Monday, January 10, 2011


National Center for Victims of Crime.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Happy New Year

When the clock struck 12:00AM, on New Years Day, I was not kissed. A gesture so simple to everyone, is so personal and meaningful to me now, that it can't be negotiated with tradition.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Change is good.

My New Year resolution, is to try and make this blog, noticed. Thus the move. If all goes as planned, I will eventually get a unique domain name which will allow for easier access. I am devoting some of my time to making this not only a haven for myself but others, with similar stores, as well. I will begin blogging once a day, no matter the content from this point on. I need this, survivors need this.

Again, if you (the reader) know of any place to advertise this, or can get me in contact with anyone who might be interested in the subject matter, please do so, with my blessing.

Happy new year to us all.

I saw you today.

I saw you today, inside the store. It took only a second for me to recognize your face. Fight of flight kicked in, once again and I ran from the store. You still have control over me. You looked so smug. What you didn't know is how, in that mere second, I thought about how many different ways I would like to kill you, or at least mutilate you in a way that would never allow you to do, what you did to me again.I came home and submerged myself in music, in art, in isolation. I fell asleep. I woke up at 3:30am, and the thoughts were back.

The difference between you and me is, I have a small amounts of

What I can't allow myself to follow through with, time will.

I hope your hourglass is becoming bottom heavy.


In order to stay alive, I have to keep the walls high. With every touch I am reminded of that initial touch, that first tug, when he grabbed me and took me outside, to his car, to where it happened. I do not wish death upon anyone, but I do wish death upon these feelings, it would be nice to feel anything else, just once, again.

I am trying.

I speak but I am never genuine. I rely on humor (mostly sarcasm), in order to keep everyone arms-length. If everything I say sounds like a joke, no one will pick up on my real emotions. I will purposefully make myself clumsy, tripping over imaginary barriers, just so people laugh and do not have time to 'investigate'. If they really knew how I felt, how hopeless, abandoned, shameful..they would not view me in the same light. They would see me as an object in need of sympathy and I can't handle that.

I am but a zombie, numb. When one experiences no emotion other than emptiness, then they have a hard time accomplishing anything. My internship has failed. I am withdrawing on Monday. I can't fnd it in myself to be empathic for others when I can't even be empathic for myself. School feels like punishment. Hours upon hours of psychology and sociology studies, that make me feel incompetent. I am at a cross roads but I don't have the energy to pick a path. Would MapQuest help?


I am feeling trapped. Trapped by memories and false promises.


I had a dream last night.
I was me, but not me.
I was 'the me' that would be if I had never experienced all the things that I have.
I was happy.
I was pure.
I was content.
I was free.
I was naive.

Not a single catch.

I can't say I am surprised but out of around 80 emails I sent out to various organizations, not....a....single....reply. But, I am okay with that it just fuels me to try harder. I am a firm believer that there is a time and place for everything, but without effort we will never see action. I will continue to try and get the word out about my story and the stories of so many like me, in hopes there can one day be an environment for people like me to receive justice and ultimate healing. This issue reaches so many levels not just those of sexual assault, rape, abuse and incest but more so issues of human rights and equality which I feel, in my case was overlooked.

I will continue on, for whomever reads this.

Statewide emails have been sent.

The battle begins today. I sent emails to every listed North Carolina rape and sexual assault organization I could find, so if that is what brings you here, then welcome and enjoy your stay. Tomorrow I take it national. For any survivors who read this, please know I am thinking of you and doing this for you and if you would like to join me, email me anytime. Together we can do this, it's our time.

Reduced to a box.

I knew it was coming, I just didn't know when. Over the past month I have repeatedly expressed my dissatisfaction with The Rape Crisis Center. They fired the third consecutive Men's group leader, it was stated that The United Way cut their yearly funding based on the idea of supporting a same-sex group (be that true or not, it was what was told to us by our supposedly leader) and after almost a year with no contact, it was time to express my opinion which ultimately led to the severing of ties. I received an email that asked for me to take part in the yearly "Jeans for Justice", an event in which artists from around the community give jeans they have designed and/or decorated in some way to fit the theme of sexual assault survival.

This is the first time The Rape Crisis Center had contacted me in almost a year, and my first reaction was, how dare you reduce me to that of an artist, I am a survivor, not someone to profit from and to have around only when it's convenient to you. The Men's group i was a part of never once received any monetary gain, and we were not even allowed a budget for food during our over hour-long sessions, yet our female counterparts were given ipods as "presents"- where is the balance in that? I vented myself in a response to the email and I received a letter in the mail no less than three days later stating that I had been "terminated" from the Rape Crisis Center and that "we had unfinished business" in the form of my "clothing" being sent to me. I say 'clothing' meaning the outfit I wore the night I was assaulted. I was given a time line in which I had to come pick up my outfit or it would be mailed to me it was very official and very cold-hearted. Today at about 12:50pm, FedEx dropped off a plain brown box, containing nothing more or less than that outfit, it sat inside-perfectly folded like a present.

I sit and I think of all the times I requested to go to raleigh to speak out for male survivors, the many times I was invited to speak at events outside of the state, the times I asked for posters or some sort of publication to be made to advertise our group and how each and every request was denied funding. I sit and think of how I was asked to not speak or even attend the Take Back the Night Rally at Lenoir Rhyne College because "my situation is controversial and they are a religious college"...just a few of the examples of how these people in positions of power, that are making a career out of helping others are ultimately doing NOTHING more and hindering them for personal gain. I enjoyed hearing about your vacation S.B. (victim advocate), the thought of you on a tropical adventure while I was sitting at home banging my head against the wall, scrubbing my genitals raw at the thought of what I went through really eased my soul. I have to believe that this was not all fruitless, that someday, somewhere someone who can point out the way to me, will find these and they will be the source I need to cite in this journey I still feel I need to take in my recovery and my redemption. I want nothing more than to make sure the male, the female,the adult,the child that comes after me, as a victim of sexual assault,abuse,incest, rape...never goes through what I have. I want to make their path a yellow brick road, padded, if just slightly, by a trail I have helped make for them.

I click my ruby-red slippers three times...

Over a year ago, I was raped.

It's still something I think about everyday. Usually in the early morning when I get up from hopefully but rarely 8 hours of sleep. It's like the first set of images my brain processes once it's awakened. It's in those few moments I still feel defenseless against him. Luckily I have developed what people with PhDs call “defense mechanisms” or what I call, the ability to lie to myself. One thing I will not do is lie to other people. I hope as I recount my story below, it will give you, the reader some insight on survival and just how lonely it can be.
Honestly, I can say at this point I am by far more upset with the people who were supposed to help me after my assault than even the person who did it to me. While I will never forgive him, I have accepted him. I have not however accepted the hospital staff that left me standing in a room clothed in nothing but an open back gown, for over 3 hours. Did they ever stop to think I didn't want the parts of my body that had been violated to be exposed? Did they ever think to perform a rape kit on me and that just because I am a male, didn't mean there wouldn't be something there, anything there to help me with a case?
I also do not forgive the police department that refused to investigate, and never even visited the scene of the assault, to collect any evidence. Their actions make me regret being smart enough to force myself to vomit and leave various other pieces of “myself” in that dark room, hoping it would provide proof of what had occurred. That happens to be the same police department that told me, via the investigating officer (if you can call him that) that with me being on the antidepressant Prozac, a jury would never believe anything I had to say. They also neglected to ever tell me about the boy my assailant raped and brutally beat before me, that was so scared for his life he left the country, no they never did. The same police station that now after a year has yet to ever call me once, they didn't even call me to let me know my case closed.

I am not satisfied with the support (speaking generously), that I received from my local rape crisis center. From the first day I reached out to the agency, I felt as if I was an outsider, someone they just did not know how to handle and barely put forth the effort to try. Every request I made to speak out, to advocate for myself and male survivors traveled to closed ears, closed minds and closed pockets. I fought hard to try and get funded a trip to NCCASA, the state sexual assault foundation here and I was told quote; “What do you think you will accomplish there, it's just an office”. Whenever It's been requested that I participate in some sort of fund raising event or some sort of publicity opportunity (such as this) I have always given myself to the cause, it's my role as a victim.

My friends abandoned me. People that I used to talk to on a daily basis are now once a month phone calls. Nobody is excited to take the “person that got assault” out. It's as if I have become a social stigma, something people don't want to be associated with in fear it might rub off on them. My family chose not to support me. Instead of offering sympathy and encouragement they offered criticism and blame. The person who attacked me dressed me in black sheep's skin. Without my consent I became the person people whisper about at the dinner table.

Relationship wise I cannot picture myself getting close to anyone, that part of me is now locked up tight in a box of shame. Instead of seeking out the good in people I am inclined to search for the bad. I view ever encounter as an opportunity for someone to manipulate me, abuse me or judge me. Just one of many gifts I was given that night.
In the aftermath, I tried to be a warrior, I even had the word tattooed on my right arm but, I am losing this war. I no longer view my outcome as optimistic, the glass is half full....of doubt. Even so, I will continue to fight for those that came before me and those that will come after me. It's my goal now not to seek justice for myself but for others. Somewhere buried deep in this dark cloud there has to be a silver lining, I keep looking.

less than a month ago I was raped.

Sexual assault is defined as, “physical contact of a sexual nature in the absence of clear, knowing and voluntary consent. In 2004-2005, there were an average annual 200,780 victims of rape, attempted rape or sexual assault. 2,302 of those occurred in North Carolina.” Keeping in mind statistics only reflect reported incidents, it’s safe to say sexual assault is a predominate problem. It is an epidemic that does not discriminate regardless of age, gender, creed or sexual orientation, it affects us all. As a recent victim of sexual assault, I offer my story as a testament to an ongoing war that seems to be missing a vast part of its army, male victims who report.
I encountered my assailant the day before the sexual assault occurred. I was at a nightclub, when an individual approached me and asked to take pictures. I found the request odd, but obliged after having a few close friends join me. Flash forward to the next night, I encounter the assailant again, this time he looked dramatically different in appearance, I found this aspect odd but when the individual offered to buy me two alcoholic beverages, I reluctantly accepted. After consuming the second beverage my memory becomes hazy. I only have what I describe as “flash memories” of what occurred. I was taken away from the club and the actual sexual assault occurred at a different location. The assailant then brought me back to the original location and left me in the parking lot once it was over.
Statistics say only 9% of sexual assault and rape victims are male, I find that hard to believe. I was personally scared to come forward after my assault occurred and I am sure that is a withstanding factor for most victims regardless of their gender. Immediately after my assault I felt violated, ashamed and dirty. As the days progressed I also began to feel attacked on a more personal level. Select members of society made me to feel inadequate, irresponsible and at the deepest level, inhuman. Being male did not exclude me from enduring the accusations of responsibility based on, where I was, what I was wearing and even my use of prescription Prozac was brought up in what I feel an effort to excuse the actions that took place. I also feel that crucial steps were not taken medically and judicially in my case.
When I went to the hospital to report my assault, the only attention I received was a brief interview with a forensic rape analyst and with a police officer. There was no effort to collect DNA, besides blood work, no collection of my clothing or physical evidence my assailant left with me. Hospital staff also neglected to call in a rape advocate, which would have been comforting to me, in such a horrific and confusing time. It is the job of a rape advocate to provide support and advisement in such situations and negligence to provide one caused me and I am sure other victims a tremendous disservice.
Judicially I will only speak of statistics. Every two and a half minutes, somewhere in America, someone is sexually assaulted and only 2% of rapists are convicted and imprisoned. There has to be a reason for such a minuscule conviction rate, and it is just another reason I call out for others to come forward so we can figure out why!
Anyone can become a victim. If it hasn’t happened to you, I assure you it has happened to someone you know. But, if it has happened to you I am making a plea…speak. Male, female, straight, gay, grandparent or child understand that no matter who you are, there is someone out there just like you who is fighting the same war. Understand, it isn’t an easy battle and you will not achieve victory overnight. In addition to an apathetic society, I personally have fought extreme emotions ranging from suicidal to rage. Sadly, I know that I will never find justice in my case, legally but, I will find it in another way. The key to my success will be by turning my negative incident into a positive, no matter how hard that might be. I am beating my assailant by telling my story and I will conquer him by helping even one individual who might hear it. You can also do this for yourself by lifting your head and raising your voice to report your sexual assault. You too can conquer whoever it is that violated or continues to violate your mind, body and soul. The strength inside you might seem unimaginable right now, but trust me, a 24 year old male living in the south reporting a same-sex assault, it is there.
Do not feel discouraged if you are not ready to report, but you owe it to yourself to at least seek the advisement of a rape counselor , someone who is trained to listen and help you, specifically. You can be as anonymous and discrete as you like but, by telling your story you remove a protective band-aid and allow your wounds to heal. In the war on sexual assault the weapon is simple, you already have it. It’s your voice. For me, for you and all of us…speak.
All statistics provided by;
My Personal Email
I am willing and eager to participate in any interviews/events/situations in which I might lend my voice to this cause that needs more attention.