To The Editor

This is the letter I am submitting to my local newspaper in hopes of being published. Just one more way to reach the young girls out there, just one more way to protect you, your sister, your mom, your child...your family. Help spread the awareness even if it's just printing it out and showing someone!

To The Editor:
With the end of another school year, many young girls will be going away to College and University; this is just a friendly reminder to all the girls.
I am a daughter, a sister, a student, and I am a survivor. On October 21st 2006, I being a naïve 18-year-old freshman, at the University of my choice, thought that I had made it through. I had made it through high school and I was on my way to discovering who I was and what I was all about. Unfortunately, there were other plans in store.
I, like every single female out there has a right to say no, a right to be safe wherever I go, and the right to drink and not be worried about what life altering consequences there may be. This, ladies, is not a reality today; we do have these rights. However, the game has now changed. Although we may say no, they don’t always listen. Although we should be safe, they don’t always make us feel safe. Although we should be able to drink carefree, we can’t anymore. It took 12 minutes for me to go from an independent, strong, motivated young woman to become a terrified, unsure, dependent quivering girl. Every movement, every smell, every sound can be recalled perfectly. Flashbacks, nightmares, paranoia, and anxiety attacks all are apart of what the rapist has left behind. One night of “fun” is not worth the lifetime of regret.
After my assault I went to the hospital, just like I was taught to. I had pictures taken of bruises, I was given my options for pressing charges, and I was given pills; pills for every possible STD imaginable. Up to this point I had held on I did everything methodically and in a daze. I didn’t cry at the hospital, I didn’t cry until they brought up HIV/AIDS, the thought that because of one careless move on my part that I could die in consequence was too much for me. I took the medication, and to be honest I’m not sure what was worse: the rape itself or the cost it carried with it. I was very fortunate, as I survived the attack and there were no other complications, besides my mental health of course.
I am still in counseling to this day, and I am still learning to cope with what has happened to me. It is a long, grueling process, one I would rather you didn’t have to go through. Learn from my mistakes. I beg you; learn from my experiences because this is one you do not want to go through.
With this having been said, I urge all the girls out there, especially those going away to college or university this fall to be careful. Don’t leave your drink anywhere, even with a friend. As much as your friend has your best intentions at heart, someone else might not. Don’t get caught anywhere alone; don’t walk home alone; don’t go to the bathroom alone; and if there is a party in your house, do not go to your room alone. Bring a friend with you and lock the door as soon as they leave. A majority of taxi drivers are safe, but there is the minority that are not safe so again, don’t get into a taxi alone. A lot of it sounds like common sense; however, after a night out with a few drinks, many girls forget these simple rules that could prevent against an assault. Remember these, and pass them on to your friends and family. Don’t become a survivor…don’t become another statistic like me.
- Kristin Bennett

The Moment She Cried

I've been dealing with a lot of flashbacks recently, I'm not sure if it is because of the counselling im attending weekly or if it's because of the crime shows I watch nightly...probably a bit of both. I would like to make a clear definition of a flashback... there is remembering and then there are flashbacks. Remembering is a controlled reminiscing of the assault..I can sit here and remember detail by detail the events. In contrast flashbacks occur very suddenly, are very powerful in nature and can include physical sensations...touch, hearing, smell etc. When I get flashbacks I feel...i feel everything all over again. My throat tightens, my body curls in repulse, my heartbeat is elevated, and I become extremely fearful all over again...rational or not this is what happens. It begins with a trigger... a smell, a word, a shirt being too tight around my throat, a vivid scene on a movie... and it ends with me huddled in a corner traumatized and terrified all over. I recently mentioned this to my counsellor (the only one I have connected with and actually UNDERSTANDS..she's nothing short of amazing!) and she developed a method to calm myself during these flashbacks.
She asked me to remember the assault...and then she asked me to remember the first time i felt safe after the assault. The first time I knew I was no longer in danger and it was over. This time for me was at my friend's house, when Amanda came downstairs and hugged me...I knew I was safe when I could cry. The moment that first tear ran down my cheek when Amanda was sitting at my side. I knew I was safe, I knew it would be ok, I knew it was over. This image of that sole tear running down my cheek is one I will cherish forever, the one that is going to pull me out of that dark ominous hole when I lay tarnished at night.
I urge those that have been through this to discover their moment...that moment they knew they would be ok. Find the moment that you cried.

Stranger In My Eyes

There’s a stranger in my eyes
She’s taking over my thoughts
She’s taking over my life
I struggle and fight, sometimes I win, sometimes I see me
Sometimes she wins for weeks on end
This stranger doesn’t like people
She doesn’t like happiness, or kindness, or love
She despises it
It makes her feel weak, she needs to be punished
This stranger has no remorse, or pity, or compassion
She despises it
It makes her feel human, she needs to be punished
Sometimes when she wins I let her take over
Sometimes the struggle is too much
When she takes over I am distant
But if you’re distant…you’re untouchable
She’s taking over my thoughts
She’s taking over my life
This stranger in my eyes…I wonder will she become me?

* This poem describes the struggle between who i was and who i have become. When i look in my eyes i no longer see the person i was, but a new person...one that is cold, distant and horribly angry. I'm terrified that this is who I am going to become all the time, I don't want to be like this...but maybe it's inevitable after what has happened?

The Outside of The Wall

Outside the wall. Brick after brick a wall has been put up, a wall which prevents from hurt, disappointment, and sadness. A wall which has been so carefully built up after many different experiences, which are hard learned lessons...none the less this wall was built up within a matter of a few years, not a lifetime like most people think. Each brick has a name, a date, a place...included with the harsh words of a loved one, or the devestating actions of someone whom i thought cared, or the complete disregard of life from complete strangers. Either way, these bricks have become something to hide behind, something i can count on when the going gets tough. I can hide behind my wall and not worry about other people or what they think... I am not so uncommon in this, I would even go as far to say that everyone has a wall...whether its proportionate to a fence...or to unimaginable heights...we all have one. My wall was more of the latter...i would hide behind this wall, but it got to the point where i couldn't find my way back to the outside, i was trapped in the darkness, the dark side of the moon if you will. Brick by brick i am learning to let go...brick by brick the light seeps in...brick by brick i am discovering that those who truly care are willing to help take down the wall...where as those that don't care no longer add bricks. For once I am saying... It's good to be on the outside of the wall.

OUTSIDE THE WALL - Pink Floyd
All alone, or in two's,
The ones who really love you
Walk up and down outside the wall.
Some hand in hand
And some gathered together in bands.
The bleeding hearts and artists
Make their stand.
And when they've given you their all
Some stagger and fall, after all it's not easy
Banging your heart against some mad bugger's wall.

Frustration, Hurt, Anger and Hate

** This was also wrote back a while ago

The natural human response to danger is FLIGHT or FIGHT, so i wonder how can we possibly determine which one we are? How is it we can train in martial arts for years...and when it matters...when it REALLY matters turn into a disoriented mess? Should fighting not have been engrained into our system??? And i wonder...does this response carry on even though the trauma has already been done? There are people who go through a great deal of pain and suffering and come out completely on top...they turn it into an amazing wonderful powerful thing....and there are others, me, who again turn into a cowardly disoriented mess. So this response, this engrained human response that we have no control over... does it last our whole life? When I'm hurt, when i'm upset, when i'm confused...i run, i hide, and i submit, but this isn't what i was taught, this isn't what i have learned and trained for over and over again. I hate it, I want to stand up and fight, i want control, but my knees...they are too weak, i cannot stand. My heart...is not strong enough, I caznnot fight. My mind...is disoriented, i cannot gain control. I wonder, do they feel the pain, do they suffer as I do? Because I suffer, every single day I do...they say there is a God, they say if you worship this God that you will be a free man, you will be a strong worthwhile person, that God will pick you up and carry you threw the dark times. Well I am in the darkest of prisons like so many before me...Where is this God? Deliver me from evil??? I feel more like you submitted me to it. I am angry and I turn against my family..the ones thaT have been there...but those that made me angry, I can't touch. Everyone says their day will come, what goes around comes around, that karma will reign... I say WHEN? I have been denied, not once, not twice, not three times, but four times... justice? I do not know the word. So, I ask this one simple question Why?

My revenge

This is older...I wrote it a couple of months back. If only it worked this way...

I want to hurt youI want to smash your knees with the biggest aluminum baseball bat i can find
I want to blow your brains out with a shotgun and watch them ooze down the bloodstained wall
I want to cut your tongue out with a rusty dull razor just to see you squirm
I want to yank handful upon handful of hair out of your head to make you cry
I want you to die
I want to be the one that kills you, and i want to do it slowly
Bamboo under your nails
Jab a needle in 1000's of times making little trails.
I hate you
I despise you
I want to cruelly snatch away your soul as you brutally killed mine
If i had ten minutes with you...there would be nothing left
I hope you say the things you want to say now...because soon You wont have the tongue to say it with.
Have a good life you piece of shit...Cause when i get a hold of you, you won't be around much longer.

♥always the girl who has your sick face scarred into her mind

My New Life

Since that night on October 21st 2006 I have become a completely different person. I no longer feel secure in my family home, I no longer feel comfortable walking the streets alone day or night, and I no longer trust people...anybody. I attempted to go through the legal system to no avail, it simply resulted in disappointment after disappointment and for what I went through I discovered it wasn't worth the extra heartache it caused. I admit I did not do things right...mind you in that state of mind, how could you possibly do things right unless you're a robot. I showered...basically cardinal sin #1 for a rape survivor. I showered and I scrubbed my body until i bled, I had to get their filthy disgusting hands off me, I had to get their nauseating scent off me...so I showered. I threw out my clothes, with the exception of the shirt i had been wearing...and when i went to the hospital I had decided i wanted to keep it to myself...meaning no charges would be laid. In this frame of mind I declined having a rape kit done...cardinal sin #2 had been committed. As of this point I had washed away any evidence, I had thrown out any evidence and if by chance any had been left behind...I declined having that evidence collected. I just became the rapists best friend. Looking back now I wish I could have done things differently, but what's a wish going to do now? Absolutely shit all.
A year later I decided I wanted to press charges, it was coming up to the anniversary of my rape and I decided that it was a now or never type of deal. I contacted the police, who already had my statement on file (which was horribly flawed by the way) and proceeded to go in for an interview. The detective then brought in the guys that did it...they admitted openly to having consensual sex, however both of them vehemently denied that it was anything but... How can a girl crying, saying no no no over and over again possibly mean "yes i want to have sex with you"? As far as im concerned if a girl does not say that... it is in NO WAY consensual. The detective brought me back in and explained that because there was no "forensic" evidence that nothing could be done. What coplete and utter bullshit! If it was his wife, if it was his daughter, if it was his mother....i'm sure he would have made a little more effort...apparently a druk college girl does not rank high in the importance scale.
A few months later when confronted in downtown St. Catharines I again went to police seeking some kind of protection...some kind of reassurance that I would not be in harms way. The reaction I got from the pompous ass behind the counter, who apparently has never had any interaction with an assault victim in his carreer proceeded to question me. "So was this supposed assault a boyfriend thing?" 1. Supposed?!? ok I get it, he wasn't convicted...innocent until proven guilty...I'll live. 2. A boyfriend thing?!?! ok the "supposed" pissed me off...this though was unbelievable! A police officer is supposed to be professional, caring, kind person towards citizens in need...maybe he didn't understand it, but I have NEVER been so insulted in my life. My answer to this question " No the RAPE was not a boyfriend thing, and if you need any more information why don't you consult the detective who just interviewed them?" Oh and for the record...if they haven't been convicted, you can't get protection. Bullshit.
I have since moved back to my home town, but I still do not feel 100% safe..and i question if I ever will. Some of the stuff that will be posted on here will be old material...some will be new. I pray that this blog will reach someone who truly needs it...and I pray that in writing this blog I will continue to heal.

The Night I Died.

We were having a res party, there were several “guests” up for the night as my roommate, Sara** had invited her cousin up. Well her brother and a bunch of his friends ended up showing up as well…It was just another carefree party, I was 18 years old carefree and ready to party like everyone else. When you’re that age your invincible, you’ve made it out of high school and you’re in university…nobody can touch you now right? Wrong. Like all my friends in the court I was having a great time, I had taken the time to look my best, curled my hair, did my make-up…living in an all girls house we always did that together…We were over at a friends house drinking and playing games flip cup, kings…all of us were having an awesome time. I thought my roommate’s cousin, rob, was cute so I took the opportunity to have some fun…I mean its university right? Who doesn’t want to have some fun? We were fooling around for a while, going in and out of different houses, partying with different groups of people…before I even realized it I had drank a 26er of rum. We had already been warned by the dons several times for our carrying on, and our guests had been sent to get checked in. We finally decided after the dons were coming back over that we would all go hangout out in my house, so everyone came in and was hanging out downstairs. John, one of the random guys that my roommate’s cousin had brought with him told me that he was sleeping in my bed I was basically like “ummm excuse you? No you aren’t!?!?!” and then he took off upstairs. After a few minutes I decided to go check on him just to make sure he wasn’t actually in my room, I slowly stumbled up the stairs and sure enough he was in my room. I went in and demanded he get out of my bed…he got down and walked over and kissed me I shoved him off and said no, so he turned around and got back into my bed, I figured if I just left him there he’d eventually leave so I left the room. Standing on the landing was rob we starting fooling around again on the landing where he tried to push me into my room I said “no I don’t want to that creepy guy is in there” and he tried to again and once again I said no…he then tried to push me into my housemates room as it was right beside my room. I said no again, obviously I can’t do that it’s my housemate’s room, that’s disgusting. However despite my protest he managed to put me in the room and pushed me onto the bed…and then he left closing the door behind him and holding it shut. I was completely disoriented I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, and then when Rob and John both walked back into the room together it dawned upon and I knew I had to get out as soon as possible…but by that point it was too late. I started to cry, I said no over and over again…but my pleas were simply useless, they obviously had a plan and I had just become part of it despite any protest I made. They both proceeded to rape me, both vaginally and orally, yet I was in too much shock to really fight back, looking back it may have been for the best because I am still here aren’t I? Rob left the room and I managed to twist free from John and ran out of the room. I ran into my room and ran to the window contemplating whether or not to jump onto the roof. I saw one of my friends from across the court and I called out to him and he came over, so I threw a blanket down to him planning on staying at his house. As he turned to walk away John had come in my room and he forcefully grabbed my ass, I whipped around tears pouring down my face and I hit him, I remember saying “Don’t you ever, ever touch me again” and I ran out of the room and down the stairs. There was a group of guys standing at the front door and my roommate was standing in front of them as you aren’t supposed to be in the court if intoxicated…she opened the door for me and I ran across the court into my friend’s house. I grabbed the blanket, but I still didn’t feel safe. After a minute or two of thinking about my choices I decided to leave, I went to my other friend’s house across the court because we were really close and one of my housemates was over there. I went downstairs and sat on the couch, shaking uncontrollably…My housemate came down to see if I was ok…I said I was fine. But of course she knew better, when she asked me if I wanted a hug I burst into tears all over sobbing uncontrollably as I told her and my friend what had happened. I felt dirty, disgusting, violated, lost, hopeless, like I was the one to blame. The next day we went to the hospital, I went in just to get a pap test, yet when I spoke to the nurse she knew that something was wrong, my blood pressure was extremely elevated and I simply couldn’t look her into the eye. With my permission she called in the sexual assault team from Niagara. I was tested for all STD’s, and took many pills…I was ok with that, however when the Doctor started to tell me about AIDS I broke down all over. How could this be? I was a university student at an innocent party just 12 hours before and now here I was sitting in a cold hospital being told I might have AIDS?!?! I was on medication for a month for AIDS, I didn’t have it, and it was simply a safeguard, raising the T-cells to prevent against infection. I was depressed, unable to attend class, and I’m not going to lie about I had thought about just uitting and going home. It was extremely difficult, especially for my parents, who had felt as though they hadn’t protected me enough. I blamed myself for a long time, and in some aspects I still do. Had I not drank all of that alcohol, had I been responsible, had I not fooled around with someone I hardly knew, maybe I wouldn’t be up here talking to you today. As I have put it before, I didn’t rape myself, I put myself in a position where it could be taken advantage of, and unfortunately the type of guys that would take advantage of it happened to be there that night. On the other hand what happened isn’t what makes me as a person it is simply a small part of it…So I ask you today, be responsible. Obviously you are going to drink, but when you do at least keep your wits about you, know what’s going on in your surroundings, and don’t go places alone at night. Yes I realize this was directed mostly towards girls….but guys it CAN happen to you too. At Brock University alone last year there were 3 sexual assaults, and that was what was reported at 1 university…how many weren’t reported? How many happened elsewhere? I don’t want you to be paranoid, I don’t want you to be holed up in your res all year…just be safe when you do go out. And if it does happen, don’t keep it to yourself, get medical help, and get counseling it does help…honestly I still get flashbacks and nightmares, but not near as much as I did before counseling. Everyone here dealt with it amazingly, from my housemates, to security to the Profs that understood the ordeal I was going through. Just remember the best protection you can have is prevention. I hope you take what I have said into consideration, It may save you a lot of heartache in the future. ** all names fictional.