Losing safety. Being afraid. Why did it happen.
locked in pain
locked inside my body
sometimes I wonder if my body's slowly rotting
darkness outside feeds the darkness within
my hands hurt
my legs hurt
my soul hurts
i hate my medication
but it gives my pain satiation
when it's gone
I can barely move
I can really feel
life is cold and unreal
but so many times
and so many days
I wonder why.
will I find someone
cause now I need someone
to hold me
and tell me i'll be ok
someone to bring me up when i'm down
cause I hide behind the tears of a clown
physical, emotional, and mental pain
an unholy trinity
with it's epicenter in my very soul
I wanna be normal
I wanted to be free
I wanted to be normal
and I asked god to help me
why
why
why
Fascinating right? I don't consider it some of my best work and it's not getting saved anywhere other than live journal. I realized something. Yes I do feel real alone sometimes, but...I'm not that despondent. I haven't been for awhile. I hurt horribly right now, but...I can try rationing out painkillers tomorrow. I'm on adderol now, and that will increse my focus and also help to rid some of my medical weight gain. I have physical therapy, which not only is helping me feel less pain, but I get some of the same satisfaction and possibly benefits as i used to during my anorexia fueled workouts. Also, now that I'm on a medication that helps my metabolism, I can let go of some of the guilt that i still internalise when I eat. It also means that I won't find myself skipping meals because i'm scared of gaining more weight. Anorexia runs real deep in me. I starved myself for almost six months straight, and hardly ever had anything solid. I remember living off liquids for 27 days straight. I decided to start eating again and went full vegetarian except for the occasional seafood meal.
Then.....it happened. February 2009.....strangely enough after a religious experience in Asia where I had finally let go of feeling dirty from past sexual abuse. A horrible friend, crys of no, drugs slipped into my drink"She's a lesbian and a virgin".....and well any survivor knows the rest. I suddenly started gaining weight...and I didn't have the energy to starve myself again. I made horrible choices, and people took constant advantage of me as I was very vulnerable and completely unhinged from reality. I kept gaining weight. People can't even imagine how small I used to be and I really can't remember. I felt beautiful....and clean. Clean and pure....and beautiful. It's amazing what someone can take away from a young girl. I fought for the next year to not feel dirty again, and the only thing that really helped with that is I was able to keep them away from the "v". Not really anything else, and memories are scant due to the date rape drugs, and sometimes that is the most frightening of all is how many gaps there are in that night. I don't feel safe. That was the one thing they manage to take away from me. I don't feel safe. And it has also caused an almost love affair with being a proud lesbian....to that word leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I try to be out as much as I can....but i still cringe at that night as two of the things I used to wear as a badge of pride....I don't really cling to as much anymore.
I'm not despondent as I was at the time....But no one was there for me at the time. An ex even told me that the entire lesbian/drag community decided I was making it up because I actually admit what happened. Seriously? I must be "lying" about being raped.....because I ADMIT IT HAPPENED TO ME????? Is this really the world we live in? And if I was going to make something up.....wouldn't I make something up more concrete?????? The only reason I even went to the hospital was because some counselor at SCC had convince me I could have an STD, and should go get checked. The hospital was awful, the police were awful, and it was 5 hours spent reliving every second of what I could remember while hospital staff constantly ignored me, and chastised me for crying on the phone. ALONE in a hospital for 6 hours....they wouldn't let me leave until the police got there. I think they even mentioned using force to keep me at the hospital if I tried to leave. I couldn't get ahold of anyone who actually wanted to stay on the phone with me....which made the pain and angst I was feeling far worse. I was told by the police who were really rude and nasty to me, that since I had all these gaps in my memory the only thing they could pin them for was "sexual harassment" At that point I was so frightened and so worn out by the whole thing.....I was scared they would come after me if I pressed charges. And No one was nice to me. Law enforcement, hospital staff, detectives.....a few people were "polite" but no one was nice to me.
It was awful. The aftermath was almost as bad as what happened. The "friend" who told the men I was a lesbian and a virgin, got more abusive and even tried to bring one of the men that was there that night to my apartment. I was so beyond fucked up i wasn't able to cut her out until an ex(who also took advantage of my vulnerable state) pointed out that my friend let it happen. She told me she heard me say "no" but it didn't sound forceful enough...so she ignored it. Yes. She did let it happen.
2 years later I watch a performance of the Vagina Monologues and it all comes pouring back. Truth is...it didn't ever leave. I still don't feel safe. And it still feels so hard to find someone I can talk to that can really listen and be there for me.
It doesn't go away. It took years to get over what happened when I was 9. I also had quite a few....unwilling things happen when left home. As well as being indiscriminate with who I slept with. I didn't care about my body at all, I felt completely dirty so why did it matter who I slept with. I felt dirty. Dirty and Dirty. And I had severe medical weight gain....I starved myself. Went from 275 to 198, and still had people calling me fat. More actually. But after spending multiple times in Buddhist temples throughout Thailand, walking 10-12 miles a day and dancing around naked in my hotel room to Black Sabbath and Plumb; I felt clean. I wanted to tell everyone....I wanted to tell the world how happy I was with me. And people were actually checking me out again. I was so happy that I wanted to suck in each days air with a heart full of fire and life. I was sexy...and I knew it. More importantly I had so much energy! I was smiling all the time. Not three weeks after I returned was when it happened. :( Somehow this silly little emoticon seems to express everything.
I refused to allow myself to feel dirty, but my vulnerability allowed me to be manipulated quite a bit. And when I should have been at the top of my world....I was to busy fighting not to feel dirty again to realize how many people were taking advantage of me and that I had very few friends. I don't when I stopped fighting...but I'm not sure i feel clean and pure. I don't think i feel dirty but some days i don't know. I don't feel safe. I really don't feel safe. And that is what is scariest of all. My best point of pride was that I always felt like I could protect myself and others...and I couldn't when it counted. To add insult to deep psychological scars, the "friend" who let it happen said she no longer felt protected around me. I don't remember when she said it, it could have been before or after. I was in contact with her 6 months after the incident, with her getting more and more distant. She was good at crushing my self esteem. And my self esteem was nil. Other than a drunken night or two at a bar with girls who were straight, no one seemed interested in me. I was so happy with my body, and the only people who showed a strong interest were two gross men who wanted to make crude jokes about me being gay and force themselves on me...
No one showed any type of strong interest in me...and I really needed someone at the time. Not an abusive ex who made it very clear that the men she was doing was way more important than me even if she had missed me and loved me...and well. I was vulnerable. And she's the same one who said she questioned whether or not it happened cause "people don't talk about rapes" Well I needed to!!! I needed someone to love me and hold me and tell me I was ok!!! I needed someone to tell me I was beautiful and attractive and lovely and sweet. I needed someone that made me feel safe, and not scared everytime I'm alone in my apartment. And not worried that sometime it's just gonna happen again cause I can't protect myself...I'm 275 pounds and 5'10" and I can't protect myself. Height doesn't equal protection...cause I couldn't protect myself. It was okay when I couldn't protect myself when I was 9...It was horrible awful, and never ending and scary and frightening, but I was 9! I wasn't an adult...I wasn't an adult who should have been able to protect herself. I don't feel like I am safe anymore. It was scary...but I can't think of any situation where I really needed to protect myself that I was able to. I at least kept them from touching my "v". I think......no...I know. I would have fought with my last breath to keep them off of it...I couldn't protect any other part of my body. But I protected my virginity. At least that's what i tell myself as i am made chillingly aware of one of the main reasons I have no attraction to men.
My last name is Sha'yera. Don't ever call me Shakira...ever. That's what they called me. I am still very frightened....because until that day I really didn't have that much fear. I felt like I could protect myself. And now I just want someone to hold me and tell me everything will be ok.
locked inside my body
sometimes I wonder if my body's slowly rotting
darkness outside feeds the darkness within
my hands hurt
my legs hurt
my soul hurts
i hate my medication
but it gives my pain satiation
when it's gone
I can barely move
I can really feel
life is cold and unreal
but so many times
and so many days
I wonder why.
will I find someone
cause now I need someone
to hold me
and tell me i'll be ok
someone to bring me up when i'm down
cause I hide behind the tears of a clown
physical, emotional, and mental pain
an unholy trinity
with it's epicenter in my very soul
I wanna be normal
I wanted to be free
I wanted to be normal
and I asked god to help me
why
why
why
Fascinating right? I don't consider it some of my best work and it's not getting saved anywhere other than live journal. I realized something. Yes I do feel real alone sometimes, but...I'm not that despondent. I haven't been for awhile. I hurt horribly right now, but...I can try rationing out painkillers tomorrow. I'm on adderol now, and that will increse my focus and also help to rid some of my medical weight gain. I have physical therapy, which not only is helping me feel less pain, but I get some of the same satisfaction and possibly benefits as i used to during my anorexia fueled workouts. Also, now that I'm on a medication that helps my metabolism, I can let go of some of the guilt that i still internalise when I eat. It also means that I won't find myself skipping meals because i'm scared of gaining more weight. Anorexia runs real deep in me. I starved myself for almost six months straight, and hardly ever had anything solid. I remember living off liquids for 27 days straight. I decided to start eating again and went full vegetarian except for the occasional seafood meal.
Then.....it happened. February 2009.....strangely enough after a religious experience in Asia where I had finally let go of feeling dirty from past sexual abuse. A horrible friend, crys of no, drugs slipped into my drink"She's a lesbian and a virgin".....and well any survivor knows the rest. I suddenly started gaining weight...and I didn't have the energy to starve myself again. I made horrible choices, and people took constant advantage of me as I was very vulnerable and completely unhinged from reality. I kept gaining weight. People can't even imagine how small I used to be and I really can't remember. I felt beautiful....and clean. Clean and pure....and beautiful. It's amazing what someone can take away from a young girl. I fought for the next year to not feel dirty again, and the only thing that really helped with that is I was able to keep them away from the "v". Not really anything else, and memories are scant due to the date rape drugs, and sometimes that is the most frightening of all is how many gaps there are in that night. I don't feel safe. That was the one thing they manage to take away from me. I don't feel safe. And it has also caused an almost love affair with being a proud lesbian....to that word leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I try to be out as much as I can....but i still cringe at that night as two of the things I used to wear as a badge of pride....I don't really cling to as much anymore.
I'm not despondent as I was at the time....But no one was there for me at the time. An ex even told me that the entire lesbian/drag community decided I was making it up because I actually admit what happened. Seriously? I must be "lying" about being raped.....because I ADMIT IT HAPPENED TO ME????? Is this really the world we live in? And if I was going to make something up.....wouldn't I make something up more concrete?????? The only reason I even went to the hospital was because some counselor at SCC had convince me I could have an STD, and should go get checked. The hospital was awful, the police were awful, and it was 5 hours spent reliving every second of what I could remember while hospital staff constantly ignored me, and chastised me for crying on the phone. ALONE in a hospital for 6 hours....they wouldn't let me leave until the police got there. I think they even mentioned using force to keep me at the hospital if I tried to leave. I couldn't get ahold of anyone who actually wanted to stay on the phone with me....which made the pain and angst I was feeling far worse. I was told by the police who were really rude and nasty to me, that since I had all these gaps in my memory the only thing they could pin them for was "sexual harassment" At that point I was so frightened and so worn out by the whole thing.....I was scared they would come after me if I pressed charges. And No one was nice to me. Law enforcement, hospital staff, detectives.....a few people were "polite" but no one was nice to me.
It was awful. The aftermath was almost as bad as what happened. The "friend" who told the men I was a lesbian and a virgin, got more abusive and even tried to bring one of the men that was there that night to my apartment. I was so beyond fucked up i wasn't able to cut her out until an ex(who also took advantage of my vulnerable state) pointed out that my friend let it happen. She told me she heard me say "no" but it didn't sound forceful enough...so she ignored it. Yes. She did let it happen.
2 years later I watch a performance of the Vagina Monologues and it all comes pouring back. Truth is...it didn't ever leave. I still don't feel safe. And it still feels so hard to find someone I can talk to that can really listen and be there for me.
It doesn't go away. It took years to get over what happened when I was 9. I also had quite a few....unwilling things happen when left home. As well as being indiscriminate with who I slept with. I didn't care about my body at all, I felt completely dirty so why did it matter who I slept with. I felt dirty. Dirty and Dirty. And I had severe medical weight gain....I starved myself. Went from 275 to 198, and still had people calling me fat. More actually. But after spending multiple times in Buddhist temples throughout Thailand, walking 10-12 miles a day and dancing around naked in my hotel room to Black Sabbath and Plumb; I felt clean. I wanted to tell everyone....I wanted to tell the world how happy I was with me. And people were actually checking me out again. I was so happy that I wanted to suck in each days air with a heart full of fire and life. I was sexy...and I knew it. More importantly I had so much energy! I was smiling all the time. Not three weeks after I returned was when it happened. :( Somehow this silly little emoticon seems to express everything.
I refused to allow myself to feel dirty, but my vulnerability allowed me to be manipulated quite a bit. And when I should have been at the top of my world....I was to busy fighting not to feel dirty again to realize how many people were taking advantage of me and that I had very few friends. I don't when I stopped fighting...but I'm not sure i feel clean and pure. I don't think i feel dirty but some days i don't know. I don't feel safe. I really don't feel safe. And that is what is scariest of all. My best point of pride was that I always felt like I could protect myself and others...and I couldn't when it counted. To add insult to deep psychological scars, the "friend" who let it happen said she no longer felt protected around me. I don't remember when she said it, it could have been before or after. I was in contact with her 6 months after the incident, with her getting more and more distant. She was good at crushing my self esteem. And my self esteem was nil. Other than a drunken night or two at a bar with girls who were straight, no one seemed interested in me. I was so happy with my body, and the only people who showed a strong interest were two gross men who wanted to make crude jokes about me being gay and force themselves on me...
No one showed any type of strong interest in me...and I really needed someone at the time. Not an abusive ex who made it very clear that the men she was doing was way more important than me even if she had missed me and loved me...and well. I was vulnerable. And she's the same one who said she questioned whether or not it happened cause "people don't talk about rapes" Well I needed to!!! I needed someone to love me and hold me and tell me I was ok!!! I needed someone to tell me I was beautiful and attractive and lovely and sweet. I needed someone that made me feel safe, and not scared everytime I'm alone in my apartment. And not worried that sometime it's just gonna happen again cause I can't protect myself...I'm 275 pounds and 5'10" and I can't protect myself. Height doesn't equal protection...cause I couldn't protect myself. It was okay when I couldn't protect myself when I was 9...It was horrible awful, and never ending and scary and frightening, but I was 9! I wasn't an adult...I wasn't an adult who should have been able to protect herself. I don't feel like I am safe anymore. It was scary...but I can't think of any situation where I really needed to protect myself that I was able to. I at least kept them from touching my "v". I think......no...I know. I would have fought with my last breath to keep them off of it...I couldn't protect any other part of my body. But I protected my virginity. At least that's what i tell myself as i am made chillingly aware of one of the main reasons I have no attraction to men.
My last name is Sha'yera. Don't ever call me Shakira...ever. That's what they called me. I am still very frightened....because until that day I really didn't have that much fear. I felt like I could protect myself. And now I just want someone to hold me and tell me everything will be ok.