R.I.S.E. Together: February 2012

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Confrontation

In a survivors lifetime they will hear over and over again these three words, “confront your attacker. “ They make it sound so easy, like all damage and pain you feel in your heat will be instantly cure once you face them. Though many survivors swear by confronting their attackers, others however, find it a huge setback in their healing process. It’s important to remember everyone and every story is different. You have to face all the possible outcomes, good and bad.

Before you make that step in facing your attackers consider this:

Reasons people confront:

1) Validation of memories
2) Make those you confront feel the impact of what was done to you
3) See your abuser suffer
4) Revenge seeking
5) To seek payment for therapy
6) To try to establish a real relationship

Questions to ask yourself before you decide:
1) Whom do I want to talk to and why?
2) What do I hope to gain? Is this realistic?
3) Am I willing to lose contact with those who also know the person?
4) Am I stable enough to stand being challenged?

My mother once asked me why I never thought about confronting my rapist. I thought seriously about this question for a long time before responding. I look at it simply as this. Right now if I was to see him face to face and hear his voice utter that first denial, I would break. I would fall screaming and crying to the floor. When I am strong enough to look at him and face his lies well then there really wouldn’t be a need for me to confront him anymore, would there?

For some actually confronting the attacker is impossible. Maybe your attacker died, or moved away, or maybe they developed an illness like Alzheimer’s and don’t remember. Maybe, it’s just too hard to face them still. Don’t lose heart, there are still actions you can take. For example, you can try doing mock confrontations to help. It is a common therapy technique to have you writing a letter to your attacker, or perform the ‘empty chair method,’ where you image your attacker sitting across from you in a chair and you tell him what you are feeling, or whatever you feel the need to say. Any of these ‘confrontations’ can still help you get some measure, or closure and healing.

I reached out to some of our members asked what their thoughts were on confronting their attackers, this is what they said.

Bailey - I think it would depend on how far along in the healing process you are. Personally I don't think confronting him (my attacker) by myself would help any, because I know he would just discount anything I ever said, tell me I'm lying and it would set me back in healing way too far to make it worth the effort. When I confronted him before and went to leave I just started crying and if my aunt hadn't been with me and told him I was leaving him FOR me, I wouldn't have been able to do it.

Kandace - I don't think it would help. about 98% of the time, attackers won't see that what they did was wrong. i know a lot of men still think that women are theirs for the taking and blah blah, or if they feel even a little guilt they will lie and say it never happened or that you "wanted" it or say "oh you know you liked it."

Jessica - I think it depends on where you are in the recovery process, and what your goal is in confrontation. I think you need to set expectations for yourself, ie: how you will respond emotionally if your perpetrator denies it, or how you'll respond if they accept what you're saying and apologize. I think you need to have a very strong support system in place, people who know what you're doing and how they can love you after the meeting.

Some people confront their attacker because they think it's the "right" thing to do in recovery, that it's their next step to becoming whole again. But I disagree. Confronting should only be done when someone is absolutely certain they're ready for the consequences of such a meeting, whatever the results may be. It may take some people months to get there, others years, still others decades, and for some they'll find value in never confronting. It's a very, very personalized and individual decision, based on the circumstances of the attack and the purpose of the confrontation. It can be very healing, but only if done properly.

Beth - I'll expound on what Jessica said. Confrronting is not defined as solely with a perpetrator. Confrontation can be a complete success even if it is never heard or read by the perp. In cases where the abuser/perpetrator/attacker IS a stranger, saying that confronting is necessary for healing sets that individual up for many disappointments. My own response is pretty much an echo of what Jess said. Confronting is very personal and takes a great deal of recovery experience. I also believe that confronting should never be done alone. This sets a victim up for further potential victimization. I think an individual who is in the process of confronting should be seeking guidance, either from a counselor or a very trusted individual. We all need love and support and it is especially vital in this kind of situation/decision. Also, I guess that I want to add that confrontation for me has been both. Hurtful and helpful. The two occasions were very different. I was not ready for the first and was definitely wounded by the negative reaction. The next time was more about acceptance. I could accept that my perp would never admit or acknowledge what he did, and for now I am okay with that. I was able to find peace and security knowing that I had learned how to stand up for myself.

Michelle - I double mock what Jessica and Beth have said. Simulated confrontation has played a HUGE part in my recovery process seeing how my abusers are deceased and or strangers. But you HAVE to remember that your recovery CAN NOT depend on the actions and words on a confrontation from an abuser. A strong support system as well as a counselor in place to talk before, during and after the act of confrontation, I think, is a must.

Kylie (R.I.S.E. – Founder) - With me of course the situation was pretty unique - I knew my attacker, and after the attack I had gone into shock for a couple years. I even stayed in contact with him for a while, possibly leading him to believe that he hadn't done anything wrong. When I fully realized what he had done to me, I finally stopped talking to him. Then I went through the flashbacks and the torture of the first steps in the healing process. After about a year of this, I would have good days and bad days. I never knew when a bad day would hit, but when it did, I would usually wake up crying, mad at myself and at him and also at those people who didn't believe me when I told them what happened. I got into the habit of feeling sorry for myself all day, and that was no way to live. So, one morning [a month or 2 ago now] I woke up and felt a bad day coming on, but this time, it was different. I was sick of feeling like a victim. So, I got on facebook, found my rapist, and sent him a short email saying that he had in fact raped me and that I wasn't okay with it; then I blocked him, that way he can't write back. People are different, but I feel so much better. I haven't had a bad day since.

There’s never a perfect answer to confronting your attacker. It’s depends too much on how you as an individual will handle it emotionally then to be summed up into a simple solution. But the bottom line is you do what you think you need to do to heal. If you feel like they need to know what they did to you emotionally and you feel ready, then tell them, if not, there’s no shame in saying you aren’t ready. As our founder Kylie once said, “I can't tell you what to do, as I am not a professional, and I don't know your situation. Every situation is different, and it just depends on certain things. All I can say for you is just follow your instincts. If you think it will help you, and if he has no way of hurting you again, then it might be a good thing for you too. But don't do or say anything that could endanger you again. Good luck, and keep rising.”

More info about confronting your attacker: Pandora's Project: http://www.pandys.org/articles/confrontingyourabuser.html

Check out more about R.I.S.E. at any of the following:

Website: avoiceforheather.tripod.com
Myspace: myspace.com/avoiceforheather
Blog: avoiceforheather.blogspot.com
Facebook:www.facebook.com/avoiceforheather
Twitter: www.twitter.com/VoiceforHeather
Email: VoiceforHeather@yahoo.com

Bailey's Story

This is a story shared by one of our members. This is Bailey's Story.

There are things that lie hidden beneath the shadows of our minds, tearing and whispering and hating and loving simultaneously. Not many people can understand that this division of emotional sectors within the heart are the reasons some of us find ourselves weakened by a pretty smile, a kind touch to the forearm, a soft laugh at a joke we know very well isn’t funny. Not many people can understand that it is also that very division of emotional sectors within the heart that makes us strong and unbreakable… but those that do and are broken regardless of that knowledge fall so far and so fast that when they hit bottom it’s unexpected and they shatter totally.

I’m not here to pretend I’m not one of those very worthwhile people that were strong enough to overcome the obstacle that so sexily threw itself happily in my general direction hoping to latch on like the proverbial leech and just start sucking the very life essence from my veins. I was. I hit rock bottom in a matter of six months and but it was made all the worse that within feet of hitting bottom I came to my senses and tried to scramble for something to latch onto to stop my fall or at least help me brace for an impact I was not entirely expecting. Only my attempt failed and when I hit I was aware and awake, watching as the pieces of my Self shattered, broken into a million sparkling pieces that went in all directions. Some lodged into the ground around me, some flew to the top of the hole that had been dug for me, my own personal, happy little circular grave that was far too deep for my understanding or liking. And the rest pockmarked the rest of the distance between top and bottom.

It took me four years, thousands of attempts, some successful, others not, to escape that hole, that grave, and when I did it was only the beginning of a long journey that I began alone. After all, for four years no one knew the depth of the depravity I suffered at the hands of a man who had promised to love me, who said he’d never hurt me and when he did he promised he would never hurt me again, and who would believe me? None of his friends who supposedly knew him so well. Surely not his father who was barely sober enough to even stand up straight. Hell no to the thought of convincing his adoring mother and older sister who’d been around the block almost as much as I had when it came to being jaded. I was too ashamed to tell my mother, to afraid of what it would mean. If I spoke of it to anyone but my friends, it would make it real. It would mean admitting that I, the strong foundation for so many of my friends and family members, was actually weak. That I allowed some pipsqueak bastard to destroy the very essence of who I am. To think me weak, stupid, fat, and ugly and not just think that, but make me believe it as well.

Don’t think that I’m to the point of pretending that if certain people hadn’t seen what was happening, and stepped in that I wouldn’t have given in to suicide. I’m not naïve enough to try and allude myself into thinking that. In fact, the night I fell in love with my fiancé is the very night when everything came to a head and I just couldn’t handle it anymore. It’s been proven that those that have suffered any type of trauma like a rape or physical abuse, even something as simple as mental and emotional abuse (called “simple” merely for the fact that it is the easiest abuse to overlook and easiest to pass off as a figment of the victim’s imagination), that they are more likely to commit suicide if they don’t find help. I was to that point, and farther.

My friends, brothers, and sisters, were all very understanding and supportive. But what they, nor I, ever expected was a childhood friend professing his love, pulling me in, me who was at the time desperate for attention, for someone to tell me that everything my ex-husband had told me was a lie, and when I fell too hard and too fast, he freaked and pulled away. But he did it swiftly by cutting all communication, ignoring me, and thinking I’d be there when he came out of it. No one knew just how deeply it cut me, how it had started the vicious cycle of depression and self-hate into motion. I was been dragged back towards that hole, that fucking grave, inch by inch, ankles held in a death grip by the demons of a past I didn’t want and didn’t deserve. And when I flashed back for the first time that anyone was witness to, it was bad enough that it opened their eyes. They started watching me like hawks, afraid of what it meant, what it would reduce me to, not knowing that them doing that only made it that much worse for me.

I was raped. I was abused mentally and emotionally for four years. It started when I was sixteen and ended when I was 19. I left my ex-husband on our four year anniversary of being married. Got up that morning, left like I was going to work after giving him a hug and a kiss and telling him “I love you, happy anniversary, sweetheart.” Only thing is I came back two hours later in jeans and a t-shirt, with my aunt driving my mother’s car and loaded all my shit into both vehicles and drove away. It was hard. I couldn’t tell him to his face that I had had enough, that I was leaving. My aunt had to do it for me because I started sobbing when I saw the anger flash across his face. The anger that usually preceded me being left bleeding, torn and sobbing on the floor for hours, unable to move for the pain was far too much and heaven help me if I made a sound that he could hear. That would only make it worse. My ex did things to me, made me do things to myself or to him, that if I even mentioned it to authorities could have me face criminal charges. I still can’t talk about them even now, nearly two years later.

I’ve suffered so greatly, but I escaped. Yes, I could have left at any moment… or so some of my friends who don’t know anything about being in that type of situation tell me. I could have… I had every available avenue of help waiting for the word to be said to charge into battle at my defense, but I didn’t have the ability to speak that word. I still don’t. I’m silent and try to make it until something triggers it, or nothing triggers it, it just pops up on its own. And when the dam breaks, all hell breaks loose and there’s nothing I can do but ride the wave out, holding desperately to the hands of my fiancé and my brothers and sisters, praying that my head doesn’t get sucked under in the fast, deadly current of my own memories.
You’ll heal, I won’t lie and say you won’t. Nor will I tell you everything’s okay because that’s an obvious, blatant lie. It’s not okay now but it will be and that’s all that matters. I’ve been at this for two years now and I have a long way to go ahead of me. But you can love again, you can be whole, you just cannot give up. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how afraid you are of making the same mistake again, no matter how much you still believe what that sick fuck told you, you cannot give up because if you do then they will win. They will have beaten you in the worst possible way, they’ll have stolen who you are even without being there to see it happen. Don’t allow that. Don’t give up, don’t stop believing there is a better place at the end of the long tunnel of recovery. I know there is, I’ve glimpsed it. Actually, I was lucky enough to have my light walk into that stupid tunnel, take my hand, and walk right beside me. He hasn’t left yet.

Will you find someone like I did? I won’t say you will or will not. I’m not the Goddess or God, I don’t have that Divine ability. One thing I do know?

You are strong, beautiful, kind, loving, intelligent, and everything that your abuser/rapist told you that you weren’t. They only said those things because they are the ugly ones. Not you.
Don’t give up, my brothers and sisters, don’t ever give in. It’s hard and it’s a long, long tiresome journey. But it’s worth it in the end. I promise.

~AGAA Stewart, Bailey; USN