Survivor Stories The following are stories posted by other survivors. Writing is a great way to cope for some survivors. If you would like me to post your story please email me your story and let me know if you want your name and email address included in the post. Sitting here in front of the computer I find myself completely terrified of what I am about to do… tell my story. I do not know if I still carry around with me a fear of my abusers… or if I am somehow trying to protect them by not telling anyone. That frustrates me so much… the need I have to protect those who have hurt me. Why do I feel as if I have to guard them? I feel so scared to say this… and I hope I am able to do it right. Lets start from the middle... b/c this is really how I remembered things anyways. I moved 3000 miles away from home. I did this b/c it was time for me to go to college and I had been offered this really great scholarship that meant living away from home for a year... so I did it. I was 19. However while I was there I went from 2nd in the class to 12th. I started to loose a lot of my concentration and started to have bad dreams. My roommate asked me if I needed to maybe see someone about my dreams. I had not even told her I was having them… so I asked her why she knew. She said she just heard me some nights. Then I really began to open up to a young man I met and became friends with. All three of us soon realized that something had happened to me back home. Over time I realized I had been in an abusive relationship. That my B/f... lets call him J, had been very possessive and basically stocked me. As I began T at a rape crisis center, I began to realize he had sodomized me repeatedly. Stocked me. Cut me. Tied me up and done “things” to me. Raped and sodomized me with objects. Left me on the side of the road. He would say that I was “fucked up”, that I deserved to be raped. That I wanted this. That I needed this. That I had forced him to do all that he was doing b/c he was so jealous and could not help himself. That he was doing what I wanted. See I had never wanted to have sex with him. I felt I was too young and not ready. And whenever he did make out with me… it always felt wrong… and I felt scared. I hated it when he touched me b/t my legs. However he took my voice away from me. To make matters worse he was 2 years older than me and working as a “cop”. Any time I felt close to being able to get away and tell someone… I always ran into one of his little friends on the department. This happened over a 4-year period of time. Since I was 15 or so. J would be able to “catch” me 1 time a week if I was lucky but normally 2-3 times. The amazing thing is that somehow my mind had just blocked all this out... even as soon as it happened. During my senior year of high school I finally broke up with him… I was not upset by the break up... relived actually… but I never understood why. The only real break in the abuse that I got was when I was 17. I came down with mono. J only came over a few times then. But once I started getting better he came over more, but usually I was to weak to even notice. I often wonder how many times I just slept thro it cause I was so sick. But after I recovered from mono, my breaking up with him just made things worse. He felt more free to hurt me and follow me around until he could handcuff me and take me someplace to tie me up and rape/sodomize me for 16 or so hours. He really loved it when he could get to me during lunch so he could take me to his dad’s place and keep me there till 2 or 3 am. That way mom would still think he was a good for getting me home. Finally I realized that he is why I had moved away. I had moved away for college... not realizing I was running away from him. When I came back to start school when I was 20 I was terrified of seeing him again. I was so concerned that he would hunt me again and hurt me. But I felt ready to take him on and ready to fight back. When I moved back I also remembered new things. After all I was (and still am) sleeping in a bed… in a house that many of the rapes had taken place in. That is when I remembered a miscarriage I had had. Blood pouring down b/t my legs... my stomach cramping... me falling to the floor in pain. Wondering if the bleeding was going to stop. All this in the bathroom of a restaurant. Him finding me and taking me on a drive to the mountains... not wanting my parents to find out. Finally over 3 days the bleeding slowed and stopped. He told me it was a bad period. I believe him. Remembering the miscarriage was also a big break thro for me b/c it is when I realized he had raped me vaginally, not just anally. Somehow I always told myself that he really hadn’t raped me b/c it had not been vaginal rape. That I could still call myself a virgin and be fine and not have to get that upset over everything. I guess I always thought that once I had sex it would mean that I didn’t have the right to choose not to have sex. It was very hard for me to admit that I had gotten raped. Most of the time I still tell myself it wasn’t that bad cause I don’t have any complete memories of that kind of rape. Anyways... Dec 12, 2000 a friend came by. I have known him for 6 years. Lets call him A. He came by and brought me a gift. He knew about J and that he had sodomized me. I had always considered him one of my closest friends. I had even dated him for a short while immediately after I “broke” up with J. While I was getting A a drink he started to touch me. I thought he was playing around so I told him to knock it off. I had 2 finals the next day and a paper to write. He kept persisting… finally I threw him against a wall. It broke my light switch. He said sorry. I told him sorry for hurting his back. After all I had dated him… him playing around like he was shouldn’t have been a big deal. Right? I was on my way to the bathroom when he attacked me. As soon as he started to go behind me I shut down and stopped fighting. I went into shock. I do not remember most of the attack... I just knew when he got off me and yelled at me like he was really angry. Then I heard the door slam. For the first time in my life I actually called someone rather than just forgetting about it. When I was done talking to her hung up and finished my paper. The next day I took my final... do not remember taking it but I did well. Then I went to get help. My best friend and a teacher really pushed me to go to the hospital. I was in so much pain. I could not sit… and I was still bleeding. My friend finally talked me into going because she said they would give me lots of pain meds. At the point in time anything to help the pain sounded like it was worth going to the hospital. I got a rape kit done. The doc. said vaginal penetration took place too… but I do not remember that. My anus was ripped. They wanted to give me stitches. I said no... After all ... it was not half as bad as what J had done to me… and I had lived thro that just fine with out any medical attention. School got hard… decided to take time off... I was having memories of being hurt again… only while I was younger. I did not understand any of it b/c as far as I knew I had never been molested. In JAN I tried to kill myself. Shortly after I started T two times a week. I got more and still continue to have more memories. Of being kissed... touched… having oral sex done to me. Of someone making me touch someone else. All of this by a girl. A classmate. I think I was 6-7 and that it lasted for a while. She was hurting her sister too. These memories from when I was little made sense. Now I knew why I was afraid and felt nervous, terrified when J had tried to make out with me when I was in High School. I was not fucked up b/c I did not like what he was doing... I just had been hurt and molested. And even if I had not been hurt... he had no right to do what he did. Sick bastard. I also finally knew why I had never been able to make friends when I was little. Why I was afraid to trust ppl… especially girls. I also knew why I got anxious around women. Although I am not scared of them as much.. I still have problems trusting. Now I am 20. I am in T two times a week. I hope to be able to go back to school soon. I cannot sleep. I have panic attacks. I mood swing. I have PTSD. I am on a med. I have night mirrors. No one in my family knows. I am alone. I am afraid of ppl. Both women and men. I am shut down emotionally. Pretty much numb to the world except for those terrifying moments when I seem to loose control and just want to kill myself to end all the pain I feel. All three of these ppl had NO RIGHT to do what they did to me. I have been hurt and hurt again. I have been lied to and told that everything was my fault. Most days I still think it was. I wish I could say that I really believed that nothing that has happened was my fault… but that is far from the truth. No matter how I seem to cut it… no matter how many ppl tell me it wasn’t… I still hate myself for everything that has happened. I seem incapable of being angry ant the ppl who took who I had the right to be: Incapable of being angry at the ppl who killed me. One day I hope to sit back and say “I did it! I am better now and yes I will always be a survivor but things are not so bad now. I can live with what happened and accept myself for who I am and the way I coped and survived.” With the support of friends and loved ones I am slowly learning how to live again. Chris Haullie's Survivor Story Try to close your eyes for a moment and imagine a young girl, eleven years old. This was me............ I was a very young girl, innocent to the world I had not yet discovered. From what I can remember I had always been the little girl willing to try new things. I dabbled in some reading, inventing, singing, ect. In my world, there was always something to do and somewhere to go. After my rape I had no where to go but inside my own mind. Hiding my secret from the world for ten years. Only telling who I must like friends so that I could get through the day without a tear in my eye. I never really cried much about the rape, but I did on the other hand feel the pain every single day. There was not one single day that went by when I didn't remember it. Every time I took a shower I would look down at the drain and still see the blood washing away. How I wanted so badly to scoop it up and put it back into my body. But I knew it was only a dream of mine. I thought to myself, "Why can't I just go back in time and run away from home?" This way it would never have happened to me. But that would just leave another girl who ran away. I am glad to have survived. I do know now that If I would have ran away I was facing the risk of being raped on the streets, possibly kidnapped and killed.anything could have happened. I thank God every day for him giving me the chance to keep going on with life because essentially that is what is important to me. That I did survive. That I do not call myself a victim. I use to call myself a victim of rape when I was younger because I knew I was. But now I see it as only being a victim at the time of the rape. But ultimately when you live after it is over and done with, you can proudly say you have survived. Yes I have survived. I survived the rape of my Step Father when I was eleven years old. It was about three days before Halloween. I had gotten my costume ready like all the other little children in our apartment complex. I had some friends who were going to be angels and ghosts, witches and goblins. I had to make my costume. I thought the color black was neat and decided to be a dead person because I had absolutely no other idea for my costume. Well, it was three days before Halloween and I walked into our apartment from the hot day. My Mother was not there for a few months because my Step Father put drugs in her purse and she was stopped on the free way by the police and had to go to jail for a very long time which to me as a child seemed like an eternity. So I had to stay in this place with "Him" which was pure torture. I will just get strait to the point. When I walked into the door, I was wearing my little black dress. It was actually kind of pleasant that day. The California sun made it very hot outside but the air conditioner inside was a nice surprise to walk into. I guess I was out playing with the other kids. My boyfriend/neighbor of I had just got done becoming blood brothers. We both cut our hands at the palms and rubbed them together. So when I came through the door, all I wanted was to bandage up a bit. It was just a childish thing. I saw my Step Father come out of the bathroom and turn in my direction. I walked up to him to go to the bathroom and wash up. Then I noticed he was wearing nothing but some see thorough black briefs. His privates were very visible and very erect but at the time I had no idea what that meant. I had no idea what sex was or about the anatomy and how it reacts. So I tried not to pay any attention to it. I thought that maybe he was just getting comfortable because of the heat. Then he looked at me. He didn't touch me at all at this point. He said "Come into the bathroom, we have to talk about something." I had seen my Mother beaten so many times by this man that I feared if I would have said no that I might be beaten as well. He had hit me a few times but I knew if I did anything wrong it could have gotten even worse. So I went into the bathroom with him. He closed the door behind me and told me, "Your Mom told me to teach you about sex. You see this, this is a penis and you have a vagina." He showed "It" to me but I couldn't look at it. Then he said something else. "Now, listen to me, I told your sister in law (I wont use names) the same thing when she was young. I could demonstrate but you can say no if you want, she said no." She was his real daughter. I figured that since she said no, I had the same right because that is what he said. From this moment I knew my Mom had nothing to do with this. She wouldn't ever put me in danger and she was the protector not the inflictor. So I said "No" and started to walk away when he said something I will never forget. "Well, this is what your Mom wants so I have to anyway." I was then pushed up to the counter next to the sink and my legs were spread. He then raped me. It was very painful. I honestly thought I was dying. I remembered how slow it was. As if he wanted the moment to last longer. I looked over at the curtain at the shower and craved the shower when It was going to be over at last. I looked up at the mirror at myself, but was it really me? I didn't understand who I was nor did I recognize my own face. After he was done with me. I felt my own blood trickle down my leg. I didn't know what had happen. In fact, I didn't actually know for two years. He finished and told me something else I will never forget. "Don't tell your Mom, just keep quiet." So gullible I was to fear the hands of that man. Out of fear that he would cause me more pain again, I did not tell anyone and even when he was out of my Mom's life for good still I was afraid to say anything because I felt she would not believe me. I got up after he had raped me and I pulled up my underwear and pulled down my black dress. I had to wash the blood from the counter with tissue. I flushed it all away down the toilet. I watched as my first blood has circled around and around and around, down the toilet like it was nothing but waste. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought about how ugly I was. Now I knew what it felt like to feel ugly all over. I could barely walk because I felt bruised from the inside. I felt torn from the outside in. As if he'd turned me inside out like a dirty pillow case in which you are too lazy to wash out. I remembered how horrible Halloween was. Athena took me trick or treating. I felt bad in black because I was raped in black but there was nothing I could do. I was three days fresh of the rape so walking from place to place was hiddenly sore. I was in so much young pain. The kind of pain that was reaching into the heart and out on the flesh. Throughout all of this pain I was feeling, all I could think about was one thing, my Mother. I wanted her to hold me close to her and tell me it was okay. She always had this Motherly scent to her which I craved so much. I just wanted to lay in her arms. This was the most devastating part of my life. So I thought. I had a whole life ahead of me and I soon realized this. Yes, I have slowly been recovering. I have been through my share of depression, molestation, masochism, suicidal thoughts. I guess it comes with the territory. But I believe that through my story and others like it that I will be able to reach out. It was the basis around 'All These Years'. To share and have others share. This way we are are in a circle helping each other find they're way through life's huge struggle. Because I had such wonderful friends who believed in me, I believe in others. Because I found Tori Amos when a family member gave me her tape at the age of 15, I found strength through her music. Through friends, support, Tori Amos and my own will I found the hope I had longed for. I truly feel that others can have this as well. Lets seek life together. The more we live, the more we can fight to progress. Women and Men are raped every day. With the time that it takes you to brush your teeth, another Woman or Man in America is being raped. As Tori Amos would say it, it is time to unlock the silence. I understand this now. That unlocking the silence does not only mean that we should unlock the silence from within us, but we need to unlock the silence that allows these rapists to keep doing what they do. By spreading the word about rapists, creating more safety tips to protect us all we can eventually put them in jail where they belong and protect ourselves so that it won't happen again, or to our children, our nieces and nephews, sisters, mothers, aunts..whoever. Lets stand together finally. I remember someone saying to me once that there were too many sites our there dedicated to Rape & Abuse and that one more won't make any difference. That only made me want to contribute this site even more. This isn't just another rape & abuse survival site. This is my rape & abuse survivor site. Even if I touch a few hearts, even if I can help to save a few lives. At least I have done that much. And that is enough to circle this world over and over until we all know inside that we have the gift of healing and recovery. It is up to us to chose whether we want to walk the right path. The path to unlocking the silence. To come out of the nest, it's time, as Tori Amos said in the song 'Mother" which was my hero song. I hope through my word I have reached many. I do not ask to be praised highly for this. Please know I will be here for you to help you heal and help you get the right kind of support you need. It was given to me by so many supporters I have became great friends with. I know it can happen for you. Believe in yourself and anything can happen. You are my friends. Love & Support ~Haullie