Dear You. (an open letter)

Dear You,

You are a beautiful soul. You have a beautiful heart, with a beautiful mind, and you and your life matter. You are worthy of being treated with the utmost respect, of being loved tenderly, kindly, respectfully. You should not have to rip yourself into pieces to keep any one else whole. You need to put yourself first.

Are you listening? Come closer. Please, come closer. You need to really hear me.

I know how desperate you’re feeling right now. I know how alone you feel, how scared you are, how you’ve convinced yourself that there is no other solution. I know, because I have been there. And so I can tell you that these feelings will pass. You might doubt that. Please, please don’t. I promise I’m telling you nothing but the truth. They will pass and with time you will wonder why you thought they wouldn’t.

You are so strong, my friend. You are made up of many different beautiful parts. You mean so much, to me, and to more people than you know. I need you to believe me, I need you to trust me on this. Because right now you need to lean on me. You aren’t alone in this. I am not going anywhere. Every day, every challenge you face, I am right by your side no matter what, because I am in your heart.

You. Are you listening? Your life is precious. You are worth this precious life you’re living, and so much more. I wish I could take away the pain, but I can’t. I can only promise that you don’t have to fight these demons alone.

I am on your side. Now, later, whenever.

Love,
Kylie Jane

What I would tell her…

I would tell her she will be okay, that as dark as things may be, she finds her own light.

I would tell her that the [every] nightly night terrors turn into nightly nightmares. And then, just nightmares – not every night.

I would tell her that she stops remembering the nightmares after some time. That they get easier.

I would tell her how brave she is, how proud I am of her for finding a way to keep going.

I would tell her she learns to forgive him, and that it’s okay to forgive.

I would tell her not to worry so much, she is stronger than she knows.

I would tell her to give herself more credit. I would tell her not to trivialize the reality of the things she survived.

I would tell her that she learns to cope with the anxiety. I would tell her that she does it without xanax, without drinking.

I would tell her that it’s okay that for awhile, she didn’t know how to cope without the medicine. I would tell her she has no reason to be ashamed.

I would tell her to ignore the people who make her feel less than, who make her feel like she should have seen it coming, who try to make her blame herself.

I would tell her not to spend even 1 second believing any of that bull shit.

I would tell her she learns to let herself feel, again. I would tell her she learns to let herself feel joy and happiness again – that she doesn’t give in to wanting to never let herself feel those things again, because of how much it hurt when she stopped feeling them.

I would tell her she learns how to live with her depression. I would tell her she finally ignores people who try to argue with her about depression. I know she would laugh at me when I tell her this, because she gets so frustrated when it happens.

I would tell her she figures out a way to let go of the anger. The betrayal. The heart break. She lets it all go, and she feels so, so light when she does.

I would tell her not to worry, that she has such special people come into her life, and finally, they don’t leave.

I would tell her to never forget that she is not a victim, but a survivor. And she will survive, damn it.

I would tell her eventually, she will sit on her bed, listening to music, and write a blog about the things she wishes she could tell the person she was.

The person I was. The person who is still who she was, but so much more, too.

Rape Culture in America.

Let me start by saying that Rape Culture is alive and growing, in America. It is no longer a theoretical concept. It is a reality. The definition you’ll find for Rape Culture is “the theoretical concept that rape is a pervasive and normalized due to societal attitudes about gender and sexuality.” The correct definition or Rape Culture is the same – minus the word “theoretical.” Because it is no longer just a theoretical concept. And every day that we don’t acknowledge that it has become a reality, we are making it even more so. [Rape Culture is the concept that rape is a pervasive and normalized due to societal attitudes about gender and sexuality.]  Behaviors commonly associated with rape culture are: ▶ victim blaming/shaming ▶ sexual objectification [of men or women] ▶ trivializing rape, ▶ “date rape vs. rape ⚪forcible rape vs. rape – ⚪date rape vs. legitimate rape”

As a rape survivor, I can say without a doubt that these behaviors are terribly common. When I had gathered the courage to tell some of my friends about what had happened, the questions they asked prove to me now that Rape Culture is real. Some examples of questions I was asked:

• “What were you wearing?”
• “Did you lead him on?”
• “Are you sure you made it clear that you didn’t want to have sex with him?”
• “Did you fight him off?”
• “Were you drunk?” “Did you kiss him?”

And then there were comments like:

• Well, it was iust* date rape, right? You were alone with him.
• If you didn’t want to have sex, maybe you shouldn’t have worn shorts.
• You should have fought him more.

All these questions fit under the “victim blaming” and the “trivializing rape” behaviors. I don’t believe that [my friends] meant any harm by the questions they were asking; it’s hard to know what to ask, and honestly, it’s a common theme. Society constantly blames the victim. The questions that we SHOULD be asking when young women [or men] have the courage to come forward and share their stories should focus on blaming the attacker. I had a few friends who actually DID ask the questions I needed to be asked:

• What the fuck is wrong with that guy – how could he be turned on when you’re crying and begging him to stop?
• How could any [person] not get that No Means No? Seriously, what is wrong with him?

THESE are the questions that we need to ask. It will be one of the first steps in eradicating rape culture in America. Instead of saying things like:

• “She was asking for it.
• ” Was she drunk?”
• “Well she was all over him!”
• “She was dressed like she wanted it.”

We should be saying:

• “She SAID no! No means NO. NO MATTER WHAT.”
• “An outfit doesn’t give permission.”
• “Just because you kiss anands fool around, does not change the meaning of NO!”

We have to stop putting out there that intoxication, outfits, kissing etc. somehow excuse the rape. We HAVE to stop, we HAVE to get rape culture out of this country. No more “Boys will be boys.” No more “But it was only date rape.” Actually, just no more date rape. Or forcible rape. Or legitimate rape. RAPE IS RAPE.

[check out the hash tag #RapeCultureIsWhen]

Meet, Lady Determined. ⭐

Lady Determined(pronoun & adjective):   Kylie Jane. 23 years young. Writer. Avid Reader. Beginning Artist. Aunt. Sister. Daughter. Cousin. Niece. Best friend. Determined. Caring.

I welcome you to my humble abode. I hope to create a wonderful place within this blog – capturing readers with my words, comforting those who will relate to certain topics regarding future posts I have planned. I hope to create posts that you feel you just have to share with your friends, your family, or just whoever.

I want to create a sense of community. I have been diagnosed with depression, social Anxiety Disorder, and general anxiety disorder, along with PTSD. I am a survivor of rape, have had first hand experience with emotional abuse (and also an observer of it, in more than one couple – not only couples but in more than one different family dynamic also – though I will never divulge into specifics, because these are very private things*) a survivor of an isolated incident of domestic violence, an incident in which I came close to losing my life.

But these diagnoses are nothing that I am ashamed of – nor will I let anyone make me feel “less than” for accepting these diagnoses. I have come along way since I was first told each separate one – I no longer hide behind the xanax they insisted I would need forever in order to cope with these issues. It’s true – for awhile, I simply wasn’t able to cope with the anxiety without the medicine.

There were times when I would wake up in a state of sheer panic, so terribly afraid, and I would let the panic attack course through my body and I would shake uncontrollably, crying so hard it felt I would soon no longer be able to breathe. These were the times that I relied on xanax – when I didn’t quite know how to cope; when I hadn’t quite accepted yet the things that had occurred that were causing me to wake up feeling so deeply terrified.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I began to teach myself ways of coping with these anxiety attacks. I would take a small dose of some form of an anti anxiety – sometimes attivan, sometimes .25mg of xanax – and then I would plug my headphones in, turn Machine Gun Kelly up as loud as it would go, wrap heavy blankets around me as a cocoon and slowly let my mind become more powerful than the anxiety*.

Social Anxiety, Depression, General Anxiety Disorder , PTSD – these illnesses are no less real than cancer, pneumonia, or appendicitis. The difference is – they don’t manifest themselves physically. That isn’t to say that there are not physical side effects – but these are all mental illnesses. And sometimes, these illnesses can be even more deadly – because there isn’t an MRI, or a Cat Scan, or blood work that can be done to determine an illness inside your mind.

That doesn’t make these things any less real, or any less scary. In fact, my personal experience has taught me people seem far less inclined to acknowledge mental illness. In that same respect – I know believe that far too often doctors are misdiagnosing people. Because there is a difference between feeling depressed/sad/down – and having depression. A difference between being in a situation which may cause you anxiety – and having anxiety disorder. There is a difference between being shy, and having social anxiety.

I welcome you to come along on my journey of self discovery – to know that whatever you may be facing, you are not facing it alone. I have many goals I would like to achieve when it comes to educating the masses on mental illness – that mental illness is ABSOLUTELY NOT synonymous with “crazy.” And that crazy is more of a description for the mentally disturbed. (For example: serial killers, mothers who kill their children, sociopaths.)

I welcome you to join me while I learn about myself, while I discover what it will take to start a career doing what I love, what I crave – what I feel so passionate and determined* to do and accomplish in my life.

*1- I may, however – describe the feeling and witnessing this type of abuse through a vague first person point of view. It would be specific of the feeling, but of nothing else.

*2 – this is a link to a post I wrote about anxiety in my old blog. I highly recommend reading it.

*3 this is a link to a post from my old blog about what I am determined to do with my life – and whatwho inspired me.