Skip to main content

Let's talk about triggers.

Today in group I was triggered by the word vulnerable. Why? It reminds me of what Tracy and I talk about in therapy. Which made me think of him. Which led to me tensing up and wanting to run and hide. If I were to name the emotion from all that it would probably be shame and anger. And whatever you would call the shame from going through assault. The sexual shame. All of it. So then I feel mentally spent and flashbacks or memories happen. Guilty about letting him do it. Which leads me back to why didn't I stop it.

As Tracy asked me one day. "If you had said no, would he have listened." And I believe the answer to be no, no, he wouldn't have. His wife was pregnant and he was using me to get what he wanted.

Also, I had a dream about my ex-good friend. His ex-sister-in-law. I'm angry at that family for judging me when they don't know what's going on. And I miss C's friendship. I can't guarantee that's why she stopped talking to me. But, when I see the family and they all give me evil looks... Well it's pretty obvious.

It makes me angry that the current pastor of my parents church knows he was unfaithful and he supposedly knows who it is... Blah blah. Does anyone care to know the truth. I doubt it. I'm tired of living in shame. Of worrying that God is angry with me. That I'm some kind of whore. That being mentally ill isn't an excuse for going along with it. I'm angry that I let it happen. And I'm angry that I can't get over this. I'm angry. But the anger is covering all the shame and guilt I feel. Especially since he doesn't think twice of what he did. 

So, I'm beat. I put in some Disney movies and drinking my joyful tea and holding my fearlessness necklace I never take off. Yes, I will be okay. I will win. I know the truth, my true friends know the truth and it will all be ok!

Special thanks to Britt and my "mom" MA! Love you guys!!

Katie 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tara's story.

" Here is my story of how I grew up in a home that was surrounded by domestic violence. Growing up was crazy for me. My parents always argued. Before I was born my mother and real father used to fight always according to what my mother told me and what my sister and brother witnessed. But after I was born my father stuck around until I was like 2 or 3. That's when my stepfather began raising me. After that my mother and he would always argue. They got physical with each other. They got to the point where my mother would get a knife and try to hurt my stepfather. I remember one time she chased him down the stair and in order to escape from her, he jumped out the window and broke his leg. This happened when I was younger. She has had so much anger in her we didn’t know where it came from. There were other times where she got angry at me and threw figurines at me. One Thanksgiving Day I wanted to spend it at my sister house, this was when I was in middle school, and my mother wok...
1 comment
Read more

Ashley's Story

Thank you Ashley for being so brave! Love you.  " Hello, my name is Ashley and I am 19 years old. I am writing to you all today to tell my story, thanks to the wonderful creators of this page. One of them happens to be my best friend :)  My mom has always been verbally abusive. As I was growing up I struggled with learning how to respect my mom because she would always say things to hurt me and my way of defending myself was talking back. Others found it offensive and still do. They believe that every child should respect their parents. I do agree with that but it is hard to do when you are a victim in the relationship. Sometimes some people are opinion based on the old fashion morals and beliefs that every child should respect their parents. Those same people either blind themselves from witnessing a verbal attack or they don't care. My grandmother, my father’s mom, lived with us until she got sick and had to live with my aunt in Reno when I was 8. She raised me more than my ...
1 comment
Read more

Stephanie's story.

" When I was in my mid-teens, I was sexually assaulted. When I was in my mid-teens,  I was taught my sole purpose on this earth was to be of service to men, to be a sexual object, not a human being .   After being assaulted, everything I thought I knew about myself crumbled. I became an object, not a person . The deep seeded shame society taught me was mine to bear crippled and silenced me. I was taught that what happened to me was my fault. I walked the hallways at school with my head tilted to the floor and my books tightly wrapped around my chest. I didn’t have to look up to know everyone was whispering to each other about me as I walked by. “Did you hear, she cuts herself, what an attention whore”, “Did you know she was drinking the other day in class? She’s crazy”. Little did they know about the pain I was feeling inside, how every day I would wake up hoping it would be my last. After my assault, I felt so alone and the only way I could release my pain was to wage a war a...
Post a Comment
Read more