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3:49 p.m. - 2007-02-23
I want it in ink
Ok so here it is. I want to write it all out. Whats in me. What I feel. What has gone on in my head for the last 20-whatever years. Not because I think it will be good reading. Not because it will sell, but because I don't want any more secrets. I don't want to play any more games. I want to be real about all the things that did and did not happen to me. I want to get a lot of freaking gorillas off my back if you know what I mean. And I want to remember the good things about my past as well as the bad. I want the whole picture and I want to share it with the people I care about. I want to stop living to please everyone and lying to them when I can't. I want to grow a pair of cahones. They don't have to be big. Just big enough. I never have to worry about men walking all over me again because I married a wonderful man, but I want the world to know what the men before him did to me. I want to be able to feel the pain so I can move past it. Stealth is not strength. Hiding from pain is not the same as moving on, although an outside could rarely tell the difference. I want to move on. I want to be strong. But I'm going to have to be weak first.

DH said something yesterday that triggered a memory buried deep. Its a story I have told him, but based on his comment he does not remember. I think to him, moving on from something means it is no longer in the fabric of your being. But. It. Is. Right here. Woven in with the rest of the good and the bad.

I want to write a no holds barred memoir and I don't care who reads it. Just putting it on paper will be a good enough start for me.

I was raped.


It happened.

Put it on paper. Its not going away.

I cringe at the word "survivor," I don't see myself that way. I wasn't going to die. I just wanted to. I was as alive as every other day in my life, unfortunately. Survival wasn't a question because there was no gun to my head. In fact it has taken me years to accept that what happened. Years, and a friend of one of the rapists who told me he knows what happened and he was sorry. He used the word rape before I ever let myself.

I'm rambling now, but there were things that just needed to come out. And there they are.

I want it in ink. I'm going to write it down.



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