TRIGGER WARNING

**TRIGGER WARNING**This blog contains subject matter that could very well be triggering for some as it covers childhood sexual abuse and rape culture. My intention is to raise awareness and encourage other victims to let their voices be heard, NOT to offend, attention-seek, name call, blame or point fingers.

Thanks for taking the time to listen to my story.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

"That's like waking up every morning and taking a pill"

One year ago I was not on any anti-depressants or anti-anxiety meds. Today I am not less of a free individual because I choose to comply with a strict medication regimen. I know that it is a sign of strength that I am no longer dependent on my own means of self-medicating everyday. My mood is a lot more stable and I trust my feelings now, as I know I do not have to drink myself silly to handle social anxiety or smoke myself into a stupor to get any sleep at night. I was no longer 'just getting high' I was dependent on a substance to avoid feelings, escaping feelings of self-hate, no self-worth or confidence-(when really I was just ruminating in my own pool of misery). I lost friends, going to class, therapy (or yoga) were my few means of not feeling alone. On the surface I was doing well, but it felt really wrong, like I was lying to myself on a daily basis; depriving myself of really living.

While some days it is still really very hard to just be here in my body because chronic pain and migraines do not take a break for the holidays or when you just want to forget everything and have fun.
It's taken a whole lot for me to believe I am blessed to be in this body, rather than cursed to live on this earth.
Shifting your perspective from hating your life to loving yourself and all the life and light in you, is not any easy change to make, in fact this had been one of the greatest battles I've faced in my life.

Remembering, recalling and retelling my trauma history over and over again to various professionals has most certainly not been the highlight of my existence. Recounting six sexual assaults since the age of 5 is not something I would wish on my worst enemy.

But it's my life and I am done with acting like it is out of my hands.
I have made the choice to not let my PTSD and residual trauma dictate where I go in life.
Cause I've already come so much farther than I ever thought possible.
I thank Creator, whatever mask we put on GOD, for giving me the power, wisdom and insight to be here today and be all that I have worked so hard to become.

"That's like waking up and taking a pill every morning" was said by a yoga teacher in front of my friend Justin and I at a healing breath workshop after just having an out of mind & body experience. We both snickered at this comment, and I said "Yeah try taking 15+ 3 times daily" My friend also deals with PTSD from sexual assault, he was misdiagnosed as bipolar, the mental health world still does not fully recognize the role of  traumatic pain. From what I have witnessed, healing cannot occur for these victims until they address the power the event had on their life and learn to detach their identity from this, forgive themselves and the source of their maltreatment, so that they can go on to be self-aware survivors.

Impromptu Spoken Word inspired at the reservoir

Spitting bubbling Brooke's
Water dribbling 
You came a forest
Ripping at my knees
Alone in the meadow forgotten
Will I forever be 
Don't hear my pleads 
Whispers too sinister to please
Please this must be a sick joke
But YOU made it feel god-like 
I'm on the phone but no one's listening; 
no words can express what I cannot understand 
Words too hard to come by
Unforgivable actions done without notice
Give me a penny or its fake

Don’t tell I’m not worth anything.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

A Dream of You & Me/ Future Islands

When I was in inpatient treatment one of the hardest things for me was not having any access to music for two weeks. Listening to music has always been a coping mechanism of mine, especially during that time of high stress because my flashbacks were so persistent, plentiful and overwhelming. 
I printed out pages of lyrics after fighting the Dr about my right to access my Ipod when I was in panic mode. This was one of those songs that has become my mantra- 
I asked myself for peace. 
When things got scary I danced to these lyrics in my head or sung aloud Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah. 
It's also my favorite music video/stop motion art of all time.
I was also known for solving my anxiety and bad moods (or really anything at all) by hula hooping in the hallways of our hospital wing. 

"Private Affair"

It was a private affair.
No dinner reservations made,
No coats checked at the door,
just your shoes and your dignity.
Just a man and his wardrobe,
his closet full of snacks.
A Dr and his pretend patient,
a plaything
nameless, faceless, date-less rape.
You told me I knocked on the dollhouse door
and asked for more.


Tuesday, December 9, 2014

So you're a feminist huh, that means you hate men?

A guy once asked me on our first date, "You're not a femi-nazi are you?" in response to me saying I do gender studies at my university. WELP nice knowing ya, thanks for breakfast.

But really though, the misconception about what modern feminism is so distorted by the male dominated media complex. It makes me really sad, to the point that I wouldn't identify myself as a feminist for the longest time. 
I'm not a man hater, I most certainly am not some format of a female dominating 'nazi'.
True gender equality benefits both men and women, I am a strong believe in that.
I actually quite like (some) men. I just make them show me what they can do in the kitchen first.
So take your female sandwich joke and shove it down your sexist throat kindly. 

Always dreaming of Italy and the love I found there, sweet dreams babes <3 Dane

Who am I, just guess









I know when I may be dissociating sometimes because I'll hear songs from childhood replaying in my head. There's about 3-4  different melodies that have resurfaced from my unconscious but they all are jingly, rhythmic & hauntingly melodic.
I don't know their origins, I just know how they have stuck in my memories like glue. This one I ended up (accidentally) sharing in treatment, but somehow people laughing at it made it feel a whole lot less scary to me.
"Who am I?
Just guess
Guys wanna touch my chest
I'm bitching, great hair
All the boys just love to stare
I've got it, I'm hot,
I'm everything your not
so POOF with that attitude"

A Challenge to you: Compassionate letter to self

This coping mechanism has actually assisted me over the last couple of years. I still have a letter I wrote to myself at the beginning of summer '13 when I was starting a new job. It was sent to my school apartment, I received it and remembered that it even existed several months later.
The letter brought me to tears, my words were so honest & resonated within me deeply. I was raped that summer by a coworker, I denied the nature of what happened to try to make things easier on myself (but really it was to make things easier for him, he was mentally ill and preyed on my sympathy, manipulated feelings I didn't have)
I had this realization that nothing was going to change, this pattern of abuse would keep repeating itself until I CHANGED. It wasn't that I was the problem, but I was hurting myself by not being honest with myself and seeking therapeutic help.
"lessons repeat themselves until learned" I later learned in an outpatient program.
I have this voice that is worth speaking up for. A voice worth fighting for.
But sometimes I feel really small and even the most sensical decisions become overwhelming.

A letter to self is a way of tuning into yourself; what you really need to hear to get through this; what insecurities have been coming to surface; what is hurting rather than helping you.
For me it often becomes a love letter to self cause sometimes that's really what I need to hear the most; that I'm lovable even if it's coming from me. A excerpt from my most recent letter;

"You are alive and you are the most significant person to me. I love all of you, from your fingertips down to your toes, your WHOLE SOUL, I've never seen beauty as intimate, honest and raw as you. Your MIND, BODY & SOUL are YOURS ALONE to move forward with into the future."
"You accept the love you deserve in the here and now because you are worth SO much more than the tragedies of your past"

Turn your pain into passions. Don't let what you can't control confine you. Don't let what you hate define you.
Namastae <3 Dane

Mission Statement// I deserve better.

There are times I think "I don't wanna think about it. I don't want to see it. I don't want to write about it. I don't want to hear it, I don't want to think about him saying my name. I don't want to think about him thinking about me" and it all becomes so overwhelming; I'm panicking and this whole project seems daunting and hopeless.
Then I remind myself I'm not doing it for myself, I'm doing it for a little girl who thought she deserved to burn in hell at age 5.
I didn't, she didn't, we didn't.
I deserved my chance at hope,
I deserved to learn how to love myself,
I did not deserve to see what you showed me.
You took that desire to love away from me, 
Don't talk to me about playing fair,
If life was fair, your junk would be pickled in a mason jar on my desk.
You weren't a friend, you're a fucking pedophile hiding in plain sight.
 Do NOT start me on what you deserve;
I've relieved myself of the burden of caring about what happens to you,
I trust enough in god to let fate play itself out.

A fresh face for a Victim-filled War

My story is not a one-of-a-kind trick or tale; just as "the real problem" that has brought me to this present place in recovery is really  NOT just my problem ALONE. What became problematic was the way this societal-ill affected my mindset, my lines of reasoning, my short attention span, my altruistic thinking and more so the negative, demeaning conception of SELF that began at 5 years- old & led me to think I would be misunderstood all of my life.
What I needed was my trust in god, the world, and humanity restored. I dreamt of being able to trust someone enough that I could make the choice to love them. And picking someone who is deserving of my love, because I've had to re-teach myself that love can be a beautiful thing and it doesn't always have to feel so scary and unpredictable. There are and will be friends who accept me for who I really am, and that means ALL of me. The pieces I thought were broken, too fucked to function; parts of my soul too forgotten and plentiful to mention were buried under layers and layers of "I AM UNLOVABLE" "UNWANTED" "WORTHLESS" "DISGUSTING"... we'll stop there for now.
I am a fresh face for a victim-filled war.
unwanted criminals, too familiar to see
vast in numbers, professions, obsessions galore
we build up this bonified man of society
who never feels he is getting enough of the most important thing in life,
LOVE,
not wanted by his wife
so he stepped upon me
and wrote with his fingers
'the man' across my forehead
and he played the lady, the tramp.
He made the decisions, my decisions, my rights,
were played with to toil and tightness.
-I can't stand on my feet, I am too scared to breathe. This body can't be mine forever-
In moments, second unmeasured, things were gone from inside me
a child didn't know couldn't be replaced.
I can't even recognize love when it lies in my lap
without hearing the liar who ate my homework;
and finished me for his second plate, ate me for his midday snack, midnight snack and all the munching in between
my feet failed to take root beneath me. how could they? How could I? Who was there to trust?"
dissociative writ//Dane 5:40 11/30/14