My Damned Dam Has Broken Again

I have held on to so much pain all pain all my life.

I have made myself hard and tough to just walk in a straight line. But, always I wanted to have compassion and feel some kind of grief.

Now, it has arrives inside my body, and I am collapsing.

Yesterday I cried most of the day, today I woke into tears.

But when I get grief, I get so sick. I can hardly move with illness.

However sick I am, I always have more poison in me.

So, see me, see the many other women who have exited the sex trade – see with a clear the damage force into them.

See trauma, don’t turn away – have the compassion to know their pain and frustration, and then you can say you are helping.

Listen without turning away.

Listen to the nightmares that are just memories of what they had to survive. Don’t imagine that their nightmares are surreal.

Know that anything remember in a nightmare may be minor to what porn and prostitution has done to their bodies and minds.

After all, once the woman is turned into an object, her abusers can and will everything to harm.

Just believe what appears to be untrue – for one of the ways that evil bastards in the sex trade get away with sexual torture is by doing things that will seemed impossible when spoken of. Great tactic for silencing survivors.

Just believe the women who have the courage to say in words what the sex did to them.

I view my past I can hardly believe – but as I view the worse, I know through sickness, I know as it keeps showing me over and over-  I know that it happened and it damned true.

I know that gang-rape for me wasn’t nothing like any movie I have seen, or any article I have read.

I know it left with no space to breathe, as every hole was conquered. I know there must great pain, but I blanked that out.

And I know as one gang-rape ended, I had no rest as more men carry on carrying on.

Don’t you see that is evil.

My body lives with the damage of violent anal raping every day, it is background noise for that indignity and pain.

I could scream at those men, but I have no idea where or who they were.

But what gives them the right, to anally rape into small heart attacks, anally raped as I lost consciousness. Making me bleeding for several days after.

I hate them – but it like hating a wall, for they will never give a damned.

If you really care about ending the sex trade, then put the voices of exited prostituted women to the fore.

Give them permission to say in their own words. Let it be raw. Let them show their fury. Let them express the depths of their grief. Let them say it is highly complex, and will fit into narrow stereotyping.

This is and will be scary, for it may force to feel the pain, know the degradation. Yes it is hard to listen to and to read.

But, unless you are a survivor of the sex trade, do not think you know what it is to be prostituted or in porn.

Do not compare other abuses until you have heard the differences.

Do not compare rape, until you hear and know of being raped over and over and over and over, until it does not become rape, but just a way of life.

Do not say it likes s/m, when you may think that harmless fun. See that sexual torture in porn and prostitution is real pain, can put real damage into the body and mind. Hell, women gets cancer, life-time of STDs, operations to repair the damage that bastards have done to their bodies. It is no game.

And bloody do not say you understand, when you never listen to a word that survivors say.

I cannot go on, for my damned dam is hurting me so bad.

One response to “My Damned Dam Has Broken Again

  1. Oh Rebecca. You’re so courageous. To experience what you’ve experienced is to undergo a kind of double trauma-the initial trauma of the experience themselves and then the trauma of having to come to terms with those experiences in a society which is unable to comprehend or acknowledge them. You do a great service to us all writing publicly about your experience of violence and abuse. I’m thinking of you. 😉


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