Friday, 23 September 2011



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

Thursday, 22 September 2011

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 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.....

Thursday, 15 September 2011

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!

Saturday, 3 September 2011

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 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