This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.
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Original story
I keep telling myself that I am not there anymore. We are not there anymore. We are safe. We are so far away from where we were. Look at a star. Look at how far the light has traveled just so you can see it. We are so far away, and the warmth still finds us again.
Healing is not forgetting. Healing is learning how to live again despite the past being ever-present in my mind. Healing goals: I would like to release my anger and build trust in others again. I would like to let my guard down and allow myself to love others and others to love me. I would like to connect with others. I would like to be able to protect myself and others. I would like to stay kind and compassionate. I don't want to let this memory cool my core.
On the day I found out my long term partner was cheating on me (about a year and a half ago) we got into a huge fight. They left + I drank myself to sleep. They went on a walk, then to the liquor store, and back to our apartment where they saw a man loading my unconscious body into his truck. He had broken in. They stopped the man, and then them and the man brought me back to the apartment. They left me with the man who proceeded to brutally physically and sexually assault me. When I woke up in the hospital several days later, I did not recognize my face. And I still don't quite recognize myself. There was something taken from me and I am no longer as joyful, intimate, trusting, or optimistic. I no longer feel interest or attraction (or, I fear, love) towards others. I would like to heal and move on, but I simply don't know how to get myself back. I am so angry all the time. Not a day has passed since then. I am more angry at my former partner than the man who actually committed the violence. We had shared so many memories, so much love, and I felt that they would protect me. Part of me wonders if they did that because I broke up with them, or whether they accepted money in exchange for me since moving out of our apartment after the breakup was inevitable. It comes in waves. There are days where I am momentarily joyful and full of life, and days where I am filled with sorrow. I have a strong group of friends, and a roof over my head. In my new home, I was able to furnish and decorate my room for the first time in my life. There has been a sense of independence and I have gotten to a point where I feel comfortable alone in my home. Going outside is more difficult. The police never caught the assailant, and I am suspicious of every man: the catcaller, the man at the bar, the neighbor. I would like to start exercising, maybe kickboxing. I am thinking about trying a more intense trauma-focused therapy. I have been writing. A month or so ago, I went to a stabilization clinic. The nurse said she would not have any male orderlies be on my charge. I cried. I didn't realize how much relief I would feel. I am still searching for that relief and sense of safety. One day, some day.
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