How Rape Effects Your Whole Life

Today, I admitted something I’d never admitted to anyone before. However, I did to an acupuncturist, who’s a man who has known me since 1996. He told me during the treatment today that my issue appeared more of an esoteric nature, perhaps what may be described as metaphysical. He thought at first I may not agree that my issue was no longer orthopedic. I explained I was in his vein of thinking, I agreed as I stated, “No matter the therapy, a victim of Rape will not get completely past the victimization of such a crime. And at times the rage I feel inside me, I could fill three armies with. No therapy erases that.”

This brings me to the current civil case involving E.Jean Carroll. As I follow the E.Jean Carroll’s civil case against Donald J. Trump I can say I understand her trauma. The gut punch that she has felt when she has had to bring up her sexual assault. Sexual Assault by the way is a prettier name for Rape. The word Rape stares you down. It makes it truly what it is. Rape is probably one of the worst form of any crime someone could commit onto another human.

Yes, Rape scars you forever. There is no getting past it. If sex had been desired, it now is nearly obliterated. Yes, that is the truth with many victims. I’m certain. I’ve known over thirty victims of Rape. You might desire sex, maybe because of hormones. But not always is the libido that high. A victim of Rape may try to force their desire for sex to either feel normal. Or to save their relationship with their spouse. I know I came from that planet.

I am going to tell you that not testifying against your rapist may be an easier way to survive it, temporarily. E.Jean Carroll is taking the hard way, years later. Albeit in a civil case. Which hence has been brought about because now she’s quite aware of the damage done to her by alleged rapist Donald J. Trump. Too, perhaps she no longer wants him to live out his days without some reckoning for a crime he allegedly committed.

There must be a reckoning and I am cheering her on from the front line, the sidelines, and all flanks. This is a fight that we must witness E.Jean Carroll winning. It is because I believe her. It is because I know the process of such a trial. Although the trial I was involved with was a criminal trial. I understand the stress of testifying about being raped. As thirty years ago I did the brave thing and followed through reporting the crime. As well, went through the processes to get my Rapist put away. Then only having to revisit it every time it was announced in the news that he was appealing his conviction. Or was to be paroled early.---Jody-Lynn Reicher

Comments

It Follows Me...

One may wonder what would inspire someone to work hard labor voluntarily. For me it’s the love of many things. It’s the passion that won’t be broken. Because there are so many aspects to such service for me, that it may seem beyond comprehension. I’d compare it to my youthful desire to enter the military as a young child. Then for a multitude of reasons only to follow through thirteen years later at age eighteen entering the Marines. There were things that followed me throughout my life. Sometimes they were questions of how I ever gave up my over decade’s life dream to become a New Jersey State Trooper. My childhood desire to never wed—to never have any serious relationships with another human being. I desired only service in military and law enforcement nearly my whole childhood. Too the extent that even one of my Marine Corps superiors expressed to me last July, “I never thought you’d ever get married. It just wasn’t who you were. You were always a loner.” I replied, “Yeah. I know.

Sledging the Hammer

"You could have a steam trainIf you'd just lay down your tracks..."---Peter Gabriel's 'Sledgehammer' lyrics. This is not the tune that lay in my mind this morning as I reminisced about yesterday's volunteers to help on trail crew. However, as I looked up the proper definition of sledging that song popped up. I say sledging, which is my own take on swinging a hammer that we call a "Double Jack". The Single Jack is six pounds. I know that because our regular crew of five including me and one staff supervisor are handling Harriman State Park Trails, and have to carry about four of those, two shaping hammers, along with a hoist, belay bag with heavy equipment, first aid kit, double Jack, three 18lb rock bars, a lopper, three buckets, three eye to eyes, two burlap straps, two green wrapping straps, two pick Mattox, a roe hoe or two, a bar for either the two ton or one ton hoist, the feathers with pegs for splitting rocks that we drill... s

Death in the Distant Future...

Death in the Distant Future… Or at least that is what its supposed to be. We don’t suppose people should die at a certain age. We will witness suffering; but we know it gets better. So, we’ve been told. Or so, we have hope that it will. There are instances of mass tragedy. Sometimes we call that war—maybe insanity—perhaps terrorism… We have names for it, that type of death. Then there are the terminals. Things we think we can control—once we know the enemy within. Or things we follow, pray for, aim for. We hold hands for it. Or we choose to suffer with the suffering because it matters. And it doesn’t matter how it matters. Then there is some form of Universal Order. A tainted weird line of fate. Perhaps mathematically calculated in everyone’s existence. No matter how great, how menial a life on earth may appear there’s a geometric wave—a pattern. We can involve other mathematical ideologies—Fibonacci, perhaps. And each of our lives are formulas. Formulas appearing misundersto

Writing Reality

Search This Blog