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Posts Tagged ‘sexual assault’

“Help me, it’s like the walls are caving in.
Sometimes I feel like giving up,
No medicine is strong enough.
Someone help me.
I’m crawling in my skin.
Sometimes I feel like giving up
But I just can’t.
It isn’t in my blood.”

~Sean Mendes

I really listened to these lyrics for the first time a few weeks ago and they hit me. Hard. This is a description of an anxiety and/or a depression hole, folks, pure and simple. I’ve, of course, heard of Sean Mendes, but I didn’t know that he sang this song until yesterday. It’s clear, though, that he knows a more than a bit about anxiety and depression. Here’s a bit more from the same song:

“Laying on the bathroom floor, feeling nothing.
I’m overwhelmed and insecure, give me something
I could take to ease my mind slowly.
Just have a drink and you’ll feel better.
Just take her home and you’ll feel better.
Keep telling me that it gets better.
Does it ever?”

Sounds completely hopeless, yes? That’s because it is, at the time. He’s absolutely hit the nail on the head. When you “fall” into one of these holes, this is the feeling. And it’s scary. And it sucks. And, for a while, it feels like you’ll never be right again. In my case, eventually I do feel right again, quicker these days than before I started talk therapy a few years ago, but for some, it lasts for days, weeks, and months. Through therapy, I’ve learned strategies to cope, but while that helps to quiet the demons, it doesn’t keep them away entirely. The combination of extended childhood trauma plus my genetic disposition toward depression make it clear that I will probably always need some sort of therapeutic outlet. I know that and I’ve made peace with that. I’m strong, but not strong enough to carry this thing by myself.

And I’m not by myself. Besides my therapist, Marty is a huge support and I have no doubt that my “holes” frustrate him at times, but he’s done his best to understand and he has learned about depression in order to help me with what I need at the time, which is usually for him to keep a watchful distance and let me ride it out in silence. He never complains.

I wish I could control it.

Twice, I’ve seen posts on Facebook this week about choosing to be happy, that you only have to make the choice to be happy and it will be all better. How easy that sounds! Unfortunately, I can’t choose or pray my way out of this disease any more than I can choose or pray my way out of any other disease. Just because it has to do with my brain doesn’t make it easier to get rid of than bronchitis or a broken arm. It amazes me that people still think that way.

What has brought all of this depression talk on, you ask? These past two weeks have been a struggle for me; it’s been rough. Triggering, in popular talk. Writing helps me deal with it. I’m not okay with mocking sexual assault victims, in public or otherwise, but right now, the administration of our country seems fine with that. I’m hurting, not just for me, but for all victims, especially for those have kept it to themselves, who were not believed or helped. My heart aches for them.

The worst thing was the laughter at the Trump rally as he mocked Dr. Ford, especially after he had called her testimony credible. My god, that was hard to stomach. Vile, really. Inhuman. Who thinks that this is okay? How much of a scum do you have to be to laugh at someone who has clearly been victimized, whether or not you believe it was the named perpetrator? I felt sick when heard it. A lot of bad words were flung at the TV screen.

I’ve been there, been through it. Years of it. I didn’t make a noise about it until it was too late, legally, to make a noise. I didn’t report at the time, I was terrified. I was a child, and then a teenager. But it happened. I know that. The step-monster knows that. That is enough for me. I understand why things don’t come out until later. You have to be strong enough, first. That takes time for some of us.

Depression sucks, and I have to be stronger than it is, but I’m tired this week. Exhausted, really, but I’m okay. When triggers like this happen, you have to work through it, you have to process what’s going on and choose how you will respond, but it has felt like a continual battle lately. I need a break. I know it will pass, and there will be good days, really good days. But I know that it’s waiting in the wings, just waiting for that next rape “joke”, that next unexpected scene in a television show, that next disturbing section in a book. Then, the cycle begins again but by then, there’s a reserve of strength to deal with it.

“Sometimes I feel like giving up
But I just can’t.
It isn’t in my blood.”

I’m not giving up; not even close. There’s too much to fight for and after a short bit, I’ll be back to fight again.

You are not alone.

 

 

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*Disclaimer* This post is about harassment and assault, but does delve slightly into politics, so if you don’t like it when I write about politics, don’t read it. I’m not debating politics with anyone. Fair warning.

So, when is sexual assault and/or harassment acceptable to you, exactly?

When is it okay to sweep it under the rug?

When is is okay to brush allegations aside?

Is it when the perpetrator is white?

When the perpetrator is a Democrat?

A Republican?

When it’s someone who fought for civil rights?

When it’s someone from your party in an election?

A television personality?

A senator?

A representative?

An entertainment mogul?

A comedian?

A woman?

The President of the United States?

How do you decide whom to excuse and whom to condemn when the allegations begin to fly?

How do you choose which victims to believe and which to shun?

What is your reasoning? What does your heart say, no matter how much you want to fight against it? If your religion, politics, or family ties have anything to do with your decision on believing whether or not someone is a predator, that’s the wrong answer. Religion, politics, and family ties mean nothing to someone who’s been victimized, who’s been subjected to unwelcome advances, or worse.

I heard it said over and again that if allegations were true, victim(s) would have stepped forward immediately or much earlier than they do. False. One million percent false. I didn’t tell the majority of my family, including my husband, about my years of abuse because I thought no one would believe me. The truth made me sick and scared and the prospect of losing my family over it was terrifying, so I stayed silent. It wasn’t until I had my own child that I took that risk and revealed the truth. The thought of my son growing up in the shadow of a predator was worse than being alienated from the people I loved. Painful? Hell, yes. Necessary? Absolutely.

Like many girls, I was harassed in high school and in waitressing jobs that I had, mostly by customers making sick comments and once by a creepy dishwasher. One drunk actually grabbed me by my wrist, only to be thankfully removed from the restaurant by my friend. It was always uncomfortable, and sometimes scary, but I never really felt that I could say anything about it, except to friends or coworkers afterward. There were always customers we watched out for, asking the busboys or male waitstaff to stay close by. It still amazes me, and grosses me out, how some middle-aged men think it’s okay to make lewd comments about a teenage girl’s body, or about anyone’s body for that matter. It stays with a person, even after all this time. Remember that.

None of this is new, it’s been going on ever since there have been people. The difference now is that people are finally starting to speak out, we’re finally beginning to not be afraid of offending the powerful. Several giants have fallen in the last few months, most admitting to at least part of what they are accused of, some have admitted to everything. It’s been difficult to watch, even shocking sometimes, but necessary. Ugly secrets, even about the rich and powerful, have a way of coming out, sometimes years later. Nothing stays hidden forever.

When I talk about harassment or assault, I’m not talking about playful banter, or silliness between friends. I enjoy bawdy jokes as much as the next person, but the key to that is knowing when the other person is comfortable with it or not. If they’re not laughing, shut up and back off! Using your position or power to behave inappropriately toward someone else or to coerce them into sexual favors is WRONG. Don’t touch what you don’t have permission to touch.

Watching all of this happen just makes me angrier and angrier. I’m angry that allegations can be overlooked in order to beat out another political party. Just this morning, the¬†Today¬†show, which is going through its own crisis, revealed the 71% of Alabamian Republicans were planning on voting for Roy Moore, even with everything alleged against him. Even more sickening is that many of them profess to be Christian. How would Jesus, the champion of the downtrodden and voiceless, feel about this? At the very least, Christians should be asking for an investigation instead of instantly blaming the alleged victims.

Think for just a minute. What if he is voted in and later admits to everything? I have a feeling that he would still have supporters. After all, the prospect of what he allegedly did doesn’t seem to bother them one bit now. I don’t understand. People are willing to vote for a sleazeball into office even with some pretty strong testimony from several women about his actions in the past. Even with many in his party encouraging him to step down, more have stayed with him, someone with huge creeper potential, because they don’t want an evil Democrat in office. Barf.

For more info: https://www.snopes.com/2017/11/17/roy-moore-banned-mall-harassing-teen-girls/

Speaking of Democrats, several accusers have come forward against John Conyers, the longest-running person in the House of Representatives who conveniently retired today in the wake of many allegations of inappropriate behavior ranging from holding meetings in his underwear to groping. This stuff isn’t confined to one party, one religion, or race, folks. It’s widespread.

I’m angry and deeply disappointed that people I have admired or followed are now tainted. I’m angry that this culture exists. I’m angry that people think they have the right to abuse others. I’m angry that people are deceived, that lives are ruined. I’m angry that powerful abusers have supporters, excusers, sympathizers. I’m angry. I’m just…angry. Mad as hell, really.

Until we take a stand, until we say, “No more!”, until we knock the feet of clay out from under giant golden statues and give a voice to the wronged, the problem will go on. Force the ugliness out into the light so that it shrivels up and dies. Give victims a place to turn, educate our children, and make this world a better place. Don’t make excuses for bad behavior.

The world is a scary place these days and I’m really trying to stay positive.

Hang in there.

 

 

 

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