The Audacity Part II

I had to respond to his audacity, i.e. his arrogance or boldness. I just couldn't remain silent like I did the night he raped me. I couldn't let him and everyone else go on thinking that everything was fine between he and I. I couldn't let him rape me again. I couldn't be a victim again. Most importantly, I couldn't be a victim in my own mind. I refused to sit silent letting things go like I did three years ago. So I responded to his audacity by leaving a comment on his page. He didn't like what I had to say, so he erased it. Not only did he erase the comment I left on his page, he also erased the comment he left on mine. My comment to him entailed a message advising him not to contact me because I don't want to talk to a rapist. I guess that didn't make him feel "ok." I am sure what he read scared him. I hope it scared him just as much as he scared me the night he sexually assaulted me. He was a coward then , and he is a coward now. His cowardice caused him to erase his comment and mine because he didn't want people to know his dirty little secret. After all, he can't have his image and reputation tarnished. He can't have his family and friends look at him differently and live with the shame of knowing that he violated someone in such a manner that civilized people in society would shun him and point fingers when he walked by. He can't live with the feeling of discomfort in his mind that people will talk about him whenever they see him, or identify him as a rapist. Everything was "ok" as long as I was quiet. Everything was "ok" as long as I didn't say anything about what he did to me. So to make sure no one discovered he is a rapist, the delete button became the mechanism that too would silence the truth.

But that wasn't enough for me. It wasn't enough that only he knew how I felt. I had to do more. I had to say more. I had to display the same amount of audacity as he did. I too had to be just as arrogant and bold as he. I had to tell someone else. I had to tell someone who could confront him about it. So I told his wife. Why did I tell his wife someone might ask. Because - I have protected him long enough. I have protected his wife long enough. I protected the both of them because I didn't want to hurt her or their two children. What I finally realized was that in the act of protecting them, my silence was eating me up on the inside. It was causing me to have sleepless nights, and unhappy days. It was preventing me from enjoying life because I was too ashamed of being raped. I felt like I did something wrong. I felt like it was my fault, and I have grown tired of that. He needs to recognize his fault in all of this and she needs to know about it. So to place her on notice, a request was made to her on her website to tell her husband not to contact the person he raped on February 13, 2005 at 11:30 pm. I am sure she read the comment because eventually it was deleted off of her page, and the only thing I feel is vindicated. I feel like I have lost weight. I feel like a burden has been lifted off of my shoulders. Maybe now he isn't feeling "ok." Hopefully now he is the one having sleepless nights and unhappy days. He rendered me powerless the night he raped me, but now I feel empowered. I feel like I am in the driver seat now. I feel like I have the upper hand, and there is absolutely nothing that he can do to take that power away from me. How audacious of me, i.e. arrogant and bold.

The Audacity

Imagine my frustration when I checked my page on our high school website and saw a comment posted from the person who raped me. The comment read, "Hi, I'm glad to see that you are ok and doing well." At first I couldn't believe that he sent a message to my page, but what was more disturbing was the fact that he apparently thought it was ok to send me a message. That's a brave motherfucker. He got some big fucking balls!!!!! What would make him think that I am "ok" and "doing well?" Well now lets see.....He certainly doesn't know about the numerous hours I have sat on a sofa talking to a psychiatrist. He doesn't know about the weekly counseling sessions I attend to help me COPE with being raped. He doesn't know about the $500.00 deductible I have to pay yearly just to be able to take anit-depressants at a lower cost to help me focus and not be depressed because of his egregious acts upon me in my own home; and that deductible is just the tip of the iceberg financially. He doesn't know that I have had thoughts and some plans in the past to kill myself because of him. Nor does he know that I no longer feel comfortable in my home, comfortable with sex, or comfortable with myself. BUT HE CAN SEE THAT I AM OK AND DOING WELL!!!!!

I got on google and found out where Katy, Texas is cause I really want to kill him. He need to be damn lucky gas is sky fucking high!!!!!

Some Sense Of Peace

For the past month, I have been logging onto a website that only Kennedy graduates have access to. Its our way of staying in touch with former classmates whom we haven't seen or heard from since graduating high school. Not to mention, its key for us also because after Katrina, our school was damaged badly, so the school system saw fit to not re-open it. Everyday people are joining the site and the one name I didn't want to see, I saw today. The person who changed my life drastically back in 2005 has signed on to the website. He graduated two years ahead of me. The good news is he is currently residing in Texas. That made me feel good. I dreaded the idea of crossing his path someday on the street here in the city. I truly hate this person, and I don't say that often about people. But I hope a hurricane rips through that part of Texas affecting his house only, and I hope that bitch die!!

What Is Ok?

According to Webster's Dictionary, the word "ok" means to approve or authorize. For as long as I can remember, someone has always asked me do I have a favorite food, color, song, etc. I never gave it much thought because I didn't like the ideal of having to choose a favorite anything. Making a choice has always seemed so unfair to me, and it placed a certain level of stress on me even as a child. Still to this day making choices between something or someone is so burdensome. Therefore, I don't choose, and take the attitude that I can live with it or without it. It wasn't until I was maybe 31 years old that a friend of mine made me realize that I categorize everything as "ok." My friend, out of damn near ten years of knowing me, never heard me say I like or dislike something; it was just "ok." That prompted me to realize that I don't have a favorite food, color, song, etc. In my mind, having a favorite anything would be too much like committing to something more than something else. That in and of itself just doesn't sit well with me. Needless to say, my pondering on this realization didn't stop there. The next thing that I realized was everything that I characterized as "ok" really meant that I didn't have much interest in something or I didn't put much thought into something. The next question to myself was why. Why don't I have a significant interest in things? So I decided to pick something that I was interested in other than music. Problem was I couldn't pick anything. To me that was strange. There had to be something I was interested in. Something that was more than just "ok." But there wasn't anything, and for weeks I kept saying the word "ok" to myself. It was a word I just couldn't stop thinking about. Then it finally hit me why that word is so popular in my life. Ever since I was child, I have been told what is "ok" and what isn't "ok." I then realized that I'd never made the decision that something was "ok" or not "ok" because the decision was already made for me. I had no choice in determining what I thought was "ok" or not "ok." Then all of a sudden I began to remember. I remembered what was "ok" and what wasn't "ok."

It's not ok to joke around because she didn't raise a fool.
It's ok to be seen and not heard, but it's not ok to be quiet all of the time because she didn't raise me to be snobbish.
It's ok to speak to people, but it's not ok to be around people because it's better to stay to myself.
It's ok to be nice to people, but it's not ok to consider people as friends.
It's ok when people compliment me, but it's not ok to compliment myself; that would be arrogant.
It's ok for people to recognize my accomplishments, but it's not ok to tell people what my accomplishments are; that would be boastful.
It's ok to visit family members, but it's not ok to spend time with my family because my family doesn't care about me, or like me.
It's ok to use a man only for sex, but it's not ok to have sex before marriage.
It's ok to tell my mother what's making me cry, but it's not ok to cry about it in front of her; she raised me to be stronger than that.
It's ok to curse at people when they hurt me, but it's not ok to cry in front of people when I am hurt; that's a sign of weakness.
It's ok to fight back because it represents strength, but it's not ok to express my anger because it represents defeat.
It's ok to get married, but it's not ok to trust men.
It's ok to get a career first and then a family, but it's not ok to put my career before my family.
It's not ok to be single because people will think I am gay, but it's also not ok to be seen with different men because people will think I am a whore.
It's ok to have male companionship, but it's not ok to express to a man how I feel about him.
It's ok to practice monogamy, but it's not ok to have sex without a condom when I get married.
It's ok to always look perfect in public, but it's not ok to care about what other people think of me.
It's ok to be myself no matter what, but it's not ok to let people get to know who I am.
It's ok if I'm not the best so long as I tried, but it's not ok if I don't succeed because people are waiting to see me fail.
It's ok to be there for people who need help, but it's not ok to depend on anyone to help me.
It's ok to love people, but it's not ok to be in love because I will get used.

I am so confused about so many things that it makes me feel like I am lost. Because of that, I don't think what I think matters considering the way I think really aren't my thoughts.

The New Gig

So far the new unit I am in is ok, but I don't think it will last very long. Nobody in rank appears to know what they are doing, nor do they know how to make it work. The only good part is I am out of the office all day. I will be surprised if the unit survives longer than a month. The more important question is what do I do after the unit fizzles out. I guess I will cross that bridge when I get there.

The Hornets won the first round of the NBA playoffs, and I am happy about that. First people said we wouldn't make it to the playoffs. Then people said we wouldn't make it past the first round in the playoffs. Now people are saying we won't beat the Spurs. To all of the doubters all I have to say is this. It sure feels good to be where we are and prove y'all asses wrong. Even if we don't make it past the Spurs, I will still look forward to next season. The Hornets have set records and have broken records, and all they can do is speak in negative terms. I'll be fan no matter what. All the hater's can kiss our ass.

This weekend is the last weekend for jazzfest. Stevie Wonder is playing tonight. I really want to see Stevie, but I can't stand up for hours in a crowd and in the rain. Sorry Stevie. I guess I will have to play your cd's and be content with that. Yeah I can get in free to any jazzfest day I want, but I prefer to sleep this weekend and stay out of the rain.