Simple...but not easy

In 2000-2001, I was a switchboard operator in Baltimore, MD. On slow days I worked on organizing the storage room and one day I found some cassette tapes of Les Brown's and Zig Ziglar's. I wasn't familiar with these guys, but I liked what I read on the tape sleeves. They had been there so long that no one who was still working there remembered buying them and my wonderful boss, Pam said I could take them home.

I listened to those tapes in my car during my commutes, many things that I heard were foreign concepts to me at that time but I remember sitting in the parking lot of my apartment complex after a long drive home because I wanted to hear more!

Thanks to SimpleReminders.com for bringing back a wonderful memory! You can check out their Facebook page here.
if you are interested in following me on Facebook as well, I welcome you to the journey!

Letting the words fall out - Part Two

I'm sad and my heart is heavy.  I  saw a rape joke on a FaceBook page that I have followed for years and has never triggered me before; it's been a safe place. It blindsided me and upset me. I replied on the thread where the image was posted  - I addressed the person who posted the image in an attempt to start a dialogue to raise awareness about how painful it is to see other people mock and laugh at my (and every survivors) pain. Almost every man that I have discussed this with (and a few women) believe emphatically that anyone who can't laugh at a rape joke is just "too sensitive".
I knew it was likely that someone would respond that way when I posted what I did. I just really didn't think it would be the guy who ran the page. It's more difficult when it comes from someone  that I thought would actually care that their page triggered me. I tried to offer an alternate perspective (that of a survivor with PTSD) and felt I was very respectful about it. I sent him a direct message after there was no acknowledgement to my comment but he had replied to others and to let him know why I was "unfollowing" him. (These parenthetical , italicized additions are my reactions, but not something I got to share with him since he blocked me from replying after getting out everything HE wanted to say and  I guess not liking my replies) 

The message I sent him:

ME: You often post musings about why someone unfollows you - I will tell why I just clicked the unfollow button (and will be stopping the automatic monthly donation I have been sending) so there is no need to speculate. Your actions: Clicking on like on the rape joke pic and then clicking unlike after I posted my issue with it, and your inaction: failing to address it in any way (pm me and/or remove the image are 2 examples). If you are comfortable having images/"jokes" like that on your page then I am not comfortable being there.

ZD: I've been traveling -- and this is obviously something you are super sensitive about. (Making an excuse and then blaming me for being triggered. Saying someone is "super sensitive" is just another way of saying "It's not that bad" which is one the worst things to say)  I didn't interpret that image to be a "rape joke", nor do I think most naturally would. (So - if most people wouldn't see it that way then I shouldn't have a problem with it either?  This belief is also completely dependent on the company you keep and the people you expose yourself to.  If you exhibit through your words and actions that you condone something then people are more reluctant to share their dissenting opinion, so this speaks volumes about him, IMO) If it isn't a joke about rape, then I guess it could be called an allusion to rape, a trivialization of rape, the objectification of women by literally comparing them to an object to be empties and broken or a misogynistic joke -  none of which are ok by me.)  However, someone sensitive to such things would -- and I can clearly see how it could/is [SIC] interpretted that way. Which is also why I removed my [SIC] life from it.  (He meant "like") However, I have had a number of issues when trying to moderate things from my phone, (Another excuse, still no apology) therefore I chose to wait until I was able to do so from my laptop. Which I've been on for all of about 30 minutes now -- and have been tied up with non facebook related admin stuff. (If he understood PTSD, I think this would have been more of a priority for him to at the very least send me a message or give me a call - he has my phone number because I offered to listen when he was going through a difficult time. I don't have his or I would have been happy to have a telephonic discourse . Even a message saying that he will address it even if he couldn't feasibly do so at the moment would have gone a looooong way.)  So I do apologize  (Oooh - finally an apology?!)  for not dealing with an issue you are obviously sensitive about in a timely fashion or a manner you saw fit. (When an apology includes that many qualifications, it negates any meaning the apology may have intended. Basically - I'm sorry YOU have an issue, but it is YOUR FAULT for being sensitive about it. Blaming me for being too sensitive in the guise of an apology - disgusting - that is not an apology. An apology is " a regretful acknowledgment of an offense or failure. ". 
That doesn't mean I wasn't going to address it. (Back to defensive.)  I appreciate your feedback, however. So thank you. (Every statement of his  preceding this one indicates my feedback counts for absolutely nothing since it is all because I am "super sensitive".

ME: The assumption that most people don't see the description of assaulting a clearly female and clearly resistant ("I couldn't make him stop, I couldn't yell or scream") victim (which only in the last line is discovered not to be human as the prose suggests) as a problem IS a problem and the wording seems very clear that it is implying rape.

ZD: I've refunded your 2 last payments. That's as far back as I can go. (Money is the last thing I wanted out of this emotional transaction, a refund hadn't occurred to me, I just stopped the future donations because I do my best to "put my money where my mouth is".)  And I am aware that is IS a problem. (ALL evidence to the contrary - if you are aware there is a problem then why are you perpetuating it?)   No need to lecture me. (Lecture, Really? Just a minute ago you valued my feedback and now that I have disagreed with your perception of rape culture, I'm lecturing? FFS.)

ME: Being "super sensitive" is a valuable quality depending on your point of view. Starting out with blaming language towards me for being super [SIC] senstive doesn't seem like you are aware 


ZD: I take issue with the fact that you think that it is something I am "OK" with. (That is generally what it means when someone clicks that Facebook "Like" button) And rather than open up a discourse with me to address it,  (I addressed the person who posted the image on a thread YOU posted on a page YOU operate in social media -wouldn't that be considered opening up a discourse? ) you chose to make it personal (Maybe if you went home from what was supposed to be a date with your ass bleeding from being forcibly sodomized you would take people laughing about it a tad personally, too) and disconnect from me as a means to deal with it. (Removing myself from places and situations that trigger me is a HEALTHY thing to do. For you to expect me to stay in a community that posts such harmful material further indicates your lack of empathy and understanding of the situation. ) All you had to do was talk to me. (So you could tell me that I'm being "super sensitive"? Yeah, that was not helpful.)
 ZD: You really took a leap of bad logic there.  (Not according to professionals who are actually familiar PTSD)

"In regard to external triggers, we can take some steps to manage our environment (for example, not going to certain places that we know will trigger us)"

ZD: And gave me not a shred of the benefit of the doubt. (When you clicked "Like" on such an offensive image, didn't click Like on my response to it or acknowledge my issue in any way but took the time to reply to someone else on the thread after my post, you -quite reasonably in my opinion - lost the benefit of the doubt. )  ZD: Again, I apologize that I didn't deal with matters as you saw fit. (For anyone looking to issue a meaningless and insincere apology, that line conveys that message perfectly. )
ZD: Good luck to you. (Again, with everything else that he said in this message prior, this reeks of insincerity.)

When I tried to reply i got the notification that he had blocked me. He has removed the picture although I'm not sure why since he didn't see the problem with it, and didn't think " most naturally would. " 

The entire conversation was so contrary to the public image he presents of himself and what I have seen of him online over the last few years and the inspirational quotes and images he posts. He takes the time to graphically enhance wonderful quotes, many of which I agree with. I have learned, however, that people show you who they are by their ACTIONS not their empty words.  If he had taken his own advice or lived by the content he was posting I think the conversation would have been very different. Maybe he would understand that I was coming from a place very similar to this: 

Or if he had actually been coming from this point of view:

Comfortably Numb...

I ran away once, when I was about 9. I rode my pink bike and  I brought Peanut butter and bread with me. It was early on a Sunday morning  and my father was in town. I left before the sun came up, I remember watching the sun rise as I rode away, with the hopes that I would never have to go back. I rode my bike further than I ever had. I was on major streets and I wasn’t sure what I was doing. A man offering car washes yelled to me it would be “half price for the half pint”. I felt self conscious and even more unsure of what I was going to do. I had nowhere to go and no one to trust. 

Things were getting bigger and scarier so I rode back home, praying the whole way that my parents were still asleep in bed so that I  wouldn’t  get in trouble. I really thought that somehow I could make it on my own, I thought I was strong enough and would know what to do once I left but after realizing that I couldn't even deal with major intersections sufficiently, I hesitated. My hopes of escape drifted away from my heart like fog in a damp breeze. My only hope at that point was to get back before they realized I was gone, so my already tired legs pedaled faster. I tried to come in very quietly and resign myself to things never getting better; the only way I could go on is to close my heart – not just to hope but to everything. Nothing mattered any more and I felt hopeless and that I would never find a way out of this prison.

There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone
And I have become
Comfortably numb.

~Lyrics from Pink Floyd- Comfortably Numb 

My parents were already awake when I got back, and there was not an ounce of the heartwarming welcomes so often portrayed in film and television. They weren't happy to see me and it didn’t matter. I felt numb and dead inside, which made the beating my father gave me irrelevant (until the next day when it still hurt to sit down).  My mother laughed at me and said with a sneer “I knew you’d come back”.

My family of origin told me from a very young age that I was "too sensitive" so I tried to suppress that sensitivity and those feelings. I have since come to learn in therapy that this is a common reaction to my situation:

One of the greatest “aha” moments of my training as a therapist came when I learned about the concept of the assigned “sick one.” In unhealthy family systems, it is often the most sensitive child who takes on this role. This child registers what’s broken in the family, and simply cannot bear that awareness. She or he tries countless ways of calling for help—many of which are convulsive, immature and unhelpful—strengthening the family’s case that the sick one is the problem. Yet in many ways, the sick one is the wise one, even though she or he probably feels broken, weak, or constantly angry. It’s the healthy family that finally becomes brave enough to listen to the painful callings of the “sick one.” When that happens, the family can begin to heal.