How It All Began
I just looked at my traffic reader that tells me how many people are reading this blog. Someone come resuscitate me.
First off, let me tell you, I am ASTOUNDED at how this blog has grown. I was literally laying in my bed one October morning, three days after I had been raped in my house, and I was completely falling apart. Like I was the definition of falling apart. I could barely think straight. Everything that had happened, was so unconscionable, that I felt like I was walking around in a dream. All I knew was that I was hurting. Everywhere. Inside and out. Physically and mentally. On top of that, I knew that the two neighbors, who were my best friends, weren’t talking to me because I had been raped. I was utterly humiliated because of it. I felt dirty, used, and scared. I was really scared. To top it off, because of them, I felt like one more person, in a long line of them, had seen something wrong with me. Had seen some terrible quality that I must possess that people see, and say “Ah ha, she really is worthless.”
I had a man steal my body and my friends break my soul.
I hadn’t slept in days, and I was at my breaking point. I made some half coherent phone call to Mr. Attorney Man asking if I could put my kids in foster care. I was literally just done with my life. This wasn’t like me. Usually the world throws something at me, I catch it with one hand, and yell back “Is that all ya got!?” But the rape, it broke me. It had just all been too much, for too long. I didn’t care if one day it might get better, it wasn’t better now, and I was tired of waiting for the “one day” to come. I was just so tired. I was tired of having to remind myself to breath. I was tired of walking through a world so clouded with despair. I was just, so, tired.
I don’t know why, but I decided to climb into bed with my laptop and write. Writing has always been very cathartic for me. Sometimes when things get so jumbled up in my head, its easier to reflect on them when I can see them on paper. Sometimes, when I can read in a black and white format what my brain already knows, only then am I finally able to let my heart understand. This time I didn’t know what I was going to write about, I didn’t have a plan or a script, I sort of just opened my computer and let it all pour out. At the end of the day, the “It Is Not My Shame To Bear” story had been written.
I felt better, I really did. That whole day, sitting in my pajama’s, in bed, with my laptop, it was healing. I reconfirmed to myself that I did belong in this world. That even if no one saw it now, that I knew I had to reason to be here.
Several weeks later, I started wondering if other people felt the same way. How I wished that I had someone that I could talk to, that had really been through what I had. Not just the women in the support group who had been raped. Not just someone who didn’t have a family. Not just someone with an abusive ex. All of it. I wanted someone who understood not just the situations, but all of the feelings that went along with a lifetime of trauma’s. I needed to know, that I was not alone.
So I put up the blog. Now up until that point, I had never even set up my own email account. I had no clue what I was doing. I had to google photo credit copyright laws, how to insert links, how to import/export for back up purposes, how to design templates, and you know what? It sucked. I hate computery stuff. I really do. I just want a little computer fairy to come do all that stuff for me. I have like ten other things I’d like to figure out how to do on here, but they escape my knowledge.
Anyways, it has been 90 days since the blog went up, and like I said, I am ASTOUNDED. I can’t believe how many of you are on here. I can’t believe how many of you take the time each day to read what I write. Not even just read, but comment!! You guys, I love your comments!! You are all so smart. So much advice, so much support. I want each and every one of you to know how much I smile when I read your comments. I reply to each and every one, so if you post anonymously you won’t get a reply notification, but if you go back and look, my reply is there. I want to keep the communication open, I don’t want anyone to feel like they are talking to a computer. On top of that, I know what it’s like to walk around feeling invisible. I acknowledge each and every one of you, and what you have to say is important to me.
I had a lot of fun reading the comments in the “Updates” post where I asked everyone to comment where they were from. It was really neat to see how we all circle the globe. I love that image, people from all around the world holding hands in support. Just goes to prove that none of us are ever really alone. I’m still waiting for my Ireland family to comment though….just sayin’….
I love how this blog is flourishing. I love that you guys are comfortable enough to be sharing your stories and opening up. I get so many emails everyday from different readers that aren’t ready to publicly share their stories yet, but just need someone to talk to, and it warms my heart that you have found a safe place to do that.
So I guess what this post has really turned into, is a great big THANK YOU. Thank you for taking the time to read. Thank you for taking the time to comment. Thank you for your kind words, your self esteem boosters, your amazing advice, and above all, thank you for reminding me that I am not the only one struggling. I read so many comments each day from readers thanking me for putting it all out there, and how healing it is for them. Well thank you, for letting me know that you appreciate that, because that is incredibly healing for me. Thank you for being the awesome people that you are.
Just in case no one has told you recently, what you deserve to hear everyday, allow me to remind you,
Photo Credit I Love You: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kubina/
Photo Credit Help Me: http://www.flickr.com/photos/francoforeshock/
Photo Credit Angel: http://www.flickr.com/photos/onkel_wart/