Take It Back...

"Once again I feel my rage building up, coming to a boil within my damaged heart. My glazed over eyes glare at a picture of the girl i once was, and i yearn to be her again, oh how i yearn to be naive, and untainted. Crisp tears stream down my face, as I am speechless, unable to determine how or what has built up this anger within me. Memories of their murderous act fly through my treacherous mind over and over. I want to scream... I want to break down and sob... I want to be who I was. But I am just a hollow shell of who I once was, just a shadow looming over a grave site. Take it back, I beg of you... just make this pain go away. Give me bruises, cuts and wounds, at least they can heal...but this...no this will never heal. I am broken, just a memory fading with time, just another girl who lost her soul."

Sweet Dreams of Fatality

In death i have learned to live
With blindness I have learned to see
In taking my life you left me;
With nothing left to give
You opened my eyes to a new life
One full of misery and distraught
I pray that one day you are taught
The pain and heartache that you have brought
So many women have died
Like me tears of rage and hatred they have cried
Desperate for a reason, desperate to know why
How you could destroy someone so unaware
And live with your self-assuring lie
So cunning, and heartless to lure us into your lair
Look into your eyes and you will see
An unraveling lie within a hidden truth
Haunting and stalking your every move
It's not me that must live with your guilt
For I am deadIt's your heart that's going to shrivel and wilt
It's you who made your bed
So sleep sweet, and dream of the night you took my last breath
I am going to celebrate my enlightening death

Well ladies and gents, here we are...2 years ago tonight I was raped, 2 years ago tonight my soul was snatched away and my heart ripped out of my chest. I will never forget this night, much like one never forgets their first kiss, or their first love...I will never forget my first true death. I think that this is much like an open wound... It can heal, and the pain becomes numb...but you will always have that daunting scar reminding you of what has happened. Just like an open wound salt can be thrown in to make it sting and burn, and just like a wound there are bandaid solutions like medicine to numb the pain...neither are healthy. My wound is still very much so in the healing process, everyday I learn new ways to deal...to put stitches in my wound if you will, but eventually it will close and my life will go on leaving me only with some minor scars to attend to. 2 years and counting...and everyday I pity those poor bastards more and more. The law may not have justice, but one day God will...I await the day anxiously.

2 years later

2 years ago i was reborn
killed my soul
and left me a heart thats torn
2 years later can i say that im whole?
not yet,not ever
not after that fateful endeavor
you look forward, no need to look behind
i live in the past, cant get you off my mind
if only i could do it all over again
maybe now i'd have some trust in men
i live in the past
wishing everyday would be the last
2 years now, and i cant let you go
you are the cause of my every sorrow and woe
when will the memories leave
when will i get some relief
ghostly touches overcome my will
unable to think and keep my thoughts still
2 years now and i still await the day
when justice will prevail and God will have his way.

Surely, this must be hell

Like cancer your dark captivation eats me from inside, growing and taking over my very soul... I try to push you out day after day but still you yearn for my life. Why can you not leave me be? Why can you not let me live? You are a parasite sucking the life from my blackened heart. You slither around throughout my body, infesting your way into my mind but yet I cannot find you...I cannot be rid of you. Your presence haunts my every thought, the boogeyman lives in my closet of skeletons and he isn't afraid to show his face every now and then. When I sleep nightmares plague me, like the black death seeping quietly into a peaceful village. I awake to find that the nightmares are real, as though Freddy runs rampant on my street... there is no end. I close my eyes praying for salvation but when they open I stare into his charred face, my eyes frightfully wide surely there must be a way out of this house of horrors? Like Dahmers you eat me from the inside out taking every last piece of calmness and peace. Why do you torture me so? Everytime I take a few steps forward I fall back as you stab me in the back as though you were Mr. Voorhees looking for revenge. Your demonic being forever intertwined with my purity...forever lingering on my tainted consciousness. At this stage of hell there is no escape.

Because I Am

I am strong because I am weak
I am beautiful because I know my flaws
I am a lover because I am a fighter
I am fearless because I have been afraid
I am wise because I have been foolish
& I can laugh because I have known sadness.

Tabula Rasa

Tabula Rasa: A need or an opportunity to start from the beginning.

An opportunity to start from the begginning has been given to me, how it has been given to me nor whom it is from. I have been accepted into a new university, a chance for a new life, one which is not plagued by the constant fear of seeing the rapist in the streets every time i go out, one where I do not constantly see the campus on which I was raped. This new life is a chance for hope and a bright future. I am still unsure of whether or not I will tell my new classmates, friends, and acquaintances about my past at brock...on one hand it is a chance to stat a completely new life leaving this demon behind....on the other hand should I continue to tell people to warn them about the dangers of drinking?? It is a conundrum indeed, one that I am going to have to take a long time thinking about.
In other news my article was published in the July 16th Renfrew Mercury newspaper and I have been getting alot of positive responses. I now plan to submit an editorial to the Ottawa Citizen or Ottawa SUN and hopefully make my story more well known and give survivors a voice. This is such a taboo topic, and nobody likes to hear about it...well my friends I'm going to make people listen. Like it or not.

PTSD=OCD?

I have decided to attempt to receive compensation through the Criminal Injuries Compensation Board. It sounds as though it is going to be a long process, one that involves the re-hashing of many suppressed memories. This worries me as I have come such a long way in the past few months since being home…I’m terrified of becoming completely withdrawn and emotionally secluding myself again. Just today I put some calls through to enquire about the application process and whether or not I could receive a copy of the statement I made to the police in October 2006. This alone resulted in an anxiety attack. My chest tightened, I couldn’t breathe, I became extremely agitated and unable to concentrate or sit still… consequently I had to leave my office and go for lunch early. It took about an hour for me to calm down, and even still 5 hours later I am agitated and completely OCD. I have been cleaning non-stop, making lists; everything has to be perfect and methodical. I believe this may be a way for me to take my mind off of the assault, but it’s completely uncontrollable. I tried to sit still and concentrate on my case files but then my mind starts screaming at me “fix your papers”, “arrange your pens”, “file your cases”…it’s extremely annoying, but if I don’t do it the screaming gets louder and louder until I can’t bear it anymore and I end up cleaning again. Who knew a symptom of PTSD would be Obsessive-Compulsive behaviour??? I am putting off searching for information for the case for today…going to wait until I am at home and I’m allowed to be OCD.