Change

I started this blog with the intention of having somewhere to verbally vomit all the crap in my head. Somewhere to throw it out and maybe, just maybe, it would get lost on it's journey back into my memory. Well ... in a way - it has.

I love getting up in the morning and spending a few minutes with myself and my thoughts and just being honest...and it's even nice to not have to hear any words of wisdom from anyone else. Just get it out there and poof - it's gone from my immediate memory!

I no longer feel the need to keep hashing through all of the garbage of my past. It's there and always will be - but I've dealt with it. I no longer feel handcuffed and suffocated by its presence. For that, I am thankful.

Mirrors Lie

Lately I feel so detached - like I am walking through the motions of my life but missing the feelings and emotions that go with it. Like I am watching myself in a mirror - feeling nothing - like maybe I am the reflection on the other side. I don't know if it is stress or just disappointment ... disappointment in people who should never disappoint you - family, friends, even my "reflection".

One lesson I have learned over and over again in life is that people disappoint you. It doesn't matter how or when, but they do. The importance of being perfect in every aspect of your life is crucial. One wrong step - poof! - they vanish! Not another word from them - no talking it through - nothing... you were disposable.

 

 

Sometimes you can't see it coming -- I just don't see how an innocent thing can be so devastating ... things are not always what they appear. Guess that's the trick with mirrors. They LIE. 

The Lucky One?

Am I lucky? Wait .. let me back up.

Most people who are raped don't have to see their rapist - ever again. They survive that one night of hell and he disappears into the night leaving the victim with a "larger than life" memory of himself.

For a long time I thought of him that way. I was terrified of him and the thought of him. Until recently, I had not seen him in 10 years.

At the moment I least expected it - as I thought he was far from my reality - he made his appearance and shook my world to the core. He needed to know he still had power over me - and he did. I crumbled under his gaze and his fingertips. The same familiar evil smile crossed his lips and he knew that he still owned me ... as much as he could.

Then something strange happened. The more he came around to intimidate me - the less he did. I began to realize that he is not the larger than life monster that I remember. He is a normal person - someone I can stand up to and someone I can beat. After his many appearances, he became a nobody to me ... a pest ... someone I was ready to dismiss away.

Time has passed and he has not made an appearance in my life recently. I don't know if he is bored - or I challenged him and won - or if he is just waiting ... but whatever it is - I don't care. I am the lucky one who got to face my rapist - no police - no court - no hospitals - just he and I - and walked away victorious.  He is an asshole - and that is all.

Changing Perspective

Things seems to influence my frame of mine constantly these days. Anything as simple as a new saying from a friend to a new sultry book ... it's ever changing.

What happened to me what disgusting - there is no "but" to this statement. With that being said ... I often find myself questioning my actions and reactions.

I am reading the book "Fifty Shades of Grey" and am completely hypnotized by both Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele. Her naive innocence reminds me of mine at that age - untouched and "vanilla". Christian Grey - the dominant, seductive, control freak that he is, fits the asshole to a T. The charming sweet side of him, completely captivating Miss Steele - her hunger for him and her desire to be what he wants her to be seems to be outlining the shadow that was once me. The darker side of Grey that emerges when placed inside his "Red room of pain/pleasure" stirs the uncertainty inside me and I watch the asshole emerge --- even so far as to accept 6 beatings with a belt ... all too familiar in my world of the asshole. Her explosion - her raw emotions - her lust for the sweet side of the man she and so many others have pined after.
What if I was this naive? She willingly took the beating just to please the sweet man she loved. Is that what I did? I have always thought I was completely innocent in all of the events that transpired that night - I didn't want it - but I didn't run either.

I willingly fell into the arms of the sweet man - and therefore accepted the asshole as part of the package. Is my view on this skewed? I am left with so many MORE unanswered questions and not enough energy to process and sift through the ashes to find an answer.

The entire view has changed - what if I was at fault? What if I allowed it? What if I, too, forgot the "safeword" and could have ended it at any moment ...

Normal

There are moments that I look back on and have no idea how I made it through. Thinking about it baffles me - even nauseates me. There is no explanation as to how or why I survived and so many others don't.

I am a normal person on the outside. I smile a lot and laugh a lot. I have a beautiful child and loving husband and a great dog! My life is picture perfect on the outside. You would never know the secrets that lay beneath the surface.

I think we are all like this in one way or another. We all have secrets and things in our past we wish would just disappear. I tried for a long time to push all of my secrets into a box and lock them tight forever. Sad thing is, once the box gets too full, the nasty, icky, slimy memories start to ooze out and you are no longer able to contain them. They stain everything and everyone around you. Some things are ruined - some stains wash out... reguardless of which - you are different ... flawed ... exposed.

What was I thinking?

None of this makes sense - at least to me.
There was a period of time where, during the dealing and acceptance of the rape, that I grieved for my rapist. Stupid right?

My rape (holy cow - it has taken me a LOOONNNGGGG time to say that) was very complex. There was nothing simple about it. I don't mean to belittle anyone else who has ever been raped or abused saying theirs was not as bad as mine - because no matter how bad it was - whether it was simple or not - to that person - it's lifechangingly bad.

My rapist was a sadist as well. He found arousal in the punishment and release in the sex itself. Mind games were huge with him - and I unknowingly fell right into my role as I was supposed to in his stupid plan.

Since he was so calculated in his actions - he had two sides. There was a sweet, attractive, funny man - who at times I desired to kiss. He was a protector. He saved me from the other man ... the asshole. The asshole was just that - an asshole. He was cruel and calculating and lived for the snap of his belt. Sex with him was not enjoyable - it was torture.

During the rape, there were many times where I longed for the sweet man to emerge and save me - and several times - he did. I fell in love with him. Stockholm syndrome - or so I've been told. Even years after, while replaying all of the horriffic clips in my head, I missed the sweet man. I felt as though my heart had been broken. To this day, I don't completely understand this.

Through therapy and long talks with a friend, I have managed to accept the reality. The sweet man was an illusion. He never existed. He was an act - and I bought a front row seat to the show.

I often feel foolish when I think back on my feelings through this point. I think of myself as a smart person - someone who is not easily fooled and a pretty good reader of people. Boy - I really read him wrong!

I'm not the stupid, scared, naive little girl anymore. I am a mother and a wife and a friend ... but down deep inside, that scared little girl still resides.

I am proud of the progress I have made and continue to make. It is all a part of my story - one that someday may be told to the world. It has made me who I am today - flaws and all.

My wish

I wish that life was easy. I wish the world made sense. I wish that our friends were really our friends forever. I wish that hearts didn't break, feelings didn't get hurt, and people were good.

Little girls should not sleep in fear - ever. Innocence should not be lost stolen. Tears should not be the constant comforter for anyone - child or adult.

Parents should not lose their children. Questions should not remained unanswered. Violence should not be forgotten.

I wish the world was easy. I wish the world made sense. I wish our friends were really our friends forever...