My Story | Survivor Stories | Male Survivors | Resources
Safety Tips | Speaking Out | Triggering Media | The Wall
Distractions | Poetry | Guilt and Shame | Anger | Statistics
Physical Aftermath | Emotional Aftermath | Tori Amos
Relationships | Quotations | PTSD | Medications | FAQ
Books | RAINN | Articles | Message Board | Chat Room
Search Engine | Banner Exchange | Link Banners
Guestbook | Email

Survivor Stories

an aching realization, defeat. a terrible destruction: to fight and not win. to struggle for control over your own body and realize that you are not strong enough to win the fight. i had dreams where i punched him with all the strength in my body and it was enough to make the heavens rumble and leave him dying on the ground. my rings sliced across his face making a delicious sound. left him bleeding and dying on the ground. neck broken, face bashed in, body destroyed by my fury. i had dreams where i won but this was not one of those dreams. this was my bed, my body fighting and losing against someone i considered my equal if not my inferior.

my legs were hammers on an anvil, my arms vines with thorns to tear. my teeth were the teeth of wolves and my hands fiercer than bullets in their pounding. and yet with every blow he pushed harder inside of me until the whimpers began to escape my mouth like runaway children. "no" is a word that is supposed to have meaning but when it just spurs your rapist on into harsher acts of cruelty it becomes useless, it becomes the word that actually brings you pain instead of stopping it. this person will always be a part of me, there is no use in denying it. my rapist was my boyfriend, my lover. the man who gave me pleasure when i asked for it. the man beside whom i laid at night and told my secrets to. who better than to betray me with his lust for power? when no becomes a talisman for pain your world will never be the same.

anal rape: the first time: she saw nothing, eyes open. saw nothing except the fear coming off of her body in great billows of red flames. flames to reach around them and consume the bed on which they struggled. her bed had become a battleground, colored red with lost blood and strangled dreams. blood to roll and drip down into a viscous pool in which he bathed, holding her down as she fought. fighting only made it hurt worse but still she struggled and he pumped deeper inside. deeper and harder every fucking time she pushed against him. "no" becomes an aphrodisiac and fighting the key to open the door to more pain.

anal rape: the second time: she was staring at the ceiling, she was staring at his shoulder over her. she closed her eyes and stared at nothing but her own defeat. her own defeat that screamed in rage as her body was ripped open and a wound was given that would never trully heal. it took nearly all of her concentration to keep those muscles relaxed. for to tense them, to struggle would only cause more pain. the pain a live, writhing thing with all its teeth locked into her soul. she did not struggle this time but let herself drift away, eyes open so that the pain was a heavy weight on her body rather than the searing, all consuming fire that had taken her before.

and yet, my most vivid memory: sitting on the toilet as the blood and shit and semen poured out of me. i began to gather together my army, regroup and re-strategize. the war had just begun and i was training to be a general in a war i would most certainly win.

Laura Hartman

I have been dealing with this since i was 10 years old, or so i think. the mind never really does cease to amaze me. i recently discovered that i may have been raped in 5th sounds kinda funny. i think i may have been raped. anyway, i don't really know the truth, and probably never will.

well, i was thirteen when the second incident occurred. it was easter sunday, and my aunt asked me if i'd like to sleep over. in a desperate attempt to get out of it, i said yes. i don't know why i didn't want to stay, i just had a bad feeling. i figured "hey, what can be so bad? it'll be fine" well, 3 years later, i'm still not fine. but that's not my story. back to easter ' other cousin.....lets call her "j" was sleeping in the bed above me, and i on the floor next to her. my cousin......"b" was sleeping accross the room. he decided to wake up and drink some beer, supposed. anyway, he woke me up, sat down beside me and started groping my chest. he kept telling me to take my shirt off, and get to work. words that still haunt me to this day.

needless to say, nothing more happened. he left my side, went to bed, and told me that it goes "nowhere." as a terrified 13 year old, i listened, and it didn't leave my mouth until about a week later when i told my friend. for some odd reason, i wanted nothing more that for that same friend, the guy that i had known my whole life, to leave me alone, and never come near me again. i understand now that it was basic shock, but it scared me so bad back then.

well, almost 2 years later, and a lot more people came to find out. nothing really came of it though. none of my friends seemed to understand, so i just brushed it off, or so i told them. i was in a pit of depression. then came my sophmore dance. i took a guy i met when i was 13, about 6 months prior to the incident. i didn't really know him, but he seemed nice, so i figured it'd be fine. i thank god every single day that i took him, and not some to her guy. turns out, he thought he knew my cousin, and it pissed me off so bad that he thought he was a decent guy. well, later that night, he heard a different view, and now we're the best of friends. he was the first person for me to really open up to. he understood me......yes, he really understood me. he has been there too.

ok, august of 2000, my younger cousin slept over my house. younger, but quite large, he went farther than i'd like to discuss, but he didn't rape me, thank the lord. i truly believe that i hit rock bottom at that moment. i thought i was finally through with the 1st one, and ready to move on, when life slapped me accross the face again. i decided to tell my mom right away, just get it overwith. well, aparantly, my clothes are too tight, and i didn't say no loud enough. yeah, so i cried. i decided that she'd be a lot more understanding as to why i've been depressed for so many years, if id just tell her about the easter one. so long story short guidance office, very angry, and the worst thing she could've ever said to me: " do you realize what you could do to his reputation? ".....yeah, so i cried again. i'm still crying inside, and my friends are sick of me. all but that one boy from the dance. i love him for that. he's my best guy friend, and i owe him my life and a million times more. thank you for reading my story. i hope i didn't drag it out too long, but i had to tell it in its entirety. feel free to email, i'll be glad to talk to you.

Kathleen Johanna

I have been to counsellors since I was about 15. There was always something wrong with ME. The first counsellor wanted to talk about my father and I will never forget this sickening feeling in my stomach. I can't! There is nothing to talk about. I am back in counselling. I can barely work yet barely live. I see fathers with their daughters and I feel nauseous and want to grab the little girl and take her away.

One of my sons turned 5 recently. I always dreaded him turning 5 and still do not know why. I dissociate from sex. I don't trust older men with young girls or teenagers. My father is a promenent man. I feel sick writing this and am fearful that somehow, somewhere someone will know it is me writing this. I have images that I cannot explain. I have fear and agony I cannot explain. I cannot cope.

My husband and doctors say it sounds like something happened to me with my father but I have no overt memories of such and I am certain that something that f^c^ing horrific happened a person would never forget. I remember being assaulted at a party. I remember older men making come-ons to me. I remember my car accident.....this too I would remember. Someone help me figure out what is wrong with me. Thank you....God help me and all of you that live with this every day.

Name Withheld

Tell your story.

[Page 1 | Page 2 | Page 3 | Page 4 | Page 5 | Page 6 | Page 7 | Page 8 | Page 9 | Page 10 | Page 11 | Page 12 | Page 13 | Page 14 | Page 15 | Page 16 | Page 17 | Page 18 | Page 19 | Page 20 | Page 21 | Page 22 | Page 23 | Page 24 | Page 25 | Page 26 | Page 27 | Page 28 | Page 29 | Page 30 | Page 31 | Page 32 | Page 33 | Page 34 | Page 35 | Page 36 | Page 37 | Page 38 | Page 39 | Page 40 | Page 41 | Page 42 | Page 43 | Page 44 | Page 45 | Page 46 | Page 47 | Page 48 | Page 49 | Page 50 | Page 51 | Page 52 | Page 53 | Page 54 | Page 55 | Page 56 | Page 57 | Page 58 | Page 59 | Page 60 | Page 61 | Page 62 | Page 63 | Page 64 | Page 65 | Page 66 | Page 67 | Page 68 | Page 69 | Page 70 | Page 71 | Page 72 | Page 73 | Page 74 | Page 75 | Page 76 | Page 77 | Page 78 | Page 79 | Page 80 | Page 81 | Page 82 | Page 83 | Page 84 | Page 85 | Page 86 | Page 87 | Page 88 | Page 89 | Page 90 | Page 91 | Page 92 | Page 93 | Page 94 | Page 95 | Page 96 | Page 97 | Page 98 | Page 99 | Page 100 | Page 101 | Page 102 | Page 103 | Page 104 | Page 105 | Page 106 | Page 107 | Page 108 | Page 109 | Page 110 | Page 111 | Page 112 | Page 113 | Page 114 | Page 115 | Page 116 | Page 117 | Page 118 | Page 119 | Page 120 | Page 121 | Page 122 | Page 123 | Page 124 | Page 125 | Page 126 | Page 127 | Page 128 | Page 129 | Page 130 | Page 131 | Page 132 | Page 133 | Page 134 | Page 135 | Page 136 | Page 137 | Page 138 | Page 139 | Page 140 | Page 141 | Page 142 | Page 143 | Page 144 | Page 145 | Page 146 | Page 147 | Page 148 | Page 149 | Page 150 | Page 151 | Page 152 | Page 153 | Page 154 | Page 155 | Page 156 | Page 157 | Page 158 | Page 159 | Page 160 | Page 161 | Page 162 | Page 163 | Page 164 | Page 165 | Page 166 | Page 167 | Page 168 | Page 169 | Page 170 | Page 171 | Page 172 | Page 173 | Page 174 | Page 175 | Page 176 | Page 177 | Page 178 | Page 179 | Page 180 | Page 181 | Page 182 | Page 183 | Page 184 | Page 185 | Page 186 | Page 187]

To view the next page of stories click the image
below or use the links above to select a page.

[ Home | My Story | Survivor Stories | Resources | Safety Tips | The Wall | Distractions | Poetry | Guilt and Shame | Relationships | The Aftermath | Anger | Statistics | Tori Amos | Quotations | Message Board | Articles | Search Engine | Banner Exchange | Link Banners | Webrings | Guestbook | Email ]