The Teal Lotus Project.

Change is Good.

2011-03-15T18:41:00.000-05:00

Hello my dear Friends.

I want to tell you about some exciting news regarding my NEW website design and the useful tools that incorporate YOU. Also, if you haven’t noticed, the new web address is www.theteallotusproject.com.
Let’s go from left to right on the menu bar.

The Home page is a brief description of the project. On the right side bar, you can enter your email address for The Teal Lotus Project subscription. You can scroll down and also see that you can become a fan on my facebook Teal Lotus page and you can see portions of the most recent TLP blog posts.
The next page is My Story, which tells about my experience in college and how I have overcome it. It may be triggering.

The Contact page is where you can submit questions, comments and/or inquiries, requests about speaking engagements directly to me.

Resources is a page of my favorite sites. A few of them I have found recently and a few have helped me tremendously in my healing process from the very beginning.

Next in line is the Blog page, where you are now.

Now for the exciting page, Register, is where you can register to The Teal Lotus Project and then have rights to tell your personal story through the community page [Which will post on the Survivor Stories page] or communicate in The Teal Lotus Forum, which is a message board designed to help survivors communicate in the recovery of rape, sexual abuse, sexual assault, incest and domestic violence.
[Tips for Forum]

Your nickname that you choose will be what is published when you post, so keep that in mind if you want to be anonymous.
Please don’t use this forum as a substitute for prefessional therapy and/or health care professionals.
This is a space for Survivors and Secondary Survivors to come and support each other.

The Events page will have all the upcoming events scheduled for the month. There are links to help you learn more about each event on this page.

Survivor Stories, is the page where after you register and make a post of your personal story, it will be located on this page after my approval.

Last, the Shop. I’m hoping to bring a Spring line of hats and possible new t-shirt designs online soon. I want to incorporate the online world to the TLP gear, this process is new to me, so bare with me. I’m in high hopes that this will be a successful process of distributing TLP gear.
This is the new site in a nutshell. Now become a part of The Teal Lotus community and register now!

T.

Internet to Air Waves.

2011-03-04T17:24:00.002-06:00

I had an unique opportunity recently as a blogger and was interviewed a week ago by Dave Schroeder at The River/ 93.1. At first I wasn’t nervous, but once I set foot in the studio, I realized- I’ve never done this before! My nerves calmed as Dave started asking questions and he himself wasn’t offended with the topic at hand, sexual assault.

It was a nice interview and I’m fortunate that Dave and KRVN were willing to talk about this subject and air it. It’s extremely important to me, and my fellow Survivors in this community (and the nation), to bring this to light and not shun away and tuck it into an area that we don’t want to touch. Whether we like it or not, we need to talk about it and more importantly, we need to educate our society and spread awareness.

Stories from the interview were aired on The River today, but if you missed them, I’ll attach them at the end of this post. Also, Dave has compiled those stories into an article on the KRVN page, you can find it here.

Mr. Schroeder has his own blog on the KRVN website, that he said he may upload the rest of the interview. If so, I’ll update you of this.

I want to say a special Thank You to Dave Schroeder for being a stand up man and taking this subject head on, I applaud you.

I bid you adieu.

2011-02-24T17:19:00.000-06:00

Hearing the words, “I don’t think you need me anymore.”, can either be heartbreaking or encouraging, depending on who says it. This sentence brought joy to me today, being that my therapist said these words.

I’ve been digging deep with her help, and of course God’s hand in as well, and I truly feel that I am becoming that person I want to be. A confident, happy, strong and empowered woman with no guilt or shame, and feels beautiful & sexy in my own skin—it’s been a long, long while since I’ve felt this way, if ever on most. A calm has come over me, I don’t worry over things like I used to, it’s liberating. I’m at peace with who I am, who I’ve become and with what was done, just that- it’s done. I’ve forgiven my perpetrators a while back and felt a burden lift off my shoulders, but I forgot the most important person, me. I didn’t forgive myself just yet. I still felt the pain and felt it was my fault. I was upset that I didn’t do more, turn it in, when there was evidence. This is what I needed to forgive of myself. I’ve finally let that go, that bird has flown. What a beautiful feeling, I hope you all experience it if you haven’t already.

I feel so blessed to be in this moment that I am, it’s serene. I’ve done some hard work and am reaping the rewards. I don’t have anything hanging over my head, holding me back. No one has a hold on me, I’m not letting that continue like I have, I cut that loose. I’m not holding on to it like a crutch for the reason I do this or that. I quit college; it was an effect of the rape. Of course, I didn’t want to see him in class or on campus. Scared of what might happen if we cross paths again. But when it comes down to it, I quit college. I couldn't continue to blame him for a decision I made, just like I can't blame myself for a decision he made.

I am aware that I still have work to do, but so does everyone. Life is a journey and on that journey we build, learn and grow; we never stop. I’m not stopping, just turning on a new path with my therapist staying on the old. I look forward to this new path, the twists, turns maybe even a dead-end before I need to turn on yet another path. I’ll keep on in this journey.

I was told in the beginning of this last path, “It’ll get better”, without ever knowing when or how. I’m glad I held on to those words, feverishly anticipating feeling it…and I’m there. Thank God, I’m there!

Don't be a bystander, it's a ripple effect.

2011-02-18T09:49:00.001-06:00

The other day I made a visit to the University of Nebraska at Kearney to finalize my meet and greets with my advisors and professors before the summer session begins. I’m a preparer. By doing this I found out I can minor in Art, it was a dreamy day after this news, I was so elated. But I digress.

I must have been in such a dreamy state that when I was scouring through folders and my pile of papers forging a mountain on my passenger side seat, I forgot what I was looking for, so I just stuffed them in my purse and clicked the lock button on my door. Did one of those side bumps to shut the door since my hands were full, then noticed through the window, my keys lying on the passenger seat. Ugh, I deflated.

So a short call to my mom & dad to figure out what service to go through and the cheapest option, I called and waited.

Now the process of waiting is what got to me. Not the wait itself, but having the chance to sit and watch faculty and students walk through campus. I witnessed a young lady trip and drop her books and papers scattered from across the way. It was windy, so not an easy feat to retrieve the papers that instantly turned into a bird form. I got up from where I was sitting to go and see if she needed help. As I was walking, three other students walked by and didn’t even offer help. One girl was giggling, another was busy staring at the ground to notice and a young man glanced, but continued to walk away. We retrieved all but one paper that was caught for us by a nearby trash can, pinned to its side by the breeze.

After this incident, I still had time to sit and wait for the service to show up and unlock my car for me. So my mind began to wonder. Why didn’t those people stop? Then I wondered if the situation were something a bit more dramatic or even dangerous, if then would they step in or if it would deter them more? I was sitting on a bench and no one even noticed I was there when they walked by, if I needed help or was in danger, would someone come to my aid? May seem a little farfetched, but it happens. Someone is in danger, in public, during the day and still, NO ONE comes to their aid. Why? Because we need to fend for ourselves? We don’t want to put ourselves in potential danger? It’s none of our business? Someone else will help, I don’t need to? All excuses! It made my stomach turn thinking of the Kitty Genovese Case in New York, 1964. Whether we want to think so or not, we’re here for each other and we need to take care of each other. If I know you or not is irrelevant, you are a human and I will help you or protect you if I have the ability. Period. Why is this a hard concept to grasp?

God has granted us with the ability to have compassion and helping hands & hearts, but we also grasped the selfish characteristic along the way. I call it the ‘What’s in it for Me’ syndrome. I confronted someone back when I was in my first round of college to ask them why they didn’t step in in a situation because I was frustrated. They said simply, “Because I don’t know that chic.”. Sad. Didn’t know we had to have a personal connection or relationship as a prerequisite to helping someone in need. So I had to ask, “So, if it was your sister, you would have done something?”. His reply, “H*** yes!”. So then I followed up with; “Well that’s someone’s sister. Don’t you think it’s your responsibility to be a brotherly figure to her and help like you would want someone to do for your sister if you weren’t present to help her in a situation?”. He sat there silent and wide eyed, his head dropped in disappointment. Next time, he’ll do the right thing.

I want to challenge you, the reader, today. It’s up to you to decide how long you want to keep the challenge going; I personally take it every day. Here it is:

Don’t be a bystander or what I like to call an ‘excuse giver’ for your lack of help. Of course your time is precious & valuable to you and stopping to help someone with a flat tire, pick up items that they dropped, or even with a domestic violence dispute, would be worth it, even if you are a little late for that meeting/appointment/work. To them, it would ignite the fire for humanity that they just may have given up on because everyone claims to be ‘in it for me’. Show love and compassion to a stranger by giving a smile, a helping hand or even a hug. Yes, I said hug. I’ve hugged a complete stranger who was sitting alone crying, it started a beautiful conversation. You may just learn from this challenge, about others and yourself. Be careful, it may change you. The most important part about this challenge is this, DON’T expect anything in return. Don’t do something nice for someone to only expect payment or gifts in return; if this is your mindset, you are not ready for this challenge. You would be missing the point.

Here’s an example: (I realize not all my readers go to church, but just bare with me for exemplary reasons)

If you are at church and the offering plate comes by you, you have an option of dropping in the money anonymously, or putting it in an envelope. You may drop in a dollar or two most of the time, but when you decide to drop in a twenty dollar bill, fifty or higher- do you find yourself wanting to write a check to display the name of the giver, you? Or put it in an envelope with a note, just so they know who it came from? This to me, is missing the point. You are expecting favors even if you don’t know it. Not by gifts or money in return, but by favor in the way your church looks at you. Are you following me? Give gifts anonymously and watch from the sidelines as you see them receive it with big smiles, even bigger because they don’t know who it’s from, but it strengthens their faith in God to know there are people on earth that care. This is amazing, I promise you.

Now get started!

The Beauty from Magazine Pages.

2011-02-16T08:01:00.001-06:00

I had a personal assignment, well, from my Therapist- to flip through random magazines and clip out the images that I felt represent beauty. At first, all I could think is “This is going to be depressing”, as all the models are perfect. I didn’t really see how this assignment could help my self esteem.

I received magazines yesterday from my Therapist and dove in. Flipping, flipping, flipping to see more and more beautiful models. But then it dawned on me, they’re not natural, they’re airbrushed. That’s not beauty. As I kept thumbing through the magazines I found my eye being captured by natural beauty, I was drawn to it. Nature is so pure, natural by God. I wasn’t even looking at models anymore, but I was pulled to the art and abstracts of the pages instead. My creative mind began to awake and I got excited as ideas flooded my mind.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and started from the beginning, with a different perspective. And wouldn’t you know, images started jumping from the pages and it fell together seamlessly. The images chose me, but they also meant something to me, it wasn’t random.

The first picture I chose for my collage was none other than Jesus. You may be wondering what kind of magazine I thumbed through to find Him. Haha. Well, the very first I picked up, a travel magazine. The statue of Jesus in Rio De Janeiro, Brazil. Fitting for how I perceive beauty.

Flowers, birds, trees and a caribou (Yes, a caribou. As in- Reindeer), were a great addition to the ‘natural beauty’. Buttons to me represent creativity, which is also a beauty in characteristic.

An image of an inviting empty chair with a pillow and blanket waiting for me to cuddle and relax, I added a candle to overlay this picture- tranquility.

Next, I found books. Knowledge is power that adds confidence. I love to read and confidence is an aspect of beauty. it had to be added.

You may think this is odd, but for an image, nothing says family more than a big dining room table waiting for loved ones to gather around to unite, share and connect with each other.

This next image struck me, I almost wisped past it not noticing, but took a second glance. A mother standing in a spiral, of her sons laundry and her son running to her. The artist of the photo explained that ‘the spiral represents the repetitive, seemingly endless tasks that come with domestic life and motherhood but is also a reinterpretation of Robert Smithson’s iconic Spiral Jetty [1970]’. This photograph to me, represents a mother being in the middle of a daily task, but can drop it all to play and show affection to her children.

Lastly, musical notes. Music can bring all walks of life, people or furry friends, together; you don’t have to know the language sung in order to enjoy music. You can feel this kind of beauty in your heart; this was a perfect image to end my collage. Like a symphony, it pulls everything together, a work of art. Speaking of art, an art frame seemed to be a nice touch for Jesus, because He Himself is beauty and I wanted the eye to be pulled to Him no matter where you looked.

So yes, at first this assignment seemed to confuse me and had me worried that I would get down. But it did lift my spirits, beauty is not about your physical appearance, it truly is about your heart. I’m so glad I got refocused and redirected.

This to me is natural beauty, the true beauty. How do you perceive beauty?

Pushing through.

2011-02-11T15:10:00.001-06:00

“One step forward, two steps back.”. We’ve all heard this idiom. Does it hold true? – For me, to an extent. I seem to push through one step of my recovery to be pulled back. Once I feel I peeled a layer off by success, it reveals a multitude more that I need to tend to. It’s a process, and I’m not giving up.

Currently, I’m battling my body image (BDD). You may be wondering, ‘I thought she got past that’. Truth is, I pushed it to the side to deal with the bigger issues at hand. Now it seems it became one of the bigger issues since it was left to stew.

I’ve been on a new medication to help me with my anxiety, it’s helped some. The problem that I see with it though is that it’s strengthened my appetite. This in turn, has heightened my anxiety about my body image. I have gained four pounds since I’ve started taking it two months ago, which to most is no big deal at all, but I can’t seem to kick it. I beat myself up over those 4 pounds like you wouldn’t believe. I still fit in the small frame graph if you look up my height vs. weight, but I can’t see that and it shouldn’t matter honestly. Who cares what category I fit into, right? This could be confused with someone being vain, which would be incorrect. It runs much deeper than vanity; it hits the core of my soul. I’m in the running to be perfect, because I was told perfection was the only option.

This is where I’m going to let you into my deep, deep thoughts. This is how I rationalize my situation. I’ve been used in the worst kind of way, physically & mentally, in my past. Then ‘thrown away’, not needed or not good enough (my perception). Since my abuse I've always wondered what was wrong with me. I’ve strived to be better, which is a good quality, but I take it to the not healthy level. My past has warped me into thinking my outside self or body vs. my soul and character, make me who I am. Which I know is wrong, but it’s trickier than that. I view my body as dirty and ugly, still. I try to make myself perfect on the outside, which I know is impossible, to make myself feel worthy. So when I gain 4 pounds (or even 1 pound), I feel like I lose control of my worthiness. I’m not good enough anymore. When this happens I get anxiety that my husband will leave me because I may not be beautiful enough for him anymore, even though I know the truth that he’ll never leave my side. It’s sad really, a sickness. These are the walls I live in with my disorder, but this is only one room in a mansion.

I’m getting better, gradually, day by day. This is why you haven't heard from me in almost two weeks, I've been taking care of myself. I’m learning to rotate my focus instead of centering it on one thing, this way every layer gets the attention & care it needs so I can continue to heal. My self worth is not based on my appearance, like I was told those many years ago. I am grounded in the now, present. I don’t want to miss my boys’ childhood by obsessing over untouchable perfection. I’m better than that and they deserve better than that.

I am shaping their minds right now. I can give a gift or a curse. These boys look up to me, their Mama. I want them to respect themselves and be happy and comfortable in their skin, but I need to demonstrate it for them. They also need me as a strong woman in their life and to teach them that women have worth other than what the eye sees. I want them to see the beauty within and it starts yesterday.

1 Peter 3:3-4

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.

My little men; who see my inner beauty, strength and their kind of perfect.

Unheard Sirens, Invisible Signs.

2011-01-29T00:03:00.000-06:00

As a little girl I was withdrawn and to myself. I played alone most of the time with my dog, Jasmine, right by my side or tried to latch on to my older brother for comfort. I didn’t like to take baths; I would bathe in my swimsuit as often as possible. Which was put off to silly kid behavior, but really, I was ‘hiding’. I would often wear this swimsuit to bed and under my regular clothing, for protection. I was fearful of everything, knowing there indeed was bad in the world. If I was asked to spend the night at a friend’s house, I would plead with them to stay with me at mine, since I knew it was a safe place.

When I was around 6, my sweet uncle who teased at taking me home with him, triggered an alarm and I called 911 immediately. A desperate call for help, but not from my uncle, from my real perpetrator. Around the same time, I ‘ran away’ from home and sat at the end of our ½ mile drive way with my dog for a few hours before coming back. Another attempt, but not all that uncommon of a kid to do, so it was set aside as a funny story to be told when I became an adult.

I was held back in Kindergarten and given a special resource teacher to help me with my speech and comprehension. I’m sure I was perfectly capable of learning, but I was overwhelmed with what was going on in my life.

The person who caused this pain and turmoil, passed when I was two months shy of my eleventh birthday. But the damage was done. I haven’t even reached my teenage years and I lost my youth. I didn’t have a chance to live my ‘girl’ years, as in this same year I became a ‘lady’. By the grace of God, my puberty began after this man’s death.

I was rushed into adulthood physically, but mentally, I stayed a frightened child. I wet the bed till I was twelve. I would strangely be ill around summer vacation and certainly around the Holiday Season, when I had to visit my biological father and this man would be around. Even after he was gone, I still was fearful. The place brought back memories, nightmares.

I struggled with depression throughout the rest of my adolescence, but this was chalked up to the divorce of my mother and biological father when I was two years old. It wasn’t the divorce, it was the mandatory visits despite my wishes, where my perpetrator was nearby.

Into my High School years I had unexplainable stomach pains that would send me to the doctor. One morning at 1am, my mom drove me to the hospital because the pain became worse, the tests came up inconclusive. Later leading to my appendicitis and then into my adult life, Fibromyalgia. My insides literally hurt, just as I would explain my heart breaking. Funny how if you can’t verbally express your hurt, your body takes it to a deeper level. By finally releasing my pain verbally, speaking it- my body has now begun to heal along with my heart.

How was anyone to know my horror story? There may have been signs, but they also could be explained by other outside circumstances. I think this is the type of situation that arises more questions than answers.

Educate your children on their self worth and rights, don’t assume they know. Be sure to let them know you trust them (believe them) and love them. But even then, if they have a secret to tell, they may be too scared to let it out.

All I know is --If dogs could talk, my Miss Jasmine would have let out my secret those many years ago.

My Attic.

2011-01-21T15:03:00.000-06:00

My childhood memories are clouded with horrific memories that I tried to block out. The brain, my brain, is very powerful and also with God’s protection, I was able to push these memories into a deserted room and lock the door till I was strong enough to handle it. I went through life not thinking of my childhood, as if trying to delete it.

Recently, I’ve opened the door, facing that abandoned room. This room is a dirty attic, dust & spider webs cover every inch. There’s a burnout light bulb hanging from the center of an unfinished ceiling, dangling from a wire. Defiled boxes, stacked upon boxes, stuffed with horrid, unimaginable memories that are still waiting to be released from my body and let God take them. The ones that I have forfeited are hanging on the walls in delicate frames, but the images in them aren’t of delicate nature.

There’s a single Cathedral window that envelops the wall from across the way of the entrance. It lets in light, but only through the color of the stain glass, making shadows dance in the room and surround me.

As I walk in on the old unpolished wood floors, they creak as if to warn me of the evil lurking in the air. To the left I see the door. The small door leading into the wall, with no other escape but from the way I enter. This door is boarded shut; I must become stronger than I am now to pry it open. This memory will take more effort than the ones in the boxes.

I am now able to sit in my abandoned (now un-abandoned) room without fear, calmly taking my time unpacking those boxes with the light of my candle. My candle grows stronger and brighter with each release of the evil done to me. I am not afraid anymore.

The boxes are diminishing one by one and instead of this dim attic that seemed sinister at first, now has become my beautiful sanctuary. I’m not throwing away what’s in these boxes; I’m bringing beauty from the brokenness. They’ve made me stronger. Even though in the beginning, they are what made me hate myself…in the end, they are what helped me to love myself.

I am getting closer to that boarded door. When the time comes, Jesus will hold my hand. He’ll be smiling at me as we walk through together.

Chasing Contentment.

2011-01-20T13:33:00.000-06:00

As I look out the window and see the beautiful snow covered trees and a blanket of white fluff as far as I can see. What a beautiful sight God has created for us. Did any of you catch the moon floating in the sky this morning? This was a breath taking portrait captured in time…

As I take in these gifts that God has given us, I realize most don’t see what I see. Lately I’ve been hearing complaints about the weather without having any regard of the gift given, the beauty God has bestowed.

I recall Luci Swindoll, a speaker at the Women of Faith event I attended last August, speaking of a poem she read. This poem was written by a 14 year old boy. This poem is called Chasing Contentment.

It was spring but it was summer I wanted; the warm days and the great outdoors.
It was summer but it was fall I wanted; the colorful leaves and the cool dry air.
It was fall but it was winter I wanted; the beautiful snow and the joy of the holiday season.
It was now winter but it was spring I wanted; the warmth and the blossoming of nature.
I was a child but it was adulthood I wanted; the freedom and the respect.
I was twenty but it was thirty I wanted; to be mature and sophisticated.
I was middle-aged but it was twenty I wanted; the youth and the free spirit.
I was retired but it was middle-age that I wanted; the presence of mind without limitations.
My life was over but I never got what I wanted.

I think of this poem often, when I start to find myself being selfish and wanting something else given to me in life and when I really need to make the best of what I have, before life passes me by.

Be thankful. Be blessed.

-T

Homework Assignment.

2011-01-18T07:56:00.000-06:00

So since I’m back in College and have assignments again, I figured I’d give my readers (Parents, or anyone having a relationship with a child. Even a Youth Pastor or Girl/Boy Scout leader) an assignment as well. Don’t stop reading here! - haha-

Okay, I’m adopting this homework assignment from Erin Merryn’s blog: http://erinmerryn.hcibooks.com/2010/09/08/homework-assignment-parents/

After you finish dinner and your children’s homework is done it is time for you to start your homework assignment. Turn off the television your favorite show is going to have to wait (record it), turn off the video games, and sit your kids down at a table.

What will you need for this homework assignment

1) Paper

2) Something to write with

Now the homework assignment begins

Ask your kids to write down all the people they feel they can trust. Give suggestions to your children.

(mom, dad, sibling, relative, teacher, coach, pastor, babysitter, family friend, etc.)

Actually have them write out the names of these people. Explain to your children the names you put down are people you feel you are safe with.

Okay once we have established a list with the kids the conversation begins.

Kids in school you do tornado drills, fire drills, bus drills, you will learn to say NO to Drugs in 6th grade, you also learn not to talk to strangers because they can be dangerous.

Well tonight we are going to talk about something you don’t learn in school. While you should not talk to strangers sometimes people we know that are not strangers can hurt us. This conversation is not to scare you but to keep you safe.

Ask your kids to define what a safe touch is?

(you might get some interesting responses)

Write down a list with your kids that you feel are safe touches.

Now ask your kids what are unsafe touches?

(you might get surprised by what they might say)

Give your kids a visual: The place your bathing suit covers are private places that nobody should look at or touch. Go into detail about their private places and explain how somebody touching them there is not a safe touch and if someone tries to touch them that way try to get away and tell another adult (on their list of safe people) right away. The same way we would tell you to kick and scream if a stranger tried grabbing you do the same if someone tries touching you.

Ask your kids to define what a secret is?

After they answer give them an example of a safe secret “Grandma’s Surprise 60th birthday, your brothers birthday gift, etc.”

Ask your kids to define what is an unsafe secret?

(This is where you might get some interesting answers)

Explain to your children how someone who might try to touch you inappropriately will try to make you keep a secret about it. This is an unsafe secret. Explain that the person might try to use threats to keep you silent by saying they will hurt you if you tell anyone, that nobody will believe you. This is your chance to DRILL into your kids heads that somebody will believe them and that they have to tell if anyone ever tries anything that makes them feel uncomfortable and unsafe. Go back to that list of people they created that are safe they could talk to.

Give your kids examples of other ways they would tell you something. If they fell and scrapped their knee, if their brother or sister was not sharing, or pushed them, or took their toy etc. Parents you know exactly what I am talking about you have all been there. Kids are always telling you something. However once a predator gets your kids and takes their voice it might be months, years, even decades before they tell you anything all because nobody ever had this conversation.

Tell your children they can always come to you with anything but that if they do not feel comfortable telling you something who else can they tell. Don’t take offense of this. Kids often want to protect their parents or a predator might tell kids they will hurt mommy or daddy. So a child might be afraid to tell mommy thinking she might get hurt and maybe the teacher or babysitter is the next person they feel safest sharing something with.

Create a list with your kids on 8 ways they could get away and tell today. I have 8 ways I could share with you but I want you to talk to your kids first.

When you are all done find a place in your children’s room they can keep their list of safe people they trust.

Instill in your kids heads about not keeping secrets of any type of abuse including someone that could be bullying them at school.

To end the assignment challenge your kids with this question

What if one of your friends came up to you tomorrow and told you someone was touching them in their private places but they have to keep it a secret. What would you do?

Now that you have just educated them on not keeping secrets like this they will give you the correct response and tell an adult immediately.

By having this conversation with your children you are not only giving your children an extra layer of protection you could be giving them a voice for their friends as well.

All it takes is one incident for a child to lose their trust and have their voice silenced. Don’t let your child or children be next.

Now go get started on your homework assignment and come back and tell me how it goes.

I have a lot more to say but going to start off light on talking about this with kids. Don’t want to overwhelm parents but also want to protect your kids. Don’t deny them the knowledge they deserve.

Remember this you cannot always be there to watch your children 24/7.

Empower them and their voice!

I encourage you to do this assignment and also go to Erin’s website, www.erinmerryn.net , and look at her law, Erin’s Law. I feel strongly about getting this Law passed in Nebraska, along with the rest of the United States. Our children, yes ‘our’- all children are our responsibility, need us to step up and give them the tools they need to have a voice. I won’t let them down!

{Thanks Erin, for stepping up to the plate and passing such an important law in your state.}

-T

Inspiration.

2011-01-06T21:05:00.000-06:00

So if you don’t know me, I love art- all forms. I received some beautiful artwork at Christmas and finished my display on our living room wall and wanted to share because I’m so proud of it!

The artwork framed on the left is by Gorjuss and it’s called ‘Want to be Free like a Bird’. The little girl in the print reminds me so much of myself as a little girl, blank in expression and dreamer of good things to come.

The other six art prints are by Kelly Rae Roberts, a beautiful artist who used to be a social worker. Her art speaks to me on a personal level as well as Gorjuss’.

The bottle has private messages I wrote to my perpetrators, my personal ‘message in a bottle’ of empowerment.

Below the bottle is a lotus candle holder from a dear friend. If you don’t know by now why I love lotus flowers it’s because of how they develop through ‘life’. They start deep in mud in a pond, the deeper, the more beautiful they bloom. They rise to the surface of the pond to see the light of the sun and bloom beautifully, like birds would spread their wings to fly.

Below the lotus are stars, to remind me of the beauty at night fall instead of nightmares.

Daisies are my favorite flower, besides the lotus. I’ve always loved this flower, how they can grow wild and be a strong flower that continues to bloom each year despite lack of care.

To the right is my ‘Snow White’ mirror, to remind me of my beauty even when I don’t see it.

And flying above all are my freedom birds.

The only piece missing is my beloved dolphins; I’ll continue to look for the perfect art piece to finish off my beautiful collage.

Just wanted to share- It makes me smile, I hope it brings one to you. ♥

God's Grace & Zeus

2011-01-04T16:45:00.000-06:00

I wrote not too long ago about my anxiety over a flight I’d be on at the end of December or the pre-flight routine rather. Most would joke about getting touched by TSA, not knowing that the mention of it made me literally vomit in my mouth. Not only am I a sexual assault (rape, to be more clear) survivor, I am also a sexual abuse survivor from my childhood (if you haven't already gathered that from my 'Dear Little Girl Within' poem). Just one of these tragedies could send someone into a spiral or anxiety attack if touched inappropriately, but both…that’s another dimension. I have mastered looking calm on the outside, when I’m a wreck on the inside. I’ve lived most of my life hiding feelings I’m too afraid to let loose, mostly because I don’t want to explain.

In short, because it actually was an emotionally draining traveling experience- the airport was not an easy process as I was told it would be. My husband was selected for the scanner/pat down in the Denver airport and he was also patted down at the Cancun airport. Thank goodness he was chosen instead of me, he had no problems. I’m not so sure how I would have reacted, but thankfully we don’t have to find out. Thank you God for redirecting their focus on my stronger half and thank you to my husband for being there to be my decoy.

With that out of the way, our vacation was so amazing!! I feel so blessed and fortunate. Ever since I was a little girl birds & dolphins have always intrigued me. They’re both free to roam the world. One of the sky, the other of the water…I would have given anything to be free.

To swim with dolphins has been a childhood fantasy, but living in Nebraska, I always knew it was impossible. Then we were blessed with this vacation and what excursion just so happened to be available, swimming with dolphins! My heart sang! As I changed in the locker room at the Dolphinaris resort, I whispered to the little girl within; “Today’s the day.” Tears filled my eyes, I never thought this day would come. I didn’t even know how much it meant to me till I was in the moment and tears streamed my cheeks.

Zeus was our dolphins name, he was beautiful and gentle. The water was cold, the breeze made it colder. But I didn’t care. I was in a precious moment of time, and nothing could ruin it. I will cherish this day, I felt so free while with Zeus, just as I thought I would as a child.

For you, little girl within.

The Letter.

2010-12-23T08:50:00.001-06:00

I’m going to share a letter that my Therapist wrote to me recently, with her permission, but have stricken her name from it.

She shared with me the night she wrote it, the same night I wrote my ‘Dear Little Girl Within’ poem, that she felt compelled to sit down and write me a letter. I believe God was at work, once again.

“Dearest Little Tasia,

I wanted to tell you that you are very special. I just found out that some very terrible things have been happening to you, and I wanted you to know that the abuse is not your fault. You have done nothing to make this happen - the big people who are hurting you are responsible for their actions that cause you pain. I know if I would have been hurt like you are being hurt that I would feel very scared and confused.

You have the right to feel any feeling that you have and to express it! I am proud of how brave you are and how you were able to survive some pretty terrible experiences. That shows me how strong your soul and your spirit truly are! I want you to know that you are safe now. Big Tasia is in charge to taking care of your broken heart and in loving you back to safety. I am here to listen to your feelings and encourage you to choose to take these experiences that you have and use them for gaining strength and understanding about what strengths you already have. What someone else did to hurt you was not something you asked for, or deserved to have happen to you. Even though I cannot erase the pain that you are experiencing right now, I can offer you my support and love through this difficult time. You are safe now. No one will ever do this to you again. You are special and so strong. I am very proud of you being brave enough to share your experiences.

God is with you always- and although He didn’t allow this to happen, He will be an important part in helping you heal and grow through these experiences. I am here to help remind you of these things...

Your Therapist

Dearest Adult Tasia,

I am so, so sad that you are having to go through these vivid memories and experience all over again the fear, anger, anxiety, confusion, and sadness that you must have experienced as a young child. You are a very strong woman who has come through much adversity, and despite how much this part sucks, you will continue to get stronger and understand yourself more through this process. The most growth I have experienced in my life has occurred in times of adversity and pain- I no longer fear the pain because I know that I will make it through and gain so much in spite of it. I hope that you can also trust this process.

You now have the daunting task of loving the child who resides within you, just as you would your own boys who are flesh and blood to you. Because your mother wasn’t aware of what was happening to you, she was unable to support and love you through it. It is your responsibility to mother your heart with all the love and support that you would give your own children had they been hurt. I know that you are capable of this task and that you will do a beautiful job in this transition. I will share things with you along the way to help guide you through this mucky mess of memories and pain. You are not alone through this process and this intense pain will draw to a close as long as you bravely face it and choose not to retreat into denial or avoidance. God is there to heal your heart; I am here to listen and to support you. I trust that you have the spirit of a survivor and a thriver. I believe in you.

With Deep Sorrow in the present and Fierce Hope for you future...

Your Therapist”

My Year.

2010-12-20T06:43:00.001-06:00

Some of you may be wondering- ‘Why is she going through this now, so much later in life?’. Good question. I’ll let you know I’ve had my feelings & hurt tucked away for quite some time, and never imagined unpacking them, ever.

At the beginning of 2010, in January I was 5 months pregnant and just discovered that we were going to have a baby girl (so the doctor told us). That is the moment my world started to crumble. Before you jump ahead and think that I’m a sexist, that’s not it at all. I would love to be blessed with a little girl, maybe even have her mommy’s curls. The thing was, I was terrified of horrible things happening to her, the things that happened to me.

I truly believe we were pregnant with a baby girl in January of 2010, but God was observing very closely. He saw my heartache, the flashbacks flooding back and how my body trembled at the thought of someone doing this to my baby girl, the little girl in me. He knew my heart was too heavy and changed His mind, or did He? Because God knows what He’s doing at all times. So actually He put this in motion to force me to deal with my past and begin my healing path, because He knew I wasn’t going to do it on my own. I needed a nudge.

May 10, 2010 [one day before my birthday & two weeks before our due date] we were blessed with a healthy, beautiful baby boy. Our God is amazing by His power and blessings, I am thankful.

July 11, 2010 my husband and I were baptized together in Midway Lake. The place where we exchanged vows in the chapel on the hill overlooking the water and where we lived our first few months of marriage in his grandparents lake house.

July 23, 2010 was my first counseling session; my first step to reaching out. This was the first of four sessions. We dug deep, fast, as God was working in the same rhythm.

August 13, 2010 was my first attendance at a Women of Faith event. I felt this event was created for my healing, God had this set in my path long before it was even scheduled. The speakers spoke to my heart and I had a personal experience later that evening when the speaker who ‘spoke to me’ most, was just keying into her hotel room 3 doors down from mine. I told her that I felt God had us cross paths for a reason, she hugged me. This was the first day of my life where I ‘let it go’, my first layer before the deeper one.

God knew this step, even though it was hard for me, was the easiest in my path. I was in the eye of the storm, I had no idea.

I was released from counseling August 24, 2010. I had a powerful month of God’s work in my life and felt the storm cleared, even though, I knew there was another layer, I just didn’t want to touch it.

September 5, 2010 I told my family of my rape from college. I opened the door and used my voice. A couple days later, I let the world know by the start of this blog. I prayed hard before doing so, this is what He wanted, I wasn’t so sure if I did at that point. The very first day of me telling my story through my blog; I’ve received emails of others stories. It was a ripple effect and my healing spread to others healing, it was beautiful.

I kept busy the month of September, starting my new project and new open lifestyle. My anniversary of my college rape was approaching; it was a little easier knowing my family knew, just in case I wasn’t having the best of days.

October [my anniversary month], something started stirring in me, unresolved. God wasn’t finished just yet, even though I told Him to let it be. I felt better after getting that first layer off, but He knew to truly heal, I needed the next layer too.

November 16, 2010 my second series of sessions begun. Again- we dug deep, fast, as God was working in the same rhythm. This time it was deeper and more hurtful, as I’m still peeling these layers. But I’m finally being honest with myself, not retreating in denial. I’m facing my past, to defeat it.

I am still in sessions, but have hope & faith that I’ll leave everything on the table and not hold back this time. You can’t heal unless you admit you have something to heal from in the first place. Denial isn’t an option anymore.

I’m looking forward to 2011. So much can happen in one year, it’s unbelievable. I’m anxious to see what God has set in front of me, only time [His time], will tell.

Treat Yourself as you would want Others Treated

2010-12-15T12:11:00.001-06:00

As someone who deeply cares for others, I have to switch the Golden Rule, “Treat others as you would want to be treated” into “Treat yourself as you would want others treated”. I always seem to care more about others feelings than my own; this is one reason (only one) why I suffered in silence for so long.

I can fall back into that silence/guilt pretty quickly, when I discover the hurt that my loved ones feel from me coming forward, but I have to remind myself that I need to take care of myself. Most people don’t need to do this, actually quite the opposite. I’m not sure why I’m wired this way. I’ve always looked out for others, almost like a mother hen figure, making sure their needs are met. But along the way, I’ve focused so much on others; I never looked in the mirror. Almost like a decoy, so I didn’t need to go there.

I can’t always make everyone around me happy or even comfortable, and I shouldn’t have to. This is why I’ve become so transparent when I tell my story, I’m not telling it for anyone but myself. This is the way it should be. I’m tired of worrying over everyone’s feelings. Were my feelings in consideration at the time of these horrible ‘situations’? Absolutely not.

I need to start taking care of myself, and the little girl I once was, but never could fully be. I don’t expect anyone to understand, unless you’ve experienced this yourself.

I truly am sorry if this is uncomfortable or something anyone feels I should keep private, I’m not trying to be offensive or get ‘revenge’. This is my step to healing, and I’m taking it. I’ve been trapped for so long in a body that’s trying to explain that it’s been deeply hurt and gets physically ill each time it remembers or that time of year comes around. If this is what I can do to release that pain I’ve been holding, I must do it, for my health and sanity.

Being vocal has been my vessel, as the words come out of my mouth, it’s like they leave my body for good. It’s the evil that was done to me, its black mist, exiting. My lungs are fresh again, almost like I’ve never experienced this kind of breath. I can finally say that NOW I am on my path of healing, now that my whole story is coming to light.

My lotus was just in a little bit deeper mud, but it’s coming to the surface, and becoming quite exquisitely beautiful.

Dear Little Girl Within

2010-12-10T08:17:00.002-06:00

Dear little girl within,
I'm sorry you felt his sin.

You were so young & innocent.
It's not your fault, he didn't have consent.

You feared the dark, knowing monsters are real.
Your body remembers, even when you don't want to- still.

Dear little girl within,
I'm glad you were hidden, carefully stored away.
When as a woman, we were again betrayed.

I'm so sorry I let you down when I couldn't defend & protect.
I promise I'll make it up to you and gain your respect.

You're safe within me,
It's ok, don't hide.
I'm an adult now, here outside.

Dear little girl within,
It is time to join voices.
To put this to an end and make amends. ♥

an Insidious enemy. the Airport?

2010-12-01T23:02:00.000-06:00

I’ve heard the new TSA regulations for screenings and I must say, I am less than thrilled about it. I will be flying at the end of December and can’t help but get a little anxious about my pre-flight experience. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, let me update you.

The Transportation Security Administration (TSA) has implicated a new security scanner that takes full body images of the flier through their clothes and also a loss of security [in my opinion], the exact opposite of what it’s installed for. Security means to keep safe, protect, guard & defend; I would feel none of those if an image was taken of my ‘naked’ body. However, I would feel threatened, embarrassed, and forced into something I wouldn’t want to do- which reminds me of similar feelings from a particular event in my life. Some survivors have been assaulted further by unwanted nude photos of them being spread on the internet, so this would absolutely trigger their fears. These photos are supposedly deleted, but it’s out of our control and still seen by certain personal (and maybe others). That is enough to make me sick to my stomach.

You might say, ‘fine, opt out of the scan then.’. Okay, let’s see option two. If a flier opts out of going through the scan, you’ll be ‘patted down’. But this isn’t the usual pat down. TSA officials used to use the back of their hands to outline your body. Now, they use the front of their hands so they can grab you. If you are a woman, you’ll be certain to have your breasts groped, just to make sure you didn’t hide anything in your bra. Then, you’ll be stroked or touched on and around your labia and buttocks. As for men, you don’t have it easy either. You’ll be touched up your inner thigh till they feel ‘resistance’, which means they’ll grope your you know what. Of course, this isn't from my own experience, but from others.

Oh, and if you say you want to opt out of the ‘pat down’ as well, you’ll supposedly get slapped with a 10-11k fine and a civil suit. Basically, a form of blackmail. [Again, in my opinion.]

This process may not be a big deal to some of you, but it sure is to me. I have a problem with someone saying they have the right to touch me in places I don’t want them to, this would be a form of sexual assault if they weren’t wearing their TSA uniforms. Which to me, is a very scary message. How do you explain that to children? ‘Yes, sweetheart. You’re body belongs to you, but for the moment, this gentlemen has to touch you even though you don’t want him to.’ Um, no! I do believe there is an age where they start to do a ‘less invasive’ pat down for children, but it’s still invasive if they don’t want to be touched! I don’t want any children to get the message that they’re body belongs to them, unless a person in uniform requests to touch them, then they better oblige. [Thankfully, we're not flying with our children]

I am a little worried that if I get chosen to go through this scan or pat down, that I might have a break down and possibly be arrested. I will most likely cry, and if someone tries to forcefully touch me, I’m not really sure what my reaction would escalate to. Remember, I do have PTSD. Just thinking of this scenario has put in tears. I pray that God keeps me in His arms through the security process, and if I get chosen, that He gives me an extra boost of strength-I’ll need it!

I'm Thankful.

2010-11-24T23:36:00.000-06:00

I am thankful for God’s grace and His perfect love.

I am thankful that God didn’t give up on me when I grew angry at the mention of His name, for the things that I’ve been through and ~~saying~~ screaming, “How could there be a God when bad things happen?”. I am thankful for His forgiveness of me and the very forgiveness He blessed my heart on the people who’ve wronged me.

I am thankful that He sent Jamion into my life at the very moment I needed him. And then through him, began the work of God. My husband (then boyfriend) didn’t boast about his Christianity or push it on to me; God knew He had to be gentle with this particular daughter. So he chose my husband to be, the gentle man who was also a gentleman.

I am thankful that God has blessed my husband and I with two healthy boys who also happen to be beautiful. (Yes, I call my boys beautiful)

Our family and friends who have gathered around us like God’s hands would to gather His children for a group hug. I can feel the love. The support.

I am thankful for the person I’m becoming because of God’s focus on me and my purpose. He picked up my broken pieces and put me back together. Although, I’m like a cracked vase that reveals its lines and the seeping glue holding it together…I’m still together. Not perfect, but that’s even more beautiful.

I want to wish you and yours a Blessed Thanksgiving, and to be thankful for your blessings (even the small ones).

“Live in such a way that those who know you but don’t know God, will come to know God because they know you.”

Repaving my Path

2010-11-22T23:10:00.000-06:00

I thought I'd give the symptom series a rest for a minute and talk about something else.

So if y’all read my story, you know that I only completed 2 years of college. Nope, it wasn’t a two year college; it was a four year University. Oops, my bad.

So it got me thinking, that’s a part of my life that I could have finished, but chose not to because of that one night in the Fall of 2004. I am so glad I chose not to, hear me out; I’m not advocating quitting college. It just wasn’t the right timing for me, that’s all. I was tossing two majors back and forth; Art Education or Graphic Design. Obviously I still have a love for art; I had a blast designing my Project’s logo. But that’s not my true calling. After my journey and figuring out who I am as a person to who I want to become, I now know what I need to further my education in: Counseling.

I may have made some of you laugh out loud, since I’m currently IN counseling sessions. But I believe that’s the beauty of it; I’ve experienced it. The ups and downs, I’m not perfect. I truly believe I could be an amazing counselor, I have the heart. This is the first time I’ve felt so certain (other than the man I married) on anything. It would be a beautiful partnership with my Project, wouldn’t it!? It feels good to believe in myself.

So, you may be wondering what my thoughts are when I say ‘partnership’ with my Project. I’ll definitely need to talk this over with my lawyer to see if this would even work or not.

I waited almost 6 years before I reached out to a Therapist. For two reasons:

1. I wasn’t ready to talk about it.

2. I felt it was too expensive and it made me feel guilty that my husband’s hard earned money would go towards ‘my problems’.

So I have a solution, for other Survivors who may have the same hurdles. The first is at your own pace but hopefully with me coming forward with my story, it’s inspired you to as well. So then it brings us to two. I don't want Survivors to have to decline help because of money, so I would like to help Survivors with counseling costs!

[At first I wanted to fund Hospitals for rape kits and then found out that an amazing facility in Kearney, Family Advocacy Network and Child Advocacy Center, that serves 13 counties in central Nebraska has them available. So no need for my Project to step in on that one.]

I’m sure there will need to be some sort of application process for your counseling sessions to ensure that the need for the session is a result from Sexual Assault/and or Abuse. I’ll clear that up with my lawyer as well. But that’s where I could come in as a Survivor myself and with a Counseling degree, I could be the Therapist. Am I painting the picture of ‘partnership’ for you?

So I called UNK and found out I’ve completed 59 credit hours in the two years I was in college, not too bad (haha). I think a pretty nice chunk of it was from general classes that will go toward most degrees, hopefully. I’ll be making a call tomorrow to the Registers Office and actually maybe even the Counseling & Psychology Departments to see what my options are; online classes would be a plus! I wouldn’t even argue night classes; I just would have a rough time if I needed to take too many day classes with my profession being a stay at home mommy at the moment. We’ll see what God has in store for me.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall [Symptom Series]

2010-11-16T01:10:00.000-06:00

Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) is a mental illness that involves obsessive preoccupation about imaginary or real physical defects. A person suffering from this disorder has persistent negative thoughts about her looks, even if she is endowed with great physical features. She often dislikes her appearance and constantly thinks that her face and body is disproportionate and unappealing. The impact of such exaggerated concerns is usually unbearable and can often lead to severe depression, obsessions about unnecessary medical procedures (cosmetic surgeries), anxiety, distress and social isolation. Cognitive-behavioral therapy and medications are considered effective treatments to help deal with multiple issues experienced by BDD patients. [ehow.com]

The exact cause of BDD isn’t certain, but it might be a combination of biological and environmental factors from past or present. Abuse and neglect can also be contributing factors, as in my case.

I’m still battling this disorder, actually went back to therapy for it and changing medications to see if it makes a difference. I’ve tried very hard to not over analyze how I look or if I gained a pound, it’s draining honestly. If I’m having a ‘bad’ day, when I sit down on the couch I’ll reach for a pillow and have it on my lap or hug it, not because it’s comfortable, because it’s disguising what I don’t want others to see. I avoid mirrors because I don’t want to see my reflection, but when I catch a glimpse then you have to pry me away, because I get so caught up in all my imperfections. It’s very irritating, for me and others.

Some days I don’t change out of my pajamas because I feel like I can’t find anything that will fit right or look right. Other days, I change outfits around 4-5 times. It gets so bad at times that I cancel or skip events because I’m too embarrassed about how I look, any excuse to keep me from leaving the house. It’s awful and can be inhibiting, but I’ve reached out for help, you most definitely can’t handle BDD on your own. It may start out as a little monster within yourself, but it grows over time into something monstrous and it doesn’t fit in your shell of a body anymore. It will consume you.

My therapist did an exercise with me last week that I’ll share with you. It was to help me see what she sees, which are not the same. Anyways, she had me lay down on long craft paper while she traced my body. Before I stood up to turn around and look at it, she reminded me to breath. I looked, and was confused. I felt her trace my body, there was no way she could have cheated. But what I was seeing on that paper is not how I see my body, not at all. The stomach area went in, like an hour glass. That couldn’t be my body, could it? I found myself feeling my sides as I looked at the sketch, trying to make sense of it. She looked at me and said, “This is your body. How do you feel?” All I could say was, “Confused.” I imagined the lines of the sketch would have a much bigger mid-section, as I saw myself whenever I would look in the mirror. I’m still a bit taken back by this exercise. She had me take it home, cut it out and hang it up so I can see it every day. This will be a reminder, to what my body ‘really’ looks like. I still don’t see it in the mirror, but I can see it on the paper, and that’s a start.

I’m starting to realize this disorder isn’t just hurting me; it’s hurting my loved ones too. I can see my husband’s expression when he tells me “You’re beautiful” and I reply, “No I’m not”. I’m trying hard to see what he does, I just don’t. But I’m learning that even if I don’t see it, it doesn’t mean that my husband does not. So he truly does think I’m beautiful. I need to be careful of my replies, because I know it can be harmful to listeners. Let me explain this way; If my husband says I’m beautiful and I reply with the usual, “No I’m not” and my boys over hear this. What message is that sending them? If they see me as beautiful like their daddy does, but then I say I’m not, it 1) Confuses them and makes them rethink ‘beauty’ 2) Makes them have self-esteem issues because if mommy doesn’t think she’s pretty (and I think she is), what does she think of me?

So heartbreaking! I need to own my beauty, even if I think it’s broken and cracked. There’s beauty in brokenness, right? I’ll go with that for now.

I heard somewhere (I believe it was Oprah) that if you verbally say something about yourself, you start to believe it. Even more so than when others speak it.

I hold the power of my beauty and confidence within my own voice? Wow, seems so simple. I’ll start saying nice things to myself, in private of course. I don’t want to look like a crazy lady going around chanting; “I am beautiful, I am beautiful, I am beautiful...”. Haha. Or look like the man off of Saturday Night Live that says; “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!”. Hmm, maybe I’ll adopt that mantra. ;)

Chasing my Demons [Symptom Series]

2010-11-08T13:52:00.000-06:00

January 2005

I was speaking to a man online that I had been chatting with and had phone conversations with for a couple of months. He was living in Hawaii and was flying to Reno, NV that evening for a business meeting. He asked if I’d like to meet him there, but I don’t think he meant it or expected my reply. I said, yes. I lined up my airline ticket, packed my bags within 10 minutes and headed out the door to drive to Denver. It was a death sentence going to meet a stranger in another state, at least, I hoped.

Let me rewind. After the rape, you already know how it affected me with flashbacks and the self-harm that developed; but then it spiraled into a deep, dark depression. I felt worthless and that no one cared about me, no one even noticed my pain. I heard Eric’s voice echo in my head, stuck on ‘repeat’ of the words he spoke to me. I began to think about ending it, my life. How though? I cried when I saw a mouse stuck in a trap, how on earth could I kill myself? I’ve already been cutting to stop my flashbacks, I thought if just one time I could cut too deep. I was too scared. What about pills? How long would it take, does it hurt? I ended up crying myself to sleep instead, thank God.

But another horrible, horrible thought came to mind. I knew how awful this world and the people in it could be; maybe someone else would do it. That’s what led me into meeting a stranger in Nevada. In hopes that he would take the pain away for me.

I realize now how incredibly stupid, scary and crazy that was, and I’m actually embarrassed to even admit it. Thankfully, God was looking out for me the whole time, even when I didn’t want Him to.

Looking back, I feel so bad that I put my family through this. At the time, I called my mom to let her know that I was going to Reno, she was hysterical, as I know I would be as a parent. I wanted her to know that I loved her, just in case things fell true of what I perceived would happen. She had no idea the hopes I had from this trip, she just knew that I was meeting with a stranger that I was speaking to online (which was alarming enough). I picked a flight through Denver instead of Omaha, because Denver is where my brother lived and I wanted to see him one last time too. He had no idea what I was doing, I can’t even remember the lie I made up about meeting some old friend of mine so he wouldn’t worry or stop me from getting on the plane.

This was not me, I’ve never acted like this before. Something got rewired horribly wrong, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I honestly can’t recall the rest of my semester at UNK. The Reno experience was the last thing I remember, then I was moving back home at the end of April. I remember I moved home early, and traveled back for my finals. I don’t know if I was so depressed that I suppressed that time of my life. Maybe God knew my pain and my horrible thoughts, so for the time being, he clipped that memory of life? I don’t know. I wonder when, if ever, the memories will come flooding back?

My purpose in sharing this section of my life, is to open a door for anyone else feeling this same kind of pain to get help. For whatever reason, you feel life isn’t worth it or you’re not worth life—DON’T listen to your demons!! You ARE worth every breath, that’s why God created You, YOU have a purpose! You matter. ♥

Side note: For those of you who say suicide is 'selfish', take another look. From my experience and my past mindset, I felt commiting suicide would be doing my family a favor, because I felt I was a burden. The last thing I would want to do is hurt my loved ones, but I was hurting so bad, that I didn't have a clear mindset and could only see through tunnel vision- which pointed to one answer.

http://www.twloha.com/vision/ [To Write Love On Her Arms]

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org [National Suicide Prevention Lifeline]

Look through my eyes.

2010-11-03T17:37:00.000-05:00

I want to clear something up for some of you that may be thinking it, and the few who have spoken it: “Why are you coming out about this now, after so many years? And why haven’t you turned him in!?”

Obviously, someone who asks such a stabbing question has not endured the pain of rape or the manipulation of someone who can keep you silent long after he’s gone. I did not go into detail about the actual rape, because I have loved ones who read my blog. But in short; it was more brutal than I care to explain, physically and mentally. I was terrified. I was embarrassed. I was ashamed. I was alone. Period.

I honestly didn’t know what to do. My first reaction was to clean myself, but no matter how many showers I took, it didn’t get rid of the filth I felt. I washed my sheets and my entire room, I didn’t want a fingerprint of his in there, I felt like it would still be a way for him to violate me. I didn’t want a single trace of him. It was my way of getting it out of my head, nothing to ‘see’, so nothing to remember. I even threw away my outfit from that night. I shoved my underwear in an empty cereal box, to make sure none of my roommates would see it.

I didn’t think this sort of thing really happened, not in real life, not in Nebraska. Not to me. I blamed myself; I let him into my house and into my room. We were dating; I didn’t think anyone would believe me. And I was right, to an extent. I did try to reach out, to a mutual friend of Eric’s and mine. He was my friend before Eric and I even started to date, so I thought he’d understand and help me. I was wrong. Eric already spoke with him, and told him ‘his story’. I somehow became the bad guy. Apparently Eric dumped me and I was revengeful crying ‘rape’, at least, that’s what Eric said. Unfortunately, he believed him. It hurts to even bring this back up, I was betrayed. It was like I was violated over and over, the nightmare wouldn’t end!

I’m not sure how many people Eric lied to, but I didn’t want to find out. If my friend didn’t believe me, then why would anyone believe me? It put me in a very dark place. I went into a deep depression that I’ll talk more about in my symptom series.

So with no evidence because I cleaned it up or threw it away, and not even my friend believing me, I felt I had no choice but to be silent. How could I possibly explain everything to the police? Would they really believe me? I wasn’t strong enough to put myself through that terror.

Still today, I have a hard time when people say I can still press charges. The statutes of limitations are not up in Nebraska. But, and it’s a big BUT, there’s no evidence. Also, it’s harder to convict someone you were dating of rape. It’s the hard truth. He wasn’t a hooded stranger jumping from the bushes; I was dating him and let him into my house. He tricked me and manipulated me. His claims of breaking up with me and then me trying to get back at him for saying he raped me would probably hold up in court, because he told it so good to have our friend believe him. I had no one to speak on my behalf, because he made sure of it. He secluded me from my friends. I know why now.

I was in denial myself. Even covering up what he did to me, by cleaning everything, to pretend it didn’t happen. I covered the bruises until they disappeared, didn’t want to get in a conversation about those, they would be hard explain. Looking back, he was a master manipulator. He didn’t have to worry, because he knew he had so much fear in me that I would take care of the evidence myself, without even knowing what I was doing.

I am speaking out and telling ‘my story’ now because I’m finally strong enough to do so, I’m bringing justice to my young college self, just by giving her a voice! My purpose is to help other Survivors out there, give them a voice and to spread awareness. I’m not focused on him, I’m focused on me.

Of course, I think about the ‘what if’s’, but I can’t dwell on them. It happened and I reacted. Can’t change either of those, and I’m ok with it. I’m a strong woman as a result, I’m proud of who I’m becoming.

I’m not asking the people who asked these questions to agree, I just wanted to clear my throat with a raised eyebrow and ask them, “What would you have done in this situation?” Because hypothetically, we’d all hope that we’d do what we believe is the right thing, but honestly, you don’t know until you actually experience it.

Bottom line; Don’t be judgmental of a situation you’ve never experienced.

Skin deep [Symptom Series]

2010-11-01T21:54:00.000-05:00

I was working on an assignment at the UNK’s computer lab after Thanksgiving break. It was normal for me to go in during the evenings to work, since their computers had the programs I needed for my assignments.

It was dark out, so I figured it was time to quit and go home. As I was shutting off the computer, I felt someone tug on my hair. I instantly became frantic, and saw Eric. I was screaming and all I could think was, “not again”. I felt a pain on my hand; I looked down and saw that I squeezed my pen so hard it cut into my palm. I then looked up to see one of my classmates; she asked if I was ok because I was screaming. She apologized for tugging on my hair; she didn’t think she pulled that hard.

[Some of my friends found it hard to resist tugging my curly hair as a ‘hello’. I was usually ok with it, but after October 1, 2004; I most definitely was not. Eric pulled my hair when I tried to get away from him, it’s not funny to me anymore.]

That wasn’t the first time I had a flashback, but it was the first time I snapped out of it so fast. I knew why, the cut in my hand. I knew it was unhealthy, but I also knew how realistic and terrifying my flashbacks were…I kept sharp objects in my purse to snap me out of it when I felt a flashback surfacing.

Self-harm (from my experience) is a self coping behavior to deal with something painful, but not resolved. I didn’t know how or who to talk to about my feelings and what I’ve been through so cutting and hitting myself became an addiction for me. It was the only way I knew how to stop my flashbacks and to also have a feeling again, any feeling. I’ve been numb since I was raped. No emotion, blank. Hitting was what I did most, on my upper thighs. I would have bruises continuously. If I hit hard enough, it threw me out of the terror my mind was in and back to reality.

Self-harm is not attention seeking, most people who self-harm don’t want anyone to find out. It’s a reliever, calmer and most importantly, control. It gave me power over myself again, well, so I thought. It led to different kinds of self-harm. I started fixating on my body image. I remembered how Eric told me how fat, ugly and worthless I was. I couldn’t even look in mirrors. I ate food to comfort me then I felt disgusting because of what I would eat. I tried to stick my finger down my throat, but I couldn’t do it. So I would starve myself till I felt I lost the weight that I gained. This cycle would repeat, damaging my health and my self image. I definitely did not have control of myself anymore.

This continued till I started dating my now husband in August of 2005. I told him my story right away, either because I couldn’t hold it in any longer or I wanted him to know what he was getting into before he made the effort to be with me. Well, he stayed. God handpicked us as soul mates because of the long conversations we had and the unwavering support Jamion gave are what healed me of my self-injury addiction. Once I released my secret of being raped to Jamion and had an open dialogue; I didn’t feel judged, I was supported. It unlocked the chains. Most people who self-injure go through years of battling their addiction. God was on my side, even when I wasn’t aware just yet, because I quit when I met my husband.

There are many types of self-harm; cutting, burning, scratching, pulling hair, hitting- the list goes on. I just told you my very brief story to give you a little insight. If you know of anyone self-harming; don’t judge, instead, try to help.

If you or you know anyone struggling with self-harm, please seek help. www.selfinjury.com

Someday is not a day of the Week

2010-10-25T11:12:00.000-05:00

Procrastination refers to the counterproductive deferment of actions or tasks to a later time. The psychological causes of procrastination vary greatly, but generally surround issues of anxiety, low sense of self-worth, and a self defeating mentality. [Wikipedia]

Some of you may not consider procrastination as a symptom, but I certainly do. Before October 2004, I was on time with all my tasks. After, I began to push things aside like they didn’t matter, that I wasn’t good enough for them, or that I was simply too tired and would get to it someday. I still am battling this, as you can see with my delay of writing in my blog. I shut down, over analyzing what people might think of what I write. Will they think I’m crazy, will they understand, will they judge? This list continues to grow as my anxiety follows and it becomes a monster that I try to run away from, and I hide.

Obviously, procrastination for me, is also centered around my lack of self-esteem. This is something I’ll have to continue to work on, maybe forever. My self-esteem that is. I find it crazy and infuriating that something so sacred as self-esteem can be crumbled within minutes but take years to build back up. As a parent; I build my little guys up as if they are Warriors & Knights, tell them how strong and brave they are to build their self-esteem. But I also tell them how much I love them and give hugs & kisses, and make them compassionate young men. I think it’s important to have balance.

We as parents, hold so much responsibility on how our children will act or act out in our society. But the scary part is; we also have no control on outside influence that can interrupt our children’s lives and how it can change them as a person. As much as we hope & pray we have control and protect them every second of their lives, we don’t. Knowing this, has made me a different parent, a more aware parent. My boys are 3 years old and 5 months. I am starting to read books about “Your body belongs to You” and having discussions with my three year old now, to let him know that NOONE should ever touch him inappropriately or make him feel uncomfortable and that he has the right to say “No”. Yes, I’m having this conversation with my three year old son. Because it happens to boys too and to also instill in him that everyone has this right, it will teach him to respect girls as well. I want him to know these things before he starts school, which will be next Fall.

This wasn’t meant to be part of my ‘symptom series’, but it just happened, and I guess a good way to start it since it’s been awhile since you’ve heard from me. I’ll do better about posting, I apologize.

It came, it passed and I survived...again. My 6th anniversary.

2010-10-07T00:58:00.000-05:00

Usually there’s an ‘aftershock’ so strong that I can barely get out of bed during this time of year. Frozen in fear, anxiety and shame. Froze by my PTSD. But not this year, I am a Survivor. I am surrounded by triggers that usually send me into a flashback. For example, smells, the smell of the shampoo I used during my 3 showers the day after. But this year, I have a different response; one of happiness, peace, wholeness, forgiveness…he no longer has control.

God has blessed me with inner peace and moved me to talk about it. Why would I keep this a secret when so many are hurting and feel there is no hope, no way of feeling ‘whole’ again? Because that’s a lie, that’s what he [or she] wants you to feel, defeated. Don’t let them take that from you. I am here to tell you that there is life after rape, and it can be a happy one. I used to live a fake life where I appeared happy on the outside but was dying on the inside. Too afraid to tell my secret, that’s right, ‘my’ secret. He told me that I brought this on myself, and I believed him. I’ve carried the guilt and shame that this was my fault for quite some time.

I’ve learned that self-blame is common with rape victims. Especially ones of acquaintance or date rape. If the victim chooses to report the assault or tell family/friends; she may feel guilty because of the relationship she previously had with the perpetrator. He may have been a boyfriend, friend, her brother’s friend, friend of a friend, etc.

A rape victim often finds ways to blame herself or feel responsible for the assault. She may continue to replay the event in her mind concluding that she did something to cause the assault, or could have fought harder or screamed louder.

There are many reasons why people don’t fight in these situations. When people are afraid, in shock or caught by surprise, their bodies respond in all kinds of ways. They freeze, laugh, they go along with it afraid of being hurt worse, or they may go away in their mind. Whatever you did to get out of the situation was OK. There is no right or wrong way to respond to being sexually assaulted or raped.

I hope by speaking out and standing up I can be a collective voice for those who are frozen in silence. I hope to be a good advocate and show our society what a survivor looks like, acts like and speak interactively with our community. But keep in mind, not every survivor reacts the same, so this is just my story.

I’m going to do a series of posts to help describe certain symptoms (how I perceive them) that rape survivors may experience. This may shed some light as to why I acted the way I did in certain situations or still do.

Definitions

Trigger(s): Something that sets off a memory tape or flashback transporting the person back to the event of her/his original trauma.

Flashback(s): When memories of past traumas feel as if they are taking place in the current moment.

[Resources: rainn.org]