Tag Archives: Crime

Try to discuss your sex life in detail with your uncle

I have not told more than a handful of my closest friends and family about this blog and yet I had about 200 visitors last month. This means that you who have visited the blog has found your way here on your own, I do not know if it’s good or bad. Good because it is important that things like this comes up to the surface so it does not become something to be ashamed of. Bad because some of you may have ended up on my blog because you’ve been through something similar, and I do not mean bad that you ended up here but tragic that it happened to you too. I feel for you. 

I have a wish that one day I can be the public with my blog, I know I write that you should not be ashamed that you the victim of a rapist while I am not ready to stand for it myself. I really do not know why, I do not feel ashamed and I do not want it to be something that must be kept secret. I just want to be strong enough to handle the comments that comes with it, from those who think that rape is something you must blame yourself for. I do not understand how these people think, unfortunately they do exist. Narrow minded idiots. 

At the moment I am at a crossroad, I don’t know which way to go from here. I know I am not done with therapy but at the same time I am not ready for more therapy right here and right now, it have to wait.  When I have had my darkest and toughest moments I wished for someone to know what it was like, I didn’t want to know the person because that would be too much. I can’t really explain it but when it comes to rape it is so shameful and sickening so talking about it is really hard, especially with people you know. Try to talk to your mum, dad, brother or sister about your sex life, as detailed as possible and you can understand what I mean. Maybe helping others can heal me but next problem is I don’t really know how to help others. Any ideas? I want this to end up in something good, I don’t want this to only result in struggle, self-destruction and depression. I know that if I can create something out of this, it will be easier to live with. 

I want a normal sex-life, dont know it that is ever going to happen. That really really sucks. Just had to share it.

 

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Shame on you!

This blog is my naked story, I don’t hide anything and it is my words describing exactly how I am feeling. I try to write about absolutely everything, because rape isn’t just affecting you when it happens it affects your everyday life, everyday for the rest of your life. This is my diary, I have decided to write in a public media so others can read it because I know how important it is to not keep a story like this to your self. The shame that comes with it makes it harder to share and we need to make this an ok thing to talk about. We need to get rid of the shame in telling the world you have been raped. You would tell the world if you wore robbed, beaten or cheated on but not that you were raped. This is wrong, this is the shame talking and the rapist winning.

Sometimes I need a break from the blog, because what I write is so loaded with shame and anxiety that I am almost disgusted by my own words. My own worlds are to strong for me to handle.  Sometimes I read the post loud to myself, it is amongst the most painful experiences but it helps me. It helps me to listen to my own story and to accept that it is ok to be hurt. Reading it out loud is like the final statement that this has actually happened to me.

Even those days where I feel absolutely great, where everything just feels so right this hangs over me like a dark cloud. I can cuddle in bed with my man and from nowhere my rapists face is stuck on my cornea, I feel sick and I have to put all my energy and focus on not throwing up. This instead of being able of enjoying life and love. I need to write this, I need to put this in words so that I can remind myself that it is ok. I can’t control life but I can make the most out of it, I can either be stuck in my past or I can take control of it.  It took me years before I could tell my closest my story, It was the hardest thing I have ever done but It has also given me the greatest rewards. I now have the support that I need, If I don’t tell, I let the rapist win. The shame is his, not mine. I am giving it back.

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Pretty smile hides dark secret

I’m sitting, I’m starring, I’m feeling, I’m hurting, I’m breathing, I’m trying. There is a lot of “I’m” but if you would see me through my livingroom window right now all you would see is a girl sitting on her couch with a laptop in her knee. You wouldn’t see all the “I’m” because no one can tell the struggle I feel inside just from looking at me. Right now there is a war inside of me, there is a lot of “I want to“and there are more of “But I just don’t”. It’s not that I don’t want to deal with my emotions, write my story, let the pain out and all of that it is just that; I’m sitting, I’m starring, I’m feeling, I’m hurting, I’m breathing, I’m trying.

I want to write down my story so I can report the rapist, the sexual abuser, the one who stole something to the police. I’ve even opened the document and I can’t even bare to read what has already been written. That is how much it hurts to face what I’ve been through. Writing the story is accepting that it has really happened and it happened to me. I keep thinking that I’m passed the accepting phase but I just realised that I’m not because if I were I wouldn’t avoid writing the rest of the story. I think I have accepted that it happened to me but not all of what it means. I still can’t say it out loud;

  • I have been raped

  • I have been sexually abused

As soon as the two sentences above was written I caught myself looking everywhere else but on the computer screen. It’s hard to keep writing, because there it is in black bold letters. It is my story. My past. My secret. My pain. With tears in my eyes I try to force myself to read it, over and over and over and over again. I don’t know what else to do, what else can I do? I keep telling myself that for every time I read it I take one step closer to realising that I can’t escape it. It is what it is. It will never be easy, it will never go away but one day maybe I can read it and not look away. I hope that I can turn it around, find some kind of strength in it. I need to find a positive outcome of it because without it, whats the point in fighting it?

I’ve learned one thing from it. Never ever judge a person on his or her looks, smile or eyes. The saying never judge a man without walking a day in his shoes is pure human knowledge. Even the prettiest smiles, the kindest eyes and the most fashionable looks can hide the deepest pain, the darkest secrets and the blackest past. We have all had different opportunities in how to handle situations so painful you’re thinking of giving up breathing just to stop the unbearable pain. You could never tell what I live through every day by just looking at me, you cant even tell by knowing me. I am a living example of that the prettiest smiles hides the darkest secrets. So “Dont ever judge a man without walking a day in hus shoes”.

Im gathering all the courage I have, I need it, it is story from hell telling time.

“We can spend our lives letting the world tell us who we are. Sane or insane. Saints or sex addicts. Heroes or victims. Letting history tell us how good or bad we are. Letting our past decide our future. Or we can decide for ourselves. And maybe it’s our job to invent something better.” -Chuck Palahniuk

It still hurts every day and for that I hate you.

 

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