Struggles

I’m contemplating on a new tattoo, or a couple. I’m behind on getting the semicolon tattoo, although it is something I have been longing to get since the Semicolon Tattoo Project began. 

I haven’t been able to make up my mind on exact placement nor if I just want the semicolon itself or anything with it. 

Suffering from PTSD and depression doesn’t come without thoughts of suicide and no longer existing in a world that can be so cruel. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but the thoughts are much more frequent than I would like to admit. Sometimes, it just seems it would be easier, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I have too much to look forward to, to let suicide take over. It’s permanent. I plan to experience every bit of Tristan’s life, and if I’m not alive I can’t do that. I refuse to give up, no matter how hard I struggle. No matter how hard my mind or my illnesses fight against me. 

My last major depressive episode was from January to almost April, the winter months are always the hardest. Seasonal depression. I fought so hard, but for a majority of that time I didn’t think I would win. It’s impossible to come out unscathed; with worry of the next time already etched in ones brain. I’m determined to continue fighting, even though the next episode, I know, will creep up on me at some point. 

To those that read my blog, if you suffer, you aren’t alone. Some days are hard as hell and feel like there’s only one way out, but then there are the good days. Those days are what motivate me to keep pushing. Keep looking for that glimpse of hope; grasp even the smallest light in your life and hold on. The fear and the episodes; they won’t last forever. 

And I’ll be someone you can reach out to, even in my own struggle. 

❤ LAFMommy

Advertisements

A delicate flower

6 months. 6 freaking months.

The amount of time that the judge felt was appropriate to give a RAPIST. He did not sell weed, he didn’t steal a candy bar. He raped a woman, he stole her life, her comfort, her being. He took everything from her that made her, her, and all he received; 6 months.

That’s like a slap on the hand of a toddler that keeps getting into the oven drawer and pulling out pans. It doesn’t teach anything. It isn’t a punishment. It’s an open invitation to do it again. It says, “Oh, no one minds if I stick my fingers or my penis in a place it doesn’t belong, it’s okay, I can do it again.” It teaches other rapists or would-be rapists that it is okay to rape a woman. Go ahead, rape her, you’ll get 6 months in jail and then you can go back to your wonderful life. All the while, she has to suffer through nightmares, panic attacks, self esteem and self worth issues. She will fight with living a semi-regular life and have difficulty maintaining any relationships in her life.

He’ll probably go in and serve his easy six months and then get out and return to his pre-rape life. He’ll drink and he’ll party. Then, one day, it will happen again. This time, it will be someone else’s daughter, mother, or sister. Maybe the next time, he’ll get a harsher sentence. Maybe next time he’ll be seen as a rapist, and not just the toddler than pulled the pan out of the oven.

Let’s talk about why. Turner is a white man, upper class, attending Stanford. Judge Aaron Persky is also a white man, upper class, and previously attended Stanford. Of course, he couldn’t let a Stanford student “suffer” in prison, he’s an alumni. Turner is a delicate flower, he’d SUFFER. Oh, you mean like his victim is suffering ?

What does this say about women ? That we don’t matter ? That because we freaking wake up in the morning, we are giving someone permission to violate us ? Women have fought for equality for a long time. Then, we get a massive slap in the face when a Judge gives a 6 month sentence to a rapist. Equality doesn’t mean that a man can rape a woman and get away with it. Had she done the same to him, she’d have received a harsher sentence.

I’ve been raped. I know how it feels to be stripped of everything. I don’t know what it’s like to go to trial and face such a huge demon head on. I don’t know what it’s like to look your rapist in the eye and confront them in front of a courtroom full of people, and still watch them only get 6 months when all is said and done. However; I do know the endless suffering day to day. I know what it feels like to want justice and not get it. I was too scared to speak up about what happened, and this beautiful woman did. She done what so many others haven’t been able to do. Yet, all she gets is 6 months. Pathetic. Where is her justice ?

❤ LAFMommy

 

[in]Sane

Occasionally I go to your Facebook. I look to see where you live, if it still says the same place as the last time I read it. I scroll through your posts, the ones I can see to see if there is any hint of any new information about you. I study your pictures carefully, remembering the shape of your eyes, the creases in your face.

It isn’t that I want to remember that smirk that you make, or the way you sound when you speak. I don’t want to remember how you smell or how sick I get when I even think of your name. In fact, I don’t want to remember you at all, anything about you. But I have no choice. 

You gave me no choice, no say. 

I struggle to remember every day things, but I remember everything, every little thing, that you did. I remember like it was yesterday. I have no choice but to remember. 

I try to forget, I honestly do. I can’t. So if I can’t forget and I can’t live a normal pre-rape life, then I’m going to etch every inch of your face into my memory. I want to prevent ever seeing you, or you seeing me. Look at that, you even took my sanity. Just when I thought I hadn’t lost almost every bit of myself to what you did to me, I find another part of me that you took. You made me crazy. I try to get my pieces back every day, but you’re holding them hostage it seems. 

I need to know, how do I get my pieces back ? 

❤️ LAFMommy