To the Survivors

It sucks living day by day wondering when the PTSD is going to haunt you…when the nightmares are going to ravage your head keeping you from sleep and making your waking hours exhausting and terrifying. I understand this feeling because I go through it frequently and right now is one of those times.

I was raped in 1990 by someone who I had trusted for almost 4 years. Because we were all drinking and most of us were underage, not to mention no one believed me or listened, I never reported it. It didn’t help that he threatened me, my family, and my best friend on a regular basis if I didn’t continue to have sex with him and if I didn’t keep my mouth shut.I was still very young and naive and terrified. This person had people that followed me and watched me at all times so I did what he said until I left for the Navy.  A couple years ago, I reconnected with my high school sweetheart and found out that my rapist had raped a couple of my other friends and that he is still running around free. That just added guilt on to my already screwed up head because I thought it was my fault.

As I’ve gotten older and talked to other survivors, I have learned that none of this was my fault. And this is why I write this. To let others know that there are more of us than you realize and we all understand what you are going through. Yes,  we all have different experiences, but we understand the aftermath. The nightmares, the fear that they’ll find you again, the feeling you aren’t good enough for anyone, that you deserved what you got.

I am here to tell you, and remind myself, we ARE strong and we WILL get through this.  Find those you trust…find those you know will listen…find those who will be there for you through these dark times and help you find the light. Myself included. I have vowed to help anyone that needs help — even if it’s just to be an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on.

I hope this letter helps someone…even if it’s just one person. Strength, love, and many blessings to all the survivors out there.

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