Aohrodite Wounded - Support for Women sexually assaulted by male partners and educational resources for professionals
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SURVIVORS SHARE STORIES OF SEXUAL ASSAULT

Survivor's Name:

Belle P

Survivor's Story:

Suddenly! I woke with a flash! My breathing was short. I felt the fear paralyse me for a moment. Taking shallow, quick breaths, I had just enough time to check for danger.

I’d been in that lovely place where you’re just about to settle into a peaceful sleep, when suddenly, the faces were there; staring at me with that ‘rape face!’ The dark, sinister smirk that rapists’ and abusers’ use as their power over you. ‘The look’ that lets you know, without any doubt that at that moment, they have the power and you are the object.

All those years ago, I ‘woke’ with the same flash. A flash of fear. Confusion. “Who?” “How many?” Knickers ripped down! Full of the evidence that they’d left behind. My dignity and inner violated into shreds of shame and dirt. “What the f*ck?!!!!” I’d been raped!!!! Shots of options slid through my mind rapidly. Priority option, I needed to get out. The house was dark, cold and silent. I looked into the kitchen from the grotty sofa I’d been stored on. No movement. I moved into the kitchen and saw moonlight shining through the glass panel in the front door. Pausing for a moment. I decided to move towards the door and made my way out.

Reporting the crime wasn’t an option. I was worthless. Dirty. Damaged, and besides, the doting Father I was bestowed had already engrained it onto me that I was a sex object; not through verbal advocacy, but via his 1am visits to my bedroom. Yup, he is a paedophile. Not one with a long coat and paedo tattood on his forhead. He’s the more powerful, middle class, law enforcing, soul of every party, going to rip your soul out, sociopath type of paedo. He’s very sophisticated don’t you know? Cunning.

Once out of the house, I took my time walking the 2-3 miles home. The sun came up, but I was freezing, as if I’d been plunged into ice and hung out to dry in the night. Totally hollow! I’d coped at the age of 11 onwards; although in some what of a rebellious in your face coping way, but I got through. But now, how the hell was I to get through this one? After years of analysing the sexual abuse and being sold out of the family to cover his tracks, I couldn’t possibly cope with this to analyse on top, so I didn’t. I blocked.

The night before, I’d gone back to a house with a few people I knew. My subconscious is unlocking some rather disturbing memories and with them, revealing the emotional scarring that’s left me so vulnerable for so long. The last I remember I was sipping a newly poured cup of tea. I stared into the cup and then, gone.

As I lay, slumped on that grotty sofa, my head fell to the side. I could see two guys watching. I saw their faces and recognised that rape face. I knew what they were watching. They were watching me being raped. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t feel a thing, nothing physical, nothing emotional. I was dead. Well, drugged.

I know who they are now and am just waiting for the rest of my memories to be realised in the light, so that I can find peace. I’m reporting their names to the police this week, as invariably these animals have attacked others and it’s come to light that one is training to be a counsellor (over my dead body). I know now that it was gang rape. I know my tea had been drugged. The three faces are clear in my mind and so are their names. They make me sick.

It’s only dawned on me that it was drug rape this last week. Before that, it was just something deeply hidden. So confusing, that even my tendancies towards analysing gave up in those early days. It’s not for analysing now, it’s for feeling. To dig up the suppressed pain, relive it and bury it. I’ve never done that. Never even acknowledged my feelings at being sexually abused by my father, disbelieved by my mother, drug raped at 17, called for jury service at 18 for a sexual abuse case, physically abused from 20 onwards by the father of my child, raped at 25 for ending a relationship and then, when moving to start that new life…..my friend was drug raped in my house (this was when the shadow man appeared at my window). Shortly thereafter, I went out with a guy who strangled me under running taps. I left, which was a lucky escape as I heard of two allegations of rape against him and it came to light that he was the man who I’d spotted stalking my property prior to our first date….. and breathe……

I’ve always picked myself up and brushed myself off, but after having suffered for the past two years, severe panic attacks, insomnia, anxiety as well as the consistently reliable visits from the shadow/ demon/ f*cking horrid repetition of the evils of abuse in my life; it was time to banish it and break into the light once and for all. Time to take my spirit back and be happy

This is my journey. My journey away from the curse bestowed on me as a child. I’m banishing my demons and I’m breaking free.

http://www.breakingfreesupport.co.uk/retreat.htm

This place offers fantastic, affordable healing opportunity. I went there and it's enhanced my healing.

OR follow my journey here:
http://www.breakintothelight.wordpress.com
Submitted November 5 , 2011 11 : 51 am

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