was very calm and picked up every medication I had. He then proceeded to dump every single medication in my bathroom into the toilet. When I say every single one I mean EVERYTHING....the ibuprofen, the painkillers, everything but the antidepressants. I remember beating on his back with my fists at first out of anger, and then out of panic. I begged him to leave and let me do what I intended to do. He flushed the toilet and my only hope was gone.
I screamed at him and kept repeating "What did you do!?!? You ruined everything! I hate you!"
He stayed with me that weekend, making sure I took my prozac, and making sure I didn't take anything else. He confiscated my razors so I didn't shave my legs for like 3 weeks (my moustache grew out those weeks too :D ) And he drove me to the health center the next Monday where they upped my medication because I told them I had been having thoughts of self harm (no way in hell was I going to tell them I tried it).
He really did save my life, and I really am grateful for it. I never really told anyone about that day because I didn't want mass panic to ensue. But honestly? It's been such a long time now and I'm so over that part of my healing that it doesn't even matter.
I've come to the conclusion that if I'm going to share as much as I have thus far, that I may as well be totally and completely honest.
I like my life now, and I wouldn't cut it short for anything.
:)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Wl5-audkPY
*Under the following line I am posting my story...the original explanation of my rape. I'm doing this because some of you started reading this well after my original post and have been asking me about it. Reposting it is so much easier than repeating myself a thousand and eighty times!*
_______________________________________________________________________
On May 5, 2011 I went to a small party at a friend's apartment. I thought I would have a great night, I never expected my life to be completely turned upside down. By midnight there were only 5 of us left. We were drinking, laughing, listening to music, arguing about who would buy everyone pizza. One of his roommates was pretty cute in my opinion and I flirted with him like crazy. He flirted right on back and I really ended up liking him. He was funny, liked the same type of music and just seemed like a genuinely nice guy. I ended up kissing him....a lot, and after a while I noticed my friend being weird and just staring at us. When his roommate asked if I'd rather go upstairs where my friend wasn't being a total creep I agreed. There was a living room area up there and I felt safe with him. Biggest mistake of my life. To make a long story short, we ended up in his bedroom where he raped and threatened to kill me for 2.5 hours. The longest 2.5 hours of my life. I walked out of that room shaking and immediately asked my friend to take me home. 20 Minutes after he dropped me off he called to ask what happened. After I told him everything he told me that he was not blaming my rapist because I had been drinking and should have been more careful. I took a shower and went to bed. The entire next day I replayed what happened in my head. Had I wanted it? Was what happened to me ok? Why did I feel so disgusting? Was I that drunk? I was afraid to call the police because I wouldn't be 21 for a couple of more weeks and I didn't want to get in any trouble. After many hours, and 3 showers trying to scrub the disgust off of me, I called a friend and confided in her. Her reaction? "He RAPED you! Call the police I'll be there in 15 minutes." I will never forget that. Thank you Cassy for being there for me that night. The police came and took a statement and asked if I wanted to press charges. I did. I was then taken to the ER where I sat from 10:30pm until 8:30 am being poked and prodded, interviewed again and again. Going through the trauma of a rape kit in the hopes I could get some justice. I called my mom and finally broke down. The next week was filled with police interviews and physical healing. I was starting to realize that though my physical bruises were healing, I had a long road ahead of me for the mental and emotional bruises. In June I got the call that despite efforts from the detective working on my case, the coward who changed my life would never be formally charged or arrested.
In October 2011 I became so depressed I wanted to kill myself. I was about to do it when a friend called and invited me over that night, not taking no for an answer. I truly believe that phone call is what saved my life. After that I started seeing a psychiatrist and was put on anti depressants and medication for anxiety. I slowly started returning to my "normal" self with a lot of help from therapy. In January I took a few steps back when I ended up in the Cone Behavioral Health hospital after a misunderstanding with my therapist at the time. That experience was terrifying to me....mainly because I had felt I shouldn't be there. After a change of therapist and medications I began feeling a lot better. In March my car was keyed and my tires slashed....I can only assume it was the jerks involved in my assault, which brought me back to an awful place. I was stalked and harassed and forced to leave my home. I no longer felt safe.
After moving in April I began to REALLY piece my life back together. I got a call in June that the guy who raped me was accused of raping another girl somewhere else. Her case was dropped as well.
Why am I putting all of this on the internet? Why am I telling you people? Because I have the hope that one day someone will see this and know that if I survived they can too. Did all of this suck? Hell yeah it did. Did I make it? Yes. Do I have a lot to look forward to? Absolutely. There are a lot of stories in the media about rape and sexual violence and I've realized so many people don't know the statistics, don't know how to handle the information they're given, and think 'that could never happen to me'. I never thought it could happen to me. I lived in a bubble. It sucks that it happened, but it really has made me stronger. And I'm ready to find my voice again. If you're still reading this, I hope you'll join me on my journey...and invite others to join as well. Who knows, maybe someday this could really impact someone.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Get it Together Colorado
The past few weeks have been so stinkin' stressful! I think a lot of it has to do with my lack of medication. I just decided one day to stop taking it because I don't like how I feel on it. They make me tired and sort of out of it and I am sooo sick of it. Unfortunately I don't think you're supposed to stop that crap cold turkey and of course, being the genius that I am, I did just that. My anxiety is under control-ish but my OCD is way out of freaking control! Every little 'off' thing is literally driving me nuts. When we were writing lesson plans today, my template didn't line up perfectly and I finally had to walk away from it. The problem? I seriously have not stopped thinking about how the boxes don't line up perfectly since 4:15 this afternoon. Big sign that I have issues? Aw yeah.
Before I get into the big problem I have with the world, I just need to throw in there that last Friday was the best day of my life. I saw Rascal Flatts and I got to sit next to the stage and it was awesome. I was also really proud of myself because some old guy (and by old I mean he was like 50, and before you jump down my throat....if you were 22 years old and were getting hit on by some dude as old as your dad you would be calling him an old man too!) told me he'd give my friend a guitar pick if he could take one of us home and I didn't even throw up or panic. I told him off instead :) It was nice to have the old Kayleigh peaking through!
Today I was checking Facebook while I was getting ready to leave work and I saw something that made me think "Colorado needs to get it together".
Apparently some university in Colorado had posted the top tips for preventing a rape. I (through a LOT of searching) finally found the list in its entirety. The following list (with the tips I deem the worst being highlighted) was:
1.Be realistic about your ability to protect yourself.
2.Your instinct may be to scream, go ahead! It may startle your attacker and give you an opportunity to run away.
3.Kick off your shoes if you have time and can’t run in them.
4.Don’t take time to look back; just get away.
5.If your life is in danger, passive resistance may be your best defense.
6.Tell your attacker that you have a disease or are menstruating.
7.Vomiting or urinating may also convince the attacker to leave you alone.
8.Yelling, hitting or biting may give you a chance to escape, do it!
9.Understand that some actions on your part might lead to more harm.
I find it hard to believe that number 6 would really work. I tried the whole "I have my period" thing and do you think that idiot cared? I am telling you from PERSONAL EXPERIENCE that saying you have a disease or your period won't typically deter a rape. And in response to number 7, I don't know that I could make myself vomit or pee on demand. Especially if I'm scared! Who is going to stop while they're being raped and fighting for their lives and think, "Gee! Let me just throw up real quick!"
I think my biggest issue with this list is not that their tips are the dumbest things I have ever seen in my life. I understand why they posted it on their webpage. I am absolutely positively not against making women aware of what to do in dangerous situations. I think, though, that they need to be taking different measures. Offer self defense classes, educate your entire campus on rape and try to prevent victim blaming.
Their intentions were good, I'll give them that. I just don't necessarily agree with how they've gone about it.
Another problem I have is that a lot of these things seem kind of obvious. They're basically telling you to fight, and I think for a lot of girls who go through this, fighting is a survival instinct that just kicks in. I don't know how similar my experience is to any other woman's, but I know for me I didn't think before I acted. I don't even remember what prompted me to start biting, and kicking, and screaming. I just went into survival mode.
Maybe this school should be giving resources too on where to find help. I also think that if they are going to put a list like this one on their website, they should also be making a list that goes right next to it listing all of the ways they are trying to make their campus safe, and what THEY are doing to prevent assault and assist victims. I would be more interested in that list!
A lot of you won't agree with me, and that's fine. Everyone I've talked to about this have been pretty split opinion wise. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. I just know that if UNCG had ever sent out anything like this I would have been marching my booty straight to the Dean of Students Office. I had to have a talk with my own school after my stint in the nut house. Instead of supporting me and seeing what they could do to help me, they forced me to seek therapy (if I did not they would take disciplinary action). I was the one treated like the bad guy by my own university and I was not ok with that. I mentioned that to one campus office, and made suggestions about what they could do to assist victims instead. Honestly, if I went to this school in Colorado we would be having the same conversation.
What's your take on it? Agree with me? Disagree with me? Not sure what to think?
P.S. I have also made the decision today to apply to become a public speaker for RAINN :)
Before I get into the big problem I have with the world, I just need to throw in there that last Friday was the best day of my life. I saw Rascal Flatts and I got to sit next to the stage and it was awesome. I was also really proud of myself because some old guy (and by old I mean he was like 50, and before you jump down my throat....if you were 22 years old and were getting hit on by some dude as old as your dad you would be calling him an old man too!) told me he'd give my friend a guitar pick if he could take one of us home and I didn't even throw up or panic. I told him off instead :) It was nice to have the old Kayleigh peaking through!
Today I was checking Facebook while I was getting ready to leave work and I saw something that made me think "Colorado needs to get it together".
Apparently some university in Colorado had posted the top tips for preventing a rape. I (through a LOT of searching) finally found the list in its entirety. The following list (with the tips I deem the worst being highlighted) was:
1.Be realistic about your ability to protect yourself.
2.Your instinct may be to scream, go ahead! It may startle your attacker and give you an opportunity to run away.
3.Kick off your shoes if you have time and can’t run in them.
4.Don’t take time to look back; just get away.
5.If your life is in danger, passive resistance may be your best defense.
6.Tell your attacker that you have a disease or are menstruating.
7.Vomiting or urinating may also convince the attacker to leave you alone.
8.Yelling, hitting or biting may give you a chance to escape, do it!
9.Understand that some actions on your part might lead to more harm.
I find it hard to believe that number 6 would really work. I tried the whole "I have my period" thing and do you think that idiot cared? I am telling you from PERSONAL EXPERIENCE that saying you have a disease or your period won't typically deter a rape. And in response to number 7, I don't know that I could make myself vomit or pee on demand. Especially if I'm scared! Who is going to stop while they're being raped and fighting for their lives and think, "Gee! Let me just throw up real quick!"
I think my biggest issue with this list is not that their tips are the dumbest things I have ever seen in my life. I understand why they posted it on their webpage. I am absolutely positively not against making women aware of what to do in dangerous situations. I think, though, that they need to be taking different measures. Offer self defense classes, educate your entire campus on rape and try to prevent victim blaming.
Their intentions were good, I'll give them that. I just don't necessarily agree with how they've gone about it.
Another problem I have is that a lot of these things seem kind of obvious. They're basically telling you to fight, and I think for a lot of girls who go through this, fighting is a survival instinct that just kicks in. I don't know how similar my experience is to any other woman's, but I know for me I didn't think before I acted. I don't even remember what prompted me to start biting, and kicking, and screaming. I just went into survival mode.
Maybe this school should be giving resources too on where to find help. I also think that if they are going to put a list like this one on their website, they should also be making a list that goes right next to it listing all of the ways they are trying to make their campus safe, and what THEY are doing to prevent assault and assist victims. I would be more interested in that list!
A lot of you won't agree with me, and that's fine. Everyone I've talked to about this have been pretty split opinion wise. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. I just know that if UNCG had ever sent out anything like this I would have been marching my booty straight to the Dean of Students Office. I had to have a talk with my own school after my stint in the nut house. Instead of supporting me and seeing what they could do to help me, they forced me to seek therapy (if I did not they would take disciplinary action). I was the one treated like the bad guy by my own university and I was not ok with that. I mentioned that to one campus office, and made suggestions about what they could do to assist victims instead. Honestly, if I went to this school in Colorado we would be having the same conversation.
What's your take on it? Agree with me? Disagree with me? Not sure what to think?
P.S. I have also made the decision today to apply to become a public speaker for RAINN :)
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Keep it Classy, Walmart Shoppers
I woke up sick this morning and tried so hard to make it at work, which lasted all of 10 minutes (shout out to Lauren for bringing me red gatorade and throat drops! Friend of the year!). I had to call for a sub, and once she got there I drove straight home and fell asleep for 5 hours. It was a glorious sleep.
Every piece of food I have in my apartment is crunchy or something that will scratch my throat (and my big issue is that my throat hurts, and I'm in more pain than I would be if I had stepped on a lego barefoot.). So I decided to run to Walmart real quick to get some soup and ice cream. While I was there I overheard a conversation that really made me angry.
There was a group of women standing there (I don't even know if I can call them women they were so immature....) and they were talking about someone they didn't like. 2 of them were around my age and the other 2 looked like they were around my parents age. I'm grabbing my vanilla bean ice cream out of the freezer when I hear this interaction:
Girl 1: I really hate Christy! She is so stuck up!
Girl 2: Right!? She's such a whore!
Girl 3: She sleeps with anything that has 2 legs, God probably hates her.
Girl 4: That bitch deserves to be raped. Maybe then she'll learn to keep her legs closed and it'll knock her down a few pegs.
Girls 1-3: YES!
Are you KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?
Ok first of all let me be truthful. I cannot honestly say that I have never talked about anyone behind their back or complained about someone's life choices. I am not perfect. But after everything I have been through I refuse to call anyone a slut, whore, or any other derogatory term that questions (or destroys) someone's reputation. I have been there, I didn't appreciate it when it happened to me, and I will not do it to anybody else.
Ladies, when did we get to a point where it is OK for us to put each other down and wish such hateful things on each other? We should be lifting each other up, and supporting one another. To wish something as horrible as rape on another person just because you don't like them is ridiculous, and childish. I will not tolerate it, and none of you should either. It pains me to see people (not just women) treating one another like this. This is one of the reasons there are so many problems in the world.
Rape is a life changing event that I would wish on no one. You could be the most hateful person I have ever met and I would not wish that kind of pain on you.
It's not just this particular conversation that upsets me. I have heard people talking about people they act friendly towards. They say things that begin rumors and hurt reputations. They make comments on things that should be none of their business. I hear it everywhere. I don't believe that any of us have the right to judge others. We are all so beautifully imperfect. Our flaws and differences are what keep life interesting, and for you to try and destroy that in a moment of immaturity is pitiful.
We should not be tearing other people down because of our own insecurities. If you are that insecure, you need to go seek some help.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today I was looking through some pictures on Facebook and came across a picture of me that had been taken the day after I was released from the nut house. I just want you all to see how I looked then (a year ago) and compare it to how I look today.
Even though I'm smiling in this picture it's so obvious I was not ok. My skin is gray and my eyes? They're dead. It's like there was nothing going on in that noggin of mine. I was going through the motions and had no idea how to deal with my life at that point. I had found rock bottom, and hit it hard. Way hard. Everyone had thought I had gone to the deepest level of darkness possible in September....they had no idea what that January had in store for me. So glad that part of my life is gone and past, and that I don't look like this anymore (maybe every once in a while, but trust me last year this look hung out and took it's time getting to know me for a while).
Look at me now! Still pasty as ever ;) but don't I look happy, happy, happy? The light is back in my eyes, my smile is not fake. I have realized over the past year (well I guess it took me longer than that, since everything that went wrong happened almost 2 years ago) that I am one strong chick! I deserve to smile, I deserve to laugh, I deserve to be loved, and I deserve to be happy. It's OK for me to be goofy, it's OK for me to be sad once in a while, it's OK for me to talk about how I'm feeling (even if it means it makes me uncomfortable). Rape? Big, extended road block. Nut house? Hiccup. Realizing who I am and what I stand for? Worth it. If I died tomorrow I would want people to remember me like this and not like that slug from last January. I want to be remembered as a woman who took a bad situation and told it who's boss. I would want to be remembered as one tough girl who made it known that you can't keep her down. I want to be remembered as someone who did everything in her power to educate people on what she went through and help others who have gone through the same thing.
Before anyone panics, I don't plan on dying anytime soon. Writing this I felt like this one woman who used to say to me at family gatherings "I'll see you next time, but who knows, I could be dead!" :) I'm just saying if it were to happen any time soon I would hope people would remember me for the good things I have accomplished and not for my low points :)
Every piece of food I have in my apartment is crunchy or something that will scratch my throat (and my big issue is that my throat hurts, and I'm in more pain than I would be if I had stepped on a lego barefoot.). So I decided to run to Walmart real quick to get some soup and ice cream. While I was there I overheard a conversation that really made me angry.
There was a group of women standing there (I don't even know if I can call them women they were so immature....) and they were talking about someone they didn't like. 2 of them were around my age and the other 2 looked like they were around my parents age. I'm grabbing my vanilla bean ice cream out of the freezer when I hear this interaction:
Girl 1: I really hate Christy! She is so stuck up!
Girl 2: Right!? She's such a whore!
Girl 3: She sleeps with anything that has 2 legs, God probably hates her.
Girl 4: That bitch deserves to be raped. Maybe then she'll learn to keep her legs closed and it'll knock her down a few pegs.
Girls 1-3: YES!
Are you KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?
Ok first of all let me be truthful. I cannot honestly say that I have never talked about anyone behind their back or complained about someone's life choices. I am not perfect. But after everything I have been through I refuse to call anyone a slut, whore, or any other derogatory term that questions (or destroys) someone's reputation. I have been there, I didn't appreciate it when it happened to me, and I will not do it to anybody else.
Ladies, when did we get to a point where it is OK for us to put each other down and wish such hateful things on each other? We should be lifting each other up, and supporting one another. To wish something as horrible as rape on another person just because you don't like them is ridiculous, and childish. I will not tolerate it, and none of you should either. It pains me to see people (not just women) treating one another like this. This is one of the reasons there are so many problems in the world.
Rape is a life changing event that I would wish on no one. You could be the most hateful person I have ever met and I would not wish that kind of pain on you.
It's not just this particular conversation that upsets me. I have heard people talking about people they act friendly towards. They say things that begin rumors and hurt reputations. They make comments on things that should be none of their business. I hear it everywhere. I don't believe that any of us have the right to judge others. We are all so beautifully imperfect. Our flaws and differences are what keep life interesting, and for you to try and destroy that in a moment of immaturity is pitiful.
We should not be tearing other people down because of our own insecurities. If you are that insecure, you need to go seek some help.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today I was looking through some pictures on Facebook and came across a picture of me that had been taken the day after I was released from the nut house. I just want you all to see how I looked then (a year ago) and compare it to how I look today.
Before anyone panics, I don't plan on dying anytime soon. Writing this I felt like this one woman who used to say to me at family gatherings "I'll see you next time, but who knows, I could be dead!" :) I'm just saying if it were to happen any time soon I would hope people would remember me for the good things I have accomplished and not for my low points :)
Monday, January 28, 2013
22
"HEY I don't know about you, but I'm feelin' 22..." I love that Taylor Swift song. Describes life perfectly and reminds me of all of the fun memories I've been making with my friends this year! So yesterday I was really sad and mopey and upset. And it was AWESOME.
Yeah, you read that right!
I said......... awesome.
So what happened was I met this guy a while back and ended up really liking him. We started talking more and more over the past few months and I just really really liked him. Well yesterday I found out that he's been making some life choices that don't sit well with me. I was so upset. I told my friends my life was over. I slept on the couch for most of the day, ate a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream, cried a little, and watched The Lucky One.
At this point most of you are thinking "what is WRONG with her!? That doesn't sound very awesome at all!" Here's the thing. For the first time in a year and a half I was upset about things normal 22 year old girls get upset about.
For the first time I wasn't sad because I had been questioned, used, stalked, physically hurt, and mentally tormented. Nope. I was sad because some guy I thought was cute ended up not being as great as I thought, and preferred bouncing around to different girls instead of hanging out with me. It's funny thinking about how happy I was about this. My bad mood was not the result of thinking about my rape or dealing with an issue that had to do with my rape. My bad mood was the direct result of young adult drama, and I'm actually really grateful for it.
I'm grateful that I was reminded that I can be a normal person. I can have normal emotions. I can want normal things, and get upset when those things don't work out. I allowed myself to to react to something that was kind of stupid. I let myself be that stereotypical girl who drowns her boy problems in ice cream and chick flicks, and you know what? I really deserved a day like that.
It's nice to be reminded once in a while that you're allowed to get upset about things that aren't life or death. I'm allowed to focus on me sometimes. I don't always have to worry about everyone else, and I don't always need to have a serious reason to want to cry. I'm allowed to cry over stupid things. I'm allowed to dramatically yell that my life is over. I'm allowed to be normal.
So I guess I am a little upset still about everything that happened yesterday. But, I'm so happy that it's something kind of dumb that I'll get over by Wednesday and not something terrible.
Glad I can appreciate all of the ridiculous feelings my 22 year old self has :)
Yeah, you read that right!
I said......... awesome.
So what happened was I met this guy a while back and ended up really liking him. We started talking more and more over the past few months and I just really really liked him. Well yesterday I found out that he's been making some life choices that don't sit well with me. I was so upset. I told my friends my life was over. I slept on the couch for most of the day, ate a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream, cried a little, and watched The Lucky One.
At this point most of you are thinking "what is WRONG with her!? That doesn't sound very awesome at all!" Here's the thing. For the first time in a year and a half I was upset about things normal 22 year old girls get upset about.
For the first time I wasn't sad because I had been questioned, used, stalked, physically hurt, and mentally tormented. Nope. I was sad because some guy I thought was cute ended up not being as great as I thought, and preferred bouncing around to different girls instead of hanging out with me. It's funny thinking about how happy I was about this. My bad mood was not the result of thinking about my rape or dealing with an issue that had to do with my rape. My bad mood was the direct result of young adult drama, and I'm actually really grateful for it.
I'm grateful that I was reminded that I can be a normal person. I can have normal emotions. I can want normal things, and get upset when those things don't work out. I allowed myself to to react to something that was kind of stupid. I let myself be that stereotypical girl who drowns her boy problems in ice cream and chick flicks, and you know what? I really deserved a day like that.
It's nice to be reminded once in a while that you're allowed to get upset about things that aren't life or death. I'm allowed to focus on me sometimes. I don't always have to worry about everyone else, and I don't always need to have a serious reason to want to cry. I'm allowed to cry over stupid things. I'm allowed to dramatically yell that my life is over. I'm allowed to be normal.
So I guess I am a little upset still about everything that happened yesterday. But, I'm so happy that it's something kind of dumb that I'll get over by Wednesday and not something terrible.
Glad I can appreciate all of the ridiculous feelings my 22 year old self has :)
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Confessions of a Rape Victim
I was on Tumblr the other day and stumbled upon a blog that posted the confessions of different rape victims. Each was numbered differently and didn't have names or details...they were all just things that these people were feeling, thinking or experiencing. I realized that I go through all of these things too and that posting some of the things I go through and feel might be somewhat therapeutic. Some of these things are going to make some people not happy (because they are things that make me miserable) and some of them will probably not shock you at all. Some of this stuff is hard to verbalize, because I am so not confrontational at all and I KNOW that if I said anything at all about certain things it would just cause a huge argument. So here goes....
1. Sometimes I replay my rape in my mind for up to 2 hours, trying to figure out what I could have done differently and how I could have made him stop. I literally spend hours torturing myself because I've taken the majority of the blame whether I have wanted to or not. When you constantly have people telling you you're wrong, it's difficult to listen to those who tell you you've done things right.
2. Every once in a while I'll have the type of day where I just want to call my parents sobbing. The desire to call them usually happens after I've dissolved into hysterics, and I know it will scare them. So I always try to calm myself down first to a point, but by the time I've done that I'm too exhausted to even pick up the phone so I never call.
3. Ever since I told my parents about what happened to me I haven't been as comfortable talking to my dad. He knows way more about me then I ever wanted him to. I know that what was done to me makes him angry, but I've never figured out how to just tell him that I'm OK and that I'm going to be OK. None of that is his fault, it's mine because I'm such a baby about it. It's just kind of an awkward conversation to have with your dad.
4. For the longest time I found it so hard to talk to my mom. I knew what I was going through was hurting almost as much as it was hurting me. I found myself getting angry with her because I didn't understand why she was taking it so hard when I was the one being hurt. Some days I didn't want to answer her text messages and phone calls. I was afraid I would explode and upset her or hurt her some more. It's better now...sometimes I find myself getting upset with her when we talk about it and I'm not wanting to hear what she's saying. But I know that she chooses her words carefully and that they are things I NEED to hear.
5. Even though I act big and tough when people say hurtful things to me, it does what it's meant to do. It hurts. It hurts more than you can even know.
6. I haven't been able to go on a date and actually enjoy myself since I was attacked. I'm always on edge. If I catch myself starting to have a good time I sometimes think "no this is not allowed. this guy won't like you anyway. you are too ugly, emotionally unstable, crazy and damaged." I always hate myself for thinking that about me afterwards, because deep down I know it's not true. I'm just scared.
7. I want to talk about what happened to me. Not necessarily all of the time, but I DO want to talk about it. Every time I start to bring it up, whoever I am talking to starts looking really uncomfortable, gets quiet, and can't look me in the eye. I've started talking to myself (literally having conversations with myself) while I'm at home so I can get it off of my chest. It makes me feel crazy, and lonely, and is not as effective as talking to someone else.
8. I miss the encouragement I used to get when I was first raped. It's like once you hit a certain point, all of those daily and weekly reminders that you have people behind you go away. I don't think anyone realizes how much of a struggle it still is.
9. I know I put things on my blog that sometimes poke fun at my situation. But that doesn't mean I like to hear your rape jokes that make fun of victims and the emotions they go through.
10. Telling me that what I am feeling is wrong will not make me like you very much.
11. Sometimes I just want a hug....without having to ask for one.
12. The nightmares I have scare the life out of me. They don't happen often anymore but when they do, they wake me up and keep me awake frozen to my bed and terrified for my life.
13. The song The Great Escape by P!nk makes me emotional and is my new favorite.
I was thinking today and decided that I need to do something more with the hand I've been dealt. I think that some day I would love to start a non profit that gives the victims of date rape the tools, resources, and finances to deal with their struggle. The one thing I had a hard time with was finding support groups and places I could go that catered to date rape victims. In our society this term is still not taken seriously and I would love to be a part of an organization that took it seriously. Maybe someday I'll figure out how to start something like that. That's my new dream.
1. Sometimes I replay my rape in my mind for up to 2 hours, trying to figure out what I could have done differently and how I could have made him stop. I literally spend hours torturing myself because I've taken the majority of the blame whether I have wanted to or not. When you constantly have people telling you you're wrong, it's difficult to listen to those who tell you you've done things right.
2. Every once in a while I'll have the type of day where I just want to call my parents sobbing. The desire to call them usually happens after I've dissolved into hysterics, and I know it will scare them. So I always try to calm myself down first to a point, but by the time I've done that I'm too exhausted to even pick up the phone so I never call.
3. Ever since I told my parents about what happened to me I haven't been as comfortable talking to my dad. He knows way more about me then I ever wanted him to. I know that what was done to me makes him angry, but I've never figured out how to just tell him that I'm OK and that I'm going to be OK. None of that is his fault, it's mine because I'm such a baby about it. It's just kind of an awkward conversation to have with your dad.
4. For the longest time I found it so hard to talk to my mom. I knew what I was going through was hurting almost as much as it was hurting me. I found myself getting angry with her because I didn't understand why she was taking it so hard when I was the one being hurt. Some days I didn't want to answer her text messages and phone calls. I was afraid I would explode and upset her or hurt her some more. It's better now...sometimes I find myself getting upset with her when we talk about it and I'm not wanting to hear what she's saying. But I know that she chooses her words carefully and that they are things I NEED to hear.
5. Even though I act big and tough when people say hurtful things to me, it does what it's meant to do. It hurts. It hurts more than you can even know.
6. I haven't been able to go on a date and actually enjoy myself since I was attacked. I'm always on edge. If I catch myself starting to have a good time I sometimes think "no this is not allowed. this guy won't like you anyway. you are too ugly, emotionally unstable, crazy and damaged." I always hate myself for thinking that about me afterwards, because deep down I know it's not true. I'm just scared.
7. I want to talk about what happened to me. Not necessarily all of the time, but I DO want to talk about it. Every time I start to bring it up, whoever I am talking to starts looking really uncomfortable, gets quiet, and can't look me in the eye. I've started talking to myself (literally having conversations with myself) while I'm at home so I can get it off of my chest. It makes me feel crazy, and lonely, and is not as effective as talking to someone else.
8. I miss the encouragement I used to get when I was first raped. It's like once you hit a certain point, all of those daily and weekly reminders that you have people behind you go away. I don't think anyone realizes how much of a struggle it still is.
9. I know I put things on my blog that sometimes poke fun at my situation. But that doesn't mean I like to hear your rape jokes that make fun of victims and the emotions they go through.
10. Telling me that what I am feeling is wrong will not make me like you very much.
11. Sometimes I just want a hug....without having to ask for one.
12. The nightmares I have scare the life out of me. They don't happen often anymore but when they do, they wake me up and keep me awake frozen to my bed and terrified for my life.
13. The song The Great Escape by P!nk makes me emotional and is my new favorite.
I was thinking today and decided that I need to do something more with the hand I've been dealt. I think that some day I would love to start a non profit that gives the victims of date rape the tools, resources, and finances to deal with their struggle. The one thing I had a hard time with was finding support groups and places I could go that catered to date rape victims. In our society this term is still not taken seriously and I would love to be a part of an organization that took it seriously. Maybe someday I'll figure out how to start something like that. That's my new dream.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Anchor
So over Christmas Break I got a tattoo! I got it the Saturday before Christmas, and I am so obsessed with it. It turned out so well! It's on my right wrist and it's a small anchor. I've had several people ask why an anchor and so I've decided to take to the blog and explain :) I've already explained it to a few people (and if you can believe it one of them actually made fun of me for it. I'm not that close with that person anyway so whatever!)
I have always felt like anchors represent strength. I kind of compare myself to an anchor. Say a storm hits. The water gets really choppy, waves overtake everything, people scramble to protect themselves. All the while there's this anchor down in the water. It may sway here and there a bit depending on how rough things get, but it never fully removes itself from the sand. Though it may waiver on occasion, it stays put and stays strong against everything that comes at it.
I am that anchor.
I have always been set in my ways, had the same morals and values if not for my whole life then for quite some time. After I was raped my life got choppy and many different "waves" tried to move me from what I've always believed. People tried to protect themselves....they claimed it didn't happen, claimed they weren't involved, placed all blame on me in order to cover themselves.
Depression, anxiety and thoughts of suicide all threatened to disrupt my life, but in the end I stood strong and conquered each one (with the help of many doctors, counselors, and friends). People harassed me, tormented me....called me names, screamed at me on campus as I walked to class. They told me I was a slut, told me I was asking for it, told me that rape was something I'd obviously had coming to me. Told me it was God's way of punishing me (for what I guess I'll never know). People tried to tell me that my character was different than what I had always believed. Suddenly, according to them, I was no longer someone who loved others and often had to remind herself to take care of herself once in a while instead of constantly taking care of others. Nope. Now I was someone who was selfish. I was someone who destroyed lives, who crushed the dreams and ambitions of a man who brutally attacked me and raped me. Not that that last part was ever mentioned by those people....it always seemed to be a tiny insignificant detail that got left out.
I was stalked. I was followed around on campus. My car was keyed. My tires were slashed. It seemed like every time my life was starting to come together another wave came to knock me around.
I was admitted into a psychiatric hospital because of a counselor who often jumped to conclusions before she heard the entire story. That would have been enough to break anybody. But not me. It was just another hiccup in what is proving to be a very very long road to recovery.
Through all of those horrible events I remained set in my ways. Did I constantly question my values and ideas? Absolutely. But just because I questioned them does not mean I changed.
Instead, despite all of the trials, I stood strong in my own storm.
I am an anchor.
The anchor on my wrist may just be a tattoo.
To me, though, it is a constant reminder of who I am, where I came from, what I've been through.
Most importantly, though, it is a reminder that I am strong. And I am a survivor.
I have always felt like anchors represent strength. I kind of compare myself to an anchor. Say a storm hits. The water gets really choppy, waves overtake everything, people scramble to protect themselves. All the while there's this anchor down in the water. It may sway here and there a bit depending on how rough things get, but it never fully removes itself from the sand. Though it may waiver on occasion, it stays put and stays strong against everything that comes at it.
I am that anchor.
I have always been set in my ways, had the same morals and values if not for my whole life then for quite some time. After I was raped my life got choppy and many different "waves" tried to move me from what I've always believed. People tried to protect themselves....they claimed it didn't happen, claimed they weren't involved, placed all blame on me in order to cover themselves.
Depression, anxiety and thoughts of suicide all threatened to disrupt my life, but in the end I stood strong and conquered each one (with the help of many doctors, counselors, and friends). People harassed me, tormented me....called me names, screamed at me on campus as I walked to class. They told me I was a slut, told me I was asking for it, told me that rape was something I'd obviously had coming to me. Told me it was God's way of punishing me (for what I guess I'll never know). People tried to tell me that my character was different than what I had always believed. Suddenly, according to them, I was no longer someone who loved others and often had to remind herself to take care of herself once in a while instead of constantly taking care of others. Nope. Now I was someone who was selfish. I was someone who destroyed lives, who crushed the dreams and ambitions of a man who brutally attacked me and raped me. Not that that last part was ever mentioned by those people....it always seemed to be a tiny insignificant detail that got left out.
I was stalked. I was followed around on campus. My car was keyed. My tires were slashed. It seemed like every time my life was starting to come together another wave came to knock me around.
I was admitted into a psychiatric hospital because of a counselor who often jumped to conclusions before she heard the entire story. That would have been enough to break anybody. But not me. It was just another hiccup in what is proving to be a very very long road to recovery.
Through all of those horrible events I remained set in my ways. Did I constantly question my values and ideas? Absolutely. But just because I questioned them does not mean I changed.
Instead, despite all of the trials, I stood strong in my own storm.
I am an anchor.
The anchor on my wrist may just be a tattoo.
To me, though, it is a constant reminder of who I am, where I came from, what I've been through.
Most importantly, though, it is a reminder that I am strong. And I am a survivor.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)