#sur.viv.or

[thesurvivorprojectblog-blog]

patterns

Don’t wait for a miracle to happen. Don’t wait for life to change itself. Don’t expect what’s happened before and then again to stop happening. Don’t be surprised when patterns become predictable and then do not change. So many of my now natural responses to situations are a result of learning patterns and predicting what comes next. That being said, much of my life now that I am in a healthy relationship and surrounded by other healthy relationships surprises me. I am abruptly challenged in my head when things go a different way than what I was taught to expect.  

[thesurvivorprojectblog-blog]

marathon

Can I recommend pacing yourself? Don’t try and fix your whole life at once. That’s just a recipe for a messy mess. Pick one thing. One thing at a time, one day at a time, one hour at a time, one breath at a time. Whatever you need to do to get through a 24 hour block of time, that’s what you need to do. Pick one thing. If you’d like your whole house clean, maybe just try and do a load of laundry. Or, clean the bathroom. Or, flush the toilet. Make the bed. Do one thing. If you want to run a marathon, you don’t set out for the marathon on the first day. You go for a walk. Then you maybe run for two minutes at a time. You don’t run a marathon. You want to lose weight? You don’t buy smaller clothes. You portion a meal, you eat more fruit. You cut down on carbs and fat. One step at a time. One breath at a time. One hour, one day. One step, one mile, one meal. Pace yourself. Don’t expect yourself to change your entire life in a day, a minute, an hour. You have lived your entire life creating the person you have become. Pace yourself. Look back at how far you’ve come. When you stumble, look behind you first to see what you’ve tripped over, to see how many steps you’ve taken. Then look ahead. See where you’re heading.

[thesurvivorprojectblog-blog]

If it wasn’t for my horse, I wouldn’t have made it through college.

If it hadn’t been for my physical assault, I would lack a certain portion of empathy that I am deeply attached to in my life. If it hadn’t been for my assault, I wouldn’t understand the idea of the theft of innocence. I love who I am now, almost 20 years after the fact. I have not always loved who I am. There were times I hated all the things. The darkness, the shadows, the scents and memories and the great deal of space that I suddenly needed in order to feel safe. All of these parts of me were strange to me. But they were now a part of me. And, and I would not surrender them as a part of my identity. The memories, and times I have, they are mine and are as valuable to who I am as the any other experience in my life that makes me who I am.  

[thesurvivorprojectblog-blog]

reevaluate

Saying good bye to your expectation of someone is difficult. It means mourning the way you thought your life was going to be. It means admitting that you may have misjudged someone, given them too much credit, allowed hope to overcome. One time I trusted someone. And then the next day, I realized that I really just didn’t know that person, and I had false expectations of our life. And that was hard. I’d spent months building on an idea based on some experiences. I was unaware of the devil lurking inside who I thought was my friend. It turned out that experience would show me what hope hadn’t allowed me to see. That isn’t to say that every day with Andy was horrible. That’s part of what made our decomposition so hard. I knew that there were some wonderful days in my past. I knew that there was a time when Andy wanted me, and presented himself as someone who valued me. And then once upon a time he broke my shiny day dream. I had to mourn. I had to be sad. I had to say good bye. For my own good. And not considering for a minute what that would or might mean to him. Because he had proven to me that I was nothing to him. I was a piece of body. I was to be overpowered. To him, my no meant resist. He did not care. I cried. I remembered. I foreshadowed and then erased all that shit.  

[thesurvivorprojectblog-blog]

Break apart

I give you permission to be angry and enraged. I want you to share your heartbreak. It is acceptable that you are so confused by your situation that you cannot explain your feelings to anyone. These things are to be expected during times of crisis. These things are your normal status. This is your expected reaction. Anything else would be abnormal. I give you permission to be sad. You may cry. You do not need to explain random outbursts of tears. You do not need to understand these things yourself. They do not make sense. I give you permission to smile when you remember pleasantness. You may enjoy mild glee. This will not mean that you have buried your stress, your anxiety, your fear. You may. These emotions are all expected, unexpected, explainable, unplanned, yet probable in your life. This temporary state of chaos my last for weeks, possibly months, there may be years. You may be ok for a time, and then feel like you’ll never be ok again. You will be ok again.

[thesurvivorprojectblog-blog]

Explore your options

I promised a plan, and plan we shall. If you are in a relationship that makes you uncomfortable, feels unsafe, makes your skin crawl, if you are somewhere you feel stuck or trapped in, you should know that there are other options. I don’t care if your significant other makes 56 million dollars a year and you are a stay at home mom with no work experience and nine small children, there are other options. You might be uncomfortable for a while, but there are other options. No one has the right to make decisions about you without consulting you or without your consent. From the clothes you wear, to the types of carbs you eat, to the conversations you have with friends, you should have a say. If you don’t, you have other options. You may have forgotten that you are the boss of you because it’s been a while since someone gave that power, but you are the boss of you. You have to take control, but you have to be safe about it. If you are planning on making a great exodus, plan it. Figure out where you need to go to be safe. It might be a friend or relatives house. It may be a crisis center. If you’re leaving, figure out where it is you that you’re going. Tell someone you trust where you are going, and when you’ll be there. And then ask them to check. If you’re not there, expect the police to show up at home to do a welfare check. How will you get there? If you take the car, will someone report it stolen? Do you have car seats? Do you have cash for a taxi? What will you take? Let me tell you something, you don’t need 80% of what you have. Do you need to put some stuff in storage, mail a box to a friend, pack as though you won’t be back, but that you’ll see your stuff again. Take paperwork that proves that you are who you say you are, that says you are the parent of any children you’re taking, that says you own any property.  Do you have credit cards in your name? Take those. Birth certificates? Them too. Once you go, be committed to being gone. Forget about all you are leaving behind. Think about all you are gaining. Don’t go back, don’t even look in the mirror. Be that sure. And go.

[thesurvivorprojectblog-blog]

Be the boss

An open letter to some parents: Stop. Stop whatever you are doing and say this “I am a parent. I am responsible for the well-being of my children.” And then, whatever else you do from the very next second of your life, let it be about that statement. If you have children, you are expected to care for your children. I don’t care if you eat ice cubes so that your children can eat ramen, you do what you have to do. If you have children, it doesn’t matter what you want, because you are in charge of making sure that your child is safe. And that is all. Even if you have to work at a job that you hate for money that barely pays for just only the things you absolutely need and you never go on a date or spend three minutes alone again. Guess what- you owe only your child. Not any girlfriend, boyfriend, spouse, parent, sibling, friend, those people, you owe nothing. The only one you owe anything to is the one person you brought into the world. Now, be a parent. Sacrifice when you must. Know that you are doing it for someone else’s greater good. Because your child, your child knows. They’re like Santa. They know when you’re sleeping, they know when you’re awake, they know when you’re nervous, tired, stressed, pleased, satisfied, scared. So, be a parent. Make your child safe. Provide the basics. It’s such a limited time that you have to prove to your child that with you, they are ok. Take this time. Do what you need to do.

[thesurvivorprojectblog-blog]

So, some time has passed since I last blogged. Like almost a month. And SO much has happened in our little world. The thing I feel most qualified to write about is the injustice that our justice system dealt the rape victim in the Stanford case. What the Fuck? Was my first response when I heard the reasoning behind the lenient sentence that was handed down to Rapey McRaperpants. I get giving a first time criminal a shorter sentence than what would be given to a life time criminal achiever. What I don’t get is saying that a short sentence is justified because basically you don’t want to hurt the feelings of a rapist. That part just is hard to reconcile. I don’t understand it. The guy was found, not only actually, physically raping someone, but was then determined through the process of our court system to be guilty of raping someone. That person was then told “what you did was horrible, but…… here’s a few months.” I hope his 90 stay in prison is horrible. I hope he is tormented every night and cant’ get comfortable enough to poop. Something tells me though, mainly his dad’s attitude about the fact that his son is a rapist who should get away with it, that once he gets out pf prison, he’ll be like Piper Chapman and get a sweet book deal. Nothing against Piper Chapman. I liked her book, and I’m loving season four of Orange is the New Black. But, has Brock Turner learned anything? Has he been asked by anyone other than the victim to show remorse? If his dad is supportive of no jail time, and the community that he returns to treats him as a victim, rather than being angry that they are being subjected to welcoming a violent criminal home, has he suffered? Or is the whole thing really just an exercise in inconvenience and expense? Where is the promise that he’s learned his lesson and won’t do it again? Without remorse, that seems to be missing. I fear more for the women who will encounter Brock Turner after he’s released than I did before I knew he was a threat.   At least he can’t buy his way off of the Sexual offender registry. I hope he’s stuck working at a job that demeans his education and family status until he’s too old to be comfortable. He probably won’t. Something tells me daddy will take care of his son financially, since daddy doesn’t see anything wrong with what he did. But a girl can dream. And for a few days in her life, the victim of Brock Turner can at least feel safe, knowing where her rapist is for 24 hours of every day.