To all women everywhere...

She is beautiful. She is a daughter, a sister, a friend...she carries her pain within her, and goes on every day pretending to be fine, pretending to be ok. She is the student struggling day in and day out to make ends meet. She is the model, hiding the truth from every snapshot. She is the mother, teaching her daughters the dangers of parties. She is me. She is you. She is women everywhere. This is not a new phenomenom, it has gone on for centuries. But we now have the right to talk about it, we can come together to support each other and when one of us feels like we are falling, slipping down into that famiiar deep, dark hole...we now have other survivors to pick us up and support us until we can stand on our own 2 feet again. Revel in this...for this is a new concept. I am not ashamed, and neither should you be. Look around you, the sad fact is majority of women you know have experienced this sorrow. We have no need to be shamed, for we did not do this to ourselves. When a thief goes in and robs a store...do we chastise the owner? Do we stand there and look at them an say "You should not have made money today! You should not have displayed what you own! Yo should be ashamed!" No, we do not. Therefore, neither should we chastise women who have been raped! We punish the theives, we shame THEM! We scold them and say "You had no right to take this! You had no right to enter their property and take what rightfully belongs to them!" So, my women, my strong, beautiful, courageous women... be not ashamed. Take pride in our strength and our support and remember if we are all alone, then we are all together in that too. I love you all and God Bless.

.

1065

One thousand and sixty five days. one thousand and sixty five days since i was murdered in the middle of the night, murdered but not killed... but yet somehow, in some little dark part of my mind, it tells me that it was the easiest part. 12 minutes and it was over, but so easily described as just the beginning... the worst part of my ordeal was not the act itself, wasn't the medication, wasn't even when i was put in a safe house for a few nights...nah the worst part is acceptance. I have accepted this fact, it happened, yes i could have been more careful but how could i have possibly known there was a predator lurking nearby...i couldn't have. simple as that. to those of you that believe that a girls appearance, attire, alcohol consumption, their attitude or anything plays a factor in this situation then explain this...why is it so many girls from all different backgrounds, situations and personalities are assaulted? The hardest part of this has been acceptance from other people...it happened, I realize that it is an ugly topic for many people, but i am a survivor, and if i need to talk about my experience to make me feel better, to make me feel like some good can come from it god damn it i will. for those that don't want to hear it, snap back to reality...it does happen, whether you admit it or not. if you want to judge me thats fine too, but know this...by judging me you judge every other female this has ever happened to. If you have been through it you should understand where im coming from...and to those that havent gone through it... you cant possibly understand thus your opinion is irrelevant. I was raped, and theres not a damn thing i can change...blame it on the way i was dressed, blame it on my flirtatious attitude, blame it on alcohol, blame it on whatever you want...but when it comes down to it... im blaming it on the sick fuckers that did it. so judge away...got something to sa, say it to my face...but you better be prepared for a good slug, for me and for every other girl.



© Kristin Bennett 2009

September 21st 2009.

Judas Kiss

Time is wasting, Dead flowers rise

Responding to your never ending lies

Hands wrapped around my throat

Signed in blood my final note



You carress my body so tender and true

My last breath will be given to you

Our tryst turns violent suddenly it seems

Nightmares morphed from bittersweet dreams



Your eyes define what you have become

Your life long gone, over, its done

I feel your breath close and near

My heart quickens, I'm paralyzed with fear



It descends upon me, your judas kiss

Mortality stolen, it won't be missed

I arise anew, my dead eyes gleam

Beautiful disaster, a chaotic dream



Strong and elegant, I find my prey

A child of the night, hidden from the day

I seek my revenge hunting each night

You're life will be extinguished no use for a fight.


© Kristin Bennett 2010

.

No Use Crying Over Spilled Blood

I hate this life I’m forced to live

I keep telling myself something’s got to give

But yet 4 years later I’m still stuck in this place

Still trying to put on a believable face

I still remember your smell, your touch, your hate

The look in your eye, your murderous traits

I despise you for the person I am

You slaughtered me like a wolf to a lamb

There is no going back, there is no way to heal

Every year at this time the breath of the reaper I feel

You are my life and you were my death

No different than an addict hooked to crystal meth

Would I take it all back you may all ask

The answer is no, despite this smothering mask

I’ve come to terms with the blood that’s been spilled

I no longer live with the shame and the guilt

This is my closure, this is my goodbye

If I can’t move forward, at least I can try.




© Kristin Bennett 2010


*** It's taken me a month to finish this... I started writing it October 20th, 2010 and finished tonight, November 20th, 2010.***

House of Cards

Awake again in a cold empty house

Listening to the wind raging outside

I wonder if the pain is worth it

When it all comes tumbling down

The card i've been dealt

So carefully placed

Til my house of cards comes crashing down

Will it all be a waste?



Don't leave i beg of you

Leave me alone I'm pleading

Just go, just stay

I have no idea what i'm needing



An empty bed consumed with irrational thoughts

My brain is over run

My body is shutting down it's done

The pain doesn't cease

The hate doesn't subside

My house of cards is collapsing

I'm drowning within this high tide



Don't leave i beg of you

Leave me alone I'm pleading

Just go, just stay

I have no idea what i'm needing



Self-mutilation from the inside out

My mind is being ripped apart

Every thought i have is proceeded with doubt

I hate you, I hate me

I hate the mirror in which I see

A torn girl fumbling

Atop of a shaky house of cards tumbling



Don't leave, Don't go

Don't stay, I don't want you to know

Just how easy my house of cards falls

How quickly I can lose it all.



© Kristin Bennett 2010

.

Passionate Verity

His words cut deep, slicing through my exterior

Yet again he makes me feel inferior

He says I'm stupid, I'll never amount to anything

I believed him, I believed many things

I believed he cared and I believed he was faithful

I believed it was love, now I know he was just hateful

He brought me down, tore me piece to piece

I once stood tall, now I can barely make it to my knees

Once confident and unwavering I now stand before you

Ashamed and quivering, but still it remains true

He would build me up and make me believe

And then rip it away proving it was make belief

I didn't know who I was or what I wanted

Even now that I'm stronger I am still haunted

Haunted from my past and who I was

Even though I have a man that cares and truly loves

I'll never be the woman I could have been

I'll never be judgemental or naive again

He pushed and pushed til there was no going back

Constantly on guard, constantly under attack

So be patient with me baby, although I know you deserve more

I have yet to heal, my heart is still sore

Walk me through recovery and hold my hand

One day I promise on my own I'll be able to stand

But until that time hold your tongue and keep your patience dear

I still have yet a lot of caution and a lot of fear

Life goes on with its scraped up parts

Bruised egos, dried out eyes and ripped up hearts

But with passionate verity we'll move on in time

Only to be encapsulized within the lines of this rhyme.

Since we last spoke..

By now you are probably thinking holy shit, it’s got to get better from here, and this has to be rock bottom. And again, you would be wrong…it gets worse. Once again I began the school year of 2008, bright eyed and hopeful. I obtained a room in Ottawa, some of my credits had transferred over, I knew a few people already, my family was only an hour away instead of 8 hours… I had a fighting chance at least. Well, I would have had a fighting chance had my anxiety, depression and pure hate for the world had not gotten the best of me. Just the thought of sitting in a lecture still sends my heart racing, the thought of being just a number, being demoted to one person out of hundreds… I don’t know why this is. It may be the feeling that I have no control over the situation, or that it’s just far too impersonal but regardless… I dropped out after the first semester and moved home. I moved back to Renfrew despite the protests from my family and friends.
Renfrew is a great place to raise a family, a great place to retire, but unfortunately a not-so-great place for a young girl who has no idea who she is or what she wants from life. It began off alright with me finding a job and paying my rent myself, taking responsibility for my actions. But at this point it was like I was on a path of self-destruction that was impossible to stop, although every part of me was screaming for help it didn’t matter. It would have been the equivalent of a Stop sign in the middle of an avalanche… the snow isn’t going to stop and in the end it just buries the signs. I wanted numb. I was sick of feeling, sick of hurting, sick of being dead…so what did I do? Instead of being 6 feet under and clawing my way out, I buried myself down 12 feet and threw some cement on top. I started off doing a hit of ecstasy about 1 or 2 times a month, then I did it on Saturdays, then every Friday and Saturday. I started lying and stealing to pay for my habit, I was out at the bar every night drowning any emotion I could possibly have. It was great, I was on top of the world, in my little town I was queen shit and nobody dare mess with me. I finally had the power back, I could control the situation again, and people listened when I spoke. What I didn’t realize is that the only reason they were listening was because either they wanted to be as high as me or they were as high as me. I made a ton of friends, all users, all wanted the hook ups and deals that only I could get them. I was now dealing out of the bars to feed my addiction, stealing from my friends, betraying the trust of my family and killing myself in the process. I began dating Cory, a guy I had ironically met while doing my student placement at the probation office. Worst mistake ever.
Cory never hit me, never once laid a hand on me but in retrospect bruises would have healed a hell of a lot faster than the damage he did to my self-worth. Cory was a user as well, which obviously did not help my addiction and it was like adding fuel to the fire. I was made to believe that I was worthless, fat, ugly and that I would never get another man as good as him and that I was lucky he’d even take the time in his day to speak to me…and I believed him! I believed that he was the best I could do, I believed I needed him and that he was my be-all-end-all. He got ecstasy, mushrooms and acid for the two of us on a regular basis, using my money of course, and when I couldn’t afford it I would pawn off my belongings. I can’t even begin to say how much I regret every moment of this, but you asked for my story and I said I would give it start to finish. I would like to assure you though, that as I write this, the thought of what I put my family and my true friends through is beyond regret and remorse, I have tears pouring down my face and my heart is in the very pit of my stomach. Whoever said that one should never regret anything that taught them a lesson clearly has never seen the look in their father or mother’s eyes when they are told that their baby girl has a drug addiction. Anyways, Cory was using me for money, food and a place to crash and I was using him as a false sense of security… fair trade off I suppose. By Christmas 2008 we had been doing some form of drugs almost every second day, and drinking every day, with Cory even going to court high on numerous occasions. I had been getting in many fist fights, had several encounters with the police at this point and had been involved in at least one big investigation pertaining to Cory. Then the beginning of the end came about March 17th, 2009 with my final big bender on St. Patrick’s Day, my final scream for help.
St. Patrick’s Day I went out with my friends and was offered mushrooms, which I took without question. I then proceeded to invite over 20 people back to my small apartment, where I did several other drugs and my neighbour kicked us out at 5 am. The next day I received a phone call from my dad saying he was coming by my apartment, and I quickly got a taxi ride over to meet him. My dad and my mom (Pam) told me that they had some stuff they wanted to talk to me about and escorted me upstairs into my apartment, my dad then received a phone call and went downstairs. I was told to sit down on the couch and my dad came back upstairs, followed by my mom (Leanne) and stepdad. At this point I was in pure and utter shock, my mom and dad, to my knowledge had not spoken in years. This was an intervention, whether I liked it or not something had to change and it was changing now. After hours of discussion, a lot of tears, heartache and confessions we came to an agreement on a few things. First of all, I needed help and I couldn’t do this on my own so I was to be sent to Pathways for drug counselling as well as Mental Health for a regular counsellor. I was also to move into my parents’ house until I got back up on my feet, to allow my parents to keep a closer eye on me and so that I wouldn’t have the added stress of trying to find a new apartment right away. I had moved within a week and began counselling right away. Then came the next obstacle and some explanation as to why I began the drug abuse in the first place.
Now I’m not saying that I’m not taking full responsibility for my actions, because I am without question, however there is an explanation as to why I felt the need to use in the first place. My dad posted a YouTube video about borderline personality disorder on Facebook, and I, being the curious person I am, watched it. Roughly 30 seconds into the video I began sobbing uncontrollably, this was my cathartic release, this is where everything came together to make sense. I had every single symptom of Borderline which are as follows:
• Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment
• A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation
• Identity disturbance, such as a significant and persistent unstable self-image or sense of self
• Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating)
• Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior
• Emotional instability due to significant reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)
• Chronic feelings of emptiness
• Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)
• Transient, stress-related paranoid thoughts or severe dissociative symptoms
I called my father right away and we went for a long drive and discussed the next steps. The next day my mom (Pam) and my dad drove me to Ottawa to the Civic hospital where I saw the doctor on duty in the emergency room. I was referred to the psychiatrist in the hospital, and I reluctantly went to see her. Right away she prescribed me anti-anxiety medication to help with my panic attacks and some anti-depressants to assist in slowing down my thoughts and balancing the chemicals. I also began Cognitive Behaviour Therapy in which I must reprogram my thought processes and how I react to my emotional states. This diagnosis originally complicated things, as I was left wondering whether or not the emotions I felt were actually real, whether the love I felt for someone was real…or if it was all just symptoms of BPD. During this time when I was seeing the psychiatrist in Ottawa I was unable to work because of my anxiety, I attempted working in a factory however unfortunately that only lasted 2 weeks. My stress level was far too high to add anything else to what I was already dealing with. I applied to Ontario Works and got on it, which results in my next big issue.
When I decided to go to school again Ontario Works (OW) supported me wholeheartedly and reassured me throughout the whole process that I would continue to have their support. They lied. They said that they would assist me in paying my tuition (as I do not qualify for OSAP), they would help with my books and school supplies. I continued to try and find another means to pay for my school and applied to some student lines of credit as well as credit cards…both which I was declined. My next meeting with OW I was informed that they could not pay for my tuition, however they would still be able to assist me with my books and school supplies. Then, on my birthday I was told that they could not help me out with anything and that they would be cutting me off assistance all together. This left me with no way to pay my rent in my house in Haley Station, no way for transportation to get to school, no groceries, no phone, no internet…essentially nothing. I was left with 2 choices… either find some way to make it work…or drop out again. I felt as though without school I would end up right back where I was a year prior so I fought with every inch of my being to make it work. It was wonderful for the first month…and then the issues at the school began.
The issues at the school started with my volunteer hours, which I had submitted by the due date, however there was a misunderstanding with the way the course co-ordinator worded his expectations. Due to this misunderstanding the Dean then attempted to remove me from the program… just one more chance to grow stronger. I contacted the Ombudsman for the college, the head of Algonquin in Ottawa, as well as the Ottawa Sun & Citizen and I fought it with everything I had. The Dean claimed that my hours were fraudulent, said that due to my BPD I was “not of sound mind” to be in the program etc. but when it came down to it… my hours were accepted and I had won yet another battle. After this incident however it seemed as though my teachers took a dislike to me… I was pulled into the office over a plagiarism issue. My communications teacher believed that I had plagiarised an “I Believe” paragraph in which I described “Jedi Powers” and contrasted them against Reiki and explained the similarities. During the meeting I demonstrated my knowledge of Star Wars in order to prove that I did indeed write the paragraph from my own common knowledge…and the issue was dropped. Another issue I had was with my school books, which there was no way I could possibly afford. I ended up going through my whole first semester only purchasing and using my psychology book. I borrowed the other books here and there, took extensive notes in class and studied almost on a nightly basis to make it work. Finally, a week before my exams my beloved dog, Abby, hit my laptop off of the coffee table and it fell a foot onto the floor. The way the laptop hit the floor broke the head off of the hard drive, thus rendering useless and all the data over the past 3 months was lost. I ended up studying the slides and leaving all of my exams with excellent marks, generally around 80%. All of these issues did not discourage me though…it just forced me to prove how much I truly wanted my diploma this time.
My goals for the future are to get my Social Service Worker diploma from Algonquin College and then go on to finish my university education. I feel as though despite the past 4 years that I am a strong, independent young woman who is more than capable of achieving this. I am focusing my studies on rehabilitating youth who have been involved in the legal system. I am currently doing a placement at the Boys and Girls Club here in Pembroke, and am facilitator of a group called “Take It Easy”. Take It Easy is a group of girls aged 9-12 who come together on a weekly basis to learn about self-esteem, violence, body image and self-respect. I am also volunteering at The Grind, which is a local youth drop-in center where kids can learn how to play guitar, play some video games, and just have a safe haven to hang out. I am also working at Please Mum, a children’s clothing store, however I am currently only getting about 8-10 hours a week, which is not near enough to pay my rent, groceries, phone bill, internet etc. not to mention I have been walking roughly 40 minutes just to get to work because I cannot afford to take a cab. I have made such lifestyle changes in the past year it’s hard to even look back at who I was…that’s why I just keep moving forward one baby step at a time. All I want in the world is to finish my schooling and help those who are going through what I have gone through, make a difference in someone’s life, make all my mistakes worthwhile in some way. Thank you for taking the time to read this, and God bless.