Today's Headlines.....

This is a story.... fit for today's headlines.. only not.

I am a nobody!  I am not famous.  I have no claim to fame.  That said.. #metoo

I have several bad things to survive in my life.  But the one that haunts me, that I can't get passed, happened at a small party given by a close friend.  I got shitty dunk.  I did.  Eventually I found my way to my friend's bed   I was safe.  A man, we will call him B.  B and his family lived with me.  For some time.  I have blogged about a few different things .... but this one has always been the one I can't move past.   It was done by someone I trusted and thought of as a brother.

Before I tell it...again....  let me just say this..  This is not new story.  This is a time old story....



Took said "brother" to a party with me.  We were all friends.  I got drunk  Many got drunk and high.  I was against that.  I found my way to my friend's room to pass out..... with his blessing.  Bunk beds.  I was on the bottom.  "B" came in and asked to lay down next to me.  I made room.  Last of my clear memories. 


I awoke some time later screaming for friend Mike.  I had no clothes on from the waist down.  I was swore and hurting.  He came in and helped me find my clothes and comforted me.  He and several others confirmed one else was in the room that night. 

I felt humiliated.  I felt used.  Why couldn't I remember?  Why did my vagina hurt?  Where were my clothes?  This couldn't be happening! 

It took a lot of convincing....and a phone call to the hospital before I was able to shower.  Good tip...can't get a rape kit without police involvement.  "B" lived with us..... with his family.  His mom was my mom's best friend.  I couldn't do it. 

Finally I showered, laid down in "c's" room with him guarding me.  He gave me some pain pills and I cried myself to sleep.  In the morning "B" found another way home.

When I got home, I came clean.  I told family, mine and his, about the night before.  They ALL defended him.  He got home first. He told them we were both drunk and God knows what else. I was told it was my fault for drinking too much, in so many words.  Really?  I trusted him!!!  How was this my fault.  He had been living in MY HOME as a brother for over a year? 

I remember him talking and me saying goodnight.  Then waking up violated.  The thing is, we are seeing more and more that this is not an isolated thing, but rather a norm....if you will.  It has to stop.

Rape culture is real folks.  People want to defend the predators so their reality isn't changed.  It's too hard to face for them.  They can't even imagine what it's like to be the actual victim.  Just knowing one is too hard to fathom.  They don't know how to live in a reality of a world different then what they know.

My family hurt me beyond imaginable taking his side.  It took years for me to move past it.  And truth be told, it still hurts.  I choose to move passed it.  But I will never forget.  Ever.  Not what he did, and tried to cover up.  He knows "the truth I could tell".  I won't forget how they wanted to protect him rather than believe me.  I will never ever forget you cannot trust anyone.  I won't forget a loved one's words about how a drunk woman pretty much is responsible and asks for it.

This is just one of a few stories I could I tell.... the marine who wouldn't take no for answer, the pastor's son who molested me, being choked by a stalker, the co-worker how pinned me against an wall and fondled me.... And so on.  I am not special.  You have no idea how many woman/girls have lived though similar things or worse.  Truthfully, I am just one of millions....world wide. 

What about those married as child brides with no choice?  Those sex trafficked?  Those who thought their boyfriend loved them and took something from them without consent?  What about so many women/girls?

There are so many scenarios.....

To "B".... what you do if it was one of your daughters who came home after party with my story?  A man they trusted raped them while they were out cold with no memory?  They were too drunk and passed out to consent?

I pray you look at your past actions and atone for them.  I will never forgive you.  I knew you.  I lived with you.  I trusted you.  You were my brother.  And you hurt me.  God forgive me, but I don't know that I can ever forgive you because of who you were and what you meant to me.  I pray you daughters never know the pain. 

I still have nightmares. 

Men...boys.. if she is too drunk to stand needs to pass out, she is too drunk to consent.  If she is not conscious and talking, it's rape. 

Am I damaged?  Yes.  Many reasons why, but all my assaults....have me still thinking I am only a piece of meat.  I have no value.  And I am working hard on that.  Really hard.  But it affects so much of life.... even where you wouldn't believe.  How can I be a good mom when I am so very damaged and not worth respect or love?  And that is just one of hundreds of questions I ask myself daily.

What you do today has lasting effects.  Choose wisely. 

In hope

It's amazing how things can change.

I truly thought my marriage was over.  All was lost.  Blah blah blah.  I am sure you have heard it all before....

And yet...

Things are never as done as we think they are, are they?

We have a long way to go, for sure.  But I am thankful for what we have been through, for it gives us strength to get through this now.  And it is.  Every day we go stronger....individually and as a couple.  Every day we learn to love each other all over again.  Or at least I do. 

I understand the point the vows now.  Better or worse.  Sicker or poorer. And so on.  I promised myself to this man...not matter what.  And him to me.  We and have stayed together because of those vows...because of the kids....

Vows make you stick with it.  Even when it's easier to just give up.  It makes you try, one more time, even if you're not sure what is in your heart. 

That is marriage.  It is the good and blissfully wonderful.  And it's also the bad, ugly, and terrible you don't want to live through sometimes. 

But your vows... keep you pushing forward in the darkest of times.   They keep a hope in your heart. 

I don't know what my future holds anymore.  I really and truly don't. But I am thankful for the reminders of vows.  I am hopeful for my future, my family's future.  And I am committed to taking life one day at time.... in hope.

A Letter to "You" :

Dear You,

All my worst fears have come true.   We have tried to save this so many times.  But it never sticks.  So when this ends, I don't think it will be a surprise to you.  Although I am sure to you, it will be all my fault.

A marriage cannot survive when only one person tries.  You were never willing to put forth any effort unless I did so first.  And when work and games got in the way, and I felt neglected, I no longer felt like trying.  So you would just give up too, instead of fighting for us.  I was never worth your effort. 

I have lived through you screaming at me, cornering me, throwing furniture, that one New Year's Eve where I was lucky to wake up, lucky to have lived.  Between you and Chris E. from my past, I no longer can stand anyone putting anything around my neck.  I do try and wear necklaces, but it's so very hard now.  And most recently, when I was pushed to the ground and into a parked car, for trying to help you, I think that was it for me. 

I am not blameless.  Our fights only escalated over the years.  But I can no longer be the only one willing to try or put in effort first.  I can no longer live with the constant fighting and immaturity level.  And yes, I fight back now.   Which only makes you dislike me even more.  I don't just take it and cry.  I will never cry again.  Not because of you.  And I haven't cried because of you in a very long time.  I will no longer be made to feel like I am worthless unless I am wanted for sex. 

I will no longer stand for you emotional blackmail when arguments are not going your way and you can't handle the truth in front of you.  I am tired of you saying you will kill yourself when you just can't handle the truth.  I don't feel bad when you say that.  All it does is piss me off, because I let it make me feel bad for far to long.  It's just something you say to emotionally manipulate me and the situation.  Which is why the last time you "threatened" it, I told you to go ahead and do it.  I called your bluff.

I will no longer be subject all your broken promises and things you said you will do, but never do.  You are not now, nor have you ever been dependable or a man of your word.

This is not the life I wanted.  I wanted a husband who put me and our family first.  Not just financially, but in all areas.  All you could see were the dollar signs, as long as you were providing money, you figured you were doing your job.  There is more to being a husband and father than making money.

Don't get me wrong, we were grateful!  And still are and always will be.  Your sacrifice allowed the kids and me to have a good life outside of you.  But you weren't there emotionally.  You came home and checked out on to your computer or work.  You never made any family plans.  You never put us first except financially.

Is it any wonder that I fell out of love?  And as the years past, you did too.  But honestly, I don't think you were ever in love.

Did we make a mistake all those years ago getting married?  No.  I wouldn't trade our children in for anything.  Did we make a mistake staying together for so long?  I don't know.

I know you know this thing is on it's way out.  And I know you don't care.  If you did, you'd be trying.  But you aren't.  You are just wanting the misery to end and be over with, same as me.

I thought we were staying together for the kids.  That's what we both tell ourselves.  But are we really doing them any favors?  Maybe we are.  They have a good home, great schools, and lack for nothing.  So, we both do our best to pretend.

I am exhausted and tired of pretending.  I am tired of trying.  I am tired of having to be the first one to try, when I feel in my heart it should be you trying.  You trying to show me you do love and care for me outside of being the mother of your kids, or wanting to have sex.  But you could never do that.  Ever.  In almost 20 years of marriage.

My 40th birthday is coming up.  And the biggest present I can give myself is the truth, to face it head on and quit pretending anything is ever going to change or get better.  It never does. 

I think we both know this is over.  It's only a matter of time.

I wish you no ill will.  You have been a big part of my life for almost half of it.  I hope when the final nail is put in this marriage's coffin, we can walk away friends.  For the sake of our kids, for the sake of all we have been through together.  I will always love you, as you are the father of my children.  But don't we both deserve some happiness before it's too late?

I just can't do this much longer.  And neither can you.  Let's stop pretending and be honest with each other.  We owe ourselves and our family that much.

Rape and the way of the world.

God how I hate him.

Do you know?  Do you know or even care how you ruined my life?

You were like a brother to me.  And you knew it.  I called you my brother for Christ's sake.

When I was molested by the preacher's kid and his friend as a kid... I wanted to tell.  So bad.  But I was to scared and ashamed.

Then the marine at the party.... when I was in my late teens.  He didn't care to hear the word "no".  I tried to gloss it over.  But, it didn't work.  I tried not to believe it.  But which story was worse?  What he did to me?  Or the lie I told to try and believe it didn't happen?  When I finally tried to tell the truth, he didn't believe me.

Then there was you, Billy. My "brother", whom I loved as such.  You got drunk and smoked up that night.  I drank.  I drank  way too much.  I didn't do drugs and hated pot.  I went to pass out in my friend's bed.  A safe place.  Remember?  I know you do.

I remember you coming in and asking to lay down.  I trusted you.  How could you?  I remember we talked some... but then I went to sleep/passed out.  I remember waking up at one point, thinking you were touching me.  But you got still.  I thought it was just the booze messing with me and went back to sleep (passed back out).  I hazily remember you pulling out from behind cursing me under your breath.  Was that a bad dream?

No.  No it wasn't a bad dream.  I woke up... God only know when.... with my pants and panties missing.  Sore.

You raped me.  And you know it.

I screamed for help.  Mike came to my rescue and found my pants and panties.  Chris tried to get me to call the cops.  I called the hospital instead.  They wouldn't do a rape kit without calling the cops.  In my drunken state I thought I couldn't do this to my mom.  Her best friend's son.....  Chris finally let me shower, gave me pain pill and let me cry until I passed out while he kept watch.

I refused to give you a ride home the next day.  For the life of me I don't know why Mike gave you one.  When I got there, I was done holding my tongue.  Too many people in my life got away with hurting me.  Not just the one's named here, but a few others for other reasons.  I was done being a victim.  I finally confessed to my mom, and yours.  We lived together...all of us.

You had beaten me home.  You got them first.  You spun some kind of tale... I don't even know.  But they said you said you I might come home and blame you something.  And that you were too messed up.  And so was I.  I was literally told I may not be remembering things correctly.  And that whatever happened...IF... anything did (if... are you kidding me)....  it had to be my fault for drinking too.  They actually accused me of smoking up!  WTF!  Everyone knew that wasn't my thing.  It was the reason Lonnie and I failed.

Tell me this.... if you didn't do a damn thing wrong, why did you feel the need to go home and tell everyone something happened, but it wasn't your fault?  And why the fuck didn't anyone put that together?

You know what you did.  You know you raped me.  I was drunk. I was passed out.  And you didn't care.

You fucked up my life.  You were not some dumb kid.  You weren't a stranger.  You were my brother.  You lived in my home for a few years at this point.  Our moms were best friends.  How could you?

I forgave the preacher's son.  I have mostly forgave the marine ... the brother of a friend of a friend.  I mostly forgave my stalker who stole my car and my cat and threatened to rape to me and physically assaulted me and bullied me at school.  I have forgiven many people in my life... but you?  You I can't forgive. And I don't want too.  I trusted you.  I loved you like family.  How could you?

I tried to tell my story....and I wasn't believed.  I told my mom, yours (she lived with us and was there, but you got to them first didn't you?), and even my on and off again boyfriend.  I told him you hurt me.  You hurt me bad.  I cried each time I tried to tell my story.  It such a hard thing to admit too and tell.  No one believed me.

Congratulations.  You won.  Everyone wanted to believe you.  No one believed me.  Not one fucking person.  Except maybe Chris and Mike.  Mike being questionable...even though he was the one to find me in tears, screaming for help, and had to find my missing clothes.  The clothes I went to bed wearing and woke up missing.

The world... those I loved... wanted to believe you over me.  And the some still do.  Some still keep in touch with you.  But you and me?  We know different, don't we Billy Ray?  And deep down... so do some of them.

I understand why people don't come forward.  I tried, and no one believed me.  In my experience... I wouldn't advise any victim to ever come forward.  Ever.  Because if those who love you most don't believe you, who will?

You ruined my life.  I trust no one.  I can't watch certain movies or scenes because of you.  It brings back flash backs of spotty memory and pain.  I wake up from nightmares...even to this day.  I am scared to death for my 3 girls.  I try to warn them never to trust anyone...they think I am crazy.

You got the people I love to believe you over me, because you got them first.  And they never stopped to ask why that was.   My relationship with my mom and sisters is forever changed because of you.  You ruin lives, Billy.  That's what you do.

Am I crazy, Billy?  Am I?  The world was outraged at the guy who raped the passed out girl behind the dumpster.  Are you any better?  For raping a passed out girl in the bed next to you?   How come the world hates him, but loves you?  Wish I had some Swedish people to have saved me that night.

You are a fucking rapest.  Period.  The end.  You know it.  I know it.  I no longer need the world to believe me.  Because here's the thing... The truth is truth.  It doesn't change.  No matter what.  And you and I, we both know the truth.

I hate you.  I will always hate you.  I am suppose to forgive.  But I can't.  And I don't want too.  I want you to die a slow painful death.  But I'd settle for a long miserable life.

You are a monster.  You know it.  And I know it.  And no matter what the world chooses to believe, we know the truth.  You can't out run it.

The world is better off without you in it.  It's people like you ... you are the reason why people don't report more incidents of sexual assault and rape.

You are scum, a piece of shit.  You will never amount to thing because you are a loser who has to fuck passed out girls at parties in order to... what?  Get some?  Feel manly?  What?

Yes, Billy.  You fucked up my life and relationships (past and present).  But you weren't thinking of that were you?  Not when you had your dick inside a passed out girl.

I pray that your daughter never ever has to live through what you have put me through.  I pray she never knows the pain.  And never has the fucked up life that you have given me.

What would you do, Billy Ray, if someone did this to your daughter?

My life is forever changed because of you.  And not in a good way.  I pray I can teach my daughters so be more vigilant and never to trust a soul.  And I pray your daughter never knows this pain.

Fuck you Billy.  You spineless bastard.  You coward.  You rapist.