Let’s talk about sexual assault: the truth about RAPE. real non consensual sex; RAPE

 Sometimes people don’t listen to you when you state adamantly that:

“no, I don’t want to fuck you right now”

And they proceed to violate the physical temple that is your earthly form, the vessel the eternal goddess glows through ,to convey her imperplexible luminous residue. They slash that sanctuary to 1000 shards, with the slaying carnal lust. 

Not all people are like this. Only primative ones deprived of the ability to see what lies beyond their own shallow desires. (In my experience) Mostly depraved men. with no self control and poor boundaries embody the predator, but then again not all men disrespect the goddess as a primitive, predator rapist does; the saddest part is in the depths of your crying and adamant protests of objection, the rapist cannot put aside his salacious carnal desires for a moment to spare you the agony of the repeated violations.  
He knows your ache, and that ache is what satiates the pulsation reverberations of lust that flow through his being. What is fucked up about rape is that fact that he is inherently programmed to behave like this, and lacking the capacity for self awareness he is unable to change. If it wasn’t me he was violating to fulfil his unrelenting urges, than it would be some other girl, probably with a history of sexual violations that makes her vulnerable to emotional exploitations. 

“Oh come on, look how sexy and desirable you are” 

“Those titties are just so succulent and luscious when you bounce on my cock, and that firm, round ass… I am so hard” 

Hell..disconnect. 

And it continues into the darkest hours of dawn.. “Come on baby girl, I just want to make love to you” 

Numb with sleep deprevation somewhere through the harrassment, you give in. 

They use false declarations of love and flattery to persuade you into their lure. 

Manipulation. Incessant.

It is unrelenting. It wears you down. Until its easier to submit than simply resist. There are only a number of times someone can keep pulling your underwear down until you grow sick and tired of it, and sick and tired of fighting before you realise it is easier to submit and get it over with. 

The rapist is not a true man, rather he is a slave to shallow desires. A weak projection of masculinity.

Someone who has to manipulate or coerce a woman for sex is not even a figment of real masculinity. A real man would make the female seduce him with his ability to tune into the goddess frequency and worship her as the divine vessel she is. And in consummation of that, she rewards him exponentially with her femininity.

A rapist is a seed of destruction to the frequency of life. He is a parasite that sucks from the goddess without nourishing her, or respecting her. A real man doesn’t need to rape a woman to feel powerful, for real men are powerful exueding their masculinity in their own right. 

I am an emanation of the eternal goddess, and any violation against my sacred temple is a violation of the lifeforce that permeates us all- to violate anothers personal space might not be right or wrong, in a universe so chaotic and devoid of morality- but to intervene with an others personal temple who has the power to seize and transmute your actions against you- is lethal.

You will be destroyed by the pain I compartmentalized and boxed up targeted with your name, and you will be tormented by the agony you inflicted. 

“I will use your mistakes against you, there is no other choice”

The start of a new chapter; DBT outpatient therapy

 I saw my new psychologist this morning. Somehow I ended up talking about my family issues in depth for the first time ever and this resulted in me bursting out in tears at the end of the session. It was painful. DBT group begins next week and part of it involves doing psychotherapy each week for an hour with a therapist for an entire year. I can’t run anymore, I am weak. I can no longer bury the past because every defence mechanism I exhibited to protect myself has only left me more fragmented and broken in the end. They all failed me and left me bleeding and desperate. I will have to confront all those chilling, gut wrenching, petrifying demons that reside within the depths of my subconscious that I have avoided and hidden from for years. My childhood, the one place that terrifies me the most will be brought back to the surface. I am so scared. This is my one last chance to begin my journey to recovery and bury my past once and for all. This is my chance to live, to be liberated from all the self loathing, self destructive, suicidal behaviour I have come to regard as ‘normal’.  We made a list of things I’d like to accomplish by next year through doing DBT, they are just standard things most people take for granted such as talking on the phone to people, going to university, getting my license, being able to work, moving out, having control of my finances, being independent, getting out of bed every day, being able to communicate effectively with the people around me, pursuing my hobbies and interests without the immense anxiety and shit that seems to come naturally to everyone around me. I would never wish this dehabilitating mental illness upon even my worst enemy. 

Flashbacks on the south coast

 I just awoke from one of the most savage flashbacks to occur yet. My stomach is twisting and turning with the most malicious nausea. I am fighting with every bone in my body not to gag and retch my guts, blood and most sacred secrets all over the place. It began with being situated in the childhood neighborhood where I lived from the ages of 3 until 8. (Oddly enough the abuse occurred from about 3 until I was 7). I was trapped here for the majority of the dream, I saw my cat being tortured by my old neighbors, I entered my childhood home… Oh it has been awhile since I have entered this realm, the realm of the forbidden, the foreboding, the ferocious and the downright frightening. An ancient palace laced with macabre meaning and cryptic clues. In the dream we were at some kind of religious festival. ( which I interpret as being a family gathering), songs were being sung and everyone was high on blissful transcendence. To them I was invisible, yet I was his ultimate conquest. The entire time he kept whispering dirty , snide comments into my ear. My goal was to get away from his sodomizing embrace, yet through all the meddled names and faces he would prevail with his filth laden comments and long, spiny greed fueled fingers. He was dressed in priest attire. “I want to pop your tight little pussy” were the words he regurgitated violently in my ears, he bent me over, pulled down my pants, penetrating me relentlessly, death moving inside of me, burning my innocence alive, I bled my chastity and naivety all over the floor. I didn’t fucking know any better. The next time we were at a family event down at Kiama, he was there, there was a teepee tent set up for the kids. He pursued me inside and forced my mouth upon his manhood until I was gagging, choking and retching. Then it flashed to my youngest brothers christening which took place at my childhood home, I was watching myself from afar through some kind of video I was being forced to perform in. Everything else was clear: i haven’t been able to access the inside of that house since we moved out in 1999, but here it was as vivid and clear as day. I cannot even bring myself to divulge the sickening details that occurred at this point in time, it is honestly too graphic for my mind to process right now. I am shaking senselessly, my heart is palpitating violently. I need to go and shower to cleanse myself of his sly touch lingering on my skin. I need to eliminate the filth he clogged my young mind, body and soul with. It is chasing me, pursuing me relentlessly through the night, and I must stand here and submit to it, alone. My demons are here, screaming my name and beckoning me to confrontation.

Fuck. I am legitimately frightened. I cannot come to terms with this bullshit, fuck this shit.