This is what rape is doing to me. I am filled with so much anger, hurt and pain and I don't know how to turn it outward. Inwards, no problem, hurting myself and blaming myself is so easy, comes too naturally. The truth is I can't stop because i am not even sure I want to. It hurts soooo bad that it feels good. it is sick, my rational mind knows this but in the moment i can not help myself. I feel like it is the only thing that saves my life. That too sounds weird I know but it's true. I mean i must be getting something from it, if I keep doing it. Okay deep down i wanna stop but I think what stops me the most is that i believe I can't stop, that I will never be free from this addiction to self inflicted pain. The emotions get so big to the point i don't think i can live with it and then I self harm and relief comes. Yes it is short lived but it is a break from the chaos that is inside the head. My head is so loud these days. Everyone inside is all kinds of confused about what is going on and I still don't know all who were present when the rape happened. Trying to go easy on myself and to be gentle. However that is so hard when I am still blaming myself. There are a few things we are keeping locked up inside with fear that others will label us sick and dirty and so we can't speak of them. This secret silence is killing us slowly. Taking a toll daily as we put the blade to our skin once again. A fight that we want to see be lifted from our body, mind, and soul. Anyways, I really needed to share this part of me cause as ugly as this all is, it is my truth. It is my reality these days and I struggle but I know I am not alone in this. There are many like me. this is a fact and yet I have never felt so alone in a long time. Here's praying it gets easier and that I will be free one day of this awful addiction. I want to believe I am better then this and love myself the way so many love me. It saddens me that my life is back in a dark place. I come back home, to the scene of the crime everyday and hope that it isn't true. That a man didn't rape me repeatedly in my own bed. Not only taking a piece of me but also stealing my safe place. God, please help me to find safe again. Inside me and outside as well. Still living in anger and fear,
Valynn and The Bunch
She approaches the door and they open like a welcome that they were waiting just for her to step inside. She wants them to know she’s not there for her. She is there in one last attempt to do the right thing. A way to say she’s sorry. Afraid that her safe place will think her efforts were dismissed. This is not the case and she just hopes she will one day know this.
Her heart knows she has already forgiven her and doesn’t even know it yet.
Approaching the second set of doors she wonders if this is all a mistake, or a nightmare, or deserved. In the deepest part of her heart she knows she is here because she is to blame. Could she ever forgive herself for this horrific mistake?!?!
A stranger stands in the door of her room and softly says, come with me. Her tone detached as she faces this situation one too many times.
Question after question, with an impact not equal to intent. With each word she is hearing her own voice for maybe the first time. Is she talking about herself or someone else?
Cotton balls, needles, swabs, gauze, Band-Aids, tests, paper work, in a box with a seal. A collection of damage pieces placed in this box. Paper bags to contain her under clothes. A fresh pair of panties are handed to her with the question do you like blue or would you prefer another. Thinking to her-self, does it really matter when the flames will destroy any proof of their existence. The photo set of snap shots in her head will be plenty souvenir enough of the actual event.
She places her head on the soft pillow and hears the words, it’s almost over. And she knows all too well the struggle has only just begun.
The pain pierces through her body and she finds herself there again in the moment only a day ago. The tears stream down her face and she questions how she will ever be able to say sorry to the one who offered her another solution. The regret is loud but does not offer a distraction from the memories. The pain is unbearable and her screams suck any oxygen left out of the cold bright room.
She can’t breathe and although she knows she doesn’t deserve it, she secretly hopes she will receive support.
6 months to make a tough choice, will she fight or give up again this time. After the deadline it’s all thrown away like nothing happen but stored in her brain.
This is not how she thought she would end this day, with pills upon pills to make things okay.
Knowing she has done something right for once for herself brings little to no comfort because the sad unfortunate truth is that it was a day too late.
IT'S NOT MY FAULT!!!
I DIDN'T FUCK MY LIFE UP BY MYSELF!!!
WHY DO I HAVE TO FIX IT MYSELF!!!???
I FEEL SO ALONE!!!!!!
GOD, PLEASE HEAR MY CRY!
Less than whole, with a broken heart!
Tonight I kneel, tonight I cry out, tonight I pray,
to believe, IT'S NOT MY FAULT!!
Guess the broken promises added up again, today. Couldn't breathe, couldn't put away the intense feelings. Yesterdays session with the PDoc opened up some stuff that we just couldn't seem to put away. *crying....
Needed to feel the blade against the skin. Are we real, are we alive? Tried many things this pass evening and none of it helped. Feel like such a failure as usual. I am so sorry N, S, PDoc P and mostly to the littles. Afraid to sleep, it is almost 4am and we know he awaits us there. His hands on our body make it difficult to sit in this skin. After almost 6 weeks we fucked up. The blood helps us know we are alive. Most think we shouldn't talk about this but to those who don't like it press the little X in the top cornor of the window and you never have to come here and read about it again. IT HURTS!!!!!! FUCKING HATE HIM!!!! HATE THEM!!!! It's not fair!!! Wish we could have said something.........sigh......Going to the washroom we found the stash of razors...wish we would have said that and had them put somewhere else. Now the blades are back in our possesion. Took all of 2 mins to pop them open and do damage. Don't know what to say.....Part of us is like, whatev, who friigin cares....you get a break but it never really goes away. Thinking this will be the hardest addiction to tackle. Sadly, can't wait to do it again but not the only one up any more.....
Written by: Can't tell....but we're in this together her and I.....
When people ask me "how can you believe in God after all that has happened to you?" I reply, how could I not. I don't believe God doesn't exist because of what happen as a child. Rather I BELIEVE GOD is there because I survived!
I’m remembering, his smell, his touch, his breath. I was only a kid… It’s all coming back way to hard and way to fast.
A video I made awhile back that I wanted to share.
Day 23 is A letter to someone, anyone!
I am taking this title literally, Writing to no one I know, just to that
someone, anyone who reads and listens.
Dear Someone/Anyone,
Have you ever felt so alone in the middle of a crowd?, That you were
screaming and yet only silence was heard?, That even with your best efforts you
come up short?
I have, I am there now. Even when my rational mind knows that people love and
care for me, I am embarrassed to admit that I feel so isolated and alone.
Everyone in my life is trying so hard to be there for me and yet, as my core
belief whispers to me daily..."It's never enough..."
I feel like I don't deserve those who care for me and love me so. I also
secretly, quietly, at night alone, hope that they would just disappear and then
I could just end it all, knowing that no one will be affected from my exit from
this planet I've called home for 33 years.
This world, this life is way out of balance for me these days. More bad,
evil, ugly, then good. My childhood was not one to make a scrap book of memories
over. I sooner forget it. Not such an easy task. My past has it's hands around
my neck and more times then not I can't breath.
Simply opening up my mouth doesn't offer air to my screaming lungs. Rather I
breath through my skin in the form of red tears. Each scar left when settled
tells a story of torment, abuse, evil, and hate. Love is no where to be found in
these times.
Escaping from my mind happens when the white powder is forced up my nose or
the intake of anything that detaches me from my body. A temporary fix that
leaves me with the same horror I try to escape when I return and with nothing
less then added self hatred.
Another form of escape comes from an uncontrolled place when I sit in a
frozen position. I travel to other times, places, and memories, through
alters/dissociating. "We are one body, many souls." My name is Valynn, I suffer
with addiction (145 days clean today.) I am tormented with an addiction to self
harming. (I cut mostly.) I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse/rape. (As a
result I live with DID ~Dissociative Identity Disorder.)
If you or someone you know is suffering please know, you are not alone. I am
the living proof that although we suffer many times alone, in silence, we truly
are not by ourselves. Many, so many, can relate. That is why I feel it is so
important to share your story, through words, song, art, pictures. Whatever
outlet helps you breath in a positive way.
So we can be heard not necessarily by others who don't understand but rather by those who do. So we can draw upon each
others strengths to continue to survive. We were victims, we are survivors but together and only truly together can we become thrivers. The people we were meant to be. Our pain and suffering doesn't have to end in vein. We can use it,
to become powerhouses to those who have not yet found their voice.
I love you all, not because I know you, because I am you. Many have walked the same path.
Let us join hands and hearts and help each other feel the love we all deserve as
human beings first and foremost. Keep yourselves safe tonight and hold onto my
hand knowing in this very moment of darkness, YOU ARE NO LONGER ALONE!
In Love and Light,
Valynn ~Safe Hugs~
This is the condom with teeth. It is a condom specifically made to protect women from rape. It is inserted like a tampon, and won’t hurt the girl, only her attacker. When the man thrusts into her, the condom clasps down and can only be removed surgically. It was invented by South African doctor Dr. Sonnet Ehlers, and it was inspired when the Dr. treated a rape victim who said sadly, ‘If only I had teeth down there.’ The condom is being given out in South Africa, and to women in the military.
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