Finding my voice

Poetry from the mind of Charlie Sheen

2011-03-30T17:17:00.000-06:00

A Thoughtless Soul
By Charlie Sheen

As he pulled his head,
From the drool stained pillow,
His eyes blood red,
His oxygen shallow.

Feet on carpet,
That pain to fight,
These are the effects,
Of another night.

A night of drink,
A night of hate,
A night as dark,
As last nights date.

A look to the mirror,
No face of youth,
Self inflicted carnage,
A cracked and hollow tooth.

This punishment a vile choice,
So worthless, yet so bold.
Carving lines of disrespect,
This young lad growing old.

Yet masking truth and hiding pain,
Will surely take it's toll,
Will he unto others, or to himself,
Remain a thoughtless soul?

···

I.D. Blues
By Charlie Sheen

"Excuse me, aren't you...?"
"Hey, you look just like..."
"Oh my God, that's..."
"Sorry to interrupt your dinner, but aren't you..."
"Look, I never do this, but, my wife thinks you're..."
"My friend is so convinced that you're..."
"I'm so embarrassed, but, aren't you...?"
"I know you must be tired of this, but..."
"WAIT!!"
All eyes held in stare, all mouths locked open in shock, as he pulled the latex Charlie Sheen mask from his head, revealing the rotted skull of President Lincoln.

···

Heretic Proof
By Charlie Sheen

Endive, undead, unbroken,
Unwed,
Relax, relate, rehab,
Drug addict,
Pursue, persuade, persist,
Per-petuate [sic] your own death
By smiling a lot.
Supply, succumb, deny—everything.
Always.
Turtle, android, pain.
Endeavor, endless, end.

P.S. Janonis.

#TigerBloodIntern

2011-03-25T17:31:00.003-06:00

Here is my video that I finally unlocked and submitted for the Charlie Sheen Intern search: Round 3!

The question I answered was:

If you were the Social Media Director for a major humanitarian aid organization, how would you create awareness and raise money via social media in the aftermath of a global disaster?

I have my fingers, toes, and eyes crossed in hopes that I will get put through to the next round! And to all the others that have made it this far, Good luck!

Update!

2011-03-21T17:03:00.004-06:00

Yet another #Fastball!

I have now made it to round 3 for Charlie Sheen's social media intern search!! Umm can you say #WINNING!

Anyway, this round I am being asked to make a video answering a question about Social Media. This is going to take some time and effort and much much thinking and brainstorming. Lot's to do! *Runs off to get to work*

And good luck to all the others that made it this far!!

Charlie Sheen's Social Media Intern

2011-03-14T15:49:00.012-06:00

#Fastball

Yes, I have applied to be Charlie Sheen's Social Media Intern. I have made it to round 2 and just sent in my resume for this round. Now time to cross fingers, toes, and eyes to make it to the next round.

I applied because I love love love social media, obviously I use it in every way I can. I have a voice and I want to share it as far as I can. Even though I can be called the social media queen by those who know me, there is still so much to learn and I am eager to learn more in everything I do. What better way to learn then to help run social media for currently the most famous and talked about celebrity!?

As well as learning vast amounts of information on managing social media, this opportunity will also give me such a great platform to lift off with my career. With a platform like this I could be able reach so many people, and with the better knowledge of social media I could project my voice that much louder. In a summer internship like this I could learn how to make my voice louder so I can tell the world my thoughts and ideas. This is a key step for being successful in my career choice. I need my voice to be loud so I can reach all those who are in need of help. As Charlie says, "I've got one speed, GO!" I am always into something new and exciting in my life. I am always in for an adventure and I never let my life go dull. This is why I'm #Winning.

If I was the lucky one to nab the Internship, I could use that in a way no other could. This could be the start of the rest of my #Winning life. My platform for changing the world would just get that much bigger!

I know I am going to get criticism for this but thats the critics prerogative. I know what I am doing and I am going full force into this. My philosophy is to grab at every "Once in a life time" oppertunities that come my way. You only live once so why the hell not!?!?! Take a chance, stand out in the crowd. If you are lucky enough to be different, don't ever change.

H.A.T.E.R.S. = Having Anger Towards Everyone Reaching Success

“We do not get unlimited chances to have the things we want and this I know; nothing is worse than missing an opportunity that could have changed your life.” - From the show Private Practice

50 Things I want to do before I die

2010-12-19T18:12:00.007-07:00

I made this list a few years ago and I intend to cross off every single one of these! The ones in blue are the ones I have already accomplished :)

Save someone's life
Save an abused animal
Meet Keith Urban
Bring the Joyful Heart Foundation to Canada
Publish a book
Get on Dr. Phil
Meet Mariska Hargitay
Start my own Foundation
Donate to the Princess Diana Foundation
Skydive
Meet Mackenzie Phillips
Get Masters in Psychology
Open up my own Psychologist office
Meet Angela Shelton
Go to Europe to visit Princess Diana's grave/museum
Take a trip around the world
Scuba Dive
Get Married
Raise wonderful children
White water rafting
Help out in Africa
Serve hot meals to homeless
Meet Steve Wilkos
Volunteer at Food Bank
Volunteer at hospital
Protest for something I believe in
Donate to the Joyful Heart Foundation
Take Darkness 2 Light training
Be known all over the world for doing something good
Ride in a hummer limo
Educate people on Abuse
Organize a retreat program for sexual abuse victims to heal
Go on the Joyful Heart Foundation's Hawaii retreat program
Be a role model
Volunteer at Big Brothers Big Sisters
Take a child out of an abusive home
Help someone else reach their dreams and goals
Be the reason for a positive change in the world
Learn to love myself
Donate blood
Put a sex offender in jail
Work with cops to put an online predator in jail
Change the way social workers work and make it better for the children
Be a foster parent
Buy a Fearlessness necklace from Joyful Heart Foundation and wear it because I truly live with Fearlessness
Make at least one person smile per day
Work alongside Mariska Hargitay on something we believe in
Never give up
Create a safe place for abuse victims to go
Move to New York City

Life is a crazy, amazing, beautiful ride

2010-12-04T14:27:00.018-07:00

This past week has been one of the wildest most amazing times of my life! It all started out when I heard that one of my hero's, Keith Urban, was going to be in my city performing a free show!! I was so ecstatic that I couldn't even finish the class I was in, I ran out of there and started working out the plans. It turned out that the first 200 people to buy Keith's new C.D. at the mall would get front of the line passes! So of course I just had to camp out at the mall, starting at midnight to make sure I got that pass. That turned out to be one of the most fun crazy nights I have ever had! We call ourselves the Fab 10 ;) I never knew any of these amazing people before that night and because of Keith we have all come together and are like family to each other now. I have memories from that night that I will forever remember, like dancing to the Cha Cha Slide and the Cadillac Ranch at four in the morning for example :D We were the first people in the store that morning and we all got our passes!!!

After this, we all split up and got ready for the big concert happening the next day. We all showed up at the mall bright and early the next morning to wait for Keith!! :D While waiting we made posters and oh so many memories! Our group was interviewed by a few news crews and we were also live on the local country radio station at one point! Also, prior to this I had entered two different contests for front of the line passes, one through the mall it was being hosted at, and one from Keith Urban's website.... I ended up winning BOTH!!!!!! Luckiest most amazing day of my life!! :D I made a postcard for Keith and just wrote a little blurb in it about how he saved my life with his music and his life story. When we all got let in to where he would be playing I was absolutely shocked by how close to the stage and how close I would be to Keith when he came out!!

When the concert started I felt like I was just in a dream land! I was so close to Keith that if I reached out my hand I could touch him! I never thought I would get that close to him in my life. It was that moment that I noticed... Wow, all my dreams are really coming true!" Seeing him on that stage and watching him play that up close was beyond belief! I started thinking about where my life has been in the past and how truly grateful I am that Keith's music came into my life at the perfect moment to save it. A few short years ago I didn't think moments like the one I was experiencing was even possible. I really didn't think life could be this beautiful! I am so so happy that Keith helped me see what life really is and that it really really is worth living! I have been waiting and hoping I would get to tell Keith in person "Thank you for saving my life" and that moment was soon approaching! After the concert was over it was time for the autographs! When it was my time to go up to him I was in total shock! He reached out for my CD to autograph with one hand and went to shake my hand with the other and said "What's your name sweetheart?" After stumbling over my words I managed to get out "Stephanie". He went to start signing the CD and while he was doing that I said to him "I just want to let you know, your music saved my life" Keith paused for a second, stopped signing my CD and looked up into my eyes. The connection that were in our eyes was like no other connection I have ever felt before. He knew exactly what I meant when I said that because he had also been down the road I had and he just got it. Then he said in a soft voice "I am so glad you are here" at that point the tears just swelled up in my eyes because those few words from him was the most powerful thing that was EVER said to me. What he meant when he said that wasn't that he was glad I was there at the concert, it was him saying he was glad I was alive. For a celebrity like Keith Urban to say that to me was just beyond words especially when the opposite message has been thrown at me before in my life. I walked away from that autograph table truly a different person, and the best part was I got to spend the rest of the evening with my new found family and share my excitement and love for life with them all! :D

Now three days later and I am still flying high and still trying to take everything in!!! I was broadcasted on the news right across Canada, I was on the front page of the biggest Newspapers in my city, and a youtube video from the local radio station was put up of me and some of the other Fab 10 girls yelling out "We love you Keith"!!

I can't wait until September 21st to do it all over again, and have a road trip to see him in Calgary on the 23rd! I am so so so so excited! Can't wait to have another experience like that with the rest of the Fab 10!!!! :D

"It's all we've been giving, so you better start living right now cause days go by!" - Keith Urban

Life is what you make it so what are YOU waiting for?! Go for it because dreams DO come true!!!!

Post Secret

2010-10-12T12:43:00.009-06:00

A few days ago I was so blessed to be able to go to a Post Secret Live event! It was one of the most amazing extraordinary moments of my life! If you do not know what Post Secret is click here to view the web site. A guy named Frank Warren started this as a project, he went out on the streets of his town and handed out blank post cards to strangers and asked them to anonymously send him a secret on it. This turned in to a world phenomenon fast, Frank now gets thousand's of secrets every week! Frank to me is a hero especially after seeing him live. A live event is very intimate, its created like this because many people at these events share their secrets including Frank. I deeply respect Frank for creating this environment for people to share their deep dark secrets in a safe and loving way. I have sent in secrets and it was the most amazing feeling to make them and then just drop them in a mail box, I felt so free and happy to be able to leave my secrets. Post Secret was also how I learned the very valuable lesson that I am not alone! While reading secrets I came across many that I could say "Hey, thats my secret too!" I realized how many people out their are going through the exact same thing as I am. This was a huge and healing realization for me and I am sure I am not the only one who has felt this. The live event was just indescribable, there were many laughs and many tears, and so much love in that room. If Post Secret ever comes to your community I HIGHLY recommend you go because I can promise you it will change your life, like it did mine.

‎"It's the children the world almost breaks who grow up to save it." — Frank Warren ♥

‎"Blessed are the cracked, for they let the light shine through" - Guy at the Post Secret event. Thank you

Here are a few secrets that I love and saved

End the Backlog

2010-10-02T11:32:00.010-06:00

Mariska Hargitay never ceases to amaze me! Within the last few weeks Mariska has brought a very big problem to the center of my attention. This is the problem of the backlog of rape kits. A rape kit is performed in a hospital after a sexual assault, the completion of a rape kit takes 4-6 hours and during this 4-6 hours a victim is combed and swabbed for evidence. Having a rape kit complete is very important but it is also very traumatizing for the victim. The evidence collected in a rape kit is key to catching the rapist, so why aren't they being tested! There are hundreds of thousands of rape kits sitting in storage and not being tested. With every untested kit is a rapist still walking the street, and a victim without justice. Testing the rape kit gives the message to victims that their case matters, not testing them is doing the exact opposite, and not to mention we are also telling the rapists that they can get away with what they did.

"The rape kit backlog denies justice for victims and allows perpetrators to remain free" -Mariska Hargitay

Please go to www.endthebacklog.org for more information on the backlog and how you can help.

1 in 6 women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime.

Every 2 minutes, someone in the U.S. is sexually assaulted.

Only 6% of rapists will ever spend a day in jail.

Together we can end the backlog of untested rape kits

The crime of rape has a 24% arrest rate-the lowest recorded arrest rate for rape in nearly 40 years of tracking such information. This means that a rape victim has a one in five chance of seeing her perpetrator brought to justice. It also means that a rapist has a 74% chance of getting away with the crime.

The Joyful Heart Foundation is the most incredible foundation I have ever come across. Mariska and has done so so much with this foundation since she created it in 2005. My top dream in my life is to create the man power to expand this foundation to Canada. I have heard Mariska and other members of Joyful Heart say many time that they wished they had the man power to expand. Well this is my goal and I will not settle until Joyful Heart has expanded to Canada. There is no organization as amazing or powerful as Joyful Heart in Canada and I know we need this here!

Mariska and Joyful Heart

2010-09-10T21:29:00.010-06:00

I have many hero's in my life and every one of them brings me an immense amount of joy. One of these hero's is a woman named Mariska Hargitay, she was the first person to shine a light in the darkness that had become my life. During my depression all I could manage to do was watch tv, but this ended up being what saved me. I quickly got into the show Law & Order Special Victims Unit and this is how Mariska entered my life. She plays detective Olivia Benson on the show and for those who are unaware of what the show is about, she plays a detective who works on sexual assault/child abuse cases. I became engrossed in the show and I still am to this day. I became an extreme fan of Mariska's not only because of her character on the show but also because of her true character. Because of the show and the character she plays, the statistics of sexual violence and child abuse was thrown right in her face. She was appalled with what she was learning and quickly ran to action. She created the Joyful Heart Foundation who's mission is to heal, educate and empower survivors of sexual assault, domestic violence and child abuse and to shed light into the darkness that surrounds these issues. Joyful Heart has so much to offer from incredible healing retreats in Hawaii as well as local Urban retreats for survivors, they educate others on these topics, they spread awareness and they provide resources for those in need of help. A resent mission Mariska has taken on with the Joyful Heart Foundation is to eliminate the backlog of rape kits. In 2009 over 20,000 rape kits nationwide were never sent to crime labs to be tested and thousands more that were sent to crime labs sit there for years waiting to be tested. Mariska even met with members of Congress at the white house to urge efforts to reduce the rape kit backlog.

These are just some of the reason why this heroic woman brings me joy. It's because of her that you are reading these words that I write, it's because of her that I finally stood up and took my life back, it is because of her that I have all this passion burning in my soul. My ultimate goal in life is to work with Mariska in expanding the Joyful Heart Foundation to Canada. I will fight till I take my last breath to make this a reality and not just a dream. That is what brings joy to my life.

Squish

I'd rather be at a Keith Urban concert

2010-08-03T18:30:00.007-06:00

Has there ever been anyone that you have admired so strongly that you can not even find the words to describe how they make you feel? I do and he is a famous country music artist named Keith Urban. I am not just a crazy fan girl who just thinks he really really hot and likes his music, of course I do think those things ;) but my connection with him is deeper then that. He is responsible for saving my life from going down a path of total destruction. There is something about Keith's past that resonates strongly with mine, Keith went down a destructive path of drugs and alcohol, and so did I. He wrote music about addiction and when I first heard them they struck a cord with me deeper then I have ever felt before. There is actually not a single song of Keith's that doesn't resonant with me on a deep personal level. There was a really really strong message in his music and that changed my life. After hearing his story and seeing how Keith Urban made it out of the hell he was in, I did the same thing. I can't even describe what I feel in my heart when I hear his music. Whenever I wanted to turn back to my old habits I would turn on his music and sing it on the top of my lungs and I would remember I am not the only one going through this.

Also his wife Nicole Kidman is a very big activist for violence against women, she has dedicated countless hours with the organization "Say NO - UNiTE: End Violence Against Woman" So she is also such an amazing amazing person and together they are a dynamic duo x 1,000,000!!

This is just one of the MANY songs of Keith's that saved my life:

"We all drink to forget

Some of us more than most

When reality gets too real

And the fires of hell to close

But I'm here to let you know

That you can make it through

If you believe that someone is watchin' over you

And call it an angel

Call it a muse

And call it karma that you've got comin' to you

What's the difference

What's in a name

What matters most is never ever losin' faith

'Cause it's gonna be alright

You're not alone tonight"

I wish there were words to describe what I feel about him and his music but there isn't. I get so emotional, in a good way, whenever I see him live. The first time I saw him it was huge for me because this was the man I owned my healthy happy life to, at the end of his concert his big screen had the words "Just Believe" written all over it, then confetti feel from the ceiling... it was one of the most magical moments of my life. I cried tears of pure joy and there was this great sense of love and passion for life. I wish I could explain better what I feel but I just can't because there is no words.

Keith Urban is like no other for performing live! He is amazing at connecting with the audience and he respects everyone that comes out to see him because he never stays on the stage, Keith is always running around the entire place and performing a few songs on a mini stage near the back for those who don't have such great seats. He also has a reputation for yelling at security to leave people alone. It's great, he makes sure everyone is having a great time. I have such high respect for him and the way he cares about so many people. Keith is also involved in many many charities, one of his favorites is a Children's Hospital.

One of the many wishes I have is to meet this incredible man and tell him how much he means to me and let him know what great impact he has had in my life. I am so grateful and proud to be an ultimate fan of Keith Urban and now you can start to understand why.

“I'm lettin' go of all my lonely yesterdays, I've forgiven myself for the mistakes I've made.” - Keith Urban

Friendship

2010-07-29T16:03:00.009-06:00

In the past few weeks I have learned many lessons involving friendships. Many of them turned to smoke while the others grew stronger during this whole ordeal. I got to learn who exactly my true friends are and who they are not. Yes, I admit at first I did feel sad and heartbroken that what I thought were friendships were actually not, but then I figured out the lesson that was placed in this mess and then I grew happy that I can now understand the difference between my real friends and those who are not. I am glad that I have gotten this opportunity to understand this because I was able to weed out those who can hurt me and figure out those who never would. There is no room in my life for those who back stab, lie, or end a friendship just over a person opinion. I look at this now as a test, the test of friendship and where people's alliances really lie. There is a song that I have always loved called "find out who your friends are" by Tracy Lawrence and he talks about how many people who claim to be our friends will be there during the good times but run and hide during the bad times. I think this is the trick to figuring out who true friends are. Those who are with you through thick and thin, good and bad, are the ones who you should call friends. My favorite lyrics to this song are:

"Everybody wants to slap your back, wants to shake your hand when you're up on top of that mountain but let one of those rocks give way then you slide back down, look up and see who's around then"

I have always been told that true friends can be counted on one hand and that is very true. So I consider myself very very blessed to have a few in my life.

I do not need to state who these true friends are in a blog because they already know who they are. I have an emormous amount of love for those who are still in my life. To those of you who are, take your left arm and put it on your right sholder, then take your right hand and put it on your left sholder. Now give a big squezze. That was a hug from me.

I love you, Squish! xoxo

"A friend is one who knows us, but loves us anyway." -- Fr. Jerome Cummings

"The only way to have a friend is to be one." -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Do not protect yourself by a fence, but rather by your friends." -- Czech. Proverb

"Don't cry over anyone who won't cry over you." -- Annoymous

Fathers Day 2010

2010-06-21T00:16:00.008-06:00

Fathers Day 2010 is officially over and this year was the first year that I was truly joyful and happy despite the holiday and all the unwanted emotions that it brings up. The key to this was leaning that if fathers day reminds you of things missing or broken, let others meet you in those places. You are not alone. You deserve love. Instead of wallowing in my room and being angry at the people who should be there for me in my life but are not I decided to laugh and surround myself with supportive people and let go of any undesired feeling I was having.

I learned also that I could adopt a Dad to praise and celebrate Fathers day for. I thought of all the amazing fathers, husbands, and all around great guys that are out there and and wished them a very happy fathers day and I kept reminding myself that those are the people this holiday is for.

During the day I dug up some old poems that I had stuffed away and this is what I found,

You froze me with your coldness

the sternness in your eyes

The pain I feel when you scream at me

The feeling that multiplies

Around you I feel so stupid

Like I don't mean a thing

Our relationship is a constant battle

Like a fight in a boxing ring

Your face shows how you feel about me

I know those thoughts you think

An immature,lazy, waste of time

in my tears I begin to sink

But the one thing I regret Daddy

The one thing in the whole world

is that I won't ever be able to honestly say

I was Daddy's little girl

When I reread this I had a wave of emotions that washed over me. At first I felt sadness for the little me that wrote this, then I grieved for what I don't have in my life, then I was sad for all the others that feel this way on Father's day and every other day of the year. After that I became happy and proud at where I am today and I am so blessed that I am no longer that girl who wrote that poem. I am free and I am living a joyful life because I no longer let this issue get the better of me. I finally learned to let go and accept the way things are and I am OKAY with it. I have amazing people in my life who love and support me. I may not share DNA with these people but they are my family. Family does not mean those who share blood and marriage ties with you, family are the people YOU choose. When I first learned this I wrote a little poem for one of my best friends who has been there for me through thick and thin because she is a part of my family.

Family is the ones who care the most about you

Family is the ones you would give a kidney too

Family is the ones that would do anything to get you through

Family is the ones that give you the courage to pursue

Family is the ones that deserve the biggest thank you

Family is, to me, people like you!

xoxo

Squish!

YES YES YES

2010-06-08T18:43:00.010-06:00

I haven't wrote a blog post since March, I think it's about time I write.

Lately I have been hearing the word "No" a lot and I don't like it. "No, you won't be able to do that." "No, it's to hard." "No, thats not a good idea." Why can't people let me deside what I can and can't do. In the past I have let a lot of good opportunities just slip away from me because I gave in to their "No's", that stops now. Everytime I hear the word No I am going to shout YES!

I have a dream of being on a national talk show to share my story and to spread a national awearness on sexual abuse but so many people told me No. Well I am now trying anyway! I started a group on Facebook for those who don't already know and you can find it here. Please join this group if you already haven't and please invite your friends to join too. I have had a friend of mine contact one of Dr. Phil's producers about me and my dream and I plan on writing to another one of his producers when I get the facebook group big enough so I can show the producer just how many people want to see this happen. So my dream of being on a national talk show to speak out... YES YES YES!!!

I have been wanting to get Angela Shelton to come to my community for a while now to speak to students about the epidemic of sexual abuse and domestic violence but yet again I got No, No, No because people say it costs to much money. Well I am going to say YES YES YES!! I can raise the money on my own if thats what it takes. One of my idea's now is to host a spaghetti supper and maybe have a silent auction. One of my freinds plays guitar and sings so he could provide entertainment. I was also thinking about streaming it live on my Ustream account for people who do not live here but would still wish to attend and set up a donations account for those who wish to help. I am already awear that it's going to be a lot of hard work but I am willing to do anything and everything to have this a sucsessful event. I don't need people constantly telling me that its going to be hard and that I shouldn't do it. I can decide that for myself. So my idea of planning events to bring Angela Shelton here to change lives... YES YES YES!!!

I have decided to take every No that is slapped in my face and slap it right back by saying YES and accomplishing what I set out to do!

What about you? Do you give in to people who always tell you No? Put an end to that today!

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!!!

24 hour Blogathon: Many Thank you's

2010-03-28T05:57:00.001-06:00

This has been an amazing 24 hours!!!!!

Thank you ALL for your ongoing support. Ever since the day I got this crazy idea, I have had so much support from so many people and I am so thankful for you all! I am so amazed and surprised with those who stepped up to the plate and helped with donations and sharing their stories. Thank you so very much. This wouldn't have worked without your help. Thank you for helping survivors from all over heal and lead joyful lives.

I want to give a very big thank you to Megan and Joanna for inspiring me to follow in your footsteps with regards to doing this blog-a-thon. It was one of the best experiences I have ever had!

I also want to give a shout out to Vanessa for being the best Chat Jesus ever during this blog-a-thon and keeping the "worms" out. I very much appreciate it. Thank you!!!

And last but not least I want to give a BIG THANK YOU to Angela Shelton for helping me take my life back. Thank you for being the inspiring, life changing, goof ball that you are. You rock Angela, I love you, Squish!

Okay, now it's time for SLEEP!! My bed is calling out for me!

24 hour Blogathon:Memories of the night

2010-03-28T04:44:00.002-06:00

This has been some of most amazing hours of my life. This was the most fun anyone can have on a saturday at home.

First we will start by recalling the moment I feel off of my chair. What a hoot that was!! LOL and I wasn't even intoxicated! That's what sleep depravation will do to you.

I still can't believe I got the courage to dance to the Macarena, the chicken dance, and the Cadillac Ranch, MULTIPLE times! I think it was a rather smart idea to tell everyone I would dance like a lunatic on live camera if they sent in donations. I worked out rather swell because I got tons of donations and danced my heart out. Angela you have some dance competition I think. This October we will have a dance off at the conference! ;)

Also there is the amazing moments of connecting and meeting so many others. I have made so many connections by doing this Blog-a-thon with some amazing people. I am so thankful they found me and this blogathon! I really learned who my supporters really are after doing this.

I am so thankful for the Army of Angels for supporting me through this from the beginning. I have found my family in all of you. Thank you

I love you, Squish!

24 hour Blogathon: Kendra's Story

2010-03-28T03:43:00.002-06:00

Kendra wants you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

I was sexually abuse when I was an early teen and it almost destroyed my life. Everyone around me decided to ignore what was going on so I had no one to turn to and no one to support me. I felt so alone. I started drinking everyday and that quickly turned into regular drug use. I went in a downwards spiral very quickly. I started self-mutilating on top of everything else because I was just begging for someone to listen to my story and help me. I acted out in every way I could think of because I wanted someone, anyone, to help me escape the hell my world had become. Suicide was something that I thought about on a regular bases and it still scares to to think back at how close I came to ending my own life. I realized that I really didn't want to die, I just wanted the pain to stop. I was so desperate for help so I decided to start researching on the internet. It didn't take me long to find an online support system for people dealing with exactly what I was (www.pandys.org) This site changed my life very fast. I found so many people who were going through the same thing as me and I didn't feel so alone anymore. I was inspired by all the people I had befriended and I decided to change my life. I quit drinking, doing drugs and self mutilating because I wanted to claim my life back. I al so thankful for the support system I have built and the amazing friendships I have made. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them.

24 hour Blogathon: Sallyann's Story

2010-03-28T02:46:00.001-06:00

Sallyann wants you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

"THE STEALING OF MY CHILDHOOD AND BEYOND"...

Once upon a time there was a little blonde blue-eyed girl who was living a normal childhood. She was so full of imagination and life, just finding her way like most little ones do. I loved most of all going to Gramma's house. It was so exciting to go visit Gramma...I could be like a normal child and have special memories at that time. For some reason I can still hear the sounds of roosters as I would wake up in the morning, not giving a care in the world...for that time was so special.

My life did change drastically when I was close to 10 yrs, because as you see I also loved my Dad. My Dad was very sick of cancer and passed away at 36 yrs. It was so strange and confusing, for at that time no one seem to care how the children felt. My siblings and myself were just expected to just grow up. I do understand my mother being overwhelmed by everything, but it really did start a childhood ending for me.

At the time when I was 12 yrs., I was sleeping at my grandparents house...sleeping innocently like most children do....then my life changed. My mother's brother came into my bed and assaulted me...he raped me! I didn't even know that was what women and men do...I was such an innocent child. Since then my childhood was over. I think I was in shock, no, I know I was in shock for sometime. I remember just being stunned and remember people around me seeing a change, but words could not come out. I felt it was me that did something wrong. I took it on myself. He tried again when I was sleeping outside in a tent. I can still hear the sounds of the zipper of the sleeping bag opening, to get at me once again. I knew it was wrong and just ran into the house and slept on the couch, like nothing ever was. He wouldn't do that to me again. From there everything changed around me. I had no self-esteem, I never felt safe. In elementary school I was such a good student, but now everything changed...I felt good for nothing. It was so painful looking back at it now and see so clearly how drastically it destroyed my development. How I got through my high school days, I don't know.

Once again I got myself into a situation that I couldn't understand at the time. As I said my mother was overwhelmed by everything and really didn't want us around...mostly because I was bringing her trouble. She drove myself and two other siblings to a bar, all under aged, as she wanted to spend time with her boyfriend. While there since I had never drank so much before, had drank so much and ended up blacked out. There was a man who apparently was watching me and told my brother he would take me home. My brother was just as innocent as I was and let me go with him, not having a clue the danger lurking. I only have some flashes of what happened that night. At 15 yrs. old, I was then pregnant by a person who took advantage of me in that state. I will never know who this person is. Nine months later I gave birth to a baby boy. Once again my mother was harping on me, "her problem child"...she loved to blame for these things that happened to me as a child. I just wanted to scream at her, "IT'S NOT ME!" My son was placed for adoption and could only hope he was in a family of a Mom and Dad and would be taken very good care of...I could only hope...

When I was in my early twenties, I finally told her what her brother did to me, only to be dismissed and shut up, telling me the past is the past...to this day I hate that saying. Since then I know I don't have her support and know it is a lost cause...she still wants a relationship with him. So be it.....I have been blessed by choosing three wonderful women as my mother who do support me.

Now for the real special part...I finally was able to meet my son, 30 yrs. later. My life went into a tail spin...in a good way...my life has forever changed. I also found out I am a grandmother...WOW...what a great feeling! I feel so blessed to have them in my world, after all the trauma I went through as a child. Call it God, call it karma, we don't know. The only way I can explain it is to have so many things taken away as a child, but then the universe giving back what is rightfully ours for the keeping. I have my own family and am still in awe. From this I have found healing and onto a new chapter in my world..............

24 hour Blogathon: Emily's story

2010-03-28T01:45:00.003-06:00

Emily wants you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

I forget how old I was exactly or when the first time was…I’ll say anywhere between 8 and 10…I have a horrible memory even now but I don’t think its because I blocked things out? I think it’s just something I have….my Mum and brother have bad memories too.

Anyway,

I lived in an apartment complex…it’s a family building so there are lots of kids; it was great always having playmates around. It was my friend’s Dad…

This will be choppy as I only remember bits.

He’d take me down to the back bedroom, the master bedroom. It was always messy with laundry all over the floor; I remember the baby’s crib in there and a digital clock on a nightstand.

He liked ropes…and making knots.

I think a lot of the time was spent with him just tying my wrists up tightly with different types of knots. Sometimes his daughter was around (she was a couple years younger than me) but mostly we were alone.
When he was done he’d always rub my wrists and I can remember him kneeling in front of me saying something to me about telling but I have no idea what.

I don’t think it was a threat.

Thank god I was cold all the time, I was always in long sleeves and sweaters…the rope burn lasted for days sometimes. My Mum thankfully never noticed.

Sometimes he’d gag me too, I hated that most of all.
First it was with one of those red kerchief things, sometimes used for a neck or headscarf.
Those weren’t bad…tied around my face and just partially in my mouth…but he discovered that you could still make a lot of sound.
He’d get me to try to see if I could speak.
Eventually he’d ball up a large sock and ram it into my throat and then tie the kerchief around my face…I couldn’t say anything or scream (not that I ever would have done that) because if I did anything other than breath slowly through my nose…I think I would have choked.

His wife knew it was going on, she walked in once and he just told her to get out, another time she brought him a coffee.

I hate myself even now for going back but S. was my friend and I liked playing with her, plus they always had the coolest toys and games. I was old enough to know better and no matter how many times I hear “It wasn’t your fault” how can I possibly believe that when I KEPT GOING BACK :X

I remember once…S had been put to bed at 7pm…I had to leave at 8….I remember staring at the digital clock while he tied his ropes over and over and played with the gag, for the first time ever he dropped my pants…I think he may have even asked me if I could. I’m not sure.

He made the rope come down between my legs but I don’t think he touched me, I just remember standing there, pants around my ankles with my white knickers on…and the rope tied all around me.

The clock hit 8 and I told him I had to go home, I had school the next day.
He told me to wait there and got up and left the room. Somehow I made it over to the door and leaned out, he called my Mum and asked her if I could stay another hour because S. and I were having so much fun playing….

I hopped she would say no, she didn’t like me out late on a school night, plus I was supposed to have a bath before bed.
But she said yes…I wanted to die.

When I got home I closed the front door and slid down it to the floor crying, she asked what was wrong but I just told her I felt sick..

Didn’t go to school the next day…

After that I tried to avoid him, I knew he didn’t get home from work until 3 so if I went over to play and was out before then…I was safe.
I’d call and ask casually who was around.
One time I got there and he was there…she whispered that she was sorry but that he told her to tell me that :X

I don’t think I went over again after that…

Another time when my older brother and I were home sick he knocked on my door, he knew my Mum wasn’t home (he’d probably seen her leave) and asked if he could come in, I didn’t get to say a word before he pushed me sideways and came in.
Thankfully my brother came out of his room at that moment and told him to get out…

He had no idea what had been going on but by then everyone knew he was a bit weird…

Up until about a couple years ago my brother and I were never close, he still has no idea what he saved me from that day.

The guy would peek out his window with a camera and take pictures of us kids outside, he’d even try and hide in the bushes and chase us around…one time he came to the door with a photo of my and some other kids he had taken, and he managed to get himself in the shot too….I tore the damn thing up the second he left.
I still have one photo years later…he’s not in it but me and my friends are…no one around here had a camera so I think that’s why I kept it.

I also remember once when I was over there him showing me a photo album with his niece in it, I’d met her when she came to stay with them for a week, she was about 16 and I thought she was super awesome.
To this day I couldn’t describe the photos…but I know they were “sexy” shots or something inappropriate.

One day a bunch of kids were over…one of them was my friend J, he took her down to the bedroom leaving the group to watch a movie.
Her brother got suspicious and went down the hall then burst in the bedroom….

Grabbed her and they ran out…

He told his parents and his Dad went over there pounding on the door screaming that he was going to kill him, I remember this because everyone around here could hear him o-o

The next day they were drinking buddies again…

He also did something to another girl I knew, I wasn’t friends with her but I was friends with her older sister…
She was the first person to tell…
The cops were called, I remember looking out the window, as the children were taken away screaming and crying.
It came out that he had been doing things to them too…

Cops showed up at my door one day wanting to talk to me, apparently he had mentioned my name but they wouldn’t say why, just interviewed me.
I lied and said he never did a thing to me…

They left with a mention that I may need to testify and I cried for days, I was so sick.
Never ended up having to, he pleaded guilty and the last thing I heard was he got probation, told to stay away from children.
The wife had a choice of the kids or him, she picked him and they all went into foster care…

I’ll always blame myself for not saying anything and stopping him in the beginning, all those kids that came after me, my fault.
And many years later after a falling out with the one friend she went all out and said to me "If you had just TOLD, my sister would never have been molested. You have to live with that forever"

It didn't affect me much till later, I hated affection...
Didn't even have my first kiss until I was 29 and finally found someone I was comfortable with (sadly he broke up with me and later I found out he'd been cheating... =\)

I think I became a survivor the day I found Pandy's and started using it, I was actually looking for a rape support forum for a friend and ended up sticking around.

24 hour Blogathon: Megans Story

2010-03-27T23:17:00.001-06:00

Megan wants you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

In January of 2009 I was at my dad's house. He was having a party and there was drinking and drugs involved. They were all outside, and I went inside to go to bed. This guy followed me inside. He went into the kitchen and I went to my room. He got a knife and came into my room. He opened my door, and come and sat on my bed. He told me to do what he said or he would kill me. and pulled out a knife. He took my clothes off and said, "You are perfect for me." "I have never loved anyone this much." He then put the knife to my throat, put his hand over my mouth, and raped me. After he was done he told me if I ever told anyone he would come find me and kill me. He told me he would be back to my dad's and he would do it again. I didn't know who the guy was, but I was really scared! I went to my dad's several times after this, and he never came back. I didn't tell anyone until 6 months later at church camp. Then, I went to Holly's House and talked to the detective. I haven't seen or talked to my dad since July 4th. We have court on March 31st, to get visitations taken away since my dad won't give any information. My dad told my mom that he wants to protect his friend and not me. Thanks to all of my support! Especially Holly!

24 hour Blogathon: Michelle's Story

2010-03-27T22:44:00.002-06:00

Michelle wants you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

I am the girl with a smile that hardly fads. But deep in side I hurt more then anyone sees. I would never wish my life on my worst enemy, or these night terrors on anyone for any sort. This is my story of the pain and hardship I hide deep inside.

Most girls talk about their first time with some sence of pride and embrassent. For me this was just the start of my horror.

Lossing your innocence by choose is one thing, but by force is another story. He druggged me, held me down, and had his way. The details and flash scences I will never forget. These will hunt me the rest of my life. But for I thought this would be the last time I fell victim to horror. Sadly I was mistaken.

It was just after school, the sun warm on my back and I was heading home to deal with another day and life in the home of (WWIII). While walking to the bus I had heard my name being called in the distance. Looked over and had noticed who was standing there. My abusive so called boyfriend that I was trying to run from. My default though the the fear that he had put into me. Only so many punches and hits to the body can one take before they emotionally break. With the fear of being killed, the fear of him I followed his wishes and went to talk to him. The busses left. There I was no ride to home. He told me to come with him. I pleaded with him to just let me leave and go home. This was not acceptable to him. He wanted me to stay no matter what he would have to do to enforce it. There I was scared as hell being drug around town with this so called man. If I would say something wrong he would hit me. He wanted sex yet I didnt. I just wanted to go home. Trying so desperately to find connect with the world behind his back became harder every day. Found myself living on the streets, holding crack cocaine for him so he didnt get caught. Dragging from place to place. I was kidnapped. Living on the streets, not eating, and being raped everytime he wanted sex. I could never feel safe. I never did feel safe.

After seven horrofying days I finally was picked up by the RCMP and taken back to my moms. I hoped and prayed to God that this was the end of all thsi horror. I was wrong.

I had found out that I was pregnant. How could this be. I was so young. This was so unfair. I have wanted to have a family all my life. So I could have someone I love with all my heart that would never leave me. I know what I had to do. And so I did. I told him that I was pregnant.

He flipped out when I showed him my pregnancy test. From there I just remember him beating me. Over and over again. Till I was laying there in my own pool of blood. I had lost the most presious thing to me. As a mother you are supposed to protect your young. Instead mine got killed. I lost my baby. I lost my everything. My world. It had gotten taken from me unfairly.

Finally I stood up and got a restraining order. And have been trying my damdest to advoid him at all costs. The stalking still hasnt stopped. The night mares still come. There are still times I go through flashbacks in my sleep where I can feel the everything all over again. As if a movie playing in my mind.

But I am the girl who will still have a smile on my face. And swear to everyone that I will NEVER let another girl go through the same thing I have gone through. I am strong, and with the power of God I ca get through this. I am me. I am a women. And I will one day forgive but never foget.

I CAN STAND STRONG.

24 hour Blogathon: Amy's Story

2010-03-27T21:57:00.001-06:00

Amy want's you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

My name is Amy and I’m going to share a bit of my story with you, as part of Stephanie’s blog a thon. I’m 28 years old and am diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. I was diagnosed with this about a year and a half ago, but I’ve known for much longer that this was my problem.I just couldn’t get anyone to listen. In fact, people thought I was crazy that I thought I had this. I didn’t have a horrible childhood filled with trauma. My parents loved me and even spoiled me at times. They bought me a horse at 15, who I can honestly say has saved my life. I was headed down a path of drugs and destruction and he brought me back. Anyway, during the last year or so I have learned that I was an overly sensitive kid whose parents didn’t validate her emotions.I was constantly told to stop crying, get over it, put my big girl panties on, etc. I also felt that I never measured up. I am not sure why, I think they did the best they could. My insecurities came across as jealousy towards my brother and I was constantly given a hard time about that.This, on top of some somewhat traumatic experiences spread out throughout my years, causes Borderline. That’s what they say anyway. I did well in school and I was a perfectionist. I had to get good grades, and this only escalated the further I got in school. I graduated college in 2003 with a degree in Criminal Justice. I had no idea what I wanted to do but I knew I wanted to get away from my family and get out of Texas. I moved to California where I managed to land a great job at a psychiatric unit for adolescents. Ironic, huh? Anyway, I also worked in a group home for teenage girls and met some amazing kids who I hope I helped in some way. Fast forward a bit to when something just went a bit “haywire” as my grandpa used to say. I had recently broken up with a somewhat abusive boyfriend, I was stressed out and my medication wasn’t right. Little did I know, I was experiencing horrible anxiety. I had a stupid argument with a coworker that I probably started because I was edgy and looking for a fight. I left her on a bad note and called my mom. I told her I was going to run my car into the barrier on Highway 280 in San Jose because I didn’t want to live anymore. She called my dad who happened to be in town and made him stay with me that night. Who knows what would have happened if he wasn’t there. By this time, I was already fully engaged in self harm behaviors and probably moving towards the height of that addiction. The next day, I was taken to the hospital but not admitted, thank God. They changed my medications and made me attend some groups. I decided at that point, that I needed to get back to my family where I could be supervised for my own safety. Moving back was great at first. My horse was much closer and I was back at home with my dog, who couldn’t come with me to CA. The honeymoon period ended when it took forever to get a decent job. I eventually was hired by the county as a probation officer. Bingo! Dream job! This will fix everything. Not so much. I did ok for awhile then the pressure of work started to get to me. I was cutting more and more and somewhat neglecting my personal appearance. I was severely depressed. One day, my boss saw my scars. She asked if I wanted to talk about it and I didn’t put up a fight. I spent over 3 hours that night talking to her. She was the first person to help me realize that not only did I have to change, but that I could. The reality was that if I didn’t quit this and deal with whatever it was going on in my head (at this time I didn’t have a diagnosis of Borderline) that I would die, likely by suicide. To save time, let’s just say that the next year was very up and down with my recovery from cutting and overdosing. I almost ended up in the hospital…again. I have since switched therapists and was diagnosed as BPD so I could begin working on skills to deal with it. Although I said I have known for several years that I have had BPD, it took a skilled therapist to realize what was going on in my head that I couldn’t talk about. We both agree that I have made so much progress, but that I have so much more to go. I am going to have to deal with this for the rest of my life and I need to accept that.

I have only recently started to think that I will survive. I still have bad days but I refuse to be a victim to Borderline. My therapist has helped me realize that this isn’t the end of the world and I can overcome this. I will always thank my boss, who is also my friend. I don’t know where I would be if our lives hadn’t crossed paths. Probably dead, to be honest.

I am currently in school, pursuing a Master’s in Professional Counseling so I can help people like me. I have this passion for helping others, in the way that I was desperately hoping someone would help me for so long. I want to help people how my therapist has helped me. I still go back and forth a lot in my head, about whether or not I can succeed, whether or not I’m worth this and whether or not I am crazy but it’s the nature of the beast. I have continued to struggle with cutting but it’s much less than it was. I hope one day that I can say I’m a recovered self-injurer.

I have only recently discovered Angela Shelton and the Army of Angels. I am planning on embarking on her 30 day journey, which may take longer than that, but I am in this to recover from whatever is going on in my head. My frame of mind is already better just from interacting with the Angels and the thought of success. It will only get better, I am confident!

Thanks for reading!

XOXO Amy

24 hour Blogathon: Prudence's story

2010-03-27T20:54:00.002-06:00

Prudence wants you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

It was a grad night, not mine, but it was a few years ago. I'm thinking I was 15 at the time. I decided to go out and celebrate and have some drinks. Mom knew I was going out drinking and that, and she always let me so that way I would be comfortable telling her where I was going and who I was with. So anyway, I ended up drinking a lot more than I should have, and I was more than drunk. A few of my friends tried to get me to go home at 5 the next morning, but I insisted on staying out later. I had a huge crush on a guy at the time, his name was "Kyle." I was talking to a guy who I knew a little from school, "Mike," and he told me a few people were going to someone's house, and that "Kyle" would be there. I was really excited about him being there and I was planning on trying to talk to him and get to know him more and this and that, but we didn't end up going to the guys house. Instead I ended up at "Mike's" with just me and him. I started to feel a little sick from drinking so much, and I could barley stand up, so he brought me to his bed. The next thing I knew, he was taking my clothes off me and I was pushing him away. I later woke up to find him having anal sex with me, without a condom. I kept telling him to get off me and he kept saying "I'll soon be finished." I began to cry and that's when he finally stopped, and I rushed to put my clothes on and I left right away. Because I live in such a small town, word got out pretty quick and I was known as "Anal Queen" and apparently I was like a "dead fish" in bed. It really hurt me to get on the bus to school and have people call me all kinds of names because of it, and I used to hate myself for it. I always thought; "I shouldn't have drank so much," or "I should of went home with my friends," or "I should have known better than to go out with some guy I barley knew." I didn't tell anyone about it when it happened, and I didn't tell any of the people making fun of me what really happened. I didn't go to the hospital and get checked right away, but waited for that time of the year when I would normally get my pap test. I really regret doing that. I could have had an STI or even been pregnant (luckily I didn't), and if I waited those things could have got worse over time, and I wish I would have gone to someone, my parents or a family friend. I think if I did I wouldn't have hated myself for so long. I felt like no guy would ever want me, as I was known around my town as a "skank" and "easy."
It was a year or so later, I was going steady with a guy, and he was really sweet and caring and he meant a lot to me. I finally opened up to him and told him what happened, and it was him who made me realize that none of it was my fault. I was having fun like any normal teenager and "Mike" took advantage of me. I know I could have been stronger, but I shouldn't blame myself. He also said a lot of nasty things about "Mike" that made me laugh and feel better at the time. It was then that I became a survivor rather than being a victim. I learned from this experience, that I should be more careful who I place my trust in, and if I do plan on drinking I should go with a friend to watch out for me, and I should better limit myself and watch out for myself. It has also made me watch out for my friends more too, as I know what can happen and I wouldn't ever want any of my friends to go through the same things I did.
I still haven't been comfortable enough to talk to my parents about it, but I have confided in some close friends who also helped me through it. I hope that anyone who reads this or hears this will be strong enough to tell someone if they too have been victims, and I hope it can help you too realize that it's not your fault, and you shouldn't ever think that it is.

Be sure to check out my Ustream where I am broadcasting live!

24 hour Blogathon: Heather's story

2010-03-27T19:53:00.001-06:00

Heather wants you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

“I don’t believe in self-pity, it only brings you down. May be the queen of broken hearts, but I don’t hide behind the crown. When the deck is stacked against me, I just play a different game.My roots are planted in the past, and though my life is changing fast, who I am is who I want to be…I’m a survivor.” -Reba McEntire

Like everyone, I was born. Like everyone, I grew up. And just like everyone, someday, I’m going to die. This is the basic format of how anyone’s life will play out; however, it is what happens in the time that differentiates one person from another. The life experiences—good and bad; the pain, the suffering, the joy, the sorrow, the big events, the little, everyday things—it all shapes a person into who they are, where they will go, and what they will do with their life. My life has been full of ups and downs like anyone else, but there are a few things that happened to me that inevitably and irrevocably changed me. It’s only been recently that I’ve come to terms with the fact that while what happened to me was terrible, it molded me into who I am, and now, there’s no one else I’d rather be.

My name is Heather and I was a victim.

Perhaps the most monumental things to happen in my life involved the same person, but happened years apart. When I was a little girl, the exact age I am unsure of, I was molested by our next door neighbor’s grandson who is seven years older than me. While I can recall in detail only one specific incident, my heart and the statistics I’ve learned tell me it happened more than that. Fast forward several years and you will find me, at fifteen, in a manipulative and coercive sexually, emotionally and mentally abusive relationship with the same person who molested me as a child. This “relationship” went on from the time that I was fifteen until I was almost twenty years old, and it wasn’t until I was twenty-two that I began to understand what happened to me and learned how to deal with it healthily and correctly. I went through years of promiscuity, drinking, and drug abuse to deal with what had happened—what was happening—to me. I blamed myself, I convinced myself that I could have stopped him and that I shouldn’t have let him do what he did. Later I would realize that my choice had been taken away from me from the very start. Unconsciously, I felt the need to have some sort of control over my situation and when I realized that abusing my own body with drugs, sex, and alcohol wasn’t working, I found myself with a need to help others. I wanted to help victims of sexual assault, even though at the time, I didn’t identify myself as one. I did some research and signed up for the sixty-five hour training course to become a First Response Advocate. In this position, I was on-call and would respond to the hospital, prison, or doctor’s office when a case of sexual assault or molestation was reported. There I would counsel the survivor, sit with them during their exam, and offer them resources and referrals on how to help them deal with what had happened to them. I felt as if I had finally found my place in this world. However, I didn’t realize that by helping others, I was hindering my own recovery. About a year and a half later when a series of unfortunate events happened in my life (accident, car-jacking, death of a loved one) I realized that while I had been good at pretending for a while, I was not strong enough to help others and that I had been using the need to help others heal to avoid allowing myself to heal. I stepped down from my position and began the treacherous task of working on myself. Months into my own personal recovery process, I finally told my family what had happened to me; both when I was a child and when I was a teenager, and after that, my healing went from nearly non-existent to almost complete. I had held those secrets inside of me for so long that it was hard to tell if I was suffering from the trauma of what actually happened to me, or if I was suffering from the weight of carrying it all on my own. Now I know it was a combination of the two.

Sexual assault, rape, molestation, whatever word you choose to call it—to me they all mean the same thing, i.e. your choice was taken away from you—is something that changes you. It’s not something you will ever get over and it’s definitely not something that’s easy to deal with. But with proper self-care and the support of good people in your life, I do believe that you can recover and go on to lead a healthy, fulfilling life. I am proof of that and one day, regardless of how you feel now or where you are in your recovery process, you will too.

I can’t explain how freeing and empowering it is to finally figure out who I am. Where I came from, where I’ve been, and where I hope to go in my life; all of it is so clear to me now. I am hard-working and I go non-stop. I work and fight for what I believe in. I persevere even when I don’t think I have one more ounce of strength in me to do so. I cry a lot, but I laugh even more. I’m smart, I’m caring, I’m passionate, and I’m compassionate. I go the extra mile for another person even when I find there aren’t that many people willing to do the same for me. I’m sympathetic, empathetic, easily wound up, but sometimes easy-going. I’m sensitive but I’m also strong. I’m always learning, always growing, and constantly changing.

My name is Heather and I am a survivor.

24 hour Blogathon: Lacy's story

2010-03-27T18:53:00.002-06:00

Lacey wants you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

My dad was a child molester, who sexually abused and manipulated my sister and I for many years. My mom was oblivious (or at least in denial) the whole time. When my parents divorced (I was 14 and my sister was 10) we were given the choice of who to live with - I went with mom, my sister went with dad. A year later, my sister told a friend of hers about the abuse, the friend told her mom... it got back to my dad rather than being reported to any authorities.

My dad chose to commit suicide. He shot himself in the head, right in front of my sister (11 years old then). He told her it was all her fault, that if she'd have kept her mouth shut, her sisters would still have a father.

Between this heartbreaking event and the abuse my sister and I went through as kids, our whole lives and all of our family has been deeply affected for years and years - to this day.

My sisters and I have all gone through abusive relationships with controlling, manipulative boyfriends, and only in recent years have we really begun to deal with and understand what we we went through.

My sister is still struggling to come to terms with things, and probably will always have some trouble. PTSD is a given, and seems like an understatement. She's a fighter though, and has overcome drug addiction and other challenges. We stay in touch, and keep each other strong. Thank God for sisters, they let you know you aren't crazy.

I have been through a marriage with a very controlling, manipulative, verbally/emotionally abusive guy, who thought it would be better to sell and use methamphetamine than to actually work a real job, and who kept me in my place by constantly threatening to take my children from me. He went to jail, and I got away. Now I am committed to choosing healthy and happy situations for me and my children to live in - I realized that I had to break the cycle. (I never got physically beat up, but in my opinion, emotional/psychological abuse is just as bad. Abuse is abuse, period.)

I'm remarried, to a guy who is kind and caring, and who listens to reason. My girls are shining stars, who excel at school and anything else they put their minds to. I completed my Bachelor of Social Work in 2008, and am working as a mental health case manager for kids and youth.

And, I'm bringing Angela's Army of Angels to Alaska, where we need it so much - our state has some of the highest rates of domestic violence and sexual assault in the US.

Although I still get hung up on some bad feelings here and there, I'm seeking help where I need it, and I'm determined not to let the past ruin my future.

Be sure to check out my Ustream where I am broadcasting this Blogathon live!

24 hour Blogathon: Suzanne's Story

2010-03-27T17:49:00.002-06:00

Suzanne want's you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

I am a Survivor. A Survivor of sexual assault. When I was very young, my mother had taught me how to be a strong and confident girl. But when I turned 13, that all changed. I began to babysit a small child who I became attached to. I babysat and played with him 2 to 3 times a week. It wasn’t long before his father came home early from work just after I sent his child to bed and began to spend time with me. He befriended me. He helped me with my tough homework, talked about my interests, and made me feel very special. Then he offered to give me a ride home instead of his wife. She was glad to avoid the inconvenience. And that is when it happened. Instead of driving me home, he drove me to the top of the secluded hill near my house and began kissing me. I liked how it felt but I was very much afraid. And then he lowered the seat and pushed himself on top of me. He pulled off my clothes and he raped me in the car. I didn’t fight because I was afraid he would get angry. I just laid there and felt him inside of me. It hurt so much and I was so afraid but I didn’t resist. Then he was done and he drove me home. Then he told me that he had made me into a woman this night. But do not tell my mother that we had sex because I would get into trouble. And I believed him so I never told my parents. And it didn’t stop there. For the next 4 years, when my babysitting was done, he would drive me to the top of the hill, rape me, then drive me home. He convinced me that we were just having an affair. I remained silent. Only when I graduated from high school did I graduate away from being raped by him.

When I was 15, my brother’s and sister’s friends found out that I had been having regular sex with a man – (they interpreted his sexual abuse as having sex) – and began to push themselves on me whenever my siblings held a drug party at our house and my parents were out of town. One of their friends offered me a drugged drink, and he managed to walk me out of the house and into his car before I passed out. When I awoke, I did so to a nightmare. For the entire night, he and 5 of his friends took turns raping me and subjecting me to various objects and torture. I again did not resist as I was terrified and found myself tied up. I endured the rape and torture and survived. I never told anyone. I held my horrible secrets inside myself for 20 years. I rationalized the sexual abuse as having an affair with a married man. I chose to forget the other assault.

But they took their toll over me for years. I could not understand why I felt so crazy in the head when I had sex or declined sex. I would wig out then be angry at myself for wigging out. I entered into a bad marriage that fell apart 4 years later, and escalated into abuse. I finally found the courage to leave in 2003.

I became involved with a domestic violence agency and the Associate Director realized the predicament I was in with my marriage. She was the first person in my life to take an interest in me. She gently prodded me to leave, kept emphasizing that none of this was my fault, and that I should leave. Her words slowly seeped in, and I finally turned to her when I decided to leave. She helped me. She validated me. She made me feel like people do care about victims like myself. With her help, I found the courage to go to therapy, but it would be another several years before I was comfortable enough to tell my story. I am most grateful for this woman. Her dedication to victims over the past 25 years is so glorified. I consider her my Angel.

I then learned about Mariska Hargitay and her charity, the Joyful Heart Foundation, and got onto the website. Her information confirmed what that Associate Director had said. It was not my fault, even though I had not resisted. And I discovered that I was NOT alone. There were all these other survivors out there. One of the Resources she referred me to was Pandora’s Aquarium, an online Survivor Message Board. It was there that I began to chat with other survivors and I emerged from isolation. It was on their Board that I first told my story. And now I tell you my Story here.

I am now on an incredible healing journey, reaching various mountaintops, and enduring the valleys. I have met so many other incredible survivors through the Joyful Heart and Pandora’s. They have encouraged and nurtured me. And now I have so many survivor friends on Facebook that encourage and nurture me. Their support has given me the strength and courage to embark on my mission. Today, I am a writer and I use my poetry to bring awareness to domestic abuse and sexual assault. My words have allowed me to set the secrets free and to speak out with my voice for others who have not found theirs yet. I praise God for each and every one of these special Survivors.

I wish to end this Blog with a reciting of one of my poems called “Take Back the Night.” This poem has been included onto a Survival Mural that will ultimately make a trip around the World. Be encouraged by my words. But do not copy this poem in any way. It remains my property.

TAKE BACK THE NIGHT

Flickering light dances upon our faces.

Shadows conceal our wet tears.

Our candles burn steadily.

Hope peeks through the darkness.

Flowers – blood red, yellow, white – each a victim – fill a field.

Too numerous to count.

Words on signs tell the story of how violent and callous we are.

Faceless names etched onto golden plates disposed onto a wooden plaque.

The only reminder of the silent victims in the Night.

Who were these names that once breathed as I do?

What did they know? How did they live?

Roses embrace a glass vase. Another glimpse at the faceless names.

Purple balloons of hope drift slowly upward.

Will it matter that we “take back this night?”

I shiver in the gentle, warm air, soaking in the hideous numbers.

We chant. We march. We defy the night.

We utter the names of those we lost and lay the rose in its vase.

Noisy cars zoom past. Restaurants serve hot food on plates.

Lights gleam from distant buildings. The world evolves in its routine.

But we choose to seize this night -- to relive their Hell as if it were our own.

Then, it is done.

We release our balloons. The candlelight goes out.

We slip quietly back into the darkness.

Oh God, will it matter that we “take back this night?”

Thank you for taking the time to read my Story and my Poem.

-Suzanne, a Survivor

24 hour Blogathon: Courtney's Poem

2010-03-27T17:05:00.000-06:00

Little Girl

There's a little girl so lost and scared

she lives inside of me

A little girl who doesn't know

what she was meant to be

A little girl afraid to try

cuz so many times she's failed

A little girl whose afraid

she may burn in hell

A little girl whose hurting

and cries herself to sleep at night

A little girl who tries so hard

yet can do nothing right

A little girl who craves your love

yet hides from you instead

A little girl who cannot fight

the things inside her head

A little girl whose world turned upside down

so may time before

A little girl just waiting

to watch you walk out the door

A little girl whose anger's real

whose words cut like a knife

A little girl who struggles

and has given up on life

A little girl whose heart's so broken

you can see it in her eyes

A little girl whose torn apart

the truth with all her lies

A little girl who was raped and beaten

and taught that she was bad

A little girl who just wanted love

and lost what innocence she had

A little girl who knows what's right

yet does so often what is wrong

A little girl who doesn't know

where it is that she belongs

A little girl who lashes out

and trusts nobody on this earth

A little girl who often wonders

just how much she's worth

A little girl who cries out loud

from the pain deep in her soul

A little girl who holds her heart in pieces

just wishing it were whole

A little girl whose tired

and just wants to give up

A little girl whose waiting

to love herself and be loved

~Courtney~

24 hour blogathon: Angela's Story

2010-03-27T15:56:00.003-06:00

Dear Survivor,

Angela wants you to know you are not alone. Here's what she has to say:

As a young girl between the ages of 6 and 13, I experienced multiple-incest, other sexual abuse, domestic violence, mental and emotional trauma, and neglect. The violence, and mental and emotional abuse lasted until I left home at 18. From a young age, I learned to wear deceitful masks, which presented an air of - “I am ok, and everything is normal.” After all, my family appeared “normal”. It was upon me also, to play the charade. I was controlled by fear. I locked it all away as best I could. My inner-existence then, was that of knowing sadness and loneliness, and that of feeling “paralyzed” (emotionally and mentally). I felt numb a lot - dead in my head and heart. I was confused, couldn’t pay attention, and I struggle still, with lost time.. memory blocks.

I have struggled with low self esteem, depression resulting in bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, acute social anxiety, PTSD, panic attacks, eating disorders, alcoholism, drug use, promiscuity, prostitution, failed relationships, acute emotional collapse, suicidal tendencies, and school and work performance suffered. I had to work extra hard to get anywhere. For many years, I didn't understand What was happening to me.. Why I felt so sad and “crazy”.. And when I started to get even the part that I was “depressed”, I searched for many more years for the right answers, and right help. I honestly did not have a clue the answers were already inside me. I had buried the experiences so far down deep, to forget – to make them go away – I kept looking for help outside myself.. Where was it? I didn’t even know What it was I was looking For !

At about age 35, I found myself on a spiritual path. Like-minded people started showing up in my “environment”, and I began to know and understand Connection. I have been learning to peel away the layers of the hardened shell, reacquaint myself with who and what I really am, worked on learning healthier ways of living, and learning coping techniques to try and bring things into balance. I got sober. I had to leave a relationship of 18 years where I realized I was not understood, or supported. I resolved to simplify my life. There was just way too much anxiety and pain. I couldn’t keep even the simplest things straight. It has not been easy. The world doesn’t wait, and I’m not good at catching curve-balls. It has taken me a long time to get where I am. I have spent much of the last few years connecting with loving, caring, people across the world through the internet, and I now enjoy long time cherished relationships with people I not only call my friends.. but - my Family. Then came Facebook.. and, last October of '09..

Mackenzie Phillips disclosed her story, a friend told me, and I began a search online. And, through Facebook, I found and joined the group: We Support Mackenzie Phillips & ALL Survivors Speaking Out Against Abuse. I was 50 years old, now. I went through all manner of emotions and pain as I read one story after the other - Their stories were My story!!! I shook with anger and anxiety, and cried tears of sorrow at the realizations of my truth, and oh boy.. I knew for sure then, for the first time, that I was Not Alone. Their abuses and after-effects were so similar to, or the same as mine, and I also learned.. It was Not my fault I felt so crazy.. It was Not my fault what happened to me! I knew this was Big, and thought, "Here It Is!! - Now is the Time - To fully Admit my truth to myself, and to others.” Another door.. perhaps “The Door”, to a great healing. And since then, I have been working on busting the damn door wide open!

My beautiful new friends, and long time friends alike, lift me up with their love, strength, bravery, and encouragement, and I am now able to stand as they stand with me. Some of it is painful.. but, speaking out and telling the Truth is So Liberating!! No, it has not been easy, but I must tell you - I am HEALING by what I am doing!! And I hope that I can encourage, and support healing in others, and bring awareness to the horrific and insidious epidemics of incest, domestic violence, neglect, and other crimes against human beings. When you are ready, you can stand up, too. And, I’ll be right here standing beside you ! Warm ((hugs)) -

To my family of friends; Thank You ! - I Am So Blessed.. And, I am Forever, So Grateful !

Namaste’

Don't forget to check out my Ustream where I am broadcasting live!!

24 hour blogathon: Sarah's story

2010-03-27T14:54:00.002-06:00

Sarah wants you to know you are not alone and this is her story:

On April 10th of this year I am going to be celebrating my 11th year of freedom from childhood sexual abuse. It was on that day in 1999, at 15 years old, that I ran from my home and told a friend that my stepdad was molesting me. And I didn't stop there, I went from her house to my mother's work and told her what her husband had done to me. And, despite the fact that my mother had a hard time confronting this man, I kept on telling my story. It was the story of five years of sexual abuse at the hands of a man that told me he loved me as his own daughter.

First, a therapist heard my story. Then, I had to tell a Child Protective Services worker. She substantiated my case. I then had to tell the police. The police forwarded my case to the prosecutors office. And I just kept telling the truth of my life. I recounted my story countless times to people in the prosecutors office, I attended depositions in which I was questioned by my stepmonster's lawyers, and in the end, I told a court of law what he had done to me. Not once, but twice.

We went to trial twice. The first time a mistrial was called because the jury was split - what is referred to as a "hung jury". The second time, sadly, the stepmonster was found not guilty. It was devastating. I was devastated, crushed.

You think you know what justice is, until you've been where I have.

But at this point I'd already survived the abuse. I'd already survived being a victim of child sexual abuse. I was safe by the time the trial was over. I just had to work on redefining what justice was going to have to be for me. I was disappointed that I wasn't going to get justice through the court system, but I knew I needed to feel like I'd gotten it somehow.

So I worked by butt off in school and at scholarship and college applications. I decided that the best way for me to get justice now, would be to give myself a good life. To have a good life despite him. I ended up with a full-ride scholarship to a university I was super excited to go to because I wrote an essay about having overcome obstacles to academic and personal achievement. And do you know what obstacles I talked about in that scholarship winning essay were? Yep - I talked about being a survivor of not only child abuse - but of the criminal court system.

Unfortunately, though, as is so often the case, I found myself revictimized. Before I even left for college, I'd been drinking (my own poor choice) and was raped by a much older man (HIS very poor choice). Then shortly after college, I entered into a relationship with a guy that was emotionally and sexually abusive. He once came to my apartment after he'd been at the bar and I'd been sleeping. I let him in and went back to sleep just to wake up to him having sex with me.

It's been several years now since any of that happened. And I'm still coming to terms with the things that happened to me outside of the childhood sexual abuse. I have just started calling the rape a rape and the relationship with that boyfriend abusive.

But I think, that's the story of a survivor. We don't wake up one day and go from victim to survivor - it's a road that we travel and, sometimes, we think we're getting to the end of the road when a little bit more of it is shown to us. But that doesn't mean that we've failed, or that we are perpetual victims, it means that we are so strong for having the courage to keep on down that road to healing.

And so, this week I await the arrival on my doorstep of a book on recovery from rape. Because, as I grow from victim to survivor, I can now fully acknowledge what has happened in my life. And only after we acknowledge what we have been through can we heal from it and truly live our lives to the fullest.

I've begun my journey to "survivorhood" from rape and I know from experience that it will be a difficult but worthwhile one. I will get through this as I did the childhood sexual abuse.

One of the resources that I've used in my recovery has been online support groups. I am liberalhoosier fromwww.pandys.org and I have written a post about what April 10th 1999 was for me. As survivors, many of us have anniversaries that are beyond difficult for us. Starting this 11th anniversary of my most horrific incident of childhood sexual abuse, I am going to celebrate my victory. From now on, April 10th is the day that I TOLD. I got away. I took his power away. I took my power back that day. And so from now on I'm going to celebrate that day as my independence day.

Some of the other survivors from pandy's - survivors from all around the world are going to be celebrating with me on April 10th. We are baking spice cakes (my favorite) in remembrance of my courage on that day in 1999. Because I AM a survivor, we will celebrate. Would you celebrate with me?

24 hour Blogathon: Kristi, Kirsten, and Robyn

2010-03-27T13:56:00.001-06:00

This post is a little different then many of the others because this one was written by three of my best friends. These girls have been through thick and thin with me and they are always there when I need them. I don't know where I would be without the support and love from these three.

Shining Star

Anyone who really knows Stephanie knows that she is a strong, determined individual.Through the time we have gotten to know her, she constantly proves that when she sets her mind to something, she selflessly follows through with it. Whenever Stephanie discovers a cause that she believes in and can help with, she gives herself 100% and finds ways to help out wherever she can. Whether trying to improve individuals, or strengthen her community as a whole, she is constantly trying to help others. Stephanie has the ability to be a shining light and she uses every opportunity she gets to be just that. When we say Stephanie is resourceful, this just seems to understate what that truly means. Stephanie has an amazing ability to find information to help whatever cause she is behind.

Stephanie’s many accomplishments include raising funds for the Sexual Assault Centre of Edmonton and Angela Shelton foundation (today’s blog-a-thon!). She is also working on bringing numerous guest speakers to her community to raise awareness on issues dear to her heart.

For only being 18, Stephanie has accomplished so much! A first year university student, holding down a part-time job, she still finds the time to devote to the things she is passionate about. We can only imagine what the future holds for such a bright young individual!

Keep Making a Difference Steph!

Kristi, Kirsten and Robyn

Be sure to check out my Ustream where I am broadcasting live!

24 hour blogathon: Kyla's Story

2010-03-27T12:48:00.003-06:00

Kyla want's you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

I was 15 years old and a sophomore in high school that year. I was just begining to be a social butterfly and I loved it. I loved meeting new people and doing new things. It was a Friday night. It had been a really long week for me and I didnt really feel like doing anything. Of course, my friends were able to convince me that going out would be fun. I think that's one of the hardest parts about it...I didn't want to go in the first place. Anyway, I went out with my friends. I promise you, we weren't drinking or doing anything we shouldn't have been. We liked to have fun, but we still followed the rules.

From here on in, everything gets a little fuzzy. For example, I could not give you one good reason why I walked off by myself in the dark. It could have been that I assumed nothing could go wrong. I could have just been having a stupid moment. I can't honestly say. I also can't accurately explain why I didn't try to run when I saw him coming up to me or why I didn't scream. We always think we will know what to do in an emergency, but we never really do. You might think that screaming would be your first instinct, but it wasn't for me. Besides, he had me down on the ground so quickly, I doubt I would have been able to scream if I wanted to. Of course there was the classic hand over the mouth after that. Right here, the thing I remember most was the pain. I can't express to you how bad it hurt when he assaulted me. I remember trying to use the ground to push myself away, but that just hurt worse. I ended up stopping fighting and just laying there.

After that I don't remember much again. I have no idea how I made it home. A little over a month later, after I assumed the nightmare was over, I found out it was just begining. I had missed my period and was afraid that I might be pregnant. It was at this point that I made the decision to tell my parents. I was terrified and had no idea what to do. When I told my parents they did exactly what I feared. They didn't believe me. They assumed I had simply slept with a boy, ended up pregnant, and was now regretting it. In the end, I found out I wasn't pregnant and was just "going through a traumatic experience". I don't think my parents ever really believed me. To this day, I won't tell them things because I simply don't trust them. I think this was the worst part for me. I had already experienced something that took away everything I had. I felt dehumanized and degraded. When the people I turned to for help weren't there, it was devastating. I think it kept me from healing for years.

Now, I am 18 years old. It has been 3 difficult years. I think that I have made the transition from victim to survivor very recently. When I first moved to college, I stopped sleeping. I was having nightmares all the time. I was scared to go out and do things. Finally, after the encouragement of some great friends I started taking steps towards healing. I joined an organization on campus that raises awareness about sexual assault. I met other girls who have experiences sexual assault and helped to give presentations to other women. While I took that step, though, I still wasn't sleeping well. The nightmares kept getting worse. It was one late, sleepless night that I found Pandora's Project, or as it is known to members, Pandy's. www.pandys.org It is a website that provides resources to those who have experience any kind of sexual assault or abuse. In the forums of this website I found friends and sympathy. It helped to talk to people who understood. Pandy's helped me immensely in my healing journey. Again after quite a bit of encouragement from Pandy's members and other friends, I sought out help. I talked to a fabulous woman on campus who has been helping me heal. It's easier for me to talk about it now. I can go out with my friends. I've been sleeping more and more every night. I'm able to tell my story. They are little steps towards a monsterous goal. I like to think that every day I get a little bit closer. I want to heal. I will heal. I'm a survivor.

Be sure to check out my Ustream where I am broadcasting live!

24 hour Blogathon: Steve's Story

2010-03-27T11:48:00.003-06:00

Steve wants you to know that you are not alone and this is his story:

My parents transferred me to a private school at the start of grade 4 because I had learning difficulties and the school I was at didn’t have the resources to help me. I was illiterate when I started there and from day one i was picked on. Even the teachers made fun of me for not being able to read. I was taken out of class for special English and often kept in at lunch time to catch up on work. The other kids teased me endlessly and any time I complained to my parents, they would get into a little bit of trouble and then take it out on me for dobbing. Over the years the teasing turned into bashing and stripping. I had learned not to tell anymore because it only led to more pain.
By year 7, I was being bashed regularly, stripped on the train station or school oval and humiliated at every turn. They used to tell me to come onto the oval to play with them. If i refused, i would get bashed for it. Once on the oval, they would clean me up with excessive tackling or blindside me.
Once they told me to play cricket and I eventually caught a ball and got to bat. It was easy to hit the balls because they were all aimed at me. From behind, someone threw me to the ground and they started in at me. They took my pants off and threw them away. I begged them not to hurt me but I was told that they liked hurting me. Someone told them to turn me over. They pulled a cricket stump out of the ground and forced in up my bum. They just kept pushing it in until I was screaming. When I got it out, i was bleeding and they told me that i had my period which proved that I was a girl. That night I cried all the way home. They often boxed me in the locker rooms and repeated this with whatever was around.
I began avoiding the locker rooms as much as possible. I used to grab my books and run to the train station and try to get the early train. I often grabed the wrong books though. My parents were getting tired of me not doing my homework and began punishing me. I just couldn’t seem to win. I began altering notes from the teachers and got found out quickly and punished more.
Somewhere during second term, one of the kids caught up with me as I was walking back from sport. He grabbed my arm and started telling me that he loved me and wanted sex. I kept pushing him away but he was holding on. He flashed at me and asked me if i wanted to play with him. He then put his hands down my pants. I finally broke away from him and ran off. A couple of days later, he got me in the locker room and did it again. He kept doing this, even walking past me in the corridor. Not long after, I was bashed again and he took me to the sick bay. He told the nurse that I had fallen over playing brandy. When the nurse left, he undid my pants and started playing with me. I told him to f*** off and he told me that if i didn’t let him do what he wanted then he would have me bashed again. I sort of gave up and lay back down, there was no use fighting. He would come and get me at lunchtime and take me somewhere quiet. He loved to tell me what he was going to do when we had more time.
By the time Year 8 rolled around, I was just a hollow shell for their amusement. I still fought back occasionally but basically I did whatever they wanted me to do. I was stealing money from my parents and shoplifting magazines from the newsagents for them in the hope they would leave me alone but it didn’t help. I occasionally tried to tell people what was happening but I just couldn’t make them understand. One teacher kept me in after class and really pushed me to tell what was happening. I couldn’t explain it. She kept pushing and finally i just blurted out, “The cu*** pissed on me” She was instantly angry at me for swearing and i got a detention and told that she would listen only when I was mature enough to speak to her appropriately.
My parents were just as bad, they seemed uninterested in what was really happening and always wrote off what I was saying as exaggeration or outright lies. One night my mum walked in to my bedroom to find me with a knife to my stomach. She knelt next to the bed and we talked. I couldn’t get out the words i needed but kept saying that they hurt me and i didn’t want to go back to that school. She told me to give it one more week and see if it improved. It never did and she never asked.

When did I make the change from victim to survivor? About 2 years ago when I found pandies (www.pandys.org) and admitted to myself that the stuff that happened wasn’t right.

Regards
Steve

Be sure to check out my Ustream where I am broadcasting live!!

24 hour Blogathon: Lyla's story

2010-03-27T10:57:00.002-06:00

Lyla wants you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

My childhood was not anything out of the ordinary. I was typical suburban kid, who played in the park. I was molested at that age, and it took years of coming to terms with how the molestation affected me.
The grieving process can take on many forms, and with new life changes, like coming of age, sex, marriage, friendships, dating, giving birth to a child, the memories can come and go.
Memories can be traumatic but necessary in order to come full circle with understanding ourselves, and our lives.
It took me a while to come full circle. And in many ways I am still working on it.
The molestation was the start of a myriad of pain I was to experience.
I don't think the pain stopped when the molestation ended; it was perpetuated by secondary wounding, and denial; by those that seemed threatened if my feelings, and pain that didn't stay neatly tucked away and kept in a box.
And worse yet, I felt like a threat if I survived, and expressed myself well.
As I have gotten older I have found that abuse and rape myths are endemic to our collective belief system.
Myth: Little children don't get molested at that high a rate; it's horrible and terrible but that could mean it's someone we know, a friend, a neighbour, a co-worker, a politician.
The rape and molestation of adults is further confounded by horrible shaming myths. "You were asking for it", "Why were you alone?" , "you shouldn't of worn that", "You were drinking too much." It's bad enough that childhood survivors tend to shame themselves at not being able to fight back; now imagine how horrible it is to be shamed again as an adult, at failing to protect ourselves.
I survived childhood sexual abuse and adult rape. I am also a childhood survivor of Domestic Violence, and physical abuse, amongst other things.
In my witnessing this turmoil I quickly learned that much of the politics behind the physical violence in my home also had to do with sex, power, and sexual inequality.
In an excerpt from my own writings, I discovered this painful, and brutal life changing reality.
He tries to force me into oral sex. He is actually serious as he grabs my head and tries to force it into his lap. I think he is kidding and trying to screw around in front of his friends. He is, but he wants me to give him head, and he kicks me for my reluctance.
Shock confusion. Hurt. Knots twist in my stomach. Fear.
A friend grabs my coat and I am hustled out of the room.
I try to pretend nothing happened. I wish I said something like, "let's go to the police and report that," but it would be hard to prove. Maybe. Maybe not.
I think their behavior can be viewed as joking gone awry.
I try to say it's ok. I try to pretend to like him. I even go to make a penis joke but can't bring myself to talk.
I realize this is not real desire. This is fear and confusion. There were so many "should haves" and shame.
But the thought of calling the police occurred to me.
I just thought I couldn't. I feel intense shame. I should of had more control.
It seemed like... a very hurtful thing, that the people in the school polarized towards this guy. I seemed like a slut, something to be punished which is worse than a guy who gets around too much.
It's as if they are aware of the mistakes he makes, but are afraid to say anything because he is a man, and men can get away with things if you let them. So any abuse, or strange behavior is denied. They polarize towards him, the popular guy, the guy who gets the girl, because they need him to be that.
Reality really can be too much to handle sometimes.
In their protecting him, my own views polarize towards myself; I blame myself, say I could've acted better. I call myself a whore. I begin to cut. I begin to think awful things. I freak out.
It seems screwy that my mother let's my brother beat me right afterwards, for being a whore. As if to further demonstrate "male power" to punish a girl for what she has ultimately done wrong. And he is untouchable for the abuse. Everything goes full circle, twice in a week.
My mother says things like, "men can do what they want."
And she let's them do what they want to me.
My mother beats me, or allows my brother to because it's alleged somewhere I'm a whore. It actually has nothing to do with that. The reality is she tried to put me in Foster Care. Maybe it's all my fault, as she said, but advice was offered through counselling, and this enraged her. I was a child trying to seek a rational means to solve a problem through mediation, and her reaction is violence, because of my sexuality.
Does that make sense? Why is the reaction often that when you can't control a woman, you try to take control of her sexuality, and punish her for it, or use it against her in a way that causes great pain?
The physical abuse of my mother by her alcoholic boyfriend stemmed from a one night stand she had. I find his sense of entitlement funny, since he had multiple affairs in the relationship. He beats her for being sexual. I remember being locked in a washroom with a knife, while he would try to get into the house. My mother showed me her bruises; he broke her ribs.
I not only survived these acts but I think a regular onslaught of just plain ignorance.
I was once told I was stupid for calling my experience sibling abuse. It was softened to "sibling rivarly." Anyone ever have a brother beat you on a daily basis, stock pile weapons, including a pistol, which he pointed at your head for kicks one day, while it was loaded. Oh just sibling rivarly. My brother often had violent ideations; sometimes suicidal, but when my home environment twisted with my mother enabling him, his ideation switched to violence, and death threats towards others, usually me. He pulled knives on exes. Made a joke about throwing an ex from a car. And people could not understand why I was afraid of dying at home.
I suffer from depression, and allegedly Bipolar II (though I have found this to be diagnosis du jour, where a butt load of meds can get pushed at you with no real improvement).
I have heard things like,
"Survivors who suffer from depression are just weak. Why don't they just get over it." An extremely logical counter point to this arguement is that if you ask any clinical psychologist/psychiatrist they will tell you that a majority of their patients have some sort of abuse in their background, and depression at some point in the life of a survivor, is around 100%.
And if you have any predisposition to suffer from Bipolar, Major Depressive Disorder, or Schizophrenia you bet child abuse is cited as being a major trigger. PTSD is said to be at 40% in those with Bipolar Disorder.
So it's a character flaw to be human, and suffer according to some asshats.
One of my worst experiences was trying to talk to a clinical psychiatrist who was so sure I was drunk. In fact because I showed up majorly depressed, barely moving, and barely talking they assumed drugs and alcohol first. It seemed very poorly recorded, and based heavily on bias; pretty girl in a university sweatshirt with big issues = must have a bong, and a keg back in her room. That explains everything. It's her fault that she was drinking. In stating it's my fault first, with alcohol as a "major" factor, and bipolar disorder to round it off, the other big issues don't have to be addressed.
It seemed easier to assume drugs and alcohol because isn't that typical for all university students? Actually I had agoraphobia, and depression. I could barely leave my room.
When I talked to the clinical psychiatrist in this experience, about a guy that tried to restrain me in order to get sex, (but luckily nothing happened, because I began yelling), he said, "You blacked out anyway." Despite very clear recall on a lot of different things it was all based on a simple theory that I blacked out, even without alcohol.
So without knowing my true history, "drunkness" is conveniently blamed to make it seem like something didn't occur.
Any assaultive, abusive behavior prior to that is played down. Domestic violence is not mentioned except for a "broken home." The truth is too scary, and would point to answers. Painting me as bipolar and just shoving me full of meds was a better answer; it gives me a simple narrow path to follow, and I am less destructive that way. No tricky questions, confounded memories, no nightmares, no acting out.
There were alot of things I had been meaning to tell but was afraid.
Finally at the age of 30 I found a doctor who actually listened and didn't just dispense pills.
I was able to talk about the violence and attitudes I grew up with. I was able to talk about a sexual assault that occurred that I felt afraid to talk about. It sat on my mind. It haunted, and it sat on the tip of my tongue but with so much automatic blame how do you talk about such things?
"I was 15, I remember he used to threaten to rape me anyway." He was a 30 year old man. The age difference may not bother some, but the coercion and threats bother me. It haunted me during a professionally abusive experience, as did the memories of early childhood sexual abuse.
And my "professional abuse" experience is downplayed as a "relationship" but something more occured there that said less about it being a relationship. At best he was manipulative and coercive. He was possessive and intimidating, and did it with many a student. He made comments about young teens bodies and breasts. He pulled a "fast one" if he thought he got you drunk enough. And yet he coached, and continued to, despite the rumours; and yet I am told this is a "relationship." It triggered horrible memories. It was like being molested all over again. Maybe some part of me wanted to see it as a regular relationship, but another part of me saw him as dangerous and capable of the worst.
My own experience was coercive, and caused much emotional conflict.
Even when my experiences had gone from the grey part of the spectrum to the dark zone, of it without a doubt being full on rape, a sort of soft language is still used.
Today I told my counsellor, I was raped prior to meeting my ex. We were talking about general relationship issues and feeling taken advantage of.
When I mentioned that my ex threatened me, (a woman), and then drugged me, and orchestrated an attack, my therapist said, "oh sorry you were taken advantage of."
I said, "No I was not just taken advantage of I was sexually assaulted."
A partner does not pester you constantly with a sex act, and by getting off on your discomfort, and then goes on to attack and blame you when you cite her behavior as abusive and innappropriate. My abuser called me a bad person, and for that I was drugged, and raped. My counsellor softened the behavior, and my abuser used the endemic belief system that these things just don't happen; or they're just words and not a precursor to physical violence.
My rape did not happen with me being the "blameworthy" type; I was not in a red neglige getting drunk, as the doctor back at the drug clinic would prefer. I think I was drinking tea in my track pants. I think it happened because I called her on it. Don't abuse me. You have no right. You have no right to call it S&M by blind siding me with a demand, and by refusing to stop pestering me, way past uncomfortable. It's sick, and innappropriate, and you're a whore for that.
In her mind because she was not doing the physical part, she saw herself as not an abuser. I think she assumed that I deserved it for my "attitude problem." For not tolerating any of her behavior. She probably thought I needed to be made to get used to something I was unwilling to do. I am scared I probably know all the attackers involved. I am afraid of running into them again.
I should of told my counselor, I was raped. Full stop. No explaining necessary. No I will not wilt and fall down on the floor crying in weakness. I may grieve the pain. And I still do. But in naming it and discussing it, I do not feel ashamed.
And dear Doctor if my life seems too unreal for you to deal with, please refer me to someone else, as a professional.
My life is a constant work in progress. I am always a survivor. I am always surviving, as much as I can.
It is my duty to communicate that this does not happen. My life changing event was talking about it, bringing it to light. My life changing event was about finding my writing voice, and using it.

Lyla

Be sure to check out my Ustream where I am broadcasting live!

24 hour Blogathon: Rachel's Story

2010-03-27T09:56:00.001-06:00

Rachel wants you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

I was 12-14 and in middle school when my school guidance counselor would give me his special shoulder rubs and move his hands down and rub either right above or on my chest while always telling me how I was his favorite that I was special to me that he cared about me,how pretty I was,How smart I was. The school principal turned a blind eye and when he actually saw it he simply slapped the guidance counselor on the wrist and told him "bad boy don't do it again"

I was 14 years old and a very naive and conserative 14 year old. I had just moved from my hometown to about 20 minutes up the road but it had meant switching school systems.I had been living in the new town for a year and a half and I was miserable. I was being bullied incessantly by the kids in this school and the teachers had written me off as learning disabled and they either ridiculed me or ignored me.I wanted to go home to my real friends to my school,to my church.When we had moved though my parents had made my brothers and Me give up our old life including our friends. There was 1 girl in this new town who lived 5 minutes up the road from me and she and bonded from day 1 she became my best friend,my allie,she helped me navigate my new school,she hung out constantly at my house,we were inseperable.She asked a lot of questions about my life back in the town that I had just moved from.I told her all about my friends,my school,where my friends and I used to hang out etc...

I had met her parents once before in March 1999 at my then best friends birthday party.Her Dad seemed kind of creepy.He had tried to pin me to the couch in their living room and tickle me.It freaked me out but he said it was just a joke,I believed him.I didn't think much of it.

7 months later my then best friend invited me over to her house.I told her I would come over under one condition,that her Dad wouldn't be home.She swore up and down that he wouldn't be home. So after school that day,it was a half day,so just before 2 p.m. my Mom drove me over to Ann's house.She told me "Whatever you do,if her Dad is home do not go ANYWHERE with him in that van.I agreed thinking that it wouldn't be an issue since Ann had said that her Dad wouldn't be home. Mom left and I headed for the door,her Dad opened the door.Now any person in their right mind would have turned and headed for home but I walked into their house. Ann was standing behind her father smirking,that should have been my first clue that something was going to happen. Her Dad came into Ann's room and asked if we wanted to go to the pizza place in my old town to get something to eat. I knew my Mom had said not to go with him but I hadn't seen my old friends in over a year and a half despite only being 20 minutes away.I was incredibly homesick and I REALLY wanted to see my old friends,so despite that little voice in the back of my head telling me not to go with him I agreed to go. I told him that I had to be home in 1 hour,he said that I would be. I know now that by offering to take me somewhere that I was familiar with,where I would feel safe that he lured me and by legal definition he kidnapped me.

Once we were in his van the questions started."How old are you?" "Do you have a boyfriend?" "Have you ever been around the bases?" "Have you ever done anything with guy?" "Has a guy ever done anything to you?" "What would you want a guy to do to you?" I felt sick to my stomach,I knew in that moment something bad was going to happen.He then declared me his captive he made me go into the bank in town with him.I thought about running or getting help but decided that it was too risky that if I couldn't run fast enough,if no one believed me,if he caught me...how much worse things would be so after we left the bank I got back into his van willingly,he said that he was "going to have some fun with me" we drove into the parking lot of the pizza place.He parked and turned off the van.He came into the van,he started asking me if I was ticklish.I said no he asked again and I said no,he asked a 3rd time and that's when his daughter (my ex best friend) Ann said,"Dad she's ticklish everywhere and I mean everywhere" he asked me if that was true,I said No and to leave me alone.He said "Well then I'll just have to find out for myself" that's when it started he forced his hands under my shirt and he pulled up my bra.He started tickling my breasts. I don't know how long it lasted.I tried to fight him off but Ann grabbed my wrists and held them above my head.She laughed in my face and the two of them called me "The Little Virgin Mary" and "Little Goody Two Shoes" "Little Prude" He asked me if I liked the way he was tickling me? I said No! He asked again and I said No! He told me "If you tell me that you like me tickling you I'll stop and I'll let you go" I didn't want to tell him I liked it because I didn't.....but I wanted to go home.So I told him that I liked it,he made me tell him specifically what I liked. After awhile he said "You really don't like this do you?" After already having made me tell him that I did like it.I said No,I begged him to stop and to let me go. He said "You're saying no but your body isn't" then he smirked and said "Then Maybe you'll like this better and he slowly pulled open the front of my pants while looking me in the eye the whole time and he slowly forced his hand down my pants and underwear. He asked me "Does it tickle?".I dissociated at that point.When it was over he made me go into the restaurant with him and Ann to eat.After they ate,he saw that I was not eating what I had ordered and he came over and took the grinder that I had ordered and literally forced my mouth open and forced the entire grinder into my mouth and down my throat until I started choking.At that point I fought him got up and ran,I ran into an old Elementary school teacher whom had seen what had happened.He called me over and asked me if everything was ok,if I needed help.I kept looking at my attacker and thenback at that teacher,he told me "don't look at him,look at me...are you ok?" I shook my head,he asked me "do you need help?" I nodded he offered to take me home but I shook my head so he gave me a bunch of quarters and told me to go out to the pay phone and call for another ride home.Once outside though my attacker came out behind me with his daughter and he forced me back into his van and drove me back to his home,I tried to run once out of the van deciding that I needed to try but he caught me and he literally dragged me back inside and told me "Take One Last Good look Around Because You're Never Going Home,Ever."I asked him "Are you going to kill me?" he said "I could never kill you,I am going to keep you around though for when I need you for.....things" He got me back inside and he was trying to get me on the couch and still trying "tickle" me,Thankfully right as he got me on to the couch his wife came home and that scared him off and she brought me home.

As a result of this I ended up in a teen dating violence relationship from 2000 to 2002 (15-17 years of age) with my boyfriend whom had also been my best friend since we were in diapers. 90% of it was verbal,emotional,mental and psychological 5% of it was controlling behavior and the other 5% was physical

With my boyfriend it was "You're so stupid,you're in the resource room for a reason","you're such a dumb***","I'll write to you from my ivy league college dorm room....just let me know which Macdonalds I shoul send it to." Some days it was comments such as,"I went out with my guy friends last night and met a few hot girls and got their numbers but I threw them away because I'm SIGH with YOU","You should be grateful that I'll even look at you let alone date you"

Later on as the relationship continued it became him calling my nannying job 10-15 times in an afternoon demanding to talk to me saying he was more important then the kids in my care that I needed to get my priorities straight.When I wouldn't talk to him because I had the children in my care he would scream at me,call me names,belittle me.The next day in school he would continue to scream at me,his behavior escalated to where if I ever disagreed with him at all about anything or gave my opinin on something when he hadn't asked me for it he screamed at me.If I wore an outfit he didn't like he screamed at me.He started telling me that my best friend was talking behind my back and that the only reason that she stayed friends with me was because she felt sorry for me,in an attempt to isolate me.He threatened to punch one of our high school teachers whom he had seen putting an arm around me (The teacher was a family friend)

In the summers one night a week I would go out for 3 or 4 hours with my friends and hang out.In the 3 or 4 hours that I was gone he would continue to call my house repeatedly and as soon as I came home and called him back it was "where were you?" "who were you with?" "How long were you gone?" "Exactly what time did you leave and what time did you return home? Was it really this minute that you returned home?"

Later it became more physical punching me in my shoulders or in my lower back saying that it was a "joke"

I ended things in October of 2002 when he showed up at my nannying job screaming because he was angry with me that I skipped his school sports match to attend my grandfathers funeral and that he was supposed to be the most important person in my life.

He still manipulated me though into remaining friends with him.Even as a friend he was very abusive and in 2005 my Mentor finally convinced me to break off contact with him.

I am happy to say that now I am 24 almost 25 year old young woman whom after seeking help,am doing VERY well.I recently graduated college with a Bachelors Degree in Social Work and I have returned to the college that I graduated from to earn a Masters in Youth Ministry.

When was the moment you changed from "Victim" to "Survivor" and what happened for this change to take place?
The moment I changed from victim to survivor was October 10th 2005 when just be accident I was exploring my new campus which I'll call AMC and I stumbled into a building that housed a Nationally Known Child Advocacy Center named for a girl in Massachusetts whom was 16 in July 2000 when she was abducted and murdered. The Director at the time Patty came out of her to see who had come in the door,she looked me up and down and told me she knew I was a survivor and that she could help me that she wanted to help me.I was reluctant to accept help but decided that I couldn't go it alone anymore and I accepted her help. She saved my life with that one offer. She finally convinced me that I was NOT to blame by having me look at pictures of myself from the time I was being abused and then look at pictures of my abusers to see how much bigger,stronger etc... they were,and to make me realize between 12-14 I was a CHILD and in my relaionship I was a CHILD! and that the decisions that I made during the abuse,the self preservation tactics most likely saved my life. I decided that day when Patty offered me her help that I wanted to move forward and be a survivor not a victim

What/who helped you do this?
My mentor Patty

Be sure to check out my Ustream where I am broadcasting live!

24 hour Blogathon: Christina's story

2010-03-27T09:03:00.002-06:00

Christina wants you to know you are not alone and this is her story:

I am one of the many victims...which in unfortunate. you really cant trust anyone. not even family. it was family that did this to me. who took my life from right underneath me.

It all started when I was 13 years old. I really didnt know what was going on. I remember everything. every touch, everywhere it happened. It started in my bedroom late at night. It even happened when I was quietly watching a movie in my room. He took me to a river multiple times. it happened when other people were home and it happened when we were alone. I wasn't safe at any point in time.

I was so scared. I was so confused. I kept thinking to myself over and over again, "why is this happening to me and why cant i stop it?!" I would cry myself to sleep and I would do everything in my power not to be home but unfortunately, it was not easy. This person would "make the rules" and always said "he was the boss". If I didnt follow the rules i would get hit. I would get yelled at.

Even when people were home and he did this, I couldnt scream. I couldnt say ANYTHING. The worst part is, I didnt fully understand what was happening until about a month after it all started. When I did, I completely shut down. How could have this happened to me? Especially with someone I call family.

I was being touched for almost 6 months, then it just stopped. I was so happy that it stopped but it should have never started. He didn't have sex with me, he just touched me over and over and over again. He wouldn't penitrate with his penis but he would rest it on "me". he would come into the bathroom and claim I was not washing myself correctly and then he would take over. Just typing about it is making me sick! ugh!

After it all stopped I tried to live a normal life, but it didnt really work. I needed to turn to someone. I didn't even tell my bestfriend because i was ashamed. I thought I braught it upon myself. I told my mom...I waited TWO YEARS before I did, and she didn't believe me!!! but then, I turned 16. I talked to my school counselor and he made my mom believe. This person ended up in jail...but not for the sexual abuse. When he found out I told, he went on a booze binge and beat up police officers.

After all of that, here I am. 20 years young. Unfortunately, this person is still in my life. it is stupid and I don't like it. But girls,never feel ashamed of what happened to you. never be afraid to tell someone. if it be a teacher, a friends parent or the police! it isNOT okay for this to happen. If it is happening, please come forward! Don't make the same mistake I did! Don't wait 3 years to take real action! I am a survivor and proud to say it! i will no longer let what happened to me take my life over! I control myself, knowone else! I am strong. I am beautiful. and so are all of you!

and NO this was not my father who was doing this to me. just wanted to clarify that.

Be sure to chech out my Ustream where I am broadcasting this blogathon live!

24 hour Blogathon: SF's Story

2010-03-27T08:48:00.002-06:00

SF wants you to know that you are not alone and this is her story:

It started when I was 6 and more or less ended when I was twelve. It was as little as touching and as much as rape. 26 years later I am still picking up the peices. I never thought it would happen to me...that would be a "statistic" but there it is. It doesn't define me anymore, or at least I don't think it does. I have my moments of it bothering me sure, like this week. I was on the set of a tv show and the guy I was assigned to work with triggered me because he could have been one of my abuser's twins. Seriously. And this is someone I had to be in close contact with for THIRTEEN hours. I was able not to have a freak out on set which was a blessing, but I paid for it for the next two days in various ways of sickness. It is frustrating. Just when you think you are "over" it, something comes along to remind you that you are not. But when those doubts creep in I am blessed to have a community of friends who understand,. Both in real life and on this wonderful world wide web. It is hard to reach out during the dark times but I am finding that is when it is MOST important to. Not isolate oneself. Find something you enjoy hobby wise, like crafts or traveling. Those are suggestions I try to follow myself and all I have to offer at this juncture,. Each step towards healing is a journey and the journey is far from over but little by little it gets easier and I feel I am closer to my goal. SF

24 hour Blogathon: Caleen's Story

2010-03-27T07:47:00.004-06:00

Caleen wants you to know you are not alone and this is her story:

I am a survivor of a one-off incident of child sexual abuse, sexual assault by a trusted friend in my early twenties and domestic violence that consisted mainly of sexual and mental abuse.

While the incidents as a child and in my twenties were traumatic it is the abuse I suffered during my marriage that has been the hardest to bear. Because of the insidious nature of the abuse, my social isolation and lack of experience in relationships it took me a very long time to realise what was happening. I guess it sounds kind of stupid to say I didn't know I was being raped and assaulted. I think because most of it occurred through coercion, and because I subscribed fully to the societal stereotypes about rape and rape victims, I just couldn't see the truth. There was also a huge amount of denial at work. Who wants to admit the man they have been married to for over a decade is a rapist?

I was still in my marriage when I made the realisation about the abuse. It was at that point that I joined Pandora's Aquarium (www.pandys.org) and first disclosed about the abuse. The nine months between joining and ending my marriage were some of the worst in my life. I was living with near constant abuse that was becoming progressively more sadistic, trying to get help and make plans to leave and studying for university by distance education. But this was also a time of connection and enlightenment. I realised I wasn't alone, I made contact with a local domestic violence service and I began therapy with a wonderful psychologist. I also found that I had more friends that I would have believed.

Ending my marriage ended the abuse but it also brought down a lot of my protective mechanisms. Now that it was safe to feel and remember I became overwhelmed. I was lucky to have the support of my friends and the professionals I had made contact with.

Now I am at the point where I can (almost) comfortably call myself a survivor. While I will feel the effect of the abuse in many ways for the rest of my life I am looking to intergrate my experiences in to my life in a meaningful way. I am studying Social Welfare, with the aim of getting into research and education in the area of violence against women, I sing with a choir of domestic violence survivors and their supporters, which also gives me an opportunity to share my story, and I am writing about my experiences in the hope that professionals will gain some insight into what it is like to live in a non-battering but sexually violent relationship.

24 hour Blogathon: What is the Angela Shelton Foundation

2010-03-27T06:54:00.001-06:00

"Why the Angela Shelton Foundation?"

For so many years I wished there was some kind of manual for surviving. I just wanted something that told me what to do and how to survive in my crazy life. Well that is exactly what the Angela Shelton Foundation did.

The purpose of the Angela Shelton Foundation is to inspire and empower all survivors of abuse to heal and lead joyful lives. The foundation provides assistance to worldwide organizations and projects in the arts and media that share their mission of inspiring, empowering and aiding all survivors of sexual abuse and domestic violence.

Angela created the Survivor Manual and it inspires and empowers survivors to lead joyful lives! This site is great, I have learned so much from it. It's a perfect how-to guide on how to survive and live fully lives.

Angela Shelton and her foundation has dramatically changed my life for the better and I am raising money to keep the survivor manual going so everyone can have this life changing resource. I truly believe in this foundation and I am proof that it works. I am so empowered and driven to make changes and help other survivors get on the joy jet and off the trauma train, and I do this all with a very joyful heart! The survivor manual helped me do this.

Surviving and leading joyful lives IS possible and it was the survivor manual and Angela Shelton that taught me how to do it. Please donate and sponsor me here for my 24 hour Blog-a-thon so the Survivor Manual can keep helping survivors to heal and lead joyful lives.

Watch the live UStream broadcast of this blog-a-thon here!!!

24 hour Blogathon: Post #1!

2010-03-27T06:04:00.000-06:00

Welcome to my 24 hour Blogathon for the Angela Shelton Foundation!!! Wow I can't believe the day is finally here! Exciting!!!

For those who do not know what I am doing, I will explain:

Starting now (6:00AM MST) I will be blogging and streaming live on my UStream account(Click this to watch me broadcasting this blog-a-thon LIVE) for 24 hours straight to raise money for the Angela Shelton Foundation which inspires and empowers all survivors of abuse to heal and lead joyful lives. A big THANK YOU goes out to everyone that has donated so far! If you would like to sponsor me click here to find my Fundraising page.

I can't wait to see what these 24 hour will bring :)

Stay tuned, I will have more blog posts and stories of the courageous and brave survivors to come soon...

Now for some coffee!!!

24 hour Blogathon: Courtney's Poem

2010-03-26T22:11:00.009-06:00

Little Girl

There's a little girl so lost and scared

she lives inside of me

A little girl who doesn't know

what she was meant to be

A little girl afraid to try

cuz so many times she's failed

A little girl whose afraid

she may burn in hell

A little girl whose hurting

and cries herself to sleep at night

A little girl who tries so hard

yet can do nothing right

A little girl who craves your love

yet hides from you instead

A little girl who cannot fight

the things inside her head

A little girl whose world turned upside down

so may time before

A little girl just waiting

to watch you walk out the door

A little girl whose anger's real

whose words cut like a knife

A little girl who struggles

and has given up on life

A little girl whose heart's so broken

you can see it in her eyes

A little girl whose torn apart

the truth with all her lies

A little girl who was raped and beaten

and taught that she was bad

A little girl who just wanted love

and lost what innocence she had

A little girl who knows what's right

yet does so often what is wrong

A little girl who doesn't know

where it is that she belongs

A little girl who lashes out

and trusts nobody on this earth

A little girl who often wonders

just how much she's worth

A little girl who cries out loud

from the pain deep in her soul

A little girl who holds her heart in pieces

just wishing it were whole

A little girl whose tired

and just wants to give up

A little girl whose waiting

to love herself and be loved

~Courtney~

Anger

2010-03-22T20:45:00.008-06:00

Do you have pent up anger oozing out of every pore of your body? I sure did

A few days ago I was so angry that I wanted to put my fist (or someone's head) through a wall. My anger jar was way over full and it was spilling out and falling onto many difference aspects of my life I tried to take my mind off of the reasons I was angry so I opened up my laptop and joined my circle of friends for support. Just like it was meant to be, this first thing I saw was a status update by a very special friend Glori and it said "Being angry only hurts the person being angry." I must have read that over a hundred times and came to realize that my anger really isn't bothering the people I wanted it to, in fact they didn't even care and some were actually feeding off my anger and enjoying it. I was only causing harm to myself. I was desperate at this point to shed myself of anger and I remembered hearing Angela Shelton talking about literally screaming in closets as a way to feel better. I was a little skeptical of this and was reluctant to do it because I thought I would feel like an idiot. I couldn't calm myself any other way so I walked into my closet, closed the door and SCREAMED as loud as I possibly could and then sat there for a few second. I started to giggle and soon I was letting out side splitting laughs. I opened the door of my closet, looked into the mirror and said "I love you, Squish" to myself and I felt so much better. I couldn't believe it actually worked! I walked out with my head hung high and happy that I learned this new trick.

Are you angry? If so, try this out!! I can guarantee you will come out laughing. Don't stay angry, the world is such a better place when you smile.

Stay tuned, my 24 hour Blog-a-thon to raise money for the Angela Shelton Foundation is this Saturday March 27th! Keep a watch on my blog because I will be posting a new entry every hour starting at 6:00AM MST. It's also not to late to donate, click here and sponsor me, your donation would be GREATLY appreciated!

www.firstgiving.com/stephaniechard

This Saturday is going to be a hoot!!!

We are smarter then perps, so lets prove it

2010-03-10T11:39:00.012-07:00

Okay, lets face it, Perps are genius at manipulation. I still catch people who are the closest to me and know everything about me still falling pray to manipulation that they don't even know is happening to them. We are smarter then these perps, we can outsmart them, so lets prove it! We need to start talking about it and using our voices to teach everyone about their powers of manipulation. People need to be aware of their games and we need to educate people on how to outsmart them. Lets all come together and compare cards so we can defeat them. We can do it!!

Perps have manipulated me and they have manipulated the people that love me and support me. I have been prey to their evil game for to long and now that I am aware I am being played I am fighting back.

They can manipulate supporters of the survivor into believing them instead of the survivor, they manipulate people so well because they are masters at acting, they always know just what to do and to say, sometimes in the most subtle ways, to look like they are the nicest most kind person you will ever meet. They are charmers and will charm all your friends and family very easily.

Also always remember to listen to your gut feelings, as I have learned in the past, it is always right. If you feel like there is something off about a person, then there is.

Watch out for the feelings of guilt, anger, deception, intimidation, control and power because they will come into play at some point if you are dealing with a manipulator. A manipulator will always make just enough sense to make a person doubt their gut instinct. Always remember your gut is always right, listen to it, it's your best friend.

These people will watch for your weaknesses and insecurities and latch on to them like a leach. They often know us better then we know ourselves and know how to push our buttons. Keep an eye out for people that are doing this.

Manipulators are also very good at playing the victim role. They can play this card and make people sympathize and feel compassion for the perp and not the survivor.

Learn and watch for signs of manipulation, let beat them at their own game.

Are you being played? First step is to recognize it, then you fight back

and "For all the precious girls" I love you, I believe you

And so it begins

2010-02-21T18:51:00.000-07:00

Here it goes everyone, here is the start of my blog journey!

My name is Stephanie and I am using this blog as a way to start using my voice to stand up and speak out against Sexual Violence. Many people had taped my mouth shut so I couldn't speak, but today that tape is being removed and I will share with you the tales of how I triumphed and transformed from being a victim to thriving survivor.

There are some pretty amazing women in my life that helped pull me out of the dirt and into the sunshine. One of these women is Angela Shelton and she is the inspiration behind this blog.

I managed to stumble upon Angela one day and my life hasn't been the same since. The first thing I heard about her is that she wrote a book called "Finding Angela Shelton" and I needed to read it. I hardly even knew what it was about but there was a little voice inside that told me I needed to hear this story. I quickly ran to my local book store and I was heartbroken when I found out there was none in stock, not even in other stores near by. My next idea was to get the store to order it in, but they couldn't do that either. I went home feeling very disappointed. I quickly got on my Twitter account and decided to look her up and see if she had a profile and guess what... she sure did! I didn't think I was going to get a response but I decided to tweet her anyway and tell her that her book is no where to be found and asked her how I can get my hands on one. That was the start of a beautiful friendship with an incredibly amazing woman. I quickly learned Angela's story and was completely amazed at this woman and all the work she has done to fight against sexual violence. I found out she made a documentary called "Searching for Angela Shelton" which started out being a survey of women in America but turned into an eye opener to the epidemic of sexual and domestic violence.

You can watch the documentary for free here:

Searching For Angela Shelton - Watch the Documentary Film for Free | Watch Free Documentaries Online | SnagFilms

As soon as I seen this I knew I had to share this message and start spreading the word. I literally ran to my best friends who happen to be the city coordinators for my city and told them all about Angela Shelton and finally when I managed to get everything out I said while fighting back the tears that were swelling up in my eye "We need to get her here!" They were all for it and we are currently working on that.

Meanwhile, I had started following Angela on twitter and I noticed she was talking about "The Army of Angels" a lot. Of course being the curious person I am I had to figure out what she was talking about. I went hunting and I found out that the army is:

Angels – persons committed to healing – who have made the commitment of the Army of Angels and are living Joyfully no matter what. The Army of Angels are people of every gender across all boundaries of race, religion, and political standing, who are committed to healing, awareness, strength and courage. We were inspired and empowered by Angela Shelton to make dramatic shifts in our lives. We now make Angela's work work by moving forward in our lives and helping others do the same. We take action towards our own healing and are actively working towards leading joyful lives! It started with Angela Shelton and continues through all of us. Healing Yourself Heals the World!

All I could think was PERFECT!!! This had my name written all over it and that day I joined the Army of Angel's. I have already made incredible friendships with some Angels and I have never been happier or felt so much support in my life! They have all given me the courage to join the fight! I have removed my sword and I am ready for action, bring it on!

Squish