A Reflection

What are the best decisions in my life? I have a few. There's the decision to go to college and get an education. There's the decision I made to marry my husband, which included the decision to become a step-mother and a whole new family. There's the decision I made to work, be able to provide for myself. There was the decision to pick up the bass guitar and rock my little heart out! Then, and this could be one my best decisions, perhaps second to marrying my husband, is speaking out about my rape and assuming the role of advocate and warrior, shedding the shackles of victimization to the freedom of being a survivor. Let me elaborate.I

I first timidly discussed the issue with very few people. A couple of close friends knew, my husband and brother knew, and that was about all. I lived in secret. I kept it all inside. I did go to therapy, but it was still inside me, the sickness caused by someone violating my mind, body, and soul so cruelly. A couple years ago, I told my mother. She held me and we cried together; then she offered to "kill the bastard" herself. I have a really great mom, and she has been nothing but absolutely supportive of me in every endeavor of my life. She even apologized to me fairly recently for thinking I was partying instead of self-medicating with alcohol. She thought I was living it up, when I was actually drinking my blues away (which it didn't) and my grades dropped in college.

Then, I made the decision to speak out. It was out of an anger and outrage so fierce that my guts ached. Without even really thinking clearly, I posted a facebook entry "I am a Medusa", not fully understanding the ramifications of my declaration. It was my way of saying, "Hey world, I was raped my a monster" without saying it explicitly. I got some confused messages, some, okay, go with it girl messages, but most said nothing. I wanted to scream from the rooftop that I was raped, and it was not my fault. I think it took learning that HE raped someone else to fully reconcile my innocence in the matter. I kept thinking, there must have been something I did or something I said and didn't know it. I kept thinking, yes, HE violated me, but I must have allowed it to happen somehow. No. No. NO! NO, it isn't my fault! It was HIS fault. Anyone who has ever been abused, molested, raped, assaulted, or otherwise violated is not to be blamed for the incident; it is the perpetrator's fault. Whether convicted of the crime or not, the perpetrator is to blame. That was a difficult thing to accept, but I have!

I also have built a safety net of people I trust and am comfortable talking about my issues. Recently, as I've been so open about all of my experience, I haven't had many issues. An occasional nightmare, but not nearly as severe as before I was able to build a support network. It's liberating to have a support network of other individuals who understand because they too have been violated by a monster(s). I've heard stories that left me thinking, I'd have killed myself! Then I've heard stories so similar to my own that it's eery. Apparently the wait-til-she's-passed-out method of rape is popular amongst rapists.

The support network, how can I describe it? It's like having a net while walking the high tightrope. It's like having your dad hang on to the back of your bike as you learn to ride two-wheels. It's a great feeling! I thought at the beginning, I'd be met with a lot of hatred from people who blame the victims and other weirdos. It's been quite the opposite, I'm happy to say. People have come to me for support, and others have come to me to offer support. And with each new connection, bond is built in that security network. It's easy to give support to others now. I know how they feel. I know what's happening inside their minds and to their bodies (yes, there are physical postrape symptoms). I know what they are thinking, the despair, the sadness, the guilt, the self-blame, the nightmares, the triggers, the never-ending thought in the forefront of their every waking and often sleeping days. I know it. I've been there. I have bad days, but who doesn't? It's part of learning, growing, and healing.

I'm also encouraged by opportunities afforded me that were never previously apparent. I've been offered to do a book review (which is in the works, and should be published and a version in my blog, soon). I've been able to put my feelings down on paper and in music. I have a song called "One for the Stalker" that was inspired by a Dr. Pepper run before work a few months ago. I also have one that needs music called "For the Damned", about my rapist. I'm excited to be able to do these projects and to be able to explore my experiences and other's experiences through artistic means. I've also drawn, painted, and expressed my rage through these mediums. I have a piece above my mantle, a texturized piece, and when I look at it, I see chaos, turmoil, and I think it is representative of myself at that time (I was also dealing with the stalker during this time).

If I can say one thing, it doesn't matter if you have support from friends and family, many survivors do not. The important thing is to be true to yourself, know what is true, and build a support network for yourself. I'm always available by e-mail or on Facebook. I am well aware I would not be as far along in this healing process as I am if I had maintained my silence. Silence only prolongs the suffering. I want to thank my support network, express my gratitude and love, and leave you with one thought: "Be the change you wish to see in the world" - Unknown.