thank you everyone. I think with all of the other things happening right now in my life, no job, going to Milwaukee and then leaving, dealing with carl and toxic man who has since not been toxic at all i havent yet really dealt with it. I cried that night and that has been it so far as tears but i am terrified of male attention now except by carl and toxic man. When i was still in charlotte every time i saw a man with dreads(which the guy had) or a car that was similiar in color or jacked up like that car my heart would race and fear would just consume me. the when i was in milwaukee for that week or so every guy that would approach me made my body react in the same way just shear fear. I have started having nightmares since i've been at my parents like slowly because i feel safe here my brain is starting to try and process what has happened. I havent yet called victim assistance though i know i should and the detective has urged me to do so i guess i am scared it will make it more real to me. thank you mamas i love you all j

Jessica
Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind~~Dr.Seuss

Sexual assault survivor thread

Sunflower the unflower

Mom's Tinfoil Hat
Foodie loves Picky

i remember three times being molested, forced, assaulted. i was thirteen and they were 3 different MUCH older men. i also remember being grabbed by the hair and thrown on a bed face down at age 8 or 9...i was crying, but i can't remember anything else about that time. it's hard to write this.

most women i know have been assaulted sexually in some way. it does wound you, but, yes it fades. the pain fades. for me it materialized in lot's of ways. i felt all i was good for was sex and set out to prove it until i realized what i was doing. i've been through years of therapy and still struggle with depression (genetic, but situations make it worse). talking with other victims helps a lot.

jess, love, strength and healing to you

http://verityrae.blogspot.com/

I was sexually abused as a child for years by my father's boyfriend. It was a murky, awful, dangerous time in my disfunctional family's life and I survived it. Who I am today certainly was influenced by what happened to me but does not define me and, like dynamom said, it's NOT something I now think about everyday or even every week.
I can't lie... I've had some tough years and battled depression in the past but I'm still here and proud of all of my accomplishments---my beautiful, quarrelsome children; my kind, patient partner; my home; my circle of family and support.
I'm sending you courage, hope and love.
Meg.

But it is my number one fear in life other than losing my children or husband. When I was at the hospital last wednesday I was all by my self and asked for a security guard escort out of the ER and was made fun of by the nurse there. Told me I was afraid of things that go bump in the night. And also told the security guard that I was afraid of things that go bump in the night. Well hell yeah I am. I want to be safe as possible and the ER parking lot is not a safe spot! I later made a formal complaint about her to the hospital because I felt so belittled. But what a vulnerable position that would be, holding a baby in the dark by your car. Anything could happen. I have had sexual assault stuff happen in the past that I have pushed way down deep. So far that I just can't bring them up right now. Maybe sometime. This post by jess scared and worried the shit out of me. I want to help so so badly..

It's hard for me to talk about it, so I won't. But I just want Jess and everyone else here to know that I'm right in there with you. I don't even want to say the word, or type it, or read it... But it does make me feel a bit better to admit it, and I hope Jess feels better knowing that she's not the only one that this happens to. Get better, mama. It's a hard kind of trauma, but one day at a time and you'll heal.
http://startswithvee.wordpress.com
"Feminists are just women who don't want to be treated like shit." -Su.

i will come back to add my thoughts and memories when i have time.

“You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.”

Friedrich Nietzsche

My close acquaintances in the feminist community do identify me as a multiple rape survivor, but in my case, both were date rapes with only situational force instead of physical. One was perpetrated by another woman. Because of the circumstances, I definitely feel like a fraud when I self-identify as a rape victim or survivor. I don't see it the same AT ALL as being assaulted by a stranger with a weapon or sheer violence. But technically it qualifies because I had never given consent. In both cases, I had repeatedly said no, and it was ignored.

So having said that, qualifying my statement with the explanation that I'm not REALLY a rape survivor, but I guess kinda am... in my case, there has been some intense rebuilding of trust with others, fear of vulnerability and intimacy, self-loathing, denial, etc. My issue has more to do with finding my voice and making sure it is respected and heard. I'm getting over it, but it will never be gone. I will never have the life of someone who hasn't had a traumatic experience such as that, because I have. But I can talk about it in a peaceful way, now. That wasn't the case a few years ago. I remember watching a documentary about rape with a great sister friend shortly after the second. I knew it would be an emotional experience for me, and it was a healing one, but it was really hard. It reminded me of the importance of being somewhat visible about one's experiences, not as a centerpoint of one's identity, but there nonetheless.

24/MN. Queer, veg, single, AP mama to DD1.5

As in on my way to the hospital: I think I was in shock. I waited until I saw my mom until I cried.
And then I cried a lot.

For a long time I felt like I was ready to die. I didn't want to commit suicide, I knew I still had a lot I wanted to do in life. But I felt like if I died it wouldn't matter.

A lot of people told me it would be the first thing I'd think about in the morning and last thing I think about at night for the rest of my life--and I'll tell you, Jess, they were dead wrong. I don't think about it now sometimes for weeks or even months at a time.

At first I took Xanax to sleep. At first I could never be alone.
That, too, subsided.

Sometimes I was really fucking angry that I didn't do anything to fight back.
Sometimes I was just glad I was alive.
Sometimes I was mad he didn't kill me.
Sometimes I was glad my family didn't have to find out I'd been killed.

I'll be back with more.

How many rape survivors do you know? I remember hearing that one in four women are raped. I happen to know lots of women; none of whom had been raped, so I found that statistic hard to believe. Imagine how surprised I was to become that one out of four. Equally surprising was the number of women who then confided in me that they, too, had been raped. So, how many rape survivors do you know? Where I once would have answered, “zero,” now I say, “at least five.”
After you’re raped, people give you teddy bears. I got three. Putting that in writing makes it seem very strange—be physically violated, get a stuffed animal! Joking aside, I truly appreciated the sentiment. I was especially touched by the gifts from people I didn’t even know, like a dream catcher from my Grandma’s neighbor. One of my sisters said, “My friends all want to do something for you, but what do you ‘do’ for a rape victim?” Well, I can tell you what not to do: Don’t ignore it. I remember sitting in front of a pile of Christmas cards and wanting to write, “You jerk, you didn’t even ask me how I was after you knew that I was raped!” It doesn’t take much. “How are you doing?” would be fine. (If that’s too hard, please write the person a letter!)
My sister recently told me that I am the luckiest person she knows. “Real lucky,” I thought, “does she forget I was raped?” The next day, a friend I’ve known for years told me that she had been raped in college. (Change my answer to “at least six”) Hers was a date rape, her attacker now climbing the corporate ladder. She didn’t tell her family and struggled with it for years. I reflected on my own situation. My attacker had a knife—and I wasn’t killed—my attacker was a stranger—and he was caught and jailed—I have a great support system and the husband, children and home that I’ve always dreamed of…maybe my sister is right.