These past few days have been really testing, and much too painful. To say it simply, it is haunting. I’m referring to the discussion found here, here and here, pertaining to the use and misuse of the word rape, and the effects the misuse of this word has on those who have suffered such a horrendous act. So, in taking an assertive step, and in moving forward, I’m posting this. (Long entry below.)
Last month, I traveled home to see my sick grandma, and was lucky enough to see her alive, if only for a few hours. During my stay with my parents, my mother and I were in constant conversation; we had a world of catching up to do. After all, it’s not the same speaking on the phone over thousands of miles than enjoying conversation in person.
Among the many things we spoke about, my mother related a story to me regarding a victim of rape. I listened intently, and empathized with the young woman in the story. I cried with my mom as she worked through her own feelings, just imagining what it must have been like for this young woman. I nodded in confirmation as mom continued expressing her outside view of how this person is dealing with the after effects. As I began speaking, I was immediately struck with shock at the words I was about to say –but didn’t. I was about to speak about how I understood -completely- and relate the story of another young girl that was a victim of rape, and what her experience of life has been after that. The thing is, I have NEVER told my parents this story –it is my story. To this day, they do not know I am a victim of rape.
It is incredibly hard and painful to write this, so please bear with me if at any time I do sound incoherent and make no sense. I have been open and shared my story with others, but it has always face to face. There have been two online exceptions: 1. Lori, who has been my best friend for over six years (a friendship which began online and the one person I can't wait to go visit in Canada), and 2. when I used to write for the online magazine, BellaOnline.com. Some of you within the blogging community that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting personally may know; most my friends are aware of what I have been through.
I’ve been able to help guide others in a direction where they could get the help they needed. I’ve driven them to the emergency room, and even accompanied others to file the report. Sometimes I’m surprised that I can do this, yet I was not able to do it for myself. Perhaps that is why I do it, that in some way, by helping them, I’m able to help heal a little bit of myself?
I thought I was OK – not recovered, not perfect, but dealing, so in a sense OK. I felt so comfortable speaking about it that I almost told my mom, in a somewhat casual but intense conversation! It makes me shudder to recall that. So there has been healing. However, I recognize that I’m not OK, that this affects me still, some days more than others. I also recognize that inevitably there will always be something or someone that will trigger emotions that will be hard to work through, that will make me crumble. The post and comments that followed at SC&A has been one of those instances. I don’t believe I have ever ‘spoken’ online about it, not this way, in a somewhat open forum as a blog can be, and that is perhaps what caught me off guard (because that is how most of us live the rest of our lives- guarded). In speaking up online, I’ve cast myself into a somewhat unfamiliar territory. I recognize that this has triggered the need for healing in yet another level, and I accept. I also grateful to these people, because they are helping me along the way, and helping create an awareness: Square1, MaxedOutMama, SC&A.
I bear a scar as a victim of rape. Unlike other scars, this one will remain with me for the rest of my life. Rape scars a person in all levels: physical, mental, emotional, spiritual. I will always need to tend to my scar. But because I bear this scar, I also have a responsibility: I will continue to tell my story, break the silence, help in creating awareness, and help others do the same.
Yes, I am a victim of rape. But I am also a survivor.
zee, i love you, and not in that creepy internet stalking kind of way. i admire your strength, wisdom, intelligence and beauty.
i have a speech to go give, but you've inspired me to write a bit of what i'm dealing with currently, with both friends and myself. so later, i'll post.
thanks zee. *hug*
All rape victims have to move on - they've survived a horrible ordeal, but being a survivor means you must keep living. And that's hard. It's hard to be 'normal' when you aren't feeling it, to put on a brave face when you feel anything but. By sharing your story, your struggles, you are showing us courage.
Everyone deals with rape differently, and all you can do is what feels best for you. Keep living, and doing it well.
J
The respect I have for you just by reading your blog has risen immeasurably.
You are a wonderful woman.
((((((((((((zee)))))))))))))))
You're not a victim anymore. You are a survivor. Healing is a process. That process teaches you how to live beyond surviving. Sometimes it's easy. Sometimes it's painstaking, but always you move forward.
There are three kinds of energy according to the laws of physics.
Dynamic- which is constantly growing and acccumulating.
Static- which means something maintaining it's present state.
And Entropic- which is the deterioration or chaotic form of energy.
Our spirits are no different. The trick is, keeping yourself from being shoved out of the dynamic phase. It's hard. But there are people out there who understand, and are always willing to listen and offer encouragement.
I get upset when I hear someone talk about "recovering" from rape. "Recover" implies things can be brought back to the condition they were in before the event, but that's not possible with rape. One doesn't recover. One survives. Or not.
Your ability and desire to help others is encouraging. No need to analyze it to death. Hugs to you.
-G
Oh Zee!
You never told your mother? I burst out crying.
The most frightening thing about rape, to me, is that people don't speak about it, that people can get isolated in it. In many ways that's similar to any other awful experience that those around us can't quite understand. Being the victim of any crime, racism, abuse (especially spousal), having a severe illness or disability - anything that people are scared of and don't understand they tend to turn their faces away from. Unfortunately that defensive reflex leaves the people suffering alone, feeling isolated.
The things that frighten society are the ones that we want to keep silent. Oh Zee.
I am sorry you were attacked. I don't believe such things have a purpose, but I do believe that surviving does, and I believe that survivors provide hope and help to all of us.
I am terribly sorry that the experience was painful for you. What happened was that I read some of the comments to SC&A's first post, and I lost it. I swear to you that this sort of *flash* thing happened, and I saw a room, and heard some one saying what was written, and I saw the faces of some women I know, listening to some one talk that way, and I knew, just knew, that they wouldn't be able to tell the speaker off. So I did.
But I'm sorry that it was so jolting. Really, really sorry.
Zee, I don't know how to say this without sounding condescending (and as I only 'met' you last night), but I am proud of you. You are a true survivor. Bless you. May all that Is, bless you.
Some of us who have survived hope that there is some recovery... even if not total, because if there is nothing of ourselves that can be recovered, then the perpetrator has truly won.
I hope this comes out sounding the way I mean it - - I believe that some people are victimized; but there is a choice whether to be victims or survivors. You, my dear, are a survivor. I pray for your continued healing.
it seems as though we have more in common than originally though.. *hugs*