Why do sexual assault victims wait so long to seek charges against their alleged abusers?
In light of the Kavanaugh situation going on, I wanted to post this extremely informative thread. There are a lot of great comments explaining why people don’t immediately report assaults.
Trauma trancends rational logic. You’re in shock. Would you ask a victim of a collision why they didnt get up and bandage themselves together? Of course not, you would understand they’re in shock and pain. So why do we treat assault survivors like this? “Why didn’t you run? Why didn’t you report?” A lot of people who ask this just don’t understand. They don’t understand the situation or the pain, they don’t know how to help.
Some people dont like to hear this, but assault is much more prevalent than we would like to believe. I know too many women (and men) who have gotten through horrific, traumatic situations – a disgustingly high amount of them sexual assaults.
Have some compassion. Stop victim blaming.
I feel like I’m holding onto so much, and I can’t possibly ask for help. I don’t know how to unload lightly onto someone else, because everything feels like it’s stuck and tangled together. I don’t want to drop this all on someone else, so I feel like I have to keep hanging on, alone.
I used to think that you were the one for me
Because you were the first.
The first to treat me how I wanted to be treated
And how I deserved to be treated.
You were the first I was with while I began to
Realize my worth.
I used to place so much value in Firsts.
I remember my first boyfriend,
My first kiss.
I thought because he was my first
We were meant to be.
I wasn’t really in love with him, though,
I was in love with the idea of the First.
Instead I was introduced to my first heartbreak.
My first betrayal.
After a long line of Firsts,
I ended up with you.
I was certain this was the be all and end all.
You were the first to treat me with that level of respect.
You were the first to truly listen and share my pain.
I clung onto you for so long because
I felt that you were my most important,
Significant First –
And for the first time, you didn’t want me back.
For the first time, I let you go.
The one for me
Is not a First in many ways,
But is a First where it matters most.
And in the end, maybe Firsts aren’t important after all.
Life isn’t that simple.
He is not my first kiss,
Nor my first love.
But I remember our firsts
As being sweeter than honey
And I remember feeling
Lighter than air
Happier than ever.
So goodbye to all my last Firsts.
A heartbeat that is an engineless, runaway train.
A brain severed from its cord.
A body in pieces.
There is someone shrieking over there,
In that corner where
Uncertainty and fear lies.
A dull pounding behind the eyes
Becomes a searing pain.
The world feels so dangerous nowadays.
To the girl I ruthlessly harmed,
Both physically and mentally –
Please find it in your heart
To forgive me.
To the girl I told wasn’t good enough
Over and over,
Please find it in your heart
To let go of the pain.
I was hurting
So I hurt you,
Hoping for relief.
I should have been there for you.
I shouldn’t have let you go through it alone.
I am sorry.
A paper plane flying through a thunderstorm.
Each drop weighs ever heavy on the thin wings,
Curling, folding, disfiguring the once
Straight, strong edges.
Laying in a puddle of muddy water,
A crumpled shape is left.
When the sun returns, the airplane cannot be recovered –
It dries and hardens,
Never quite the same.
I have nothing. I lie here empty and uncertain of why exactly I’m hurting. There’s an uneasiness that settles throughout the spaces that have been worn through my mind. It’s the kind of feeling of being trapped. Of falling and having no way back.
Every night at 2:15 am, I will wake up in a state of fear after a nightmare. Sometimes they’re the same, sometimes it’s a recurring one.
Tonight I had a dream that I was walking through a neighbourhood with my family, as a storm grew around the corner. We arrived at their house and realized it was more than a storm – it was a tornado. The tornado ripped open a wall and I saw a family member run down to the basement to safety. We, however, were trapped outside. We ran away from the tornado. It appeared to move away, but ended up in front of us again. We ran the other way and realized it was circling us. I curled up on the ground and closed my eyes, listening to the roaring winds around me. I thought, ‘I’m too young to die’, as I felt my soul being pulled up and being condensed into a signal atom. I thought I’d disappear, but I re-awoke into another dream (maybe another life).
According to dreammoods.com:
To dream that you are in a tornado means that you are feeling overwhelmed and out of control. Your plans will be filled with much complications and you will be met with a series of disappointments. If you dream that you come out of the tornado with no injuries, then it implies that the rough times are temporary and you will come out of it stronger and happier.
Unfortunately I did not come out of the tornado with no injuries. Not sure how much we can trust these interpretations but still very interesting. The emotions I felt during the nightmare and upon waking up were: fear, a feeling of being trapped, hopelessness.
To the girl who loved with all her heart and saw the world in brightest colors
Who would laugh the hardest at her own jokes
And would be moved to tears by a piece of music.
To the girl who welcomed all into her life with open arms
Who approached everything
And everyone with curiosity instead of judgement.
You will meet someone unfathomable to you
Someone who is fearful, insecure, and selfish
And you will love them.
In your mind, love does not harm
Trust can’t be broken
And you could never be abused.
You will be wrong.
I know it’s getting bad because I’m hitting a writers’ block. I don’t even want to write.
I know it’s getting bad because I’m always on edge, and scared of people. I believe they will ostracize me. They will leave me.
If I’m alone by choice, then I can’t be rejected. They can’t leave me if I’m already alone.
But withdrawing and loneliness is like putting a band-aid on a broken bone. It’s not addressing the underlying problem. It is a quick fix that actually doesn’t fix anything at all.
Days go past and I can’t help but feeling like I’m wasting my life away.
Not quite miserable and sobbing, but also not happy either. I just am. In a numb sort of way, not a mindful sort of way.
I’m starting to accept that this is getting too hard.