she has fallen and now she is awake

Tag Archives: surviving

what fuckery is this?

So today I was out and about and wandered past a chemist. They had bags out the front (the ‘enrivo’ bags made of unrecycleable plastic monstrosities) with the slogan ‘It’s all WHITE to say NO’.

I was…taken aback. To say the least. I stopped, I looked. I walked on. I went back.

How the HELL is this a good slogan against Child Sexual Abuse? How? What part of this makes sense?

The pitch with it is “Bravehearts encourages all Australians to purchase an official white balloon, or white balloon day enviro-bag from any Terry White Chemist and to wear white, the colour symbolising a child’s innocence – to show support for victims, help shift attitudes and break down the stigma and silence associated with child sexual assault.”

If it’s all ‘white’ to say no, that presumes it’s all ‘white’ to say yes. And places the fucking burden of not only dealing with the assault but also dealing with the presumed consent square on a child. Propositioning a child is not okay, they shouldn’t fucking HAVE to say no! How is this something that has become a slogan for a charity working against child sexual assault and abuse?

It’s bad enough that rape ‘awareness’ campaigns for adult women centre on ‘YOU make it stop’ but now kids are responsible for stopping it too?

I know, I know, it’s not meant that way. Pity about it coming across like that then…


On bullshit hangovers

Chances are, some of you have suffered through a hangover. Christ knows I have. What I’m suffering right now is a bullshit hangover – not through over-indulgence of alcohol, but over-exposure to bullshit.

Quick history lesson time! I had three serious partners before Wolfman and all three have had some effect on my current psyche. Mofo being the most positive in effect (since, y’know, we’re still friends with him and The Artist, one assumes the breakup can’t have been all bad and the relationship certainly must have been okay) but the first two dealt me some lasting damage. One obviously so thanks to raping me, but my first boyfriend probably did the most insidious of damage, the shit that flies under the radar til it smacks me in the face and I fall apart. It’s mostly his bullshit that I still have thing fucking hangover from.

So, this post goes out to Aza, with all his fucking bullshit. Read more of this post

On healing

I truly believe being pregnant and breastfeeding has healed me of traumas I never imagined I’d be able to be rid of.

As a child, I was a control freak. My father was an angry man and an alcoholic. His relationship with his mother was not the best and when I hit puberty our relationship became even worse. Periods of hatred and anger got longer and longer. Exacerbated by my parent’s misguided notions of the ‘safety’ of small town living (their version “you know who the bad people are!” my version “but no-one believes you because they’re friends and relatives!”) and my own awkwardness. I had a period where I randomly and uncontrollably began crying and refused to leave my room. I still managed decent grades, but my social life was shattered and I was not well. When I left home it didn’t get better, but it didn’t get worse.

Then, like one in four, one in six, one in however many your statistics say, I was raped. I fell apart in a manner entirely indistinguishable from most people my age. I drank to excess. I made bad decisions. I hated myself. Then I began self-injuring. Then I began contemplating suicide. Then I attempted suicide. Then I drank some more.

Then I got medicated. Then I got therapy. Then I got into a healthy relationship. Then I began to heal and function.

I still wasn’t okay though. I was triggered most days – we live in a rape culture and I was a rape victim. I spent a lot of time on edge and feeling out of control. This is a great explanation of triggering and the types of triggers – a bad one could set me back for days. A really bad one would set me back to fantasising my own death. Still, I managed to survive it and get to a place where I could be happy. I got a job, I got married, I bought a house.

I moved, I got a different job and decided to start a family. Read more of this post