Sunday, June 10, 2012

Bailey's Story: Part 2

For the first part of this story click here: http://avoiceforheather.blogspot.com/2012/02/baileys-story.html

This is just an update on Bailey's situation.

"I learned today that the man who took four years of my life and turned those years into a time where the worst experiences of my life occurred joined the United States Armed Forces as a member of the United States Air Force. The mere fact that he wears a uniform that is a sibling to the one I wear sickens me and that there is nothing I can do about it. He doesn't deserve the honor nor the right to... serve our country, not after all he did to me. But any statute of limitations there existed on rape has passed, or will pass, and I refuse to put my family and friends through the pain of a trial to attempt to bring him to Justice now. 

I've heard and read stories here countless times of victims -- no, Survivors, for such is what we are -- who have moved on, have learned to cope and heal, to start anew encounter their rapists, their abusers, in some form or fashion. I've been lucky to not have had that happen but given that he apparently graduates boot camp soon... the idea that I might be walking down the street on base or the aisles of the Commissary or the NEX and encounter him scares the shit out of me. 

But I'm not alone, I'm not weak, and he cannot hurt me, or even make the attempt to anymore. I wanted to pass along to those here, the Survivors, the ones who help us, the members of RISE, Kylie the founder, and those who are simply silent supports from the sidelines, that no matter what happens, no matter how far you come or the obstacles that attempt valiantly (and yet fail) to derail you, you are strong, you are brave, and most of all you survived when others like you have not. 


And I pray that everyone here learns the love I have found in my beloved, Justin, a male who deserves some kind of prize, a medal, anything, for the amazing help he has been to me; a foundation I sorely needed when everything else in my life was wracked with chaos. Keep pushing forward, my fellows, keep fighting and striving to achieve the level of healing you deserve and need. And know that you are NEVER alone in that fight. Ever. 


Blessed be,AGAA Stewart, Bailey United States Navy"

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Thursday, May 31, 2012

Crystal's Story

New story submission from our R.I.S.E. facebook page:

This one was submitted by a girl named Meg, on behalf of her friend Crystal. This is the story of someone who is still struggling. Here’s her story:

“I was used and used, over and over again, and some nights it was multiple guys, and sometimes women. This was when I was 5-17. I am now 19. 

I’m not sure if I’m okay, but I keep going day by day, and that is what has been getting me by. There are many things that I regret getting into because I am a mess right now. I have been self-harming, drinking, and I even tried committing suicide three times, but I think that there’s a reason I failed at all three times. Even though with the last one I scared myself and I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, I think there’s a reason that god has me here.

I know that it has only been two years since I have been free, but for me, two years is much more than what you would think, because all the years that people would trade me for money or for drugs, that was my life until I finally got the strength to reach for help, and I was able to get away from those people. I know now that I have a long road to recovery, but I feel like I am a different person because I no longer have to be naked in front of several people at a time.

I have gotten help, and I do have PTSD and major depression, but I am determined to get better, and hopefully one day help children that are being abused, so they won’t have to hurt the way that I did.

To this day, I sometimes wonder why my suicide attempts didn’t go the way I planned, because I still have days that I don’t want to get up or feel like eating. I just get to feeling so worthless, so I treat myself like crap. But I am on my way, and that’s all that matters. I look forward to the day when I can proudly say, “I am a survivor.”

-Crystal

"Thank you for sharing her story. Please let her know how sorry we are for everything she's been through, and that we are here for her if she ever needs to talk. I personally know what it's like to have been suicidal and to have had every attempt fail. But there are too many reasons to live. Maybe that's why the attempts fail - because there's still so much to do - so much life left to live. :)"

-Kylie (Founder)



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Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Anonymous - Finding Hope

New story submission from our R.I.S.E. facebook page: 

Here is my story. Feel free to share it, but if you could leave my name out, I'd really appreciate it :) Here goes:

It all started when I was about 4. My preschool bus driver molested me and a few other little girls I rode the bus with. I still remember what he looks like, and I'm now 33. From the ages of 7-11, I was molested by my father. I lived with my mom (my mom and dad divorced when I was little), and my mom was never around much, so I was with my dad a lot. He'd molest me while I was with him on weekends. While I lived with my mom, she had a boyfriend we moved in with. He, too, molested me around the age of 10. He'd sneak in my room at night while I was asleep. When my mom found out, we moved out of the house, and I transferred schools.

By the time I was 19, I was very promiscuous, and I was into drugs and alcohol. I went to a party one night with my step sister, and I was raped outside the house on the back lawn. I kept saying no, but he didn't stop. I felt I deserved it because I had already had sex with another guy at that same party. That party ended, and we went on to another one, where again, someone forced himself on me. I told him to stop, but he didn't listen either. Of course, I drank and continued to do drugs. A couple of months later, I was at another party, where a man forced me into the bathroom and raped me from behind. I was crying and said stop, but he didn't care. He must have told his friend (whom I thought was my friend also) because that "friend" offered me a ride home because I was too drunk to drive. He stopped the car because I needed some fresh air. While outside of the car, he forced me on to the hood of the car, where he raped me. I screamed, but no one heard.

Any relationship I ever had after that, I was always the one who initiated the intimacy. I figured, "take control before he controls you". I used sex as a weapon all the time because I figured that was one thing I could control. I sure as hell couldn't control anything else going on in my life.

I would struggle everyday with my self esteem and self worth. I don't know if it was by the grace of God or what, but one day I just stopped drinking to excess, and I stopped doing drugs.

When I was 25, I married a man who was fourteen years older than me. He was abusive both mentally and physically, but I did get a son out of it :) My son was born in December of 2005, and I divorced my husband in 2010 after he shoved me down in front of my son and broke my wrist.

For years, my thoughts were "Why am I even here? My only purpose in life is to be a man's sex slave or punching bag, I have nothing to live for, no one cares about me, I am damaged goods and no one will want me around, so I may as well kill myself" However, I now know why I'm still around. I was blessed with a beautiful son, I have great friends who are like sisters to me, and God must have other plans for me. The pain of what happened to me will always be there, and I'll never forget it, but my son's smile and the relationship I have with my best friends tell me why I never carried out that suicide. There is hope after sexual abuse/assault, and there is life again. I'm so glad I made the choice to keep fighting against this. If I hadn't, I wouldn't know the good things I have in my life too. I am a survivor.

-Anonymous

"I'm so proud of you for moving on, and seeking healing from the past. Like you said, you have a son to think about now, and I think God DOES have more planned for your life. I think one of those plans is you sharing your story like you just did, not only to help in your own healing, but when we post it, to help someone else too :)"

-Kylie (Founder)

NOTE: If you feel the need to share your story, you can send us a private message on our Facebook. We will not post it without your permission. Sharing your story is the first step to healing, and should you choose to let us post your story, you could be helping someone else in your situation realize that they are not alone. You might even save someone's life.



You can also find R.I.S.E. at the sites below:

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

A Story From the Other Side - All You Need is Love

Everyone has different things they need to heal. For me I needed someone to believe in me, some to comfort me, someone who could just be there. I ask my fiancé to write something for R.I.S.E., something about what it's like taking care of someone with a past like mine. This is what he wrote.


Before I start, allow me to preface something. Before I met Rindi, I had little to no knowledge of sexual abuse. There was no history of it in my family nor friends. I never took part in any psycology classes and participated in counceling twice in my entire life. Stepping into her world could be compared to a little boy being asked to do brain surgery. Its interesting what you can learn about yourself by being immersed in something like this.

When I was told of her troubled past, my initial thought was that there had to be a simple set of words or actions to make things right again. Perhaps it was arrogance, ignorance, or even both, but my inner compulsion to fix things kicked into high gear. Despite all of these new things coming to light and my belief that things could be made better, I could think of nothing to say. I simply held her and continued to listen to her speak. The more she spoke, the more I continued to get angry and feel that much more helpless. This was not my element. This was not something I could correct with a comparison of a simmilar situation that happened to me. I had nothing.

These conversations continued for a while. Each time that I learned more. After enough time, she began to grow concern that her information would lead to me running or requesting to not hear any more. I told her that there was no chance I would ever think of doing anything like that. This answer seemed to come out of me so easily. I love her. There is no other option. Every answer I had for her came so quickly, I began to think I had done this before. (Or at least in a previous life.)

When I observed her first flashback, I was horrified. It was as if I was watching her leave the room without moving. I was afraid to speak or touch her, assuming it would only make matters worse. I watched her fall into her own mind for nearly thirty minutes. I stayed at her side until she retreated to a bathroom where her friends (with more experience) came to her aid. Afterwards, I returned to her side and held her in silence. It was then that I realized that I trully loved her. I spent so much of my life hiding, denying, or running from things I could not control or fix. Here I was, so far in over my head and yet I remained.

It doesn't take patience to be with a woman who has endured so much pain. It doesnt take an understanding of that world. It takes love. I hate to sound like a Disney movie, but love seems to be a larger factor in her healing process than I thought. I can't say that others must find a person to love them to heal, but I knew what she needed specifically.

Sorry for the random blurt of words, just thought I would share some insight into a newcomers brain.

Anthony Hankins
 He couldn't be more right. It's scary and overwhelming to anyone trying to help that has never experience such a past. But there are people out there that are willing to learn, willing to keep trying if they fail. As hard as it can be to come forward and tell your significant other of your past it has to be done. How else will they ever learn, ever be able to provide for what you need, ever be able to help you heal? Having someone validate your pain and care I believe are some of the most important gifts you can receive in your healing process. It literally challenges everything your abuse has taught you. I encourage everyone who can to speak up as soon as they feel they are ready, just to be able to experience these chances. 

I'd also like to point out that if  your partner isn't ready to deal with this, or prefers to push your pain to the background don't settle. You are not damaged goods. You are not broken beyond repair. In the same token we cannot complete depend on our partners for validation of our own self worth. Not only will we exhaust them, but we will continue to need constant reassurance. At some point we have to rebuild and reform our own self worth, and let them be someone we can lean on, but our self worth should not complete be crushed without them. This is one of the hardest things as survivors we have to learn and balance, but if you do, you can finally live again.


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Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Anonymous - Warrior

New story submission from our R.I.S.E. facebook page::

"I was sexually, physically, emotionally and verabally abused for about 7 and a half years. People would pay my grandmother (on my dad's side), and in exchange, she would let them have sex with me. At that time, I was between the ages of 7 and 13. I started cutting when I was about 12 years old, because I thought that the physical pain was better than the emotional.

I was finally able to get out of that situation, but then, one month before my 15th birthday, I was Raped. About one week later, I tried to comit suicide. I stabbed myself, and all the doctors were surprised I didn't do any internal damage.

I was 17 when I told my family what happened between my grandmother and me, and they still don't know everything that went on, but at the same time, I have been coping with major depression, anxiety, panic attacks and PTSD. I have tried getting justice for myself, because I want to see that my grandmother pays for all the times she hurt me, but they say I can't because it is too late... 

So, I have moved on. I do have those days when I question "What am I still doing here?" but, I move forward, because I don't want to let her win. I am going to win by fighting my battle, and by knowing that everything she put me through has made me a stronger person. 

I am also able to understand other people that where abused as children now, and this is why I am currently in college to become a social worker. 

I will never forget what happened to me, but it dosen't bother me like it used to. I have finally been able to heal. I am a survivor."

-Anonymous

NOTE: If you feel the need to share your story, you can send us a private message on our Facebook. We will not post it without your permission. Sharing your story is the first step to healing, and should you choose to let us post your story, you could be helping someone else in your situation realize that they are not alone. You might even save someone's life.

Keep Rising!

-Kylie (Founder)



You can also find R.I.S.E. at the sites below:

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



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