I AM A SURVIVOR

Labels are one of the most important things in the human language: Carry a Label and accept how that label is viewed by the world.

Lets make the issue clear:

You tell a person: “I am so proud of you for being an abuse Survivor”

Makes the person feel strong

You tell a person: “I am so proud of you for being an abuse Victim”

Make a person feel weak.

I have been in a running battle with people who insist on the use of the label “Victim” when it comes to being abused. Use that label and people will see you in a light as weak and incapable. There is a reason the Child Rapist, the Abuser in Chief, self identifies with that label. It speaks to the people who were abused and says I am one of you… It endears The Rapist and Abuser to the the abused by identifying them as part of their “ Family”. The family of Victims. Those who have never seen the way out of the Label. Victims feel weak. They cannot see that it is a trap. 70 MILLION or More of them.

My knowledge of this subject come from experience: I was born with Autism. I am not a victim of Autism. It is a gift and a curse. It is why I am writing this. I see answers when none seem available. I was sexually abused from infancy. My 1st childhood memory is one of my brother trying to castrate me with a pair of pliers. My second is the same brother pouring a pan of boiling water one me. My mother threw me in the snow and tried to sooth the fire with the only oil in the house; butter. Salt on burns stings like hellfire. I Used to dream these events for 2 decades, until I started dealing with my abuse. I talked to my mother and she confirmed these were real events. I remember a brother telling me “ so you want to get fucked” and the strength of his hands choking me out.. I’m glad I don’t have the rest of that memory.. I remember being bound and locked in small places for being uncooperative. I know there is much locked in my memories and I’m glad as I don’t want to remember it. I do know I still have a reminder after near 70 years and that is I have an Anal fissure that reappears when i get constipated. I am still shitting blood from my abuse.

When I told the shrink I was going to out my family I was told they will hate you for the rest of their lives. They still hate me after near 50 years… deep down they are thankful, but they hate that those memories are still in their conscious memories; not the screaming dreams.. but the memories that will never die. Seventy Years of surviving a life I was never supposed to survive: like the Time the school had me committed and the University of Minnesota was going to give me a Prefrontal Lobotomy.. Like when a gang of leather clad bikers backed me in a corner and were going to castrate me because they thought I was Gay. I saw them in reality… I told the leader that “ The 1st person that touches me dies”. His hair on his neck and arms stood up. He felt his death and told his gang they better back off… he too was a “survivor” .. I can tell you how he was to die. My left hand was going to grab his ponytail and my right hand was going to cup his jaw as I made a snapping motion of his head, breaking his neck. Nothing could have stopped it.. I have found long before that my physicality was a weapon and I knew how to use it. I was a Survivor. I have found what worked for me and I survived many violent events. I learned how to use my command voice and body posture to let them know… I was a threat. It would come in handy as an advocate for the poor and disabled and abused… People in the Bureaucracies learned I trucked no abuse to anyone. I got things done for people who would believe they were beyond help. Some of them Learned that they didn’t have to be victims; they could be survivors… They could use words and knowledge and persistence to win when they had always lost.

The one young lady, I don’t remember her name, I met when I was a Guest Speaker for the 1st class of Social Work 101 at BSU. for years, the Prof had me come in and talk to the 1st class about the reality of social work. I would talk about how working with people didn’t pay, but was rewarding. That the Money was in being an administrator. One of My stock talks was about being on AFDC ( Aid to Families with Dependent Children) and how they would treat you like a victim, until you showed that you had the right to be there, they had no right to treat you like shit. The Young lady stopped me after that class and asked me how I could talk about being abused and being on AFDC. I told her; it was her right and she didn’t have to listen to those who would beat you up like you were a victim. Law gave you the right to be there. The Prof called me about her later and told me thank you. Said the young lady had become a tiger; and would tear into anyone who would demean people on “ Welfare.”… that is something I lived for.. help changing lives. She told me that after I spoke to her 1st class that 1/3 of the students would drop out of social work and she was glad of it. It made me happy… many lives changed.. just by speaking up when there were no others to face the reality.

Now for the message: If we label people as victims; society will treat them accordingly. You are making their lives more difficult. They need to be SURVIVORS; people who life has shit on and have taken the worst and still have the attitude that life can be better; if I only don’t accept the label “ victim” and embrace a new way of thinking… Just as my Autism was a Gift that is a curse; my abuse was a curse that hardened me for life and allowed me to be a SURVIVOR when the professionals gave me a zero Per Cent chance of ever doing anything with my life.

For further understanding try my post: https://substack.com/@ogredragon/p-196613082 YOUshouldHEAR WHATyou areSAYING

IT IS NOT WHAT YOU SAY. IT IS WHAT THEY HEAR!