Jun. 2nd, 2012

sorcyress: A character from a comic about the maintenance workers of the universe, holding a thumbs up and saying "MOOP!" (Zonker MOOP!)
I'm still around, although the world has changed such that I no longer get messages asking where I've gone when I don't update livejournal for three weeks. I'm sad about that --long-form blogging about my life has always been my favourite.

Twice in the past few weeks, I've had people say to me "explain Tumblr". To which the answer is of course "I have used it every day since August and still have no idea." [personal profile] kylecassidy cut in that it's for people without talent to show off art, which is cruel and no more true than the rest of the internet (creating content versus reacting to it is one of my mini-themes right now) but feels so accurate. I like [personal profile] rm's explanation better. Blinky, not thinky.

Tumblr is where I make squeeful noises about Homestuck, and pass along funny images. I follow my friends to keep up with what they're creating, but so few people post anything personal over there. If I want to get the day-to-day life, the domesticity and adventure I so love to hear about... there is no centralized location anymore. I spread myself across IM, e-mail, real life, and the few stalwarts holding out here.

I'm not trying to be curmudgeonly, and part of why I got a tumblr in the first place was that it felt stupid to condemn the form without having ever given it a shot. I'm in no rush to delete my tumblr, but it feels a little sour to me. If I want to know what's going on in people's lives, I have to check Facebook. If I want to know about which Avengers are kissing each other, then Tumblr's got my back. It has a place in my life --I've always been squeeful about the things I love-- but right now I wish it hadn't so subsumed the things I actually care about.

Rather than do one big post with lots of topics, I'm going to break this into several little posts. Go on, complain I'm spamming your friends page. It's not like anyone else is saying anything here. ;)

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
Trigger warning: Rape, rape culture, mental, emotional, sexual abuse. The usual.

There's been another swing in rape/abuse/bullshit seeping into my world. Not directly affecting me, thank gods, but this is the way it always goes. There will be periods of quiet, where I don't think about it so much, and then there will be periods of noise, where I am drowned in the fact that holy shit is society toxic.

Periods in which the dominant message to me becomes "yes Sor, you were raped, you were abused, you can scar all you want, but don't you ever fucking dare forget, because as soon as you do, we'll send another steaming heap of reminder into your lap."

Which is just exhausting. I have done so much work on this, more work than almost anything else in my entire life1, and it astounds me sometimes to know how I was and how I am now. I have grown so much, from the crying little girl who said "I...kinda understand completely if you don't want to date the stupid crazy chick." the first time she ever told someone. I am not stupid, I am not crazy, this happened and it wasn't my fault. I've paid my dues and repaired my self-worth and taken all the fucking wounds and turned them into scars.

Shouldn't that be enough?

But of course it's not. Because this is a closet --you can't look at someone and know they were abused-- and because it's a closet, I am going to have to come out of it over and over and over again. Every time I have sex for the rest of my life I am going to do so with the knowledge that I was raped before, and I could be raped again, and what do I do to prevent that?

(Because even though it wasn't my fault I was raped, it is my job to keep from being raped again. Society is goddamn toxic, have I mentioned? The things I say without even thinking, without questioning, because that's just the way things work, it horrifies me. I am someone who has spent a very long time learning a great many things about the rape culture, and being able to note examples when it comes up. And this is still how I talk, like it could possibly be my fault. This is why I think society is all the fucked up.)

At any rate, I don't have anything more useful to say except a couple of quotes:

***

There's been a recent video game trailer that is All! The! Rape! Culture!, and so an excellent writer over at Critical Damage tries to explain to the typical-gamer-dudebros what's wrong with that. Somewhere near the end he says:

Rape shouldn't be a women's issue, it should be a men's issue because we are the ones that keep fucking doing it and keep perpetuating the culture. It's about time we took responsibility for that ourselves.


Does rape happen to non-women? Absolutely. Is fighting the rape culture something everyone should work on? Yes please. Are men (especially white, hetero, abled men) given the most credibility in this fucked up society and therefore the most able to be taken seriously when they complain?

Yes. And that's wrong and awful but doesn't stop being true just because it's wrong and awful. Standing up against the rape culture and against rape jokes and against "lol 'seduction'" and against the ideas that women are objects and violence is sexy is hard. But I bet it's a lot easier if you're not worried that by doing so, you're opening yourself up to more of the same. I wouldn't know.

***

Glancing in my quotes file, I find this, which came from Yet Another Post On Fetlife Talking About Being Raped2:

"We both drove and have to pay the parking meter. In an act of extreme chivalry, he pushes my hand aside to insist he pay for my parking. Nothing says, “Look here, you cunt, I’m a gentleman,” like forcing $2.50 in meter fees on someone."


I have a lot of complicated feelings on presents and independence and owing someone and being owned, and a lot of those feelings currently are "stop that Sor, people want to be nice to you, let them".

But people shouldn't want more of me than I am willing to give them, and if I want to be a stubborn prideful ass and pay for my own damn parking, respect that please.

***

Here we go. Here is the big one. I found this yesterday while trawling the archives of Captain Awkward, which is a fantastic advice blog. I want these words printed on index cards that I can hand to people when they are attempting to make my life difficult, and I want them printed on the ceiling so I can always remind myself that the important thing is not that I was raped but that I survived.

One of the upsides to abuse (really!) is this: Somebody has already done just about the worst fucking thing ever to me. What the hell do you think you have on that? Awkward social gathering? Emotionally manipulative hissy fit? Motherfucker, I’ve been raped, this is not even a drop in my bucket of fuck you.


Empowerment through anger? I'll take it.

***

And in the same thread, there is a comment that just...breaks my heart with how perfect it is.

Before you tell your abuse secret, you are The Only One Ever to Experience This Horrible Thing. And seriously, that is so awful. It’s having a waking-up-crying nightmare going on in the back of your head all the time. With bonus shushing from other people who just want to sleep, not hear about your nightmare.

And then you tell anyway, when you have your own reason to tell. And SO OFTEN the person you tell says, oh hey, you too? Let me share my abuse story with you!

And if I think about that it makes me cry, because WE WERE BABIES and they hurt us.

But on the other hand, each one of us thought we were all alone, and we so are not. Each one of us said “I have to build my own foundations because nobody will let me stand in their house” and then we look around and find we are in an effing CATHEDRAL that we all built.

That’s awesome. And terrible, but awesome too.


Raise your hand if, long before I kept this fact public and in the light (instead of buried deep and secret where my rapist wanted it), I told you I was raped, abused, molested, whatever.

And you said "me too".

Because it was a lot of you, and welcome to the cathedral. It's not perfect, but it means that none of us are alone.

***

Is it whiny and self-indulgent to be posting about it? Oh absolutely. There's not a specific trigger, there's not a specific call to arms, I've just been having a week where I've been more slapped across the fact than usual that I was abused and that can't ever go away. But at the same time, there's a dirty bitter part of me that thinks if I can't escape it, then there's no reason you lucky fucks who haven't gone through this bullshit ought to be free either.

Rape happens. Abuse happens. A lot. It's horrible, it's terrifying, it's fact. I've been raped, and the way I fight the rape culture is by being this amazing transcendent thing despite the fact. How are you going to fight?

~Sor
MOOP!

1: And that makes me angry, because holy shit, what if I could have devoted the time and passion and rage and wordcount to something other than making myself functional? What if I hadn't ever been broken, goddess, do you know how much I've spent on this? I have never been more angry at my rapist than right now, because forget taking away innocence or trust or self-worth, I can repair those, you took time away from me you evil beast, and how can I ever get that back?

2: An acceptable number of these to have read would be "zero, maybe one in extreme unfortunate circumstances". I have read literally dozens, and I'm not even particularly active on Fetlife --this is just my small circle of friends commenting on stories that sometimes I see and click through to.


Trigger warnings go both ways: Rape, rape culture, mental, emotional, sexual abuse. Thanks for reading folks.

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sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
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