Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Friday, June 14, 2013
Saturday, June 08, 2013
I wonder if you know.
Do you know who he is? What he is? This person that you're apparently engaged to … Do you know what kind of person he is? Deep down inside? Do you know what he's done?
Do you know that almost one year ago, he held me down and raped me, so brutally that I bled? That when I told him he had made me bleed, he simply laughed … Do you know that?
I wonder what he's told you. Has he told you that it was consensual? Maybe he told you that I wanted it, that I changed my mind afterwards?
Maybe he's told you it was nothing.
It wasn't "nothing". It wasn't consensual. I was begging him to stop. I cried and I begged, while it felt like he was ripping me apart.
I wonder if he's told you that I'm just trying to ruin his life. That I'm just trying to cause trouble.
I'm not. I could care less about him. I just want him to pay for what he did.
Because he knows. Deep down, whether he admits it or not, he knows what he did. He won't tell you that he raped me … But that's what happened. And he knows it. And so do I.
I wonder if you know.
I wonder if you'll find out the hard way what kind of person he is.
Tuesday, June 04, 2013
Monday, June 03, 2013
Sunday, June 02, 2013
Less than four weeks later, my entire life was turned upside down and every single part of my life was changed after I was raped.
So many times over the last eleven and a half months, I've fought to keep going. I had days where all I wanted to do was walk out in front of traffic. Days where taking it day by day was too much, I had to take it hour by hour, sometimes even 10 minutes at a time. Days where I felt so broken, so raw, so depserately disconnected from the world.
Days where I doubted I'd ever be anything close to the person I used to be.
it was the most horrific year of my life. That night ... I thought he was going to kill me. That night was hell on earth, and I lived through it.
I lived through it. That thought has kept me going, even in my darkest moments. The hardest part is over. I lived through the horror of what he did to me. I lived through it, even though he tried his hardest to break me. To intimidate me.
I know I will never be the person I was before the rape again. That girl, she is gone forever. He has changed and impacted every single part of my life.
But I am stronger. I am stronger now than I've ever been. I might falter some days. I might fall apart sometimes. But, inside me, I am stronger. I really do believe that I'm coming out the other side. I'm walking back into life. I'm making plans again. I hope to have uni finished by the end of this year, ready to do teaching at La Trobe next year. My plans took a detour, but I'm getting there.
Happy birthday to me. Watch me rock 30. This will be my year. And no rapist, no bastard coward will get in my way. Happy birthday indeed.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
(I know, I know, Megs. I'm sorry)
I've been thinking about doing a post all week ... But we're heading to exams (next week) so stress levels are high.
Maybe later this week :)
P.s. I just have one thing to say about the teenage girl who racially abused Adam Goodes last night - disgraceful. Should be ashamed of herself. I'm glad they booted her out of the stadium. We need to stand up to racism.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
This time, while I could theoretically use a thousand words to describe the emotions of my recent experiences, it would still not really tell anyone what has happened, how I've reacted, or what I've felt. Emotions are raw. So much rawer than words can ever be. Not everything in life can be described, despite the fact that everything you experience in life can be described by the emotions you were feeling at that time.
Rape is such a simple word, but loaded with meaning. To those who have experienced this violent act,it can be a struggle to say this little word, especially when trying to describe what has happened. Personally, it was not a word that I could say, write, look at or even think in those first few weeks. To have another reminder, to have to use the word when talking about myself, was too painful, far too painful.
I have been called strong, I have been called courageous, I have been called brave, I have been called amazing, I have been called "warrior woman", I have been called a voice for other women, just because I decided to report what happened to me. While it was not an easy decision, while it was the most difficult thing I have done in my life, the truth is that I am not brave. I am not strong. I am not courageous. I am scared. I am weak. I am nothing but my worst moments, I am only really as strong as I am on my weakest days. I have times when I feel like I am strong, I am capable, I can take whatever is thrown at me ... But until I can say that the good moments outweigh the bad, then I am not strong. I am not okay.
While the reaction that I have had to reporting my rape to the police has been positive - by the few people in my life that know, anyway - I cannot help that feel so unbearably sad that it's notable and unusual that I have reported it. All the statistics say that rape is one of the most under reported crimes in the world. Estimates vary, but anywhere from 50 - 90% (or more) of rapes and sexual assaults are never reported. One book I read recently said that in Australia, it's estimated that only ONE percent of rapes are reported. One percent! One in every one hundred people who are raped report it. One percent. How did it get to this? Why do victims feel as though they cannot or should not report it? What stops those other 99 people from reporting the horrific act committed against them?
As a victim, I can think of several reasons off the top of my head without even trying – fear – fear of judgement, fear of the offender, fear of consequences following the reporting, fear that grips you so hard it feels like you can’t breathe. Fear of humiliation. Feelings of shame, embarrassment, anger, sadness, anxiety. Being unable to handle going through what happened, step by step, minute detail by minute detail.
Every victim has a different story. Every victim has a different experience. Every victim has a different reaction. Every victim has a different ending to their story. Something in our justice system needs desperately to change so that reporting a rape is not seen as brave, or unusual. It needs to be seen as the norm. As something that's expected. Something in our justice system needs to change so that every victim gets justice through the criminal system. Victims need more support, easier access to better services and help to get their lives back in order. Every victim deserves a happy ending to their story. Every victim deserves to find the happiness that they lost when they were raped.
Saturday, December 01, 2012
― Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes
― Sarah Dessen, Just Listen
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
Monday, November 05, 2012
So, I cried. And then I mourned. And mourned some more.
Until, finally, last week, I purchased a new camera. It's not waterproof, but it is So. Damn. Cool.
I''ve been playing around with it for the last week since I purchased it ... So, here are some photos!
Sunday, October 14, 2012
I'm terrified, so terrified, but I have never felt stronger.
Maybe it won't go anywhere, maybe nothing will come from it, maybe it'll just cause more hurt for no gain ... But I have to take the risk. I want him to be held accountable for what he did to me.
I am terrified. But I know I can do this.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Tuesday, July 03, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
- I should have stopped him.
- I couldn't stop him.
- I fought as hard as I could.
- I didn't fight hard enough.
- I should have screamed louder.
- I screamed, I begged, I pleaded and it did nothing.
- What is wrong with him?
- What is wrong with me?
- How do I leave this behind me? How do I move on?
- I can't forget this. I can't move on. How can I move past it?
- I don't want to tell anyone.
- I can never tell anyone.
- I have to tell someone what he did to me.
- He's a sick fuck.
- I hate him.
- How did I get it so wrong?
- I thought I knew him.
- What happens if I see him again?
- It hurt so, so badly.
- It still hurts.
- I am sad.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
By someone I know. Someone I know hurt me, and scared me, and has changed me forever.
I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to cope with this.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Dear H***** H****,
But I've got good reason to think that you're the person who stole from my car one night as I slept.
Unluckily for you, you got caught in the same area that I live, stealing from cars, and leaving them the way that mine was left after the theft. Maybe it's a coincidence, but somehow I don't think so.
You probably don't care to know, or even think about, how devastating the theft was to me. As a uni student, to have a bag stolen from me which contained my uni diary, some assignments and paperwork, a USB with all my uni work on it, my new prescription glasses that I'd just paid $150 dollars for, and used my health insurance allowance for the year on … I can't even tell you how upsetting it was. All that stuff is useless to anyone else. There's nothing of value that you could sell. But it was so distressing to me. Knowing that I'd have to somehow find the money to replace my glasses, paying the full $300 out of pocket as I'd already used my health insurance excess – was incredibly upsetting.
I work my arse off to pay my own way in this world. I work full time and study 30+ hours a week. I get no government assistance. I usually manage to just make ends meet, and extras or luxuries aren't really an option for me. If something unexpected pops up, then I have to put in hours of overtime and hope that I can stretch the budget to make it work. Financially, it's always a struggle and although things are never easy for me, and I don't get many treats, it doesn't really bother me. I just make do.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
I have only slipped into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household world that it always was,
Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It it the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near,
Just around the corner.
All is well. ”
Saturday, June 16, 2012
I have two assignments due on Friday, and I haven't started either of them. I'm hoping to get one of them knocked over tonight, but I don't know if that's really possible.
I've managed to put my neck out, so I've got a headache all day every day (I think it's the same one, I've named it Jim. Jim never leaves), and all I want to do is sleep. Awesome timing!
Anyway ... I should probably go and do something. Anything. Anything at all ...