Can You Hear Me Now?

It has been a while since I have posted publicly to my blog. At times I feel it is best my thoughts remain private, but right now, I only feel I need my voice to be heard.

I don’t know how many tines I have written about the invisible terrors mental illness causes. I have probably spoken on this topic far more than I could count. One thing I often don’t talk about though sexual assault. Now for those who may be triggered or have a hard time reading about these types of things, I do encourage you stop now. I would never want anyone else to relive trauma.

Now, every form of abuse I have suffered still causes me problems in my life. This very specific form of abuse however hurts me in ways I can’t even comprehend.

I want to tell a brief story. There was a young man who came to my work place looking for a home. Now, to everyone else, he probably seemed normal. If anything, maybe he seemed to be a tad bit conceited. To me, he was different. This man’s personality, his actions, & his mannerisms flipped a switch in my head. In my mind, I have seen him before. Even though I probably had never actually met him, my mind knew him. My mind recognized his mannerisms and set off a warning alarm. My body’s fight or flight defenses turned on because all of a sudden, It wasn’t a stranger. This man wanted to hurt me, degrade me, rape me.

I don’t know him and he probably is an okay guy, but from past experiences, my mind and body thought this man was threatening. It pulled to mind gruesome memories and details that I never wanted to think. Now, do you want to know the worst part? It was noon and I still had to work six more hours before I could go home and cry.

One of the worst feelings a sexual assault victim can feel is degraded and unheard. My mind screams internally and my body feels numb. Those same describing words could be used to describe several of the sexual assaults I have survived. I’m fighting this deadly feeling and I can’t say a word.

Why don’t I say something? Well, times like these happen more often than I care to admit and if I said something every time, I would surely turn into the boy who cried wolf. That is why I stay silent. I keep quiet until I get to a time that my body produces a physical reaction: sobbing, yelling, convulsions, hair pulling, etc. I wait until this happens because I know people will see something is actually wrong. They will be able to hear me. They will be able to understand. It’s like my mind is screaming “CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW!?”

I hate living life like this. I’m in constant fear. I wonder if anyone can relate. My therapist suggested I get a doctors note so if I feel unheard, people will believe me. My everyday life consists of trying to stay calm and trying to remain normal. I practice many coping skills throughout the day just to function.

Sometimes it’s even worse after I go to therapy because it brings things up that I would rather ignore. I have been hurt too much and I’m mad that it’s able to control me. I’m mad it can hold me hostage. I’m mad it can take me away from my work. I’m mad that it effects my intimacy with my husband. My mind is mad and now it’s screaming at all the men who hurt me “CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?”

That is why I wanted to make this public. I want people that know me, to hear me. I want them hear the silent screams for help. I want others who read it to relate or to hear others. Think of the four closest women to you. Now pick one. Statistically one in every four women are sexually assaulted in their lives. Let our voices be heard. Because sexual assault isn’t just a “me too” Facebook post and then let’s all forget. Sexual assault is a monster that devours its victims daily.

So this goes out to those who feel like they can’t be heard. And I ask those around me, can you hear me now?


A work in progress…

It all started with a simple snap of the mind. One single phrase brought to my mind terrible visions and pictures of things I wish I could have long forgotten.  

That is how it started. This week has been a first.  It has been the first time since I have been stable that I truly have started to feel the weight of all that happened during the last 4 years.  It has hit hard by bringing me feelings, memories, visions, and pictures.  It has brought my mood into a place of depression.  It has me fear mania when I feel myself rise again, so I try not to let myself rise. 

I think a lot of it is medical and thankfully I will be seeing my doctor soon, but as it stands, I have to admit that I hate this.  The thing about depression or bipolar disorder is you constantly feel like you are under attack.  Literally, your mind wants you dead. Mine does anyway.

Part of it is that I don’t think I have even began properly dealing with any of the trauma, because we have been so fearful just for my everyday life until this point.  So now that I’m doing better, the harder stuff is starting to surface.  As much as I wish I could never think about the abuse, the rapes, the addiction, I know I have to in order to heal. I know I have to to move forward.

Honestly,  the hardest thing for me to face is the part a rarely speak of.  I have called myself a harlot or a prostitute in the past but nothing seems to fit what happend.  I was messed up.  I was numb to everything in the world.  This is what I always refer to as my rock bottom because in my life, I don’t think I could have groveled any lower than I did.  I’ve been told I was victim.  I have also been told I’m not what I did, but no matter, it is still something that makes me sick every time I think about it.  I’ve wished the word whore be tattooed on me so people know exactly who I am.

But is that really who I am? During my darkest days, I did some awful things that should define me… but they don’t.  Strangers would never guess that is what once was.  I’m free from it outwardly. I also know in Christ I have a new Identity. One that is in him.  

Freedom from the memories is what’s still holding me.  And it’s not that I want to forget because it’s all a part of my testimony. It drives me to be the best me I can be.  I just don’t want it to haunt me. I don’t want to fear.  

So, I guess I’m still human and still dealing with my demons. We all are. We all have to. 

Not sure what else to say.


If you loved me, you would…

“If you loved me you would.” is a phrase often muttered when trying to force someone into an intimate encounter.  

An intimate encounter can’t occur if someone feels pressured into doing something.

Doing something doesn’t mean you have to yell rape and fight your way out.

Your way out may only seem to be in the moment giving into the pleas.

The please believe I was raped by my boyfriend is not so easy to fight.

To fight with no evidence means it’s not worth your time.

Your time has come to face him again because to the world, a lack of a no is a resounding yes.

Yes, I liked him, but that sure doesn’t mean, I wanted to be taken as a whore by this man I just met.

I just met some people, who told me today that my rape isn’t valid and I gave it away.

I gave it away to the man that I love because sex is more than just two bodies.

Two bodies becoming one means heart mind and spirt; not choking me and spitting in my hair.

My hair reminds me everyday, to cover up  for I am natures prey.

Prey on the weak is natures natural call, but don’t prey on me again for I am stronger than you all.

You all may beat me in running or lifting weights however my mind has beaten death.

Death is a fact we all face, but it is not my time yet, and neither is it yours for “If you loved me you would..” fight to stay alive one day more.

The Man Of The Night

Too often have I met you
In this dark ally I find
The ghosts of the little girl I left behind
You greet me with a flash of pearly whites
You take this trembling hand of mine

They say light will guide you home
The only thing guiding me is the man of the night
The light looks great, but I know it’s my fate
To follow the man of the night

As we move about, I see others watching me
Piercing my soul with their gaze
The same ones who would have a hard time with me if I said I was gay 
This time they love me and don’t want me to leave
I feel a tug on my arm, it’s time to move away from their please.

They say light will guide you home
The only thing guiding me is the man of the night
The light looks great, but I know it’s my fate
To follow the man of the night

I see our destination is almost in sight
I see a footstool next to the rope on a tree
He pushes me forward
A reminder that this is the only way
I can finally be free from the demons that are haunting me

They say light will guide you home
The only thing guiding me is the man of the night
The light looks great, but I know it’s my fate
To follow the man of the night

I step on the stool
I look straight in his eyes
The rope around my neck had been tied
I take one last breath before I say my goodbyes
When I look down, I see something I recognize

Those demons of hell, they were waiting for me.
The same ones that tormented my being
I looked up in fear as I realized the man was never my friend.

They say light will guide you home
The only thing guiding me is the man of the night
The light looks great, but I know it’s my fate
To follow the man of the night
But it was never my fate, it was never my call
I won’t follow that man. I will conquer them all.

This is For the Broken

Figuring out why life has got to be this way

It turns me to my bed, the only place I lay

Things once were simpler. I could laugh in a blissful paradise.

Now I sit here and ponder every decision I make so I don’t have to think twice.

I lay awake wishing lord here is my soul to take

If I live on here is my plee, take these haunting memories for goodness sake

I’m tired of seeing my rapist walk the same roads as I

With a smile on his face and a glen in his eye

This world is messed up, you all know it’s true

Why can’t a singer be away from the man that hurt her too

The worst thing you can call a woman is a bitch or a cunt

But the worst thing you can call a man is a girl. Now how is that not messed up?

Why is it when someone stands up for justice

People think every one is against them

If you’re so defensive about being a majority

Next time try being the minority 

I’m not blaming anyone but the system

I just don’t want people to tell me I need to sleep with him because I kissed him.

I’m sick of being told medication for my illness is wrong

Then listening to music rapping about abusing those same drugs in every song

I’ll be fine, I alway will be

& I will change the world someday, just you wait and see

The Longest Year

It’s crazy how one year can look so incredibly different from the last.  On tomorrow’s date (February 27th) two life changing events mark their claim.

Tomorrow, on Saturday February 27, 2016, my brother and best friend will be taking the women he’s been dating for 4 years to be his wife.  Tomorrow, I will gain a beautiful sister.  We will be celebrating with joy in our hearts the unity of two people in Christ.  Tears will flow filled with joy for their new life together.

Last year, on February 27, 2015, I made the suicide attempt that sent my life into a tailspin. One year ago, I overdosed in an attempt to kill myself.  After being taken to the hospital and spending the night, I was informed my time in Guatemala, the country that I love, was coming to an end.  That day marked the beginning of many hard months. Loneliness, anxiety, hospital stays, and thoughts of death continued through the next few months.  One year ago, my life almost ended.  

In many ways, my life did end on that day.  That’s say brought me to rock bottom. Rock bottom, however, is the very foundation on which I was able to build my life.  Through many tears of sorrow, tomorrow, I can cry tears of joy as a celebrate life. Not only my brother and new sisters life, but also the life I worked hard to save.  Tomorrow I’ll stand happy God didn’t let my life end one year ago, so I could witness my brothers “I do” and know he wouldn’t be the same without me there too.

Dear Addiction,

I don’t love you anymore.  My life has been revolving around you for far too long.  The moment I saw you, I was tempted by the look in your eye. At the first kiss of my lips I was captivated.  You brought me into your world and echanted me with all of your riches. When I was with you, I felt the whole world was at my finger tips.  You made me happy, you made me smile, you fulfilled me.  Until you left.  When you were gone I was lost.  All I could think about was you.  I wanted to feel your warm embrace.  I needed you to make me happy, without you I was lost. So I found you again.  You welcomed me back, this time with a heavy hand.  The riches you gave were just an illusion. The joy I felt was fake.  Your smile was filled with lies.  The eyes of a used car sales man with a mask on. You captured me, but cheated me out of true happiness.  The longer I was with you, the stronger your hold.  You held me captive with your strong arms.  When I finally left you, you wee all I could thing about.  Inception took place in my mind.  I close my eyes and I dreamed of you.  I remembered everything you had to offer. I almost forgot how you destroyed my life.  Once I was free, I would still think of you. I’d think maybe if I went back I wouldn’t have to stay long.  I knew that’s not how you function though. You prey on those who are weak.  You infect them with a craving that only you can satisfy. Then you steal everything they have until they are left with a life without dignity.  I hate you.  You stole so much from me that I can never get back.  I am stronger though.  I have overcome your flirtatious stare; I reject your promise of great things.  You no longer control my life.  I am the author of my story and I left you in the last chapter. So here I say it, dear addiction,  I will not let you hold me again.