Unwanted and Riddled with Anxiety

Trigger warning: sexual assault, anxiety, depression

It’s been a while since I’ve sat down and wrote typed out my thoughts. I still maintain a presence in the blogosphere reading, liking, and commenting on other’s posts, but my site has been pretty quiet lately. I have been blogging for over six years now and honestly, it’s had an enormous impact on me. Not only have I made some pretty great connections with strangers on the other side of the screen, I was able to share personal stories via words on a page that I still, to this day, struggle to speak aloud.

It’s Okay to Not Be Okay

Warning: This post my contain triggers associated with sexual abuse, depression, and anxiety. Please proceed reading with extreme caution. My intention in sharing this post is to help people and hopefully encourage those who may be suffering to seek help.

This time of year is always a struggle for me. Mid January carries an enormous amount of pain associated with horrible memories; memories that I feel at times will never dull.

Seven Years and Counting…

I walk in and sit down, handing her a stack of forms to be signed. This has become our routine every Friday morning.

“… and what is today’s date?”

“The 19th,” I replied.

As soon as the last syllable had left my lips, I had a sudden chill run down my spine. If today is the 19th, then tomorrow…

The Calling of the Cats

How did catcalling become a thing and why on earth is it called that!?

It must have originated during the time of cavemen because only then would a grunt be considered a come-on. Think about it… One of the most used catcalls is a simple, ‘Hey!’- one syllable. You know what else is one syllable…? ‘Ugh.’ Sure, the physical gestures have evolved to consist of a nod of the head and/or a wink and in worse cases, a thrust of some sort, but can any man in today’s society claim to have had any type of success with a woman in this way?

Fashion Crimes

Today’s topic is Fashion Crimes; both in the closet and in the courtroom.

First are crimes against fashion…

I have always tried to dress modestly, even through my high school and college years. Not in an extreme sense like those of a religious sect, but I have wardrobe limitations that I have set for myself and stick to.

Haunting Memories

Today marks 6 years since the worst day of my life. On this day in 2011, I was raped at knife point by a man who made my life a living hell for months prior. On this day every year, I can’t help but feel sorrowful. I tend to have panic attacks, I cry a lot, sometimes, I can’t even bring myself to leave the house, and I hate it all. I hate that he has had that kind of impact on my life. I hate that I constantly look over my shoulder when I’m alone. I hate that I don’t trust people as much as I used to. I hate

Oh Lord…

If you have been keeping up with my blog, then you know what I have been through (for the rest of you, you might want to start at the beginning). Like my disclaimer says on my sidebar:

I have lived through experiences that have shaped me into the often cynical, never hateful, magnanimous, shattered loner of a young woman that I am. 

Now before I delve deep into this post,

Part III

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

It was over. My mind was racing and I was full of emotions: happy that he was gone; angry about what he did; relieved that I was still alive; sad that I let it happen; scared that he would come back. What do I do now?

First thing was first: lock the door. After he left, I ran to the door and switched the lock in place. I went to the front door that was never used and made sure that one was locked as well. I looked at the clock in the kitchen. It was mid morning; right around the same time that my class would have been released, which also meant that I was to head to work.

Part II

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

We have all imagined scenarios in our heads and thought about how we would handle them. What if a robber was running towards me on the sidewalk clutching another woman’s bag? I would stick my leg out and trip that sucker before he got away. What if I witnessed a car accident on the highway that ended with it catching fire? I would stop and offer to help. Maybe pull the driver from the burning wreckage… But believe me when I say: what you think you would do and what you actually do can be very different.

Part I

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

I know what you’re thinking: “How does it get any worse?” I had mentioned in another post that I endured being blackmailed into having sexual encounters with The Recluse because I knew that it wouldn’t last; once he had his way with me, I would be back in the arms of the one person I truly loved. How messed up is that!?