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Este es un espacio donde sobrevivientes de trauma y abuso comparten sus historias junto a aliados que los apoyan. Estas historias nos recuerdan que existe esperanza incluso en tiempos difíciles. Nunca estás solo en tu experiencia. La sanación es posible para todos.
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Historia de un superviviente
#358
Unos días después
So it's been a few months since then. I went to City on vacation and had an experience I wanted to share. I was walking from the National Museum to public Garden (I had promised myself some great Italien food at a restaurant there) when I walked past a Barber shop with three men standing outside. They were smoking and talking to eachother. They didn't do anything bu the smel that hit me, a mix between a brand perfume, Weed and Vape gas, triggered me. I became scared and paniced. I found it difficult to breath, my head went into a "were in danger, we need to leave" mode and I felt very unsafe, even though (technically) nothhing was wrong. I fled in the first Bookstore I was able to find and stayed there for a good hour. Until I was able to calm down from the worst of it. Control my breathing, stop the shaking and the feeling of fear. The aftermath feelings stayed around for the rest of the day but they were bearable. My therapist told me that I handeled the situation very well. She said that in Trauma therapy, you teach people to bring themselves into a safer environment in their mind. Sometimes that isn't enough though and people need to physically go to a safer place or a place that feels safer. So maybe that can help someone else, if you're in a situation like I was and your "happy place" in your mind isn't enough, go to your happy place in reality, or just a place where you feel safer. Maybe a bookstore or a cafe or an arts & crafts store. Just protect yourself until you're able to continue on.
Historia original
Mensaje para un superviviente
Whenever I feel hopeless and feel as if I will never feel better or I won't recover from this experience, I listen to the Song "Always look on the bright side of Life" from "Monty Pythons Life of Brian". I don't know if it will help others, but that is what helps me and gives me back my happiness
Mensaje de sanación
I can't seem to coherently form logical words decribing what healing means to me or what my healing goals are. This is my fourth attempt at writing something. When I hear the word "healing" I associate with something that is broken, like a bone. And to be honest, I don't think I'm broken. My trust was misused and my words and actions weren't respected. And it will definitely take some time until I have worked through this and am able to move on from it. But I don't feel like I need to heal from it. I will grow. It will probably affect how I meet people in the future, I will probably be a bit more careful and pay more attention to details when I'm around a person I don't know well. But overall, I don't know if healing is the right word for me. I think for me, growing is more appropriate.
I was 21 and had been with my (now ex)boyfried for just 2 months. I met him online. He was sweet and charming and kind. At least, that's what he seemed like. I had been to his home a few times. He lived with another guy in the house of an eldery lady. The house had two stories. You came in throught he front door, to your left was the small kitchen, you'd go up a flight of stairs and right in front of you, would be his bedroom door. That night I was staying over at his place. I had done this before. We had just had dinner and were now cuddling in his rather small bed and watching youtube videos. It was around midnight and at the end of january. He was laying behind me. Whilst I was actively watching the video, his hands started wandering across my body. At first it didn't bother me too much. At first. But then he started touching my butt, squeezing my boobs and placing his hand inside my underwear, I got uncomfortable and asked him to stop. He did. But just a few seconds later, it started again. So I again asked him to stop. And again, he did, but only for a few seconds. At this point I should probably give some info about him. He is 206cm tall (6'9), goes to the gym daily, grew up in suboptimal conditions and had some anger issues. After asking him to stop and saying "No" multiple times, I physically removed his hand from my vagina (several times). But that didn't stop him either. This is when I got scared. He didn't react to my verbal or to my physical resistance. Subconsciously, I evaluated my options. Either I would have to get out and away from him, get on a train and go home. Or I would have to brace myself for an experience that isn't gonna be enjoyable and probably traumatizing as a way of avoiding a more dangerous situation. So I gave up on resisting and just went through with it. I broke up with him shortly after that incident. And then he showed his true colors. And how terrifying and dangerous he actually is. He got really angry at me for breaking up with him, he threatened to kill himself and actually pretended like he was going to do so. And then he started calling me really disgusting names. Safe to say, I was scared. 3 Months after this happened, I went to see my therapist and told her about it. Additionally I had shown her the scary messages he had sent me. (Yes, I broke up with him via Text for my own safety.) It was only after I had talked to her that I realized some things: 1. I had made it very clear that I didn't want to have sex with him or do any kind of sexual things. 2. Me giving up and my stopping my resisting was not me consenting to what he did. I had clearly not given consent. 3. I was in a dangerous situation. The door was locked. He is much taller and stronger than me. He has had issues controling his anger and keeps some weapons (knifes) in his room. So it is very possible that if I resisted more strongly, I would've been in much more danger. and finally 4. It was not my fault. None of it. He didn't respect me or what I wanted or in this case didn't want. He violated my trust. He just wanted what he wanted, not caring if I wanted that too. So that is my story. It's only April so it hasn't been a lot of time since this happened. I know that I am very fortunate to be able to go to my therapist, talk to her about this and work through it with her.
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