The frustrating thing about this is that my soul is acheing to tell everything I can about my life in some way to some one and in anyway I feel like saying it-the details all…I want to do this before I die. And it is different in telling it this way to who ever it may be thats there…than it has been these last two years telling it to one person-each week,my therapist at the veterans hospital.
The stigma of being me-the rape victim-who had spent a great part of my walking life thinking that who ever saw me had some invisable eyeglass that they could see me through and know the details I keep secreted inside…it is helping me to express myself and just do it. Problem is-this computer deal and my lack of understanding it…have been limping along alone on rides I’ve bummed at friends and hitchhiking on the computers at the public library at thirty minute intervals…I have no clue about the thing-really , I hate that its here in my house , only about a month now. I don’t know how to use it and I keep writing and then something disconnects me from my phone line and boots me off ( I’ve learned that word…boot !) and my lack of skill I don’t know for the sake of it how to save stuff…although,I’ve been shown….I cannot seem to copy and paste and do the float around kidzoo-that one is the worst. I write and cry while I’m writing then it goes to heaven and I cry then too because its such work and energy and whooom.
Its strange-it really is. I got this machine to fight a wrong for veterans like me that have been raped and sexually assaulted in thier service to thier country and there is a real problem all along because you don’t just go through those experiences and take a shower and lay down and dream. You tote the shit from it all of your life…every every day. Somewhere along my dragging it behind me I ended up in therapy-that was two years ago just about. And things got reignited in ways I did’nt expect and I was told I should apply for compensation from the Veterans Administration and that interested me coming in the time in my thereapy where I felt in charge-so…I learned that I had to apply in my home county of Levy County Florida to the local service advocate there-not really wanting to tell this man my story…and having to was not an easy thing-already being rejected 36 years before..this was not any better. The man commented that he thought it odd homosexuals would rape each other-saying that during one of my visits to his office. A comment of pure ingnorence but added to his first questions when we first met about if the men who raped me were blacks…they were’nt-and why would some one think that right out? A few months later I had to be there to edit some pages and comments were made again-all offensive….so I had to leave , and have’nt been back because of the bigoted remarks laced with general ignorence told me this man is no more interested in helping me than the officer 36 years ago. I wanted to give up-felt filthy agaian…felt hummiliated and now I am angry that decent people have to be treated in that way when supposedly seeking the help of a professional representing all veterans.
It is my want to try to gain the attention ( of who-I am not too sure . congress is kind of iffy lately having thier own assault issues?) of someone who can help change the way sexually assaulted people are heard-and yes,my goal is geared towards veterans…not than anyone else is any lessor-but to have so many of us scared to come forward and who should come forward…and when we do-if we do-we need to be met by someone with compassion and understanding and education sensitive to the victim…not some klutz who think its ‘queer’when several men take an individual ma and ruin his life by rape.
So-I hate looseing all I write and not knowing what to do.
a males life after rape 