Stop judging. Start helping.

Portia’s Voice

I don’t know where to start this story. I don’t know how to pick up the pieces of my life that are strewn all over the place. I want to scream at the top of my lungs but my voice and my basic fundamental natural inclinations as a woman have been torn from me. My body and my mind and my soul are split in a million different ways and I need help.

My name is Portia W. Confidential and I was raped. I was raped on July 4th, 2010. I feel like my independence and inalienable rights as a human being have been ripped from me and I want it back.

The culprit, who literally feels like Satan on my back and fogging up my head and preventing me from speaking out loud deserves to be blackballed from America. I don’t feel like I’m free to be in my own body. I can’t tap into my anger, I can’t tap into sustained happiness and I can barely afford the therapy that is barely helping me remember to breathe. Luckily, however I have the support I know of women out there, that will hopefully sincerely taken this to heart and help me get back on my feet again.

PTSD and rape have at this time left me in a state unable to work for my own gain, and socially, I am left tripping over myself because of the fear that grips at everything I say and do. I feel constantly taken advantage of, and I cannot find enough peace to see love in myself, and any of the people in my life.

The only reason I feel safe enough to share what happened to me is because I met my soulmate, Phoenix V. Confidential(who is an attorney) and he knows a lot about protecting people like me. You see, the rapist made me sign an illegal gag order under duress, and I felt like and still do feel like I’m brainwashed into believing that everything is my fault. I feel so guilty and everyone keeps telling me it’s not my fault but I don’t know how to escape from the chains of it all. Sometimes I stare at myself in the mirror and contemplate killing myself but I know that I could never do anything like that, because the core of me, the heart of me that is desperately trying to get out is an extremely beautiful, loving, and happy girl.

I know this because I graduated at the top of my class in High School. I was the National Art Honors Society President, and I was voted most artistic by my peers. I was extremely involved in youth group, theatre, yearbook design, and most importantly, dancing and being a positive beacon for my friends. I’m also pretty good with computers.

So, world-wide-web woman community, I need to know, do I have a legal case, and do I sick my attorney and his brothers on this psycho so we have one less devil walking around in Sin City?

This entry was posted onWednesday, January 2nd, 2013 at 6:32 am and is filed under Domestic Violence, Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.

1 comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>