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When I was 14 years old, nine days before my 15th birthday; I had been with my first serious boyfriend for about 5 months. He had been pressuring me to have sex for 3 months, even though I was his first girlfriend. We were both virgins, and he didnt want to be anymore. Everytime he would ask me to have sex with him, I told him I wasnt ready yet. Well one evening when my mother wasnt home yet, we went into my bedroom, and we started making out.
I told him I didnt want to go any further...he didnt listen. I said stop and he continued. I cried and he told me that there was nothing to cry about and we were having a good time, although I wasnt. Afterwards, I cried. He was getting ready to leave. I got into the shower and scrubbed my body and tried to clean myself as much as I could. A few days later, he came back over and I told him I was scared he had gotten me pregnant, and he started pushing on my stomach and hitting it. I guess he thought that was how your supposed to get rid of another life, even though it wouldnt have worked that early. I cried myself asleep every night. I couldnt figure out why he had done that to me. He had stolen my virginity. I felt cheated.
But, I was scared that he would hurt me if I left. So I stayed. He became violent and, and would hit and rape me when I didnt want to be with him. I had thought that he really did love me since everything I knew of love was warped due to my abusive childhood. I thought I loved him. Except when he raped me or hit me. Part of me believed it was my fault. I caused it all.
One day after 2 and a half years of the abuse, I woke up. I was suddenly a different person, and I knew I didnt have to live like this. So I left him.
I had nightmares, panic attacks, became severly paranoid, and I had an obsessive compulsive disorder with washing my hands. I couldnt handle life.
So I decided to end it. I slit my wrists and ended up in the mental out-patient ward in the biggest hospital around my area, which happened to be 30 miles from my town. The prescribed Paxil for what they called clinical deppression, Proprananol for panic attacks, and Zyprexa for paranoia, and obsessive compulsive disorder. They prescribed all of that without knowing my real reason why I had attempted suicide. I was to embarresed to tell anyone. Time went by, and I started dating someone new, a person I had grown up with. He was a savior for me. I am with him still, and he tries to help me get over it. Sometimes I get so deppressed that he just cant help. I stopped taking all of my medicines and now I am doing a little better even though I am not seeing my psyciatrist anymore.
Someday I will be better and get over what had happened to me. I have to get over it all, going back years into my childhood when I was beaten and molested. I will get over it one day.
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As religious as he was, the longer we dated, the more he tried to pressure me into things. He was always trying to grope me whenever we were remotely alone, and I never tried to stop him. As uncomfortable as it made me feel, I thought that if I said "No, Stop" he would break up with me.
I don't remember everything very clearly from that day. We had gone to his parents house after school one day. No one was home. He started groping and touching me again, and I just sat there and let it happen. All of a sudden, the next thing I knew he was shoving me onto the floor and yanking off all my clothes. I didn't know what the hell was happening. I remember trying to push him off and couple of times, saying "No, I don't want to do this" (the first time I ever tried to assert myself to him) but it didn't do any good. He just brushed my hands away, and kept ripping off my clothes and touching me all over. Then I just went numb. My body went limp, and I just laid there as he raped me. I remember laying there staring at this pile of dirty clothes in the corner, and wondering why there were dirty clothes in the living room. And the carpet I was laying on... god, that carpet. Everytime I think back to that day all I can see is that dirty, ratty olive green carpet.
When he had finished, he tossed my clothes at me and told me to get dressed. I just did as he said, not thinking that about what had just happened. Then he made me clean the carpet where I had bled, yelling at me the whole time for making a mess. He took me home later, and kissed me goodbye just as if nothing had happened.
I was with him for three months after the first rape. I never fought with him, I always did just what he said, when he said it, thinking that if I made him that happy he wouldn't do that again. Wrong. He raped me 4 times total. Each time it happened, I just made my mind go somewhere else but where I was (barbados??). The only time he ever spoke of it to me was when he broke up with me, telling me that it was all my fault, and that I was a whore. That's why he said he was leaving me, that I forced him to do all that to me, and he couldn't be with someone like me anymore. He said he wouldn't be dragged to hell along with me. I never told anyone what happened until three years later. Until the day I told my best friend what happened, I had never even thought that was had happened was really rape. After all, he was my BOYFRIEND. I had beleived everything that he told me, that I was a bad person, and I was a whore. I must have done something to deserve what he did to me. It is now six years later. I have told my story before, but it always seemed like I was telling someone else's story. I never felt connected to what happened. In a way, I still don't. I have spent so many years repressing the whole thing. It's just so much easier to pretend that nothing happened. But when I really look back, and examine my life after the rape, I can see the effects that it took on my. I have never been the same. He took something from me much greated than my virginity. He took my pride, my self worth, that I have only recently been able to get back. Tori's music and story have been a big part of that road to getting back what I thought was lost forever. I am not healed yet. I thought I was until last night. I watched the 20/20 special, and suddenly I was right back there on that green carpet. The nightmares are back again, but this time I refuse to supress them. That is part of why I am writing this. I will not let him win. I am determined to truly take back my life this time, not just semblence of it. I don't know how, but one day, I know I will be able to truly get past this.
Peace, Love, and Strength to you all.
Stefanie
ICQ#: 23553455
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One night we were hanging out in my bedroom listening to music. He climbed on top of my and pulled my undies aside. I tried kicking him off me and closing my legs but he was too strong. i remember feeling toally lost as he overpowered me. I couldn't believe his strength. there was nothing I could do as he forced himself inside me. It was all over pretty soon. My first feeling was that i was really angry with him, not at what he did, but that we had unprotected sex. I guess I felt I had put myself in that position. But I yelled at him afterward and shoved him aside. All he said was, "I thought all women fantasized about being raped."
That statement hurt me as much as what he did to me. There was no way
I ever fancied being physically overpowered like that. No one would. It's
horrible to not be able to fight someone off.
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the first time was right before i moved from southern illinois. we had been friends for a long time, in a tiny community everyone knows everyone else. i was still a virgin, basically cast out by my schoolmates and just different from everyone else. nelson seemed real cool, and i liked him, but not enough to have sex with him.
it was in july, right after the 4th and i went with him to his house. we started making out, he got touchy feely. i said no. he pinned my hands above my head, grabbed a knife and i blanked out.
for the longest time i couldnt remember what happened. its tarted coming back in waves, like a reaccuring nightmare. when he was done he took off the condom and patted my head and told me what a good little girl i was.
the 2nd time was a year later. i had gotten out of the hospital for overdose and just lost my best friend in a bad car accident. once again i knew the guy, and did nothing except say no.
that should have been all i had to do.
i count myself really lucky. the only scars are emotional, and i have just recently gotten past a lot of the psychological trouble. it hurts some days, but i will not let the animals that did this to me ruin my life. it was hard getting my sexuality back. i met a wonderful man, married him and now have a 2 year old daughter. she is my life. there are days when i wonder"it happened to my mom, it happened to me, will it end with her?" my greatest fear in life is that she will have to suffer what i and millions of other women have had to go thru.
i know my story is not as bad as some, but we are ALL survivors.
the first time i was raped
i was silent
the second time i was raped
i was silent still
for my daughters sake
let me never be silent again
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I believe sincerely and so does my college professor that my book will give millions answers that they have long sought as survivors of rape.
if you know of any one who would be interested in reading my books and representing me, please help me. I am searching nation wide for a reputable agent and publisher to work with me. I have everything publish ready, edited and all.
My story is worth the telling, I am an able speaker about the issues of rape and abuse, and believe I would be an inspiration that survivors can be considered sane and work on giving answers for others pain.
Sincerely yours,
Catherine Snow
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when i was 7, my best friend invited me over to her house. we watched a couple of movies, and played for awhile. she said she wanted to take a bath, and that i should take one with her. this seemed totally okay with me, because i sometimes took baths with my sister. nothing happened with my sister, but this was different. with my sister, we wore bathing suits. with *her* we didn't.
she started touching me in weird places, the places your parents tell you never to let anybody touch. shw was a couple years older than me, so i figured she wouldn't be doing it if it was wrong. i trusted her completly.
after that night, she started doing it more often. then one night her older brother caught us. i thought he would help me, but he just decided to watch. at first that's all he did. then he started to join in. the first time he raped me, i felt like dying. i think a part of me did. i told my parents what was happening after awhile, and my mom was totally supportive. my dad never believed me. he thought i was making it up to get attention.
we got orders to move awhile later, and i never saw her or her brother again. i blocked out most of the memories. then one day, i got a letter in the mail. it was an invitation to her funeral. she had died and her mother saw my name in her address book and thought i would want to come. i don't know how she got my address or phone number. i didn't go, but when i got that letter, i was set free. i finally went to therapy, and realized that it wasn't my fault and that it was wrong. also, my therapist suggested i find more creative outlets for my anger. she introduced me to tori, and to writing, which has become my life.
n.s.
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My entire life, from the time I was 3 I was abused sexually by a friend of the family...it took me until I was 13 to realize that it wasn't right and it wasn't fair...10 years of my life...most of my childhood. I guess my first "trigger" was around that time... maybe a bit after...it was "Me and a Gun" I heard the first few lines...and I guess by the sound of her voice...I knew exactly what she was talking about. It really shook me. Sometimes I attribute my being alive to Tori...basically because I felt so alone...and she was the first person who got it drilled into my head that I wasn't. I really would have been dead without her.
The hardest part of "recovery" (if there is such a thing) for me, was dating...everything reminded me of my abuse. Every kiss, every hug...every word. I was fortuniate to have an understanding boyfriend (who was abused as well) He was the first person I told. It's been 5 years...and we're still together...I guess things really do work out after time.
If anyone is reading this who has been in a situation where you were raped or abused...I urge you...PLEASE GET HELP. You really can't get your life back without others. It's important to see that you're not alone...and there are so many people who are willing to help you... You have to be strong...because the weak are the first to fall. I think that in order to help the situation globaly or nationally at least is to write your congress men and ask what exactly is being done to prevent horrible people from preying on others...We all have to stick together and fight for the cause. There needs to be stronger laws to prevent this from happening again. I truly believe that we must all speak out...and practically raise hell to get something done.
Jennifer
FaerieWitch@yahoo.com
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Yes, I was raped. It is really shameful I guess. It was my own fault. My substitute teacher had asked me to stay after one day after school. I should have realized that this flighty, flamboyant man wasn't going to discuss my homework with me. So, like a cow led to the slaughter, I stayed after. He grabbed me when I got close to his desk, and laughed at first, I asked him,
"Whats going on?" And he looked at me, and he kissed me. I bite his tongue because I could not get away, and he smacked me over the head with something. Thats when I blacked out. I ame to to see that is was dusk and that it was snowing outside of the three storyschool. He was not in the room, and I lay in a big heap in the corner. This is the part where I get all choked up. Mercifully, I could not remember the rape, but I do remember the horror I felt, the wretching in my stomach. I began to weep, and scream for help. I cryed for almost and hour, silly me, not moving. My jeans were bloody, he had hit me with a paperweight. Thats when he came back. He had locked up his room, and I saw him through the glass on the side of the door. Oh boy, you have no idea the way the fear felt. I don't think I was being sensible, most of the time I am really down to earth. This guy was really stronger than me, and he could not find his key to unlock the door, like a horror movie, let me assure you. I raced to the window, and opened it, feeling the snow and the wind the desperation, so I dropped out of the second story window, onto the ground. The other staff members found me and he was sent to jail to get raped himslef the dumb prick. I haven't told many people about this, maybe my mother and the police. As for me, I am always falling, never actually hitting the ground, but forver, perpetualy falling. Maybe one day i will hit the ground.
Meridian
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