Prayers For The Stolen

What I'm about to write about is a touchy subject and not for those that would rather not think about what could happen to a child.  With that said I apologize if I trigger memories of anyone's prior abuse as a child.

Children are a blessing so I've been told but what happens when a child is born to a parent that would rather not have that child just because of their gender?  Oh I'm sure some would love to have a little girl, I know I would, but what if having that little girl meant that she would have a life of hardship?  A life where she might get raped?

Where I grew up girls were treated much like boys unless you had parents that decided one gender was better than the other just because it has genitals that are on the outside of the body.  At times I grew up wishing I were a boy just to please my parents.  Later when I was an adult I often wished I were a boy just because fewer boys get raped.

As a young girl I would dress in jeans and t-shirts just like my brother did and more often than not they were his hand-me-downs.  Why would I wear a dress to swing from a pine tree only to have it ruined by pine sap?  I wouldn't so I didn't care how I dressed when I went out to play with the boys in the neighborhood.

For me I didn't have to worry about making myself ugly as I was usually covered in dirt and smelled like one of the boys.  I was protected enough until I went to school and had to wash up and don a dress.  It was then that I became vulnerable to those that prey on children.

I was just four years old the first time I was molested.  Yes, I was wearing a dress.  No I didn't tell my parents for fear of being hurt by the much older teenage boys who attacked me.

The second incident was just three years later when I was seven years old.  I was playing outside with my brother and a babysitter's son.  I was dressed as a boy and we were throwing dirt and rocks in our little war.  I got hit in the chest.  At age seven I was already developing breasts.  The older boy told me to remove my shirt of which I didn't think anything of and he began to feel me up.  I was mortified.  I was upset.  Again I didn't tell my parents.  Later, many months later, the molestation culminated in me being forced to perform oral sex on the boy that had felt me up.

It didn't matter in the book and it sure as heck didn't matter in my real life how I dressed.  If someone wants to take something from you and is determined to do it at all costs it doesn't matter how it is dressed up.

This post was inspired by the novel Prayers for the Stolen by Jennifer Clement.  Ladydi was grew up in rural Mexico, where being a girl is a dangerous thing.She and other girls were “made ugly” to keep protect them from drug traffickers and criminal groups. Join From Left to Write on February 18 we discuss Prayers for the Stolen. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Scandalous

It never ceases to amaze me what I will think of next when taking a shower.  This particular shower, this particular morning I had quite a bit of clarity while in the shower.  I was even able to think of a book topic. 

Oh the topic I'm sure has been done to death.  But its my topic, I know what went on and when and I know what its like to live it.

I was thinking of the scandals that occur in small town life.  I've lived in a few small towns in my lifetime.  I've become part of their community through various organizations.  In every one I was privy to scandal.  Not that I was the cause of it or the witness to everything first hand, no but I was aware.  Sometimes I did nothing, sometimes I stood up and said something.

When I stood up I did get knocked back down, put in my place as a female of no accord and thought to be silly, flighty, and an instigator.  Small towns are often backward places where the women folk are still barefoot and pregnant as teens through menopause and if they aren't something is wrong with their man.  Where the women folk are seen only when the food is to be prepared, sex is required of them, or they are needed as beasts of burden.  In today's society how can this be still happening in America?  Well it is.  Often we turn our back to it since its so painful to look upon.

Men are not the enemy but often they are the troublemakers in the small towns.  Its not the anonymous one that create the violence like is heard about in the big cities.  In the small towns it could be and often is a person that has a position in the town.  Quite possibly a neighbor, not necessarily an estranged from the community sort but the one that is looked at as a role model.   You can't tell what is lurking behind closed doors until you are invited in.   Abuse of authority is not unheard of but it is often ignored.

Case in point, a former fire chief and military veteran often cheats on his wife and she turns a blind eye to the matter until one day she snaps and confronts her husband's current lover.  The lover, who has been more of a friend to the man than a sexual partner breaks off the affair only to have this so called friend rape her a year later.  When the former lover presses charges after getting a rape kit done she is advised to drop the case because of the man's position in the community.  Little did the  community know that this wasn't the first time this guy has done a violent sex act to a woman.  Doubtful it would be his last either; but this man escaped justice because of the small town ethics.

Second case in point another former firefighter and military veteran beats his wife to the point she ends up in the hospital.  She presses charges, sues for divorce and the soon to be ex then sues her for emotional damage to him.  Really?  I doubt the man was a victim at any point in that marriage.

Third case in point.  An almost adult, 18 being legal adult, child gets into his parents stash of drugs and goes crazy.  He kills both of his parents. One parent had jail time for some long forgotten crime.   Small town ethic ignore the fact that the parents were drug users and the town mourns the parents as if they were heroes.  The child is jailed and finally sent to prison.

Small towns are often idealized by literature and television.  There is usually just as much per capita of violence if not more because most of it is hushed up.

Now what do we do about it?  Do we go into the towns and proselytize?  Do we go in with our pamphlets for domestic abuse, drug abuse, and suicide prevention?  Or do we actually settle in these towns and educate them on how to recognize the signs and symptoms and learn how to prevent them?  I'm not sure if any of the above would work.  I think that perhaps it will always exist in the small towns and always be swept under the carpet when possible.

These are my opinions.  No names or dates were mentioned in the above.

PTSD, A Nightmare In Itself

****Warning what you are about to read is not suitable for all audiences nor is it intended to be.  This is after all my blog about my happenings.

 PTSD is a term heard often on military installations around the globe.  It can be seen on the banners "got nightmares?" with information on whom to contact if you do have the PTSD.  I'm not sure many of us fully understand what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is in fact. Many go undiagnosed.  For me it was diagnosed once the rape kit was sealed up and sent out to the crime lab that awful night of December 2002.   I too was sealed up and sent off but it was to see a shrink in the crime victims unit.  I'm sure I had PTSD before that night as I lived in a very abusive relationship for eleven years.

"What is PTSD?  

What is PTSD? (PDF)

Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is an anxiety disorder that can occur after you have been through a traumatic event. A traumatic event is something horrible and scary that you see or that happens to you. During this type of event, you think that your life or others' lives are in danger. You may feel afraid or feel that you have no control over what is happening.
Anyone who has gone through a life-threatening event can develop PTSD. These events can include:

• Combat or military exposure
• Child sexual or physical abuse
• Terrorist attacks
• Sexual or physical assault
• Serious accidents, such as a car wreck.
• Natural disasters, such as a fire, tornado, hurricane, flood, or earthquake.

After the event, you may feel scared, confused, or angry. If these feelings don't go away or they get worse, you may have PTSD. These symptoms may disrupt your life, making it hard to continue with your daily activities." 
http://www.ptsd.va.gov/public/pages/what-is-ptsd.asp

I awoke early this am to a nightmare.  A PTSD Nightmare.  This time I woke up gasping for air and in a panic.  Once I realized I was no longer in the nightmare I was able to gain control of myself.  There are times I awake from the nightmares angry, crying, screaming or like this morning gasping for air.  Not all of the nightmares are about the rape sometimes they are about the abusive eleven years of my past.

I'm still not sure why I stayed.

It had to be fear.

I knew that some days I had to be extra careful especially when he'd start drinking as soon as he would get home.  When he'd drink anything could set him off.  Usually he'd make sure to hit me where clothing would cover but, towards the end of the relationship he got sloppy.  I had to avoid my own mother for a couple of weeks until the bruises healed enough so she wouldn't get suspicious.  I was totally dependent upon this monster. I had no sense of self worth nor the understanding that I could leave. One day I learned to fight back.  That was the day I escaped from that relationship.  I filed an Order of Protection with the court, of which he violated.  He must have had good lawyers because they always let him go without jail time.

  Unfortunately, for me it wouldn't be the last time I'd be sexually, mentally or physically abused.  No that last time was in December 2002.  But that final time wasn't by my ex.  That final time was by a friend, someone I thought I could trust.  I was a fool.

 I've had therapy and therapy training.  I've learned techniques to cope with the situations when it feels as though it might bring on an episode during the waking hours.  When I'm awake its so much easier to get that grasp on reality.  Its when I'm sleeping and the nightmares creep in that I feel helpless and hopeless.  Thankfully over the years the nightmares have been less frequent with only one or sometimes two a week now.   Time does heal some thing but not all things.

Now I tend to live by my own motto of "Life is what you make of it."  When I get up in the morning I set goals.  No, not goals like I was training for a marathon but simplistic goals of keeping my guard up but not to a paranoid extreme.

 I could have gone into more detail,  a lot more detail about the PTSD nightmares but I'd rather not give any of you readers a nightmare.

 It just feels good to be able to write about this in my blog.  It does sadden me to think that a few of you might actually know how this feels.  I'm sorry too that you know because it doesn't ever go away.  PTSD affects more than just the individual it affect the families too.  Our loved ones don't want to see us suffering from ghost images of memories past.  The loved ones would rather have something tangible to fight as would I.

On an unrelated side note....soldier co-worker refuses to clean weapons.  My spouse told me, just this morning, the reason  stated was that  "doesn't want to get toxoplasmosis".  You cannot get toxoplasmosis from cleaning weapons unless they are in the cat's litter box when you clean them.  ......Hope this gives you a good chuckle after the above seriousness.

 Thanks for taking the time to read my madness.