Happy Freakin' Birthday

Well today is my birthday. 23 years old.

This post is going to sound incredibly depressing but I really see no reason to celebrate another year that I'm alive. Frankly I'm disappointed. But the show must go on...

During tough times it would be lovely if time could just stand still. The phrase 'time waits for no one' is all too true! It would be so helpful if time could just wait for me to recover from this trauma and stop propelling me forwards through my life. The gap year from Uni I took due to this trauma ends in March and I'm dreading going back. I'm supposed to be working on my assignments now but how can I in this state?

If I had one wish for my birthday it would be for time to stand still until I have dealt with what's happened to me and much further along the healing process..... now that's wishful thinking!

Goodbye November

I'm sorry I haven't posted this month. Things have been difficult following the anniversary and ive gotten a new puppy which is taking up a lot of my time. My mum allowed me to get her during my darkest days to have something to love and look after. Something to aid my healing. But its only recently i found the perfect pooch! Her name is Willow meaning 'freedom' I hope to be free from these chains one day. Therapy is getting so hard, she's really challenging me and pushing me every session. It takes so much out of me I guess I have no energy left to bare my soul on here. On a positive note I do have a website under construction. I have plans to turn TWOR a.k.a 'the war on rape' into a non-profit business raising awareness on sexual violence and providing support to survivors. It's quite exciting!!

Neglecting my blog is not something I take lightly and I know I need to reach out here more. I promise to try harder, it's just hard to open that locked box of secrets and despair.

After The Storm

Well my anniversary didn't exactly go to plan, decided i couldn't cope with it and smartly *sarcasm* chose to overdose on sleeping tablets. I spent over 30 hours knocked out in my bed, so technically i didn't have a one year anniversary, it didn't exist and i didn't have to deal with it .... seems to be the story of my life lately! Ignorance is bliss and all that jazz!


The days after have been hard, this week i had a very tough therapy session where she forced me to look forwards and write down 'where i am heading,' something i find very difficult as i don't envision much of a future for me. Being positive and hopeful is something i seem to really avoid. I lack the energy and drive to put effort into trying to heal and therefore it seems like I'm forever standing in the same spot, moving neither forwards nor backwards. Where do you find the drive to heal when you have little worth for your life? What is it exactly I'm supposed to be fighting for? What is it about life that is god damn great??....


... today i saw in my local news a story about a young man in my town jailed for five years for sexually assaulting five girls under the age of sixteen, i read on in the story only to read it's someone I KNOW! Someone i used to hang around with when i was younger, a 'really nice' guy who was very clever with lots of ambition. Apparently he's now a music teacher and it was his students he abused. I feel so physically sick, i keep looking at his mug shot photo, i can't help it! There are a lot of things on my facebook about it at the moment, angry facebook status' which led me to being really upset. Im so pleased that these girls have gotten justice, I'm happy everyone has seen him for the sicko he really is, I'm happy people are calling him out on it on facebook but with that happiness also comes a great deal of personal sadness. Perhaps even a selfish kind of sadness .... that i never got this recognition! 'His' name was never published in the papers, 'his' crime was never shared for the world to see, i never had people sticking up for me and i never had the justice i so wanted and deserved... perhaps this is a selfish thought but i can't help but be overwhelmed with jealousy for those very few people who do get justice, validation and perhaps a sense of closure.


I see a great amount of evil in this world, and my eyes have been opened up to more horrors that you don't hear about in the news, the more 'silent' world of sexual and domestic abuse...


Why would i want to live in a world this cruel?

Heart Full of Pain

My Day, Thoughts and Feeling summed up in one Photo, leading upto Anniversary... Day 7


With my anniversary tomorrow i have little words. By chance i found this striking photo with a paragraph underneath that manages to describe me exactly. I have included the paragraph below along with the reference to where the writing came from.

the only word to describe this feeling is numb. she cant feel anymore, she cant even allow herself to feel anymore. every time it just ends in disappointment. there is never a happy ending, never ends with a smile. behind those piercing blue eyes is nothing but pain and lost. its obvious when shes crying but she holds those tears back. and so if you look closely behind the smile, youll see the hurt. there is no happiness in this thing called life, at least not for her. no fairy tale ending. just ever present and constant reminders of a life she never dreamed of. a life which she doesnt want to live. a life she doesnt know what to do with. surrounded by things she cant escape and doesnt know how to deal with. past lives coming back to haunt and be relived. nobodys been there for her and no one ever will be. its a self defeating attitude and she knows it but she cant seem to shake it. shes learning the hard way you can only look out for number one. that you are the only one looking out for you. but she doesnt even know how to do that. she doesnt know how to come to her own defenses. how to come to her own rescue. shes stopped believing in friendship. shes stopped believing in love. shes stopped believing in survivng. shes only exsisting. walking around like a puppet. going through the motions she needs to so people dont ask too many questions. she wants to reach out so bad, wants someone close to her. to hear her and be there for her. but when she turns around to find a friend, her own shadow is all she sees. its not the life she dreamed of but its the life shes living. shes been doing it so long that shes a pro now. and so although you may see a smile on that face of hers, know that her heart is full of pain.

Writing taken from and credit given too: http://koolkate.tumblr.com/post/908767571/a-heart-full-of-pain

Silenced

My Day, Thoughts and Feeling summed up in one Photo, leading upto Anniversary... Day 6

This picture is so hauntingly beautiful and tells a thousand words. I don't think i need to give an explanation is to why i relate to this photo so much, speaks for itself. I've been feeling like this girl more and more especially leading up to my anniversary, which is why i have chosen her for Day 6.

Insignificant Dot

My Day, Thoughts and Feeling summed up in one Photo, leading upto Anniversary... Day 5


This picture is yesterdays picture. Unfortunately i was unable to post yesterday which i apologise for. The pale blue dot in the photo is Earth from 4 billion miles away, look how insignificant it is on the grand scale of things... what's even more shocking, is imagining how small i am in this photo. If the Earth is an insignificant dot, than what the hell am i and my problems? In the grand scheme of things ....


.... do i really matter?

The Lonely

My Day, Thoughts and Feeling summed up in one Photo, leading upto Anniversary... Day 4


Today i have included two photos, these pictures i drew myself in Art Therapy on Monday and yesterday in normal therapy spent a great deal of time talking about. Challenging my opinions on myself and the situations and why I'm struggling to move forwards. It was a tough session. I wanted to share the two photos i drew with you as my emotions for today....

Burden

My Day, Thoughts and Feeling summed up in one Photo, leading upto Anniversary... Day 3

Is there something on my back??

My Day, Thoughts and Feeling summed up in one Photo, leading upto Anniversary... Day 2
The woman in this photo looks so defeated, sad and lonely. I also get the sense she has given up as she isn't even bothering to struggle with the weight anymore. Her head is turned away from the world, away from the weight on her shoulders.... I relate to this woman.

Tumbling Down the Rabbit Hole

My Day, Thoughts and Feeling summed up in one Photo, leading upto Anniversary... Day 1

Without Words

As you'll be aware (as its all I harp on about lately on here!) Is that one week tomorrow...will be my One year anniversary. I've been fighting to much just to get through the days...keep the smile plastered across my face for all to see that its just so exhausting I haven't had much time to write. 


What i've been really struggling with - which no doubt sounds so damn ridiculous - is that here in the UK at the moment we have to reality shows on at the minute, Xfactor and Strictly come Dancing. On BOTH shows there is someone who shares the first name of my abuser. Naturally everyone in my house watches these shows and every weekend I have to 'his' name echoing up the stairs. It send chills through my bones, and on occasion has sparked a flashback. I hate this, it effects me so much, i go into a supermarket and the cashier has his name,
I go to a restaurant and the guy says 'Hi my name is C... and ill be your waiter this evening'. I can't escape him, I can't escape it, I can't escape from my own mind.


Another thing I have been struggling with is the fact my family who I live with, have gone away for a week. They will be back 2 days before my anni, but im all alone in the house leading up to that time. I've got my therapists number on speed dial in case of any emergencies, but it scares me just knowing that sometimes I feel capable of being in an 'emergency'. Im trying my hardest, although admittedly sometimes I wonder what it is im fighting for.


For next week, as of monday because i know ill be without words, instead i am going to post a single photo that represents how i am feeling that day, leading up to my anni on the 23rd.....


Stay tuned, and thanks for all of you who read this blog and offer your support.

The Twenty-three Hundred Hour Storm

She leaves her friend after a pleasant evening of hot chocolate, marshmallows and a good romantic comedy.


Saying farewell at the door she glimpses the raging storm outside - heavy rainfall, thunder and high speed winds - oddly peaceful and comforting. She smiles to herself as she makes a run for it, becoming impossibly soaked in just a few short seconds. Collapsing into the drivers seat she has a quick glance in the rear view mirror, as usual a stranger stares back at her. The unknown girls brown hair is windswept and and clumped from the large droplets of rain and her dull blue eyes are smeared with black mascara at the edges. She recalls a time when these eyes sparkled, like diamonds in the rough... but she knew this girl had long disappeared, unsure of when or if she'd see her again. Attention from the mirror is quickly withdrawn and she flicks to her favourite track on the CD currently in the player; starting the ignition and turning on the lights, she drives.


Driving home in adequate spirits she braves the weather and rolls down the window slightly to have a cigarette. Softly singing to the song echoing through the vehicle she drives through the torrential rain fall, windscreen wipers at full speed. As she turns a corner a carefully aimed swoop of wind drives water directly through the window splashing on her face. She laughs to herself as her face drips with rainwater. Continuing the drive and nearing home another smaller burst of rain manages to rocket through the small gap in the window and splashes on her face. Suddenly she is without breath. Her heart rate increases and the dull blue eyes widen in horror as a memory comes to the surface. A memory where a diamond blue eyed girl meets up with a new male friend in her car and they go for a drive in the rain.


Unable to see through the rainfall they park down a side street, enjoying the loud noise of the rain bouncing off the car roof. So much laughter, so much good conversation. At the time her old banger vehicle had a leak and water started to seep through the light in the roof, dripping onto her face. The man finds this hilarious. They both laugh as the water continues to drip from the roof of the car, splashing them as the droplets fell. He wipes the water off her face and smiles at her. She feels so safe around him.


As soon as the memory had come it quickly dissolved, leaving the girl barely breathing. Her smile has faded, her dull blue eyes now grey and her hands tightly grip the steering wheel.  To an outsider this would be perceived as a happy memory, but not to the dull eyed girl. Driving home in a trance-like-state, flash-cards of more images, memories, are burned into her eyes. Like quickly flicking through a photo album, still frames of a certain memory darted across her field of vision. These images were far from happy. Time had fast forward and the location had changed but they involved the same two people, the male friend and the girl with diamond blue eyes.  The images held many secrets, secrets that were buried, secrets to painful and unimaginable for the girl to envision. She tried to fight the images off, knowing ultimately what the ending would be, but this time she couldn't fight it. The final image showed the sparkle drain out of the girls eyes....


Pulling up on the street to her house she turned off the ignition and sat their frozen. Rain pellets belted the front window and danced down the glass, mirroring the tears now waltzing down her face. She was angry at herself for allowing the nearly one year old images to play through her mind. The truth was unacceptable and incomprehensible, it needed to stay locked in its Pandoras Box... despite this belief she heard a quiet voice, shouting from a dark deep place inside her soul,
'Say it, admit the truth, just say it, say it out loud'.
She tried to  obey the tiny voice and whispered,
'I was..., I was....', but the final word escaped her.


Distressed and vulnerable, she did what she does best and locked up Pandoras Box. The 23:00 hour storm that brought this brief moment of clarity calmed down and she walked up the back to the safety of her home.


The tiny voice inside her soul shook its head and exclaimed 'I will try again tomorrow....'
The memories sunk back to depths at which they came from...

Monster

Monster

You didn't hide behind the closet

Never concealed yourself in the shadows

Hiding your truth in plain sight

Utilising your mask well, obscuring the monstrosity of your very nature

Left no one questioning, Clever little monster

Your evil soul lurked in the depths

Your kind smile deceiving well

The verbal vomit of your lies

Covering the darkness of your truth

Naive girl, how was I to tell?

Upon completion of your web

You knew you had me trapped

Those poisoned lips infected me

Planting memories inside my head

Lying wounded, slowly dying on your bed

You fed the monster that lives within you

It was I who was your prey

An unlikely weapon destroyed me

Forever fearful of mans capabilities

Life affected until the end

Hunger satisfied you buried the monster

How long down there would It stay?

Your angelic face returned

To pledge it's eternal woe

Claiming not to be the monster I had now come to know

Your venom coursed through my veins 

Destroying all sanity and intelligence

For a time the misty haze swarming my brain denied me of the truth

Clarity intact, your venom now grants me the gift of seeing the hidden monster

The monster who ate me alive but refused to swallow.

Keeping me alive, was your greatest evil.

Written today on my eleven month anniversary. Copyrighted

Writers Block

Posting on my blog has been difficult for me of late. The same can be said for a survivor support forum i regularly use. I remember a time when i would reach out all the time! Post whatever is running through my mind in hope for some support from a kind stranger. Its getting harder and harder to reach out. The only person i am truly honest with is my therapist...in fact even that is a lie, i'd say I'm 80% honest with her. I lie to everyone now.
'How are you doing?' 
'Yeah I'm okay thanks, how are you?' - Why is it so damn hard to just tell the truth! 


I get so frustrated with the people who are aware of what's going on with me, they often just accept that answer and ask no more questions. I feel like they should know I'm not okay, they should know when i don't want to talk, and when in fact i'd like to but perhaps scared to bring it up incase of bringing a downer to the conversation. I know i can't expect people to be psychic but i'd like to think at least the people in my life who know me well, know enough to know when i am not okay!


I guess what's got me thinking about this, is my anniversary. 11 month anniversary. Tomorrow.


I am dreading the stroke of midnight on my clock-face.


Each time i don't know how I'm going to get through the day. Things would be so much easier, so much more peaceful if when i went to sleep...i never awoke the next morning. The hardest thing about tomorrow is knowing its my last 'month' anniversary. The next one is one year. One Year. I know for sure i can't survive this one. The week before my family are going away to Spain, they will be back for the 23rd but (and i'd never admit this to them) I'm scared of them leaving in the approaching week. Because I'm scared of what i may be capable of doing. My mum has been begging me to try to find some money to go with them, i know this is because she is afraid to leave me alone.


If anyone has any advice on how to get through the month of October and the 23rd, please let me know. I'm drowning here.


.....Wake me up when October ends.....

Time Flies...

They say time flies when your having fun, and the bad days seem to never end. I have found this well known quote to be completely way off reality. Next month will mark one year since my assault and everyday has been a living hell and yet it has flown by scarily fast. It seems like the incident happened only a few months ago. On a really bad day, the minutes seem to tick by slowly but then at the end of the day i realise its actually gone really fast. I feel like i have lost an entire year of my life. Not only have I lost myself, but i am also loosing time.

That bastard has taken away my time. Its overwhelmingly scary when you start to do a tick list of all the things that have been stolen from you, it seems impossible to take them all back. If i am honest i don't think they can be taken back.


In therapy i often discuss with my Therapist about my future, or lack of one. Last week she asked me to draw how i see myself now, and how i see myself in the future. For the how i see myself now i drew a question mark, a large black scribble of mess and a stickman dead at the bottom of the ocean, ball and chain around it's leg. Naturally my therapists interpretation was dead on (no pun intended). I know there something holding me back, something that is stopping me from moving forwards in my healing, what it is...i do not know. My therapist said once we are able to undo the chain which is holding me to the sea bed, i will slowly start to find myself again and begin to heal. She said my soul is not dead, but that it is off somewhere and slowly i will start to find it again and take back what has been taken. This is one the few times i completely disagreed with her.


I have started to realise (and i am not saying this is true for everyone) that when a trauma so huge happens to someone it is literally like it has killed them. I have had many survivors explain their trauma like 'a murder where there was no literal death'. When someone has died, there can be no resuscitation. I believe this is true with me. My soul has not simply 'gone away for a while'. It is dead, lying in the vegetation at the bottom of ocean. He killed me. I think - for me - it's not about getting back that girl i was before the rape (i'm not sure i'd even want to be that weak vulnerable naive girl anyway) it's about creating a new one. A new me. Trouble is sometimes it makes me so angry that the girl i have been for 22 years is suddenly gone along with all her hopes and dreams. Now all i have to work with is this empty shell. My therapist found this analogy interesting and could understand where i was coming from. She said 'isn't a blank canvas exciting, think of all you could create for your "new" self and the woman you could become'. Personally i think it seems like a lot of fucking hard work (excuse the curse!). 


It begs the questions:

• how do you live when you are already dead?
• how do you start over and create a new self?
• how do you know you will like the person you end up becoming?

It also makes me wonder, if rapists truly take a persons life (which i believe they do) then why on earth when it comes to our justice system do they not get given life sentences! IF they are even convicted, which there is a despicable 6.5% chance of, the average sentence is four years, meaning they are out in two years. TWO years for taking anothers life. People get more for driving offenses. The world is a f'd up place!

What's wrong with me?

I think something is seriously wrong with me.

Today i worked at a place ive never worked before, at a low secure units for criminals who have mental health issues.
I started the shift nervous - as it was all male criminals - but ending up being fine, they were all really nice and friendly, lovely to me, made me drinks. Then i asked the nurse about the unit and she told me about it, said if im interested to read their files....

Well first the guy i'd just been chatting for ages was a baby killer, murdered his baby boy  (in his bad mental health state thought he was the devil and killed him)
And then i find out there is a rapist and a man who indecently has exposed himself to his children in the past.

I now have to work with these people. Weird thing is, on another ward about a month ago, i encounted a child molester, it made me so ill, and i refused to nurse him and stayed far far away from this creep, made so uncomfortable. This time.....it didnt phase me! WHY!!!

Is it because i am so disconnected from everything? from my R*? from other people's R*?
Both these incidents were many many years ago and they had both served time for it, they were now serving time for things like stealing etc and were in the unit due to the mental issues they had. But thats besides the point, these people have seriously affected someone elses life, regardless of how long ago it was, regardless of the fact they had served there time. For some reason the fact they were sexual offenders didnt seem to connect in my head....i even played pool with one of them!!! I was thinking i should beating the shit out of this guy with the pool que and yet the feelings of hatred and disgust just didn't connect. WHY! I feel like a freak, i feel like ive betrayed myself and all other survivors out there. Its so hard because its my job and i cant just ignore these people and treat them like shit, but what is bothering me is the fact that it all just didn't phase me. Didn't affect me.

What also is making me feel so disgusting is the fact there was a staff member there that looked quite a bit like my rapist. At first i had a mini attack but then calmed myself down assuring myself it wasn't him. But then he kept coming over and talking to me. He was nice. Whats worse is...i kind of fancied him. WHAT?! i fancied a guy who looks a bit like my rapist! I mean my rapist was tall, dark and quite good looking (what i normally go for) and there are a lot of people who obviously will look like him, and its freaking me out the fact that i am going to be attracted to these people? This is so messed up and confusing me and making me feel so disgusting. But then i can hardly go and change my type in men? Im so sorry to be ranting, im probably not even making any sense, ive just walked through the door in such a daze, i cant explain my behaviour today and its making me hate myself even more. I feel so dirty and disgusting.

Please can someone help me make sense of all this, i feel like such a disgusting freak.
It's almost like i was fine at work, but now im at home the truth is starting to sink in and i feel myself becoming triggered by todays events, i think its going to be a bad night

Please if you dont hate me for how ive behaved today...please sit with me

Running. Masks. Despair

Recently had another wave of depression swoop over me, leaving my blog a little neglected the past week.


Went away over the weekend to Wales, to a little town i have visited every year since i was a baby. In fact its the 3rd time i've been this year and im going back again in a couple of weeks. Its really my second home, i often dream of running away from my city with all its reminders and abuser ever present lurking somewhere in these city streets. Running far far away to my little quiet village in wales where no body knows my history, knows what im running from. Where there is no fear of running into 'him'. I wish it was a possibility.


I thought that getting away might lift this depression slightly, but it hasn't. I have come back feeling as a low as over. I can't seem to shake that as of tomorrow it will be September the 1st - the month i met my abuser. After that will be October - the month 'it' happened, one year ago. Im not sure how i am going to get through this.


I have no therapy this week as my therapist is in court all week. Its scary how much i rely on these weekly meetings, that one hour (sometimes two) every week where i can take off my mask, and be the girl who is suffering to survive after her rape. The rest of the time i am the girl who is 'ok' after surviving a bad trauma. I get so tired of wearing this mask. Its an exhausting week knowing i don't have that one hour outlet to verbally puke out all the thoughts swimming in my head and have them listened to and receiving a supportive response.


Like i said, its scary how much i depend on my therapist. On that hour.
Till next week i guess im stuck to deal with this despair on my own.
Oh well....rant over....


.....time to put back on that smiling mask!

BOOM!

Yesterday was my 10 month anniversary.


I was so dissociated and disconnected that a few days back somehow i managed to book an afternoon shift at work on that date.I woke up in the morning feeling so down and like i just wanted to sleep and never wake up. So i laid between the sheets and went back to sleep. At 12pm my alarm went off for work. Feeling this crappy i didnt want to go to work. But i got up, I turned off my alarm and saw the date....then it all clicked. No, more like exploded. BOOM. memory, memory, flashback, memory. Being so disconnected meant i now had to go to work on my anniversary. I didn't know how i would get through, especially when it turned 6pm...roughly when the assault happened. But i had to go, so i went.


My tactic was to continue using a tool i am very good at. Dissociate from the date and what it meant to me. I spent the shift trying to push down all the stuff that was trying to seep out of my subconscious. I made it to 6pm which is when luckily they sent me on my break. I just sat in the staff room staring into space like a brain dead zombie. Thinking about what was happening at this time 10 months ago. I felt so empty and lifeless, i felt no pain, no emotion, nothing. Is that normal? Shouldn't i have been distraught and crying, feeling sick, shaking? Thats how they normally go! On the one hand i am so fed up of being disconnected from it all but then on the other hand i know I AM the one that keeps myself disconnected, because sometimes when the connections start to form i can feel myself disconnecting them again. Why am i doing this??


I made it to the end of my shift and came home at 9.30pm. Got in between the shifts, and talked to a fellow survivor online. Shed some tears with her.


What scares me the most about anniversaries is that it is month closer to the one year mark. Something i am TERRIFIED of. My next anniversary will be 11 months....the next,....1 year! I don't understand how it has almost been a year, that seems impossible, it feels like only three months ago. Where has this time gone??


I am curious as to when its  been one year, do begin counting your anniversary as years now rather than months? Cause i have a feeling im going to still be counting the months (13 months, 18, months, 24 months). Is that strange and obsessive? At what point does it become yearly? Because monthly ones are damn exhausting!

Is this what crazy feels like?

Im not going to deny i can be pretty hyper-vigilant at times, given everything i have gone through i guess its understandable but tonight reached whole new levels of craziness! Maybe it's because of what happened at work yesterday i don't know, but tonight i became sure there was someone in the house.


I was sat in my room, talking to friends on the laptop, when i begin hearing noises downstairs. I brush it off as the wind, but it continues. Before long i hear a mans quiet voice. I freeze. I'm alone in the house.....what is that noise?


I assure myself that both doors are locked, that no one is downstairs and to stop being silly. But I am now listening intently, barely breathing, my heart beats faster as I deffinately now can hear male grunting and movements sounding like walking.


Thinking logically I think if someone was in the house they'd be stealing and making a lot more noise than that also they would know I was in and wouldn't they come upstairs! Both doors are locked, no no, no one could be in the house. It would be silly to call the police and waste their time....


But I continue hearing these noises, wind can't be in my living. I'm frozen stiff. I text my mum who is at work, she said she is finishing soon and will be home in half an hour. I try to calm down but I couldn't, kept continuously hearing a male voice and movement. My friends online kept tael ing me to call the police. I just didn't want to look stupid when they got here and no one was here! Then a big truck races down my street and parks near my drive with two men in the front. I've never seen this truck in my life. I'm now thinking is that what the burglar downstairs was waiting for. The noises downstairs get louder. I finally think fuck this, and call the police. Whispering down the phone I think there might be a man in my house. In less than 10 minutes a huge police van with 3 offices pulls up outside. The noises stopped.


I speak to them out my window, afraid to go downstairs. They say they can see no signs of entry and ask me to come open the door. Holding my breath I go downstairs.


Twat. Of course there is no one there!!


I open the door to the offices who come in and look round the whole house for me. Nothing. Oh my god I felt so stupid!! I told them I'd be listening to this noise for about Half an hour before I called them. Told them about the van.


Well they left, probably disappointed they didn't get to ambush some criminals. I apologised saying I wouldn't have called if I wasn't frightened and sure I could hear it. They said it was ok, they'd rather check and be sure there wasn't and that I was safe.


So they left. Leaving me with my embarrassment, craziness and thinking what on earth was that voice!! I hate the way being a survivor affects you :-(


Hearing a mans voice, movements, and getting out the police, I'm officially insane.

Struggling with little self worth

Since everything happened, i have very little self worth and don't think very highly of myself. I often can't look myself in the eyes in my reflection in mirrors. I don't like myself very much. 

I am weak

I've struggled bad with something today. At work a 50 year old doctor came onto me...im only 22. Hes older than my dad. Yesterday i thought i saw him taking photos of me at work...today i find out he did. He asked me to meet him after work as he wanted to talk to me about something, said he would meet me by my car. He then suspiciously came out with 'dont worry im not a rapist or a stalker or something'.... who says that?!?! I spent the whole day worried about the end of my shift. At the end as i walked to my car he wasn't in sight, i was so relieved, i got in the car and went to drive off as he popped up next to my car. I got out saying 'oh sorry i forgot you wanted a chat'. He tells me he is very intrigued by me and just wanted to get to know me, but thought i might get into trouble talking at work. He said he doesnt mean me any harm, he just wants to be my friend. He said he likes the way i look.....and liked my tattoo's which made me more attractive. By this point my heart was in my throat. Boom Boom Boom. Said he would like to meet me one time. Gave me his phone number which he had already pre-written. It felt like i was standing there for hours. He told me not to worry that he had deleted them photos, but can he please have another one...i asked him why, he said because i like looking you  he then said bye....and

stroked my chin  

I came home and burned the number, went in the shower and scrubbed my chin until it was practically bleeding (i now look pretty stupid!) I feel so sick, so dirty. Im terrified of working back on that ward. I don't know what to do. I feel to scared to report to his superior as he is a respected psychiatrist. Im too scared to report it to my superiors because they know about my r* and if i then tell them this...will they just think i am a liar.

I think any other person probably could have brushed this off, thinking 'eww pervert'. But because of what ive been through, i dunno its triggered me so bad.

But most of all.....i hate myself!!!!!!! Since my r* i've said to myself should anything ever happen similar or where i feel threatened i am going to stand up for myself and fight. Im going to be brave. Today i literally just stood there, scared little girl, telling him 'sure thats ok! and yeah sure we can meet!' WHAT THE FUCK! i'm such a coward, i feel like someone should just shoot me i'm so pathetic.

Im also now wondering, do i attract people that are sick and twisted in the head???? Do i have victim written on my forehead? Am i set up for a lifetime of abuse, or inappropriate sexual behavior towards me?

Maybe i should just allow people to abuse me, if thats all i am worth

I don't know what to do  

Little Red

Little Red

There once was a girl full of hopes and dreams

Saw the world through pure eyes, complete at the seams.

Heart of gold,

Smile of an angel,

that anyone who tried to take was not able.

With sparkling blue eyes, believing good conquers evil,

Fairytales were reality, no one was deceitful.

Untill this girl turned twenty one, the promise of fairytales was soon gone.

The castle crumbled

the prince did not show

She tumbled into the dark rabbit hole below.

Little red, little red

Don't blame yourself

for all thats dead

his smiling lie

that wolf was cunning

from his evil your now running

Bleeding, wounded

Oh little red

Its not your fault

Its not your fault

Left with the destruction, red cape on the floor

Her heart understands, red is here no more.

The wolf walked free with all he took,

Shes nothing left to give

She curls into the darkness

She has no strength left to live

The castle's burning bright, this hole is six foot deep

At the bottom lies her secret, she feels she has to keep.

Settling for this world of grey,

shes afraid to to start the climb

Just wait, little red there is strength in your tears

Just breathe, one day,

You'll be okay.

Little red, little red

Don't blame yourself

for all thats dead

his smiling lie

that wolf was cunning

from his evil your now running

Bleeding, wounded

Oh little red

Its not your fault

Its not your fault 

Lights, Camera....FACE!

I haven't spoken much about the events that brought me to blogger, or what happened on that fateful day. I have a hard time accepting the truth, it's kind of hard to write about when you feel like what your writing never happened. But tonight i find myself awake thinking of one moment. A moment that on the 23rd of October, maybe lasted less than 20 seconds. The moment i tried to escape from my attacker.


It's got me thinking about that moment in many horror movies where the girl, the victim, makes a break for it. Usually its a hot skinny blonde with ginourmous boobs, running in some scary woods wearing nothing but an oversized male shirt. The stereotypical murderer with some freaky-ass mask and terrifying weapon is lurking near by. Before she tries to escape she's normally hiding somewhere, trying to assess the situation, assess the amount of danger she is in. By this point she is afraid but not completely sure about what the hell is going on and just how much danger she is in. Amid the confusion something inside of her tells her there's a good chance she's going to get really hurt. Flight or fight mode kicks in, and typically, shes tries to escape....


....In that moment, she is grabbed from behind and pulled back. Always in movies the camera focus' on the girls face, never the attacker, always the victim. Because her face tells a thousands words, you can see the look in her eyes that she knows she is about to get hurt. That face can be pretty terrifying, more terrifying than the axe murderer in fact. Some actresses are pretty good at pulling this horrific 'face' off. I wonder if in real life anyone has ever caught on camera the real look of a person who is about to be pulled back. The look of the girl who knows what comes next. 


In my story there is no ugly mask murderer, there are no woods, there is no fake boobed blonde bombshell. But there is the attempt of escape. Injuring myself as i tried to slip from his clutches. There is the moment i felt his hands grab my waist and pull me back and im pretty certain....there is that face.


No one knows what my face looked like, i couldn't see it, 'he' couldn't see it, there were no audience who could see it. I can't help but think about what it might have looked like.


My mum has often said to me that no one will ever truly understand the horrors of what happened to me on that day, in that room because no one else was there. If it were in a movie, would they be horrified? Would they be afraid for me? Would they cover there eyes with their hands whilst still peering through the gaps in their fingers so they don't miss what's happening? Would they understand better the trauma that consumes me each and every day? Perhaps they wouldn't find it that scary, i often minimise and invalidate my experience to myself maybe there is a reason why i do that, maybe it wasn't all that bad? There was no axe murderer, there was no weapons used, there was no blood curdling scream.


Is it strange that i sometimes feel the desire for people to see it, to see their reaction? 


I guess this is me looking for validation again! A stage i can't seem to pass. I don't know how to begin accepting what has happened to me and validating to myself, that my experience WAS bad, that it WAS horrific and that i have every right to feel hurt and traumatised...


and most importantly, have the right to heal.


I don't think i will ever watch horror movies in the same way as i used to. I don't think i can ever forget the look upon their faces. THAT is where the horror in horror movies come from. Next time you watch a  horror, don't fear the bad guy.....fear that face.