FriendBurst Blog

Pisses me off to no end.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had someone say to me:

“You can’t allow what happened to ruin you.”

“You have to move on. You’re letting your rapist ‘win’ by not getting on with your life and by dwelling on the past.”

And one asshole had the gall to say to me:

“You’re really good at playing the victim aren’t you?”

I replied to that remark by saying:

“There is a difference between “playing the victim”, and BEING a victim.”

Which got me thinking…..

Some people are raped and are able to pull themselves together and move forward seemingly effortlessly.. They’re so strong. Something awful happens to them and they rise above it all and come out of their trauma wiser and more courageous. They’re pretty inspirational.

Others, like myself, don’t do so well.

I went from being a straight A student to a dropout who turned to alcohol and drugs to self medicate. I rebelled against everything and everyone.

I simply didn’t care about myself, at all. I really lost myself, for a long time..

Looking back at it, I pretty much tempted death over and over again with my self destructive behavior.

It’s fascinating to me, that some people are so fragile, and some so resilient. We all have a breaking point.

What’s interesting is how one person can be totally destroyed by what happens to them, yet another person, when faced with similar circumstances, is able to get through it and come out stronger than they were before.

I often wish that I could be that type of person, the one who is able to cope and “move on”..

But then again I often wonder if anyone ever really “moves on” to begin with.

If you can ever, really and truly, “get over” something like that.

I am beginning to think I will never “get over this”.

Twelve fucking years later I am still screwed up. And I HATE that.

12 years later I still have nightmares.

12 years later I still suffer from severe anxiety attacks… (For example, if I end up being locked in a room, I immediately feel like I’m having a heart attack, can’t breathe and get hysterical.)

And in the throes of an anxiety attack,  I just can’t, for the life of me, rationalize it away….Even though I know, rationally, that I’m in no danger whatsoever.

It’s frustrates me, to no end, to sit here, writing to you, about something that happened twelve years ago, because it seems to me like it’s barely been a week, and the wounds inflicted on me, one day when I was 14, are still festering and some seem almost as fresh, as if I was raped yesterday.

I’ve slowly come to the conclusion that there simply is no “moving on” or “getting over it” for me. Though I wish I could and hope one day I will..

And that pisses me off, too.

So, what do you do?

You keep going. You keep living your life even though it sucks sometimes. You laugh and smile and enjoy spending time with people who love you in spite of the fact that there’s a part of you which is completely nuts.

You cry and you get pissed and you fight to keep going.

You accept the fact that you will never be the same again and embrace the lessons learned.

Sounds like a crock of shit but what else can you do?

Hope for the best I guess.

Maybe part of “moving on” is realizing nothing will ever be the same and pushing through anyway.

Maybe those people, whom I admire so and wish I could be like, the true “survivors” who have been through the mill and still come out seemingly unscathed and even more amazing because of whatever trauma they’ve endured, are as fucked up deep inside somewhere, just like I am, but just hide it better.

Maybe “moving on” and “getting over it” is impossible.

And maybe, just maybe, in spite of everything. In spite of the hurt and the heartache and the sadness and the anxiety attacks and depression, in spite of knowing that some wounds never fully heal..

Maybe being a victim is a good thing.

I am a victim, of a crime, which was committed without my consent and which almost destroyed me entirely.

Somehow, I am still here, and the self-destructive tendencies I had are mostly gone.

I am still here.

I’ve been through hell, and will probably endure some more pain because of it.

But I’ve also learned a lot.

I’ve become a different person because of what happened. This pisses me off, too.

But maybe there is an up side to this “being the victim” thing.

If I had never been raped, I never would have done a lot of stupid, foolish, careless and dumb things for four or five years.. I never would of met a lot of people whom I probably never should have even associated with in the first place.

I probably never would have become addicted to drugs.

And I would probably be somewhere completely different than I am now.

Yet, in those years of craziness, I obtained a capability for empathy and compassion many people twice my age will never know.

I aquired an understanding and wisdom which most my age can’t comprehend.

I learned more about myself, about who I am and who I’m not, than anyone who hasn;t been to the bowels of hell and back ever could..

I’ve obtained a depth which many are incapable of..

I’ve learned to appreciate myself again and love myself again and be comfortable with myself again in spite of my quirks and eccentricities.

At almost 26 years old, I have already discovered who I am.

Some people never really know themselves. They’re too busy putting on different masks to the point that they don’t even recognize themselves..

They’ve never been forced to face their darkest fears, never been trapped in the deepest recesses of their minds and had to claw their way up out of the darkness to find the light, which never really goes out after all no matter how bad things may be….

I am who I am because of what I’ve seen, because of what I’ve felt, because of what I’ve lost, and because of what I’ve gained along the way.

I have walked in the shoes of a  rape victim, a drug addict, a rebel, a runaway, an “undesirable”, and a broken fragile scared little girl, and I survived.

Because of what I’ve been through I can reach out to others who are in the same boat I was in not too long ago and can help them more than anyone who has not really felt their pain.

Yes, “being the victim” can be a curse, but it can also be a blessing.

So maybe it’s time to embrace being a victim. and everything else which has shaped me into who I have become, and keep it moving.

Maybe that is what truly makes the victim, a survivor.

Peace and Luv,

Janie

*UPDATE*

Thanks so much to everyone who has been brave enough to share their own stories, and helped inspire me.. And to everyone who has been so supportive.

I’m honored and humbled and immensely touched by all of you…

If anyone is dealing with PTSD, or has been raped/sexually assualted/abused/molested, please visit these links for help and support by either clicking on the pic or links:

RAINN
Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network

I Am A Survivor- Speak …

PTSD Awareness

And my dear friend Robin wrote a great blog after she read mine about her experience and thoughts as a survivor of child abuse and fellow PTSD~er.

Check her blog out HERE: Talking is Healing