Tag Archives: Sexual abuse

Another Chance…..

Wouldn’t it be nice to be born again? To get a chance to have a fresh start and completely erase all the horrible things you’ve done and all the horrible things that have been done to you. I watched a movie about a girl that was physically abused by her mother. Because of that abuse she was a very damaged adult  that did pretty terrible things. Being overwhelmed by the guilt of the things she had done and unable to forget what had been done to her  she ended up committing suicide . She ended  her life with the hope that she would be born again and have a better life. I could never really understand the reasoning behind incarnation but after watching this film, I get it.

I too, have said many times that I want another chance, ” God give  me the chance to be born again, to live a different life, to make better choices.” I’ve said so in fits of anger, and pain, forgetting that as a Christian I have been born again.  That I too, will die and have a fresh start in heaven but not only in heaven here on earth as well.  Because Jesus died for me I am not shacked by the mistakes of my past, or of the pain inflicted upon me by others and myself. I am free. I may never forget what I have done or what was done to me but because I know I am free  I can choose to live a better life. I have hope in Christ that tomorrow will be better than today.

Sometimes life can be painful. Living itself, being human is painful. Maybe you want another chance but you don’t see a way out. Maybe, you’re too scared to stop what you’re doing and try something different.  Or maybe you feel like you deserve to suffer or be punished because of  the things you’ve done or things others have done to you.  What I want to say is this,”In Jesus Christ you have another chance, in fact because He loves you so much you have many chances. There is hope to live a better life and make a different choice, a better choice and you don’t need to be reincarnated for that.

In terms of sexual abuse or sexual activity it can feel like you’re forever marked or scarred by what has happened to you or by your choices.  It can feel like you’re stuck, stuck forever with the remnants of your past  forever stained and wounded on the inside. Because its your body, a body that you can’t change you may feel like in this life “I will never have another chance, because no amount of washing, or cutting, or starving, will ever make me clean again.”  But I’m here to tell myself and to tell you that in this life you can have another chance. Jesus sees you and in Him you are whole, He sees you and He wants you to come as you are.  At least, that is my hope, and my belief. Tomorrow will be better than today. Choose to be free.  God bless.

Image by Judy Prosser http://www.judyprosser.com.au/prints&cards/Prints/309.htm


God loves you

Good Morning,

I would be doing an injustice on this blog if I didn’t mention the love of God.  God loves you. He wants you. He understands you.  He wants to save you from your sin and your  suffering and give you peace. Perhaps by saying this I am reminding myself of the love God has for me.

I’ve been at the very bottom. Struggling since I can remember with self worth, struggling with abusing my body, and abusing my mind even today. Sin has had a strong hold but in Christ I know I am free.

How could God love a vile person such as me? Well,He just does. Jesus loves me and He loves you too. His love is free, you don’t have to earn it, you don’t have to starve yourself for it, or cut yourself, or be abused, you don’t need to be beautiful to get it, He just loves you and me.   Because Jesus suffered and died for my sins I do not have to have to punish myself, I do not have to be weighed down by guilt. In Jesus Christ I am free and you can be too.

We are looking for love. Looking for acceptance.  Some of us looking for riches, for fame. We all want validation. But that is the hunger and the thirst  that our souls have for God. We feel if we have love from a man it will satisfy our longings, ease the ache in our chest, and give us peace. But you can have a good man and still be uneasy ,still be discontent, still feel empty because no man will ever love you the way that God loves you and no man can give you what God can.

Men will leave you, they disappoint you but God has always been there. He’s been there even in those times when you have felt alone. The times you feel used, ugly, worthless, the times you clinged shamelessly to a person that doesn’t want you anymore. God has been there. He’s been there when you’ve cried into your pillow, when you have self- destructed. God has been there. He’s always been there because God is love and He loves you.

The best advice I would give to anyone struggling with life, with themselves, is to cry out to God. Cry to Jesus. He’s there no matter what you have done, are doing or where you are or where you have been.  He wants to love you and He accepts you . Only God can take the ugliness of our sin and make it into something beautiful. God Bless you.

A Hurt that Won’t Quit

Do all children that have been sexually abused, objectified and exploited all grow up into adults that have a hard time feeling loved?

I have a hard time feeling love. A part of me knows I am loved but there is a part of me that can’t quite accept the love of the men in my life. I have a nagging voice in my head and aching anxiety in my heart that makes me feel like I am not loved.

It’s painful, a hurt that won’t quit. No matter how much my father tells me he loves me, no matter what he does for me I still feel unloved by him. Like a child I constantly need his assurance of love and he has to assure me the way I want to be assured. Every day he has to tell me he loves me. Every day I need hugs and validation that I am loved and accepted by my father.

With my boyfriend its even worse. Everyday multiple times a day I tell him I love him with the expectation of him saying it back. After seven years he has said it more times than I can think to remember, but it’s still not enough for me.

I have searched through him, underneath and above him trying to find the answer, trying to feel loved, looking to him for acceptance. But he is only human; there are limits to what he can do. I am emotionally draining because I am emotionally drained myself.

Despite my knowing that nothing was taken from me on the day of the death of my nine year old self, it still feels like a part of me is missing. Something is missing, I can feel it. I feel this painful hole, this void of loveless-ness and unworthiness within my chest.

I sometimes revert back to that girl crying on the shower flow. But it’s more than crying its mourning, it’s a grief that comes from deep within my belly causing my whole body to distort. It is painful. I wrote a letter to my nine year old self trying to make peace, but how can I make peace when my soul is crying out for justice. Where is justice for me? Where is my peace? It’s not in this world of that I am sure.

He sees me crying for hours over the simplest things. But 90 percent of the time the pain I feel has nothing to do with petty, insignificant matters he just happens to scratch the surface of a wound that never healed. And like a wound just a touch, makes it bleed and bleed and bleed. All the tears I never cried I am crying now. All the pain I couldn’t feel I feel it now.

Pain, pain and more pain is what that man gave to me.  He was the first man to use and dump me. He was the first person to make me feel like a pile of garbage, like nothing, like I was not human.

Maladies of the Mind and Casual Sex

Casual sex was my comfort, my defense, sex was a tool that I used, the action that brought dopamine to my dopamine deprived brain. Casual sex did not make me depressed, instead for me, it was a symptom of my depression. Back then I probably looked like a shallow slut to my peers but It was my bandage. I needed it to feel good, my teenage mind could not understand that I was harming myself. And like smoking a joint , or drinking too much, it  just added to the longevity of my depression and  when those minutes, hours of  “fun” were over the things that plagued my mind were still there.

I went from casual sex, to drinking, to smoking, to cutting, to doing all those things simultaneously. I am the master of self-medication, unfortunately.  I missed out on learning how to soothe myself in a healthy way, self comfort for me is always self destructive. Hurting myself comforts me even at my age,  I feel pathetic admitting this but I am just being honest.

I got into a serious relationship, a long distance serious relationship, and casual sex, drinking and smoking all went out the window, and cutting remained. I always say that it has been the one constant source of comfort in my life which saddens me, it grieves me. I am in anguish to feel that taking a blade to my skin soothes me, but it does, it delivers the dopamine to my brain, the dopamine that I need. It is a coping mechanism that I wish I never tried. A malady that after 7 years  I cannot rid myself of. When I cut myself I can  see better, I am seeing from eyes that are not my own, I automatically snap out of whatever kind of emotional meltdown I am experiencing, I can focus better, I can rationalize better,like someone chasing their first high I think if I cut some more maybe I will feel even better, it is a terrible addiction, you do not want to deal with this and I do not wish this on anyone.

I was on antidepressants but my feelings were monotonous. Life is not meant to be lived in one note there are ups and downs its learning how to manage those ups and downs is what counts.Being an unfeeling zombie that is constantly gaining weight or starving oneself and self mutilating? You choose? Since I have gotten off my medication I went back to starving and cutting, starving and cutting and thoughts of suicide. And I wonder if I was not in a relationship would  I have gone back to casual sex too?

I am caught in the cycle of self harm and depression. I just substitute one behavior for another.

I cut myself this time, recently after over a year of being cut free. This time I disassociated while cutting, I saw myself cutting my wrists and I did the oddest thing I took the blood on my wrists and smeared it across the walls of my bedroom, and I am watching myself do this odd behavior and thinking, “this is not normal, why are you doing this” but I could not stop. As I did this I saw flashback of that nine year old child, I was her sitting on the floor scratching at her legs for the first time I felt like her, I saw her and it scared me. Yes what I just wrote is disturbing but it does not make me any less human, or any  less lovable, or less than the next person that just cries or copes with stress in a healthier manner.

Despite my struggle (and believe me when I say every bleeping day is a struggle) I fall on the ground and curl up into a ball  and cry sometimes because I feel like I don’t have the strength anymore but I keep picking myself back up. Starving, bleeding  from cuts, dizzy from lack of food I still pick myself back up. Life is a journey with many winding roads, you will fall maybe more than those around you but what matters is that you keep picking yourself back up, you tried. Keep trying, fight to live, life is a gift so keep fighting to live.

People may read this and tell me I need help, saying that to me is counterproductive  because I know that I need help.I am blessed that I am able to function and no one knows unless I tell them, I’m  like that functioning alcoholic that does everyday things. Of course I know my behavior is unsustainable.I hope people read this and thank God that they have a sound mind, its a sad thing to watch yourself deteriorate, relapse, or be sick mentally. It is sad when you can see it but you are unable to stop.  I never will be 100 percent healed or perfect because I am only a mere human. But in my imperfection I can offer and give you my story so you know that if you are struggling like me you are not alone, or if you have someone you love going through this maybe it will help you understand them better.

I am a Christian and I suffer from these maladies of the mind, it does not mean  that God loves me less. God is with me in those time of depression, He sees me, He cares for me, I’m sure His heart is grieved, with His strength ,mercy and His unconditional love to want to love me in this state, He is my hope that tomorrow will be a better day.

I hope this inspires you to live, fight to live.



Sex Is……

Sex Is Not the Medication That Will Make Your Mind Right.  That one sentence says it all. Casual sex should not be used to remedy any sort of emotional aliment.

Habitual Casual sex is a symptom, a band aid, a quick fix, self-medication and  it always often masks a deeper problem. Sometimes you are not even aware of what that problem is, you just know that sleeping around soothes, or comforts, you for a short time. What happens when you stop, when those partners have moved on and are not around? How do you deal with the loneliness or the anxiety? Are you craving sex or the intimacy?

Casual sex compounds situations such as  sexual abuse or rape because engaging in  casual sex can  make you  feel like you  are reliving the situation again.Consensual sex might trigger  a flashback of rape or abuse. The inability to say no but the desire to say no might leave you feeling confused. For some who have been  abused casual sex can be used as a form of punishment. Because of  the abuse some women  feel disconnected from themselves when they have sex. They are not present during the action and this can cause an unhealthy relationship with sex to begin. I remember having sex  with random people and in my mind screaming no, but instead moans came out.  Sex became my prison  I had to  suffer through this torture.I was hurting myself with sex. My whole view of sex became warped, it was ugly, bad, a burden, a chore, all because I used sex to help me escape from the conflicts raging  in my mind. Sexual abuse allowed me to disconnect and disassociate during my casual sex encounters. I wasn’t there, that wasn’t really me sleeping with all those men. Because I wasn’t there emotionally during sex, I felt nothing for those men. They meant nothing to me. I was in control, I was the sexual aggressor, by not saying no they couldn’t force me into doing anything I didn’t want to. My story is not does not speak for every woman. Not every woman who has been raped, or molested engages in casual sex. For me, that was just what I ended up doing, it was my way of trying to resolve the confusion in my mind. Sex was my escape, I could use it to get things, it was my band aid, and my medication. Only, sleeping around made it worse. Here I was, saying yes, but thinking no, and feeling disgusted at them and at me afterward.Along with drugs and alcohol this is the worst form of self-medication especially if you have been raped, or abused.

I’m guilty of using casual sex as a bandage for my broken heart. I did this all the time with my on and off again boyfriend. As soon as he left me, that same day, I was in bed with someone else. If I was not under the influence I could not ignore the ache in my chest as I was tossed around  by some faceless man. Its not that sleeping with someone else made me forget him, it just made me feel like I was hurting him. In reality, I was only hurting myself, I got no enjoyment from the sex except a false sense of “Look of who’s crying now.” Casual sex won’t mend your broken heart it might just cause an even bigger ache.

Sex is not the cure for low self-esteem or lack of self worth. Sex is not the price you have to pay to get the worth that  you thought you gave away back. In my book I mention an example of having sex in my teens with a guy I liked and he rejected me soon after. He ignored my phones calls, and eventually ended up telling me to leave him alone. At that young age I thought I had lost my worth, I really believed that he took it, he had it, and I wanted it back. I thought that sleeping around would validate my worth. Men wanting to have sex with me meant that I was attractive,and  beautiful.That was a false sense of self-worth and self-esteem.  I can’t stress this enough, “You were born with self-worth it is not something any man or woman can give to you or take away from you. Self-esteem is something you find, it has nothing to with anyone else.”

Is casual sex your drug, or do you use it as therapy? Only you can fix you, not a man, and not a dick, that is why sex is not the medication that will make your mind right….

Your Identity and Sexual Abuse

Dear Abbie,
               When you were 9 something horrible happened to you. There was nothing I could do but watch because I was only a child back then too. Because I was helpless at protecting you I carried you around out of guilt for years thinking that not forgetting about that horrible day would make it up to you, make it up to myself. You were burdensome. You shaped who I was, you shaped the person I became and all the while I was growing up and going through life making the decisions of an abused 9 year old girl. I used your pain to fuel my existence, you were the reason for going on and when I wanted to die you were my excuse. I blamed you for all the bad things I had done and for all the things I could never be. I had a hard time accepting your you and in turn I could not accept myself. And as much as I resented you for being 9, and for being helpless, as much as I wanted to move on with my life I continued to hold on to you out of guilt. Abbie this is goodbye. I’m not 9 anymore. I want to give you peace. You don’t have to hover over me like a dark a cloud anymore, you don’t have to look after me anymore. I survived. I have a hopeful future ahead of me. I’m happy, and even though I will never get closure from the man that hurt you and myself, I forgive him. I forgive myself for making bad decisions that only compounded what was done to me and to you. Letting go of you does not mean that I will forget you, how can I when you are part of me. You no longer define who I am. I’m moving on to a future without you and I am leaving you in the past. Before I close the coffin on almost two decades of keeping you with me, I want to tell you that I’m sorry that happened to you, I’m so sorry.

After I was abused at 9 I soon started calling myself by my other name Kelsey, I thought that Abigail( Abbie) was an unlucky name. I will always be separated from that child, and when I describe who I know I know is myself I always want to show the separation of self which I believe is common with children who have been abused.

I think a lot adults who have been abused as children have a hard time letting go of that child that was abused. I had a conversation with a fellow blogger, I appreciate her concern for me but I don’t need anymore medication nor do I need a therapist. She wanted me to get help because I admitted that I still cut myself every now and then, I exercise obsessively sometimes, I have flashbacks when I’m about to orgasm with my boyfriend, I’m numb and I can’t feel anything when I remember what happened to me at 9 and I don’t like to use my voice to vocalize what happened to me. I’m imperfect just like the next person, I will never be healed completely. I don’t need to dwell on what happened, Im blessed to be able to move on with my life. My advice to someone who has been abused is that what happened to you as a child does not define you, should not be your motivation to live. Let go and be free that is the best gift you can give to that child and to yourself. I am the master of self medication, I have tried medication prescribed by a psychiatrist and I have tried therapy. I do not feel compelled to dwell on it any further. There are people who need medication and therapy because the abuse was so severe, or because they can’t cope and that is fine too but you will never be healed completely.We have to stop aiming for completion when we want healing from abuse, it is not possible, and that is what makes us human. You will never go back to being the person you were before the abuse and that is okay.  I will never forget and other victims out there will never forget the abuse but I don’t need to remind myself of it daily.Its okay to talk about it, cry about it, and remember it, that will never go away but you can have a life that is not inclusive of the abuse. The best thing you can do for yourself is move on if you can, and take those broken pieces and do something great with them by  helping  yourself first then helping others. Sexual abuse does not define who you are. There is hope, love, happiness, success and life after abuse.


Sex and Self-Harm

Sex and self-harm can often go hand in hand, even out of the sphere of sexual abuse. The first time I cut myself I was 18, I etched the word worthless into my arm with a needle. That began my love affair with self-mutilation.

It was my drug, my fix, it made me feel better than any man ever could. Because of years of sleeping around I was disconnected from myself, and my emotions. I did not know how to cope,or feel anything like a real person would. I was forever stuck in this role as a real, live sex toy. All the pain I felt, all the words I could not express, I took out on my skin. My scars speak when I can’t find the words to.

I worked at a very popular lingerie store and I met a girl there that cut herself too. She used sex as a means of getting a guy to commit to her, but it never quite worked out that way. A girl in my class also cut herself, and she slept around too.  When I hung around the pimp/ prorn producer I saw a girl drunk, dancing in the living room of some random apartment with scars all over her arm, just like me. Sex and self-harm is prevalent.

After half a decade of sleeping around, I needed to be drunk to have sex, or I needed to be high. It stopped feeling good. I couldn’t feel anything but I reveled in the male attention. After all, having sex was better than being alone, or being bored? Right? Needing to be under the influence of any type of mind altering substance to perform sexual activities with a man is self harm.The escorts do it, the women in porn do it, and if you have been having casual sex long enough you probably do it too, we all need something to take the edge off.

Because I slept around so much I had to be perfect physically. I starved myself because I wanted to be a fantasy.I had to maintain the flat stomach, the 19 inch thighs with a little space in between them. I basked in the glory of what some men thought was physical perfection. I never starved myself to the point of death, or it being too obvious. I starved myself to the point where I couldn’t sleep at night because I was so hungry and, my stomach would get swollen every time I ate.  I got a high off of being hungry. That is self-harm. No woman should have to starve herself for sex. Doesn’t casual sex sound liberating and empowering?

Some would say that my experience with casual sex wasn’t so bad. I got a long term relationship out of it. I got proposed to. I had numerous boyfriends. I went to marvelous parties. I met a few famous people. Superficially, it doesn’t sound so bad. It actually sounds fun, maybe to some.

But if you stripped me naked you would see my scars. Ugly, dark, and permanent like the constant turmoil inside my mind. How could I have been hurting myself for almost a decade? Even after I stopped sleeping around I couldn’t really stop.

The cutting began six months into my relationship with the man I am still with now. When I stopped jumping from man to man is when it caught up to me. Sleeping with multiple men was my way from running from rejection, it was my escape, it was my band aid, the thing that got me through a lonely night, it made me numb to the world, and it was the action that stroked my ego. 

Casual sex can be used as self-harm. If you’re having sex because you feel that you have no other option that is self-harm. Sex with a random guy because you feel worthless is self-harm. Sex is not meant to hurt you emotionally.Sex is not supposed to be a punishment.

My scars remind me that I am human. I am more than more than a sex toy. I can hurt and I can bleed. They remind me that I have feelings and having emotions is okay. They remind me that I am alive.

If you are struggling with self-harm, there is help. It’s not easy, but you will heal and recover. Your scars only show your tenacity, and that you got over a really hard time in your life. 

Help : http://www.selfinjury.com

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds,” Psalm 147:3. Jesus is always an option. If no one else wants you He does,scars and all.