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Welcome to Our Wave.

This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.

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Story
From a survivor
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Surviving Gang Rape impression

Surviving Gang Rape impression
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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    Stuck in the bathroom for 40 years

    Stuck in the bathroom. It is possible to be loved. When I spent ages telling my Mum and Dad that it would be ok to travel to city for a gig , I thought I was grown up and street wise. In reality I was a naive young man - my parents reluctantly agreed as long as we stayed with my friends uncle - this would mean we wouldn’t have to travel back late . The gig was fantastic - we got back to his flat the others went to bed. I stayed up chatting with name - after about half an hour he started asking me if I was a virgin and showing me pornographic magazines . I tried to get away and go to bed - he then attacked me and raped me . I locked myself in the bathroom and waited but he was still agitated - he wanted me to sleep in his bed - I had no idea that a man could do what he did to another male. Two weeks later I went back to stay again after a football match - this time I tried to persuade my parents that I shouldn’t go - but they didn’t want the ticket to go to waste - he attacked and raped me again - I eventually managed to lock myself in the bathroom . I mentally stayed in that bathroom for the next 40 years - never telling - never asking for support - 3 failed marriages - problems with drink - difficulties being a good parent. The first person I told after 40 years was my ex-wife - her response was “I can’t love you - you have violated me by keeping this a secret” - this was crushing and led to a decline to a very dark place. Now with the support of my children, my new partner , a fantastic psychiatrist and a therapist from support organisation - I feel better and believe I can be loved. It is never too late to start to heal .

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  • We all have the ability to be allies and support the survivors in our lives.

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    How am I supposed to live?

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    #23

    I got drugged on a festival and ultimately it ended up with me performing sex with a stranger without me even being conscious. I went to the festival with three of my friends. One was already asleep when a drunk guy came to our tents. He was searching for his friend, he said but then he asked if he could stay with us a bit. He was kinda funny and pretty drunk so we thought as a group that it would be okay to give him some water and let him be with us a bit. After some time my remaining awake friends said they wanted to shower and left me alone. That's the last thing I can remember clearly. The rest is in snippets. I can remember him giving me something to drink and I drank. Then I remember him kissing me. And ultimately I woke up the next morning, naked in his tent. My friends searched for me the whole night and were really pissed, that I went with him, without telling anybody and I felt horrible for making them feel that way, so I kinda forgot that I had no memories of this incident and thought for a year or so that I was just a really bad friend, who walked off with a random drunk guy and made my friends worry. Just after that first year I started dating my SO and told him the story. He looked at me, hugged me tightly and said that this is awful. That's the first time I thought about the incident a bit more and tried to understand what happened. It was a shock for me, that he got angry at my friends because in my book they were the ones that did nothing wrong. The more I thought about though, the more I understood: he gave me some kind of drug, that basically knocked me out and had sex with me. I got raped. And this was even more of a shock. I'm still in my healing process. The memories sometimes still haunt me but way less then they did before. I still feel ashamed sometimes but I'm at a point where I can turn the train of thought around and tell myself that I don't have to be. I really hope that sharing my story will help others in one way or another and I can certainly say that it will help me be more open with my story.

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    From a survivor
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    your body is beautiful. period.

    your body is beautiful. period.
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  • You are wonderful, strong, and worthy. From one survivor to another.

    Story
    From a survivor
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    #652

    I was in my local pub, the landlady told me someone knew to the area was lonely so I asked him to play pool. We hung out a few times after that, one time walking home at the end of the night he took my hand I told him I had a boyfriend. Not long after I was out with my brothers and we met him, after a while they went home and then me and him were walking home, we lived very near each other in a small town so it was normal to walk together. I don't know who suggested walking through the playground which I'd done a million times with other people, but I remember he was kissing me and 3 times I said no and asked him to stop then I froze as I realised I didn't really know him and he could do anything to me, all I could think was let him do whatever he wanted to me as long as I survive and get home to my boyfriend. The next morning I woke up and went to the bathroom, I was bleeding from where he'd raped me anally and bruised where he'd held my arms down. I had love bites on my chest.I don't know how I got home. I started to drink more as I kept bumping into him and he kept asking me to go out with him. When I went to the place of work for work I'd bump into him on the street and need to run home and drink so I could calm down before going back to work. I rang support organisation, I was told not to tell my boyfriend as that would only upset him. 8 years later I went to rehab for alcoholism. It was that or suicide. I did meet up with him once more a few weeks after the assault as I needed to tell him what he'd done was not okay, he didn't care, said he didn't remember. I still feel angry and guilty for not reporting him but he's from another country and left my town many years ago so its not possible, I don't even know his last name. I just hope he hasn't done it to anyone else. I was also afraid that if I reported him that my boyfriend would leave me or that I wouldn't be believed because I was drinking with him. I wish when the landlady asked me to help him that I hadn't and never feel like I can trust my instincts since then.

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    Because we were married…

    I’m sharing here because I hope I can reach out to other women who may have gone through marital rape or may still be going through it and I want you to know you are not alone. For years I felt as if I was asleep as I couldn’t face up to what was happening to me, why I was losing weight and why I so depressed. I minimised everything, even to him. I would try and make him feel better afterwards. Most of the time it was as simple as me saying no to sex and him doing it anyway while I was completely disconnected, and it was so often, I would lie there and wait til he was done most of the time, but each thing built up to him pushing the boundaries further, sometimes when we were out in public, always after I went out with my friends, it was part of the deal. I always told myself he’d be in better form if I just went along with it. He was always so stressed and so angry. And I loved him and sometimes I enjoyed sex with him. It made things very confusing in my head. And I was eating barely anything, which he encouraged, he was constantly buying me exercise equipment and sexy outfits. I kept getting sick, I was tired and low all the time. My family and friends were saying I wasn’t myself. There were 3 incidents that I play over and over in my head that I couldn’t minimise (although I tried). And they led to me telling him our marriage was over. That was a year ago. I thought it might help me to write one of them down and maybe someone will identify with me and it might help them. It was at his best friends wedding and as usual, he wanted us to do something exciting sexually. So we went to the men’s toilets. We were kissing and we started to have sex. I was quite drunk. All of a sudden he turned me around and bent me over the toilet, my hands on the window sill. I started to say no. It came out in what sounded like a little girls voice. I don’t know why I remember that so well. I don’t know why I didn’t shout. He raped me anally in the men’s cubicle and I was crying looking at a dirty window sill and I could hear strange men outside commenting. Afterwards I kept asking why did you do that, I didn’t want that, it hurt me, you were too rough, I said no. But he he didn’t want to talk about it. He left me sitting with one of his male friends that I didn’t know to go outside with his best friend and have cigars. He saw I was in pain and bleeding for days after. I stayed with him for years after that. Other things happened after that too. I ended up feeling like his stress ball, a rag doll, good for nothing else. I was with him since I was 18 years old and we have children together. He was all I knew. He was my husband and I loved him. No one knew what was happening. Everyone thought we were a couple in love. It wasn’t until I told him I couldn’t share a bed with him anymore and I was starting ti have panic attacks that we went to a marriage counsellor and it all came out. I woke up. It was her face. Her reaction. I felt so stupid and embarrassed. And he tried to explain it away to her shouting at her that he was a man. I was sitting there thinking how did I let this happen to me? I always saw myself as quite a strong, intelligent, bubbly person. I’m in my 40s, I should know better. I was looking at the counsellors face and it somehow didn’t feel as if it was happening. I realised I was shaking and she was worried about me and he was shouting at her. I felt so embarrassed and helpless. And stupid in front of another grown woman. I was thinking what if this was someone I loved telling me this happened to them? But still in my head I kept thinking its not really rape because he was my husband, and I loved him and so many times I wanted to have sex with him so how could it be rape. But why did he want to hurt me? I kept thinking this couldn’t be happening to me. Anyway thanks for reading. I hope it helps someone. I feel it helped me to write it down.

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    From a survivor
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    SLIDING SCALE K THERAPY TRAP

    I am a survivor of what I believe to be therapist abuse, emotional manipulation, and grooming behaviors from LCSW, which I experienced while undergoing K Assisted Psychotherapy. I came to the center in my city, full of hope that I would get to access this kind of therapy as a lifelong, low-income person who has experienced immense trauma starting at the age of two. I had heard of the benefits and life-changing experiences that others had experienced with this type of therapy and was hoping for the same. Without access to the sliding scale cost model that the center was offering LGBT+ and BIPOC, I would have never been able to afford a therapy like this. I was hopeful to be able to access this therapy and would check in regularly about my place on the waitlist. FOR THE READER'S INFORMATION: COMMON REACTIONS TO SEXUAL MISCONDUCT BY A THERAPIST If a therapist has engaged in any sexual behavior or contact with you, you may experience some or all of the following feelings or reactions: Intimidated or threatened. Guilt and responsibility—even though it is the therapist’s responsibility to keep sexual behavior out of therapy. Mixed feelings about the therapist—e.g., protectiveness, anger, love, betrayal. Isolation and emptiness. Distrust of others’ feelings or intentions or your feelings. Fearful that no one will believe you. Feeling victimized or violated. Experiencing traumatic symptoms, e.g., anxiety, nightmares, obsessive thoughts, depression, or suicidal or homicidal thoughts. Before Intake, Admin told me I would have a psychological evaluation with a psychiatrist. INTAKE I arrived for my psychological intake, where LCSW accessed me. I was surprised to learn he was not a psychiatrist. I had seen LCSW in the main lobby as he hurried towards the elevator as I was reading the board to find the suite Location was in. I joined LCSW in the elevator, and he asked what floor I was going to. I said,” 4, the same as you, were probably going to the same place”. I made that assumption on how LCSW looked, as I assumed the guy with long died hair probably had something to do with psychedelics. We both ended up at the the center, where he instructed me on how to use the call button and told me to expect the admin to grab me from the waiting room soon. This appointment seemed pretty standard, so he asked me some basic questions and reviewed some basics of KAP therapy. I remember discussing my yoga practice and studies in herbalism, and he asked me what inspired that path. I told him my honest answer was a bit embarrassing as I was 15 and was first introduced to yoga in a small town in State when reading about it in Seventeen magazine and had read an interview with a yogi. I also said that I thought the yogi was attractive, which probably caught my attention. LCSW responded to this by saying. “Likely.” I found his response to be a bit demeaning. He didn’t understand the complexity of being raised in isolation in a place that lacked a diversity of culture and could only connect to the outside world through old magazines that my friends would hand down to me at school. At the end of this appointment. He told me that I would get a list of therapists and that I would get to pick from that list. I later received an email from LCSW: “Great news, I will be your therapist.” This felt uncomfortable to me for a few reasons: the inconsistency in the information I was told about choosing my therapist made me nervous, and I usually avoid working with male/male-bodied therapists due to significant traumas I have experienced from being raped, objectified, and brutally attacked by men. I chose to trust the process and hoped that this might be an opportunity to experience healing and safety with a male-bodied person who would hopefully be safe with me. LCSW told me we had to reschedule the first preparation appointment due to an emergency. As I tried to walk away unbothered by the random emergency, he stopped me and apologized multiple times, and I thought it strange that he would spend so much time apologizing to me if there was an emergency. PREP 1 My preparation appointments with LCSW were bizarre. My first couple of appointments discussed the possibility of therapeutic touch, what therapeutic touch is, and informed consent. I found it odd how much time was spent on these subjects; this was discussed at length during all three preparation appointments. I had done a lot of somatic healing bodywork with a physical therapist, and these conversations were not new to me. Still, I was uncomfortable with the amount of time and number of times this was brought up during preparation. PREP 2 LCSW discussed therapeutic touch again at great length. He claimed to be trained in somatics. LCSW said to me, “ I am your therapist for only a short amount of time, so we can do ANYTHING you want.” LCSW said to me, “ I know I am your therapist, but I want you to have as much power as you want.” LCSW asked me how I felt about therapeutic touch. I let LCSW know I was uncomfortable with touch in any capacity and would prefer to be given physical distance as much as possible. I told LCSW that I, historically, would avoid touch in any capacity throughout my life and gave examples of how I place pillows between myself and my friends when I sit on couches next to them. LCSW asked me if I was comfortable with him suggesting to me that I could touch myself. I felt uncomfortable with how he worded this but didn’t react. For example, he said some patients have tremors uncontrollably and can be instructed to place their hands on their arms. I told him I did not want him to make these suggestions. LCSW asked me what the thought of being touched felt in my body. He asked if this felt squirmy, and I said yes. During my preparation appointments, LCSW acted like he was some kind of drug dealer and made it seem like he would be involved in how many mg of K would be prescribed to me from the pharmacy. He asked me during each session how many milligrams I would want. He said I got to choose up to 600mg per session. I asked if I was prescribed 600mg each session and if I would have to take all of it during the session if I decided not to. He said I could do this. I asked for the max prescription, and he told me I could be prescribed 250mg. This was another example of him offering me a choice (like choosing my therapist) and then taking that choice away. He then asked me again how much I wanted to be prescribed in the following session. I remember this session was in person. I told him I wanted to be prescribed the high end of what is normal, and he said he would go with that. I was made aware that the dosage is prescribed by the prescribing doctor, Prescribing Doctor, and there is a standard dosage that most patients are prescribed with a max dosage of 400mg. LCSW disclosed his gender identity to me and asked me if I had a preference in how he would present himself during our sessions because sometimes he wears dresses and glitter. I asked if he was asking about my comfort with my gender expression. He assured me that was not what he was asking about and, instead, wanted to know if I would be more comfortable with one of his gender expressions over another, and I let him know that I didn’t think it mattered. I found this conversation beyond strange and uncomfortable. I’ve been in therapy since I was 18, and I have never had a therapist behave in the ways I convey with LCSW and found him to be strange, unpredictable, over-sharing, and unsafe. Before my final in-person preparation appointment, LCSW informed me that he had moved his office to a different location in the center because it was larger. PREP 3 LCSW quickly allowed me access from the waiting room on this day. Almost immediately after I pressed the button on the wall, I could hear his footsteps coming down the hallway, and this made me uncomfortable as most therapists or doctors that I have worked with allow for 1-5 minutes to pass before greeting me in the waiting room. I felt LCSW was unusually excited or rushed about my arrival. LCSW had warned me in the previous preparation appointment that he had moved offices because the new office was larger. I was highly uncomfortable with the move when I saw his office. I froze in the doorway. He moved his office to the center's most private and secluded area. The new office seemed smaller. A reclined chair in his old office was available for the KAP therapy, which felt safe. The chair was not in his new office, and my options for where to lay down during my KAP therapy were a couch that I was much too tall for or a mattress on the ground. I felt unsafe laying on a mattress with LCSW in the room, but I thought I had no choice. I had experienced so much seductive and inappropriate behavior with him that discovering I would not have a reclined chair and would be isolated in the building was devastating news to me. The fact that his new office did not have room for the antigravity chair in his old office was an example of how this move was not due to the office being larger than he claimed. I had brought gifts for LCSW for the Winter Solstice. I had gifted him a piece of mushroom art made with layers of paper and a mushroom hairpin that my coworker made. These items were kept on a shelf in his office for all of my following sessions. I wasn’t aware that therapists are not supposed to accept gifts from their clients. LCSW was overly excited about the gifts. During our in-person preparation session, LCSW would ask me questions unrelated to my therapy. Do you like guacamole? Do you enjoy Role-Play Board Games? When I asked why he asked me these questions, he answered, “I’m trying to understand your resources.” After initially reporting him to my doctor, I discovered his dating profile while listing his display name, “Guacamole,” and his interests, “Role-play Board Games.” Now, I wonder if he was spending my sessions with me trying to gauge our compatibility for dating. LCSW would be extremely flirtatious with me. He would have his long hair up in a bun, pull it out slowly, groom it with his fingers, and display it in front of his shoulders, all while batting his eyes at me. Both times he did this, I went into shutdown. I would avoid eye contact, look at the floor, hunch, and move my body in the opposite direction, showing my physical discomfort. I would be talking about something both times he did this, and each time, I lost my words and stopped talking as a part of the shutdown state of my nervous system. This flirting with his hair happened on PREP 3 and KAP 1. One session was a preparation appointment, and the second time was before I was administered K for my KAP session. I asked LCSW if people clench their jaw while on K as I often have a lot of jaw tension and use a nightguard at night. He shared with me that his other clients who are “guarded” usually feel more relaxed on K and that often the jaw relaxes, but he let me know I could bring my guard if I wanted. I remember not liking that LCSW had indirectly called me guarded, but he was not wrong about that assessment. I had learned to be guarded to protect myself from people, especially harmful people like LCSW, who were unpredictable and unregulated. As I think back to this interaction, I wish I had been able to remain guarded around LCSW, which was not possible for me while on a psychedelic. LCSW asked me during an in-person preparation appointment if I had been hypnotized and if it worked. LCSW would use Neurological Language Processing on me to try and seduce me and make me think about sex during two of my sessions, PREP 3 & KAP 1. When he gave directions for taking the K medication, he would speak at a regular pace until he got to the part of the directions that directed me that I could spit or swallow the K. Specifically, the words “spit and swallow” were slowed down to an unusually slow pace, and he would stare into my eyes with intensity when he said those words slowly. He would slow that part of the directions down to a slow pace, all while making intense eye contact that made me highly uncomfortable. He did this during my last preparation appointment and also during my first appointment with the K. During these experiences, with the sexual and seductive nature of the emphasis of these words, while giving me directions, I would go into shutdown. I would look away and disengage with LCSW during these interactions. I was feeling highly unsafe, overwhelmed, confused, and afraid. KAP 1 During my first KAP appointment, LCSW welcomed me from the waiting room, pressed the switch on the wall, and looked around the room as usual. He would typically follow me down the hallway to his office, which made me uncomfortable as I have been stalked coming home at night off the bus countless times. In any capacity, I will avoid having any persons behind me as I feel safer when I can see people and when I have enough physical distance to run or defend myself if I can see signs of aggression in a person. I was surprised that LCSW would walk closely behind a person with PTSD, and I felt he had minimal experience working with people with PTSD and didn’t understand trauma-informed care. Most trauma-informed professionals I work with would check in with me regularly about what I was comfortable with. Before working with LCSW, I’d never had a doctor or staff walk so closely behind me. For example, I have had Doctors ask me if I am more comfortable sitting in a chair that faces the door instead of having the door behind me, and LCSW never checked in with me about any of these things. I was violently attacked for asking a 300lb man to try and be quiet so that I could sleep. I struggled to ask for what I needed to feel safe and comfortable from men after this experience, and I did not feel safe asking LCSW not to walk behind me or continue invading my personal space. While being let into the center, I stood behind him with as much physical distance as possible and waited for him to finish so I could follow him down the hall. He instructed me to walk down the hallway to his office and followed me closely. I entered LCSW’s dark office with the blinds closed. I felt uncomfortable immediately but was trying to manage my fear and stress the best I could as I was so dedicated to healing with K Assisted Psychotherapy and was looking to this therapy as my last hope after having tried everything with a slow, painful progress that had many setbacks as I struggled to avoid people like LCSW in my life who prioritize their desires over my well-being. We were in the center alone during all my appointments except the intake. There were no other therapists or admin. My KAP appointments were scheduled at the end of the day in the winter, so it was often already dark outside. I have since learned that being so isolated and having appointments late in the day are red flags. I was moving and brought in a book from my personal library to give to LCSW. On Book Name. LCSW responded to this by saying, “That’s really sweet.” This book lived on his bookshelf in following appointments. LCSW let me know I could set up my altar items at the end of his table and that he was going to the restroom and would be right back. I would like to mention that LCSW often seemed very different after visiting the bathroom. I suspected he was struggling with drug abuse and addiction, as when he went more than a few hours without a restroom break, he would look awful with sunken eyes with dark circles under them. He would get sweaty and look generally ill, and the only time I have seen anything like this was when I was around a family member who was experiencing opioid addiction. I was recovering from my KAP session when he looked ill to me, so it might have something to do with the medication or lighting. When LCSW returned from the bathroom, he walked right behind me while I was on my knees setting up my altar. I began physically shaking when he walked behind me because I feared him. I was visibly shaking, and LCSW started blowing air forcibly out of his nose multiple times, loudly. He was standing right behind me as I was visibly shaking and without tissue or covering his face. He blew out of his nostrils very forcefully multiple times until I froze. Then, I slowly turned my head in his direction and asked him, “Do you have allergies?” He said, “No, I have_____.” I can’t remember the condition he stated he had, but I remember it included something nasal-related to his nose. After asking this question to him, he immediately stopped with the weird, aggressive nose forceful exhalation. I never saw him do any weird breathing at any other time. I believe he did this to distract me from my body shaking and to gain sympathy from me as a form of emotional manipulation. My body was showing me how unsafe I felt, and I believe that LCSW wanted to distract me or was threatened by this. He then asked me to share the items for my altar with him. LCSW, told me he had to read my blood pressure. I was wearing a thick sweater and tried to pull the sleeve up high enough to be able to wrap the band around my arm. I could not pull the arm up high enough and asked LCSW if he could just put the band over my sweater. He said no and asked if that was okay. I sighed with disappointment and removed my sweater. Underneath my sweater, I wore a crop top/tank top shirt with no bra because I was instructed to dress comfortably. I was not comfortable with being so exposed around LCSW after experiencing so much harmful sexual behavior from him. Still, I was so desperate to receive this K Assisted Psychotherapy treatment that I was trying my best to cope with the harm I was experiencing. LCSW helped to wrap the band for the blood pressure reader around my arm. He did this very slowly. When he went to press the velcro together on the band, he used the tips of his two fingers, pointer & middle finger, and slowly pushed the velcro together with his two fingertips like this. This was taking forever and was very inappropriate and sexually charged. At this point, I got angry with LCSW. I audibly sighed with anger and frustration, and LCSW recognized this. He stopped petting my arm and took a step back. He told me to uncross my legs. He stood on the other side of the room and stared at the wall as the automatic blood pressure reader read my blood pressure. The machine went off with three beeps, and LCSW was still staring at the wall, completely disassociated. LCSW administered the K to me and did the creepy “spit or swallow” thing after this. He then helped me get onto the mattress and tucked me in, touching my body while tucking me in around my arms and legs. I remember having a difficult time relaxing or feeling comfortable during this appointment. I did not want to wear my eyemask or the noise-canceling headphones because I didn’t feel safe with LCSW and wanted to be aware of my surroundings as much as possible. I remember looking down at my body multiple times to make sure he wasn’t touching me. After about an hour into the session, I let LCSW know I had to use the restroom. LCSW helped me and told me we would have to walk slowly to the bathroom as I lacked balance. Someone from one of the other offices was walking behind us. I got into the bathroom and used one of the stalls. I sat there after finishing, not wanting to come out because I was so afraid of being around LCSW. The person who walked behind us to the bathrooms was also in the restroom in one of the other stalls. As she went to leave, she probably noticed that I was sitting in a stall and not doing anything. She asked me if I was okay, and I said yes. As we walked back, I exited the bathroom and noticed that LCSW was holding my hand, which I found very confusing. LCSW helped me back onto the mattress, tucked me into my blankets again, and touched my body on my arms and legs again. LCSW violated my informed consent by holding my hand and touching me while tucking me into my blanket while I was on K. I had clearly stated to LCSW that I did not want him to touch me in any way. I had a little loss of coordination but generally was fine walking on my own, and I did not need LCSW to hold my hand to “help” me. I was in an open and loving state of mind while on the medication, and this experience is when things got confusing for me. I knew I felt Uncomfortable with the unusual attention he was giving me and with the seductive and flirtatious behaviors he exhibited before taking K with him. This was the first time those feelings confused me, and a part of me liked how it felt to have this attention while under a psychedelic. These feelings caused me internal distress. After returning to the room, I tried to relax into my experience. I experienced a body sensation that reminded me of my body sensation when I had an out-of-body experience where you tense up right before leaving your body. I heard LCSW say, “There you go.” This freaked me out and took me out of my experience. I remember fidgeting my body after this. His comment felt like it was sexual to me. LCSW checked his laptop during my first KAP appointment and often texted someone through iMessage. As soon as the music ended, LCSW said my name “Name.” This jolted me out of my relaxed state. He told me he needed to use the restroom, and I asked him to bring me some water. When he returned, I had moved to the couch, and he responded to this move by saying, Woah. We chatted about my experience, as I didn’t feel like talking while on the medication. He then checked in with me and told me it was 515pm. Fifteen minutes later than when our appointment was supposed to end. I had arranged transportation and was shocked by how late our appointment had gone. I scrambled to get my things together to get to my ride in time. LCSW told me that I should plan to have my transportation picked up 15 minutes after our sessions, but this should have been communicated to me beforehand. I have since learned that therapists extending your appointment time past when it is supposed to end is a red flag. INTEGRATION 1 This was my first integration appointment. LCSW asked me how I was doing, and I said, “Fine.” He asked me to use a different adjective, and I told him I was feeling a lot. During this appointment, I went through my backpack, looked for my journal, and pulled out my headphones in their case in front of LCSW. He responded to seeing these headphones with an angry sigh. I shared some of the things I journaled about, and he seemed impressed by what I had written. I shared with LCSW about an oracle deck I had used the night after the first KAP session. I shared a card I pulled the night after my first KAP appointment while asking, “How can LCSW help me.” I read the description of the card I had pulled: “angel’s trumpet.” He got down on his knees and moved towards me with a coffee table in between us. He told me the reading resonated with him. I asked him how so, and he talked about his cornerstone of death work as the card description discussed how this card was related to hospice workers, which LCSW shared with me he had done before his current job. I resonated more with aspects of the reading that mentioned a seductive nature as I felt he had been sexually inappropriate with me, but I did not share that with him. He asked to see the cards' box and got loud and excited about my deck. “THERE’S A MAGIKAL BOTANICAL ORACLE DECK!” I often found LCSW’s energy to be unpredictable. He would, at times, use his therapist's voice and then have these excited or angry outbursts. He asked me if he could take a photo of the deck, and I said that was fine. After this first integration appointment, I felt a lot of shame and anxiety around having the headphones that I perceived LCSW had gotten angry about. He might be mad at me for seeking sliding scale services while having expensive headphones. I got these noise-canceling headphones as a self-care item for myself when I thought I would be undergoing KAP therapy while living with my ex, who would slam doors and move around the house angrily. I got these headphones to help me eliminate that noise and feel a sense of safety for integration. I felt so much anxiety and shame around my perception of LCSW being angry with me that I impulsively made a $500 donation to the center that I requested my employer match. My company later agreed to match my donation. I could not afford this donation, but I wanted to feel like LCSW was not angry with me for using the sliding scale services. the center later refunded my donation after reporting the harm. I requested this reimbursement, which I was grateful for as this was not a donation I was in any financial situation to make, and it was made on credit. I had made sure this donation was made privately and chose not to share my name as a donor with the center as I didn’t want LCSW to mention this to me because I didn’t want to talk about this uncomfortable situation with him. LCSW's phone was going off with a bell sound at the end of the session, and he apologized multiple times for this and said it shouldn’t be going off while he was messing with his phone. INTEGRATION 2 The second K appointment was canceled because LCSW had gotten sick. He had canceled an earlier preparation appointment because he had COVID, and I remember thinking he gets sick a lot. He wanted to keep our integration appointment and schedule it virtually, so we met via Google Meet. In his email coordinating this with me, he stated he would still “love” to have a virtual appointment. I didn’t like his use of the word love. He started the virtual appointment by overly complimenting my hair and telling me it looked good multiple times, making me uncomfortable. I remember I gave a cold and short “thanks.” He told me I had transformer hair and asked if I had recently changed my hair. I told him no, I was just wearing my hair up. I thought to myself that he was weird to make such a big deal about my hair and that I had worn my hair up around him before. In the background of his call was his bed in his bedroom, which I thought was strange and inappropriate. REACHING OUT FOR HELP On the evening a few days following integration 2, I asked my friend and mentor, a Naturopath Doctor, for advice. We scheduled an on-call, and I shared my concerns about this therapist. I wasn’t sure if I should approach LCSW with my fears about his behavior. She was extremely upset about the information I was sharing about my experience. She shared her knowledge about ethics as a provider and told me that this behavior was highly inappropriate and that she was worried about me. I remember her yelling out, “Don’t mess with my girl, fucker.” She asked me if I thought he was a predator. We came up with a plan that I would write out my concerns about LCSW’s behavior and share them with him during my next appointment. I did write this all out in my journal that evening. With Doctor's wisdom, I began to see that while experiencing this inappropriate behavior from LCSW before and during the altered state I was in using K, I had developed an addiction to the dysfunctional emotional state I would enter into when I experienced this abuse. I had been starving myself after my first KAP appointment, feeling high off the inappropriate attention, and having confusing feelings after experiencing the boundary crossing while on a psychedelic. I felt like the experience with LCSW was confusing my feelings surrounding love and solidifying my prior experiences that love is abuse. I was abusing myself, thinking I was loving myself. I wanted to look good, and since the abuse I experienced during my last preparation appointment at the end of Month, I had dropped four pant sizes. I was rapidly losing weight, which was noticed by my other care providers, who mentioned the change in weight to me. Since writing this in my journal and approaching my second KAP appointment, I have become very nervous about approaching LCSW with my concerns. I did not want to have this confrontation with him. I decided the night before that I was not going to read this to him unless there was another boundary crossing or sexually inappropriate interaction. KAP 2 Toward the beginning of my second KAP appointment, I asked LCSW about a stuffed animal bat he had on his bookshelf. He went into a very long-winded description of this bat. While looking at the bat in my opposite direction, he said that the wings were the PRIDE flag and the ears were the polyamorous flag. After sharing the polyamorous flag ears, he looked his right shoulder in my direction. I was staring at the wall across from me. I was worried about his intentions behind basically telling me that he is polyamorous. KAP 2 and integration 3. During these appointments, LCSW was more professional. He left his hair in a bun. He didn’t emphasize “spit or swallow.” He was normal when reading my blood pressure. I was so grateful that he had finally changed his behavior and respected these boundaries. I felt like he finally recognized how these behaviors affected me. I just had to manage my conflicting feelings around a part of me that felt like I had become addicted to this inappropriate attention. I was compassionate towards myself about that as I knew it made sense why I felt this way, that my experience was confusing, and that the psychedelic experience opened me up to feeling loving and caring to the therapist who I was feeling so unsafe with prior. I knew I could get help with this from my regular therapist and planned to discuss this during our next session. LCSW asked if I wanted the eye shade and headphones this time. I said I wanted to try them because hearing the lady in the room who shared a wall with LCSW, who worked with a different organization, and hearing him talk during my session last time was distracting. He said, “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” LCSW was still sick during this appointment and was wearing a mask. I was annoyed that he was coughing during my experience, and I found that distracting even with the headphones. At the end of this session, I gave LCSW a gift of a mullein tincture that I had ethically wildcrafted from the wilderness, extracted, and offered him a chance to try it. He asked me how to take it, and I shared the standard dosage of three dropper fulls three times a day and let him know to discontinue use if he had any side effects and when he no longer has symptoms of illness. Again, at the end of our appointment, we ended 15 minutes late. INTEGRATION 3 During our last session, I asked LCSW if he had tried the mullein tincture. He told me that he had taken it home, was using the standard tincture dosage, and was enjoying it. LCSW asked how it felt to have him respect my boundaries. He asked me this because he chose to be professional during one of our sessions. I told him I wasn’t sure if that was possible, but I was grateful for how he showed up yesterday. I had processed some of the imagery or hallucinations I experienced in KAP 2, including my cat, who had passed OE. I shared with LCSW how I chose OE because she was the only kitten in the litter who seemed to want me to hold her. He responded to this story by saying, “You picked each other.” I found his wording and response odd and worried that he was hoping that I would pick him in response to him picking himself as my therapist and picking me for a patient to be inappropriate with. I shared with LCSW that I was surprised that I did not feel a dissociative effect with K. I shared that I could feel my body more than I ever had before, and I was curious about this because I had spent most of my life dissociated from my body due to trauma. I gave examples of how other drugs would work oppositely for me than the general public. He responded to this by calling me an anomaly. I found this odd as I always thought that these effects were due to me being neurodivergent. For many people with ADHD, coffee can make them sleepy. I was uncomfortable with LCSW making comments like I was unique or one of a kind, and I didn’t think that was a healthy mindset I was seeking for myself. LCSW asked me to share something coming up that I wasn’t sure I felt safe talking about with LCSW. I told LCSW I was uncomfortable talking about this with him because he is a male-bodied person and because we had a weird dynamic. He nodded and said yes, I am a male-bodied person. I worded this like that because LCSW shared with me that he identifies as non-binary, so I did not want to refer to him as a man out of respect. I told LCSW about how I would wake up to my ex-boyfriend on top of me many times and how, eventually, I developed an injury from this repeated trauma that made it so I was unable to have sex without experiencing a lot of pain. LCSW had an angry outburst at this news and told me that I was raped and that it wasn’t consensual, and Name was loud and angry. This made me highly uncomfortable, and I shut down. LCSW asked me for the name of the man who did this to me. I gave him the name, and then I started to defend the person who did this to me because I don’t think LCSW took the time to understand the layers of this trauma, how much I loved the person who did this to me, and what factors were involved (alcohol) that made this person do things they wouldn’t normally do. LCSW started to calm down after this, as his anger triggered me. LCSW said he believed good people do bad things. LCSW asked me what gym I go to during this meeting. After reporting LCSW, I saw one of the therapists that worked for him at my gym, during a queer event, and I felt highly anxious that he was having people watch me. I have been going to this gym for seven years and have never seen this therapist before. At the end of the appointment, I offered LCSW a cottonwood bud oil extract that I had ethically wildcrafted from the wilderness and processed and extracted. I let him know, and it was labeled for external use only. I told him it was nice on this skin but that it should be tested on a small piece of skin first. He was grateful for this gift from me. He did not inform me that accepting patient gifts was inappropriate and did not uphold professional boundaries. I was not aware of these boundaries and ethics around gift-giving until after initially reporting sexual misconduct. I have text evidence about my ride from KAP 2. These texts were oddly missing from my text history, so my friend sent me screenshots of the messages she had on her phone. REACHING OUT FOR HELP & SUPPORT My friend who I first told about that harm I was experiencing followed up with the morning after KAP 2. After my integration appointment, I spoke with a friend at the sauna at my gym who went to school to become an LCSW and shared my experience with her. She told me that he had violated the code of ethics and that I was highly vulnerable. She then shared with me that her psilocybin guide had slept with her during their work together and that she had stopped her treatment with him. She asked me if I thought this was the first time he had done something like this. I had a panic attack in the locker room of my gym after talking to my friend. A week after KAP 2, I then shared my experience with my regular therapist, who also asked if I thought I was the first person he behaved this way with. She also informed that he had clear ethical codes. I had a panic attack during this session. The questions about LCSW being a predator remained in my mind. I knew his behavior as a therapist was inappropriate, and I wondered if the sometimes subtle nature of the experience and strange experience with his directions of “spit and swallow” could be accidental, especially when he repeated these behaviors even after I went into a shutdown state during my first experience with this behavior. I spent most of the night researching this kind of abuse. I am good at hyper-fixating and spending many hours researching a subject, quickly learning everything I can about it. I found many articles about grooming behaviors from therapists and emotional manipulation/therapy abuse that I felt uncomfortable with and how much I relate to them. These articles discuss the alleviation of symptoms of depression for victims due to the addictive nature of this inappropriate attention. I was pissed. I wanted to heal my brain, and I could not allow that to be based on a temporary response to the inappropriate attention I was receiving. I then read about how therapists sometimes adjust their behavior, becoming more professional after the patient shows some attachment or addiction to this behavior. The theory is that the patient will then approach the therapist and make the situation feel like a victim desires to have inappropriate interactions. I could not allow a situation like this when I had been so dedicated to healing for so many years of my life. I was highly agitated after learning more about this kind of abuse. I knew at this point that I was being deeply harmed and abused to an extent I couldn’t be fully aware of without the support of the people I spoke to about it and the knowledge of how this abuse affects victims. I planned to give myself time to process this new information before taking action. A week and one day after KAP 2, I had panic attacks in the waiting room of my doctor's office because I was struggling with the experience I had with LCSW and the knowledge I gained about the abuse I was experiencing. The doctor asked me about my experience with KAP, as I had listed K on my medications. It took me about an hour to tell her about my experience, but eventually, I was able to get it out of me between the tears and panic attacks. I did not want to report this to the doctor. I knew she would have to report him. I knew I would have to stop my therapy, and I did not want to give up this opportunity for KAP therapy. At the time, I also did not want to get LCSW in trouble, and a part of me felt incredibly guilty for telling this doctor about my experience. She was so amazing through this process. She spent about 2 hours with me, supporting me by sharing my experience. I had chosen this doctor for her indication of being trauma-informed; she had been patient, helpful, and understanding. She told me that I didn’t do anything wrong as I expressed my shame about how my feelings were confused once I had used a psychedelic with LCSW. She helped me come up with a safety plan. I knew I was in a very fragile state and thought it would be wise to have someone hold onto my K. She reached out to my doctors with my permission. She was able to get ahold of Prescribing Doctor, the prescribing doctor. On the day of my initial report to my doctor, I spoke to Prescribing Doctor on the phone, who works with Name. Prescribing Doctor is the prescribing doctor and is a part of the leadership team at the center. I was uncomfortable during this phone call with Prescribing Doctor; her tone was delighted and cheery. She told me she was in the middle of the forest in Locationwith joy and excitement. Her cheerful tone seemed highly inappropriate, given the circumstances, as I had just spent the day having panic attacks due to being groomed by her coworker. Later. I met with Prescribing Doctor in person. I asked Prescribing Doctor what was next after I reported the sexual misconduct. I shared with Prescribing Doctor how LCSW would disrespect my boundaries and continue to do so after I shut down in his office. Prescribing Doctor responded to this by saying, “he missed it.” I shrugged my shoulders in response. She reacted to my shrugging my shoulders by getting wide-eyed. Her reaction made me feel crazy and like she did not believe me. Prescribing Doctor then offered me a facilitated dialog with LCSW LCSW and offered that LCSW could bring the items I left in his office to my home, but I did not want that. I confirmed I did not feel comfortable having LCSW come to my house. It was an incredibly inappropriate thing even to suggest. Prescribing Doctor's notes do not include that the offering and idea of a facilitated dialog was her idea as a response to me asking what is next after reporting the sexual misconduct. She ignores my requests for this detail to be added to my record. The notes make it seem like it was my idea, which is not the case. I had no idea what a facilitated dialog even was before her offering it to me. Prescribing Doctor agreed to hold onto my medication and I could have it back whenever I felt ready. She later refused this unless I signed an NDA/release of all claims and when I shared my story more widely I was retaliated against and she claims she did this because I shared my experience of SI. I later was made aware that I wouldn't be able to take my life with K and that it is safe for this reason, and I would likely just take a long nap. I also had not had any thoughts about using K to hurt myself. I was later offered the facilitated dialog again with the Location team as part of a social justice framework. Cofounder and Psychiatrist informed me they could not provide it due to their insurance. That news was devastating, and I drove to a bridge to jump off it the next day but wasn’t brave enough to do so. I felt like the center had no idea how to handle my experience and report and was in a position to respond to it with care, and having something else offered to me by them and then taken away was traumatic. I think I held on to hope that I would get some kind of justice in the way that they had offered it to me, and having it taken away after experiencing something that broke me on a mental, physical, and spiritual level was not something I was in any position to handle. I was told multiple times over the course of reporting sexual misconduct by LCSW that the center and Prescribing Doctor had reported the sexual misconduct I experienced. It was only after some probing that I was made aware that any details regarding my experience had to come from me directly to the board and I felt that them not disclosing this to me without probing was a manipulation tactic to make me believe that the reporting was taken care of. I felt like the center was unwilling to uphold their signing of this document because they did not believe me. They allowed LCSW to continue to work in a leadership position. I have reported LCSW to the LCSW report and am sending this document to the LCSW Social Work Board in State. I have received support from SHINE and joined their peer support group for survivors of psychedelic harm. I am still seeking a regular therapist and am no longer working with my prior regular therapist due to her eating lunch during the last two therapy appointments. I have become hypervigilant for any signs of unprofessionalism from my care team after this sexual misconduct I experienced from LCSW. This experience with LCSW and the leadership team at the center of my city, has devastated my well-being. I came close to jumping off a bridge the day after getting the news about no longer being offered the Facilitated dialog. I have lost my trust in all people and my care team. I stepped away from therapy as I no longer feel safe in these dynamics. I fired all of my doctors and therapists. I started smoking cigarettes to try and help cope with the stress. Most days, I hope to die and don’t wish to continue living. I have angry outbursts where I would act on urges and exhibit behaviors that are abnormal for me. I lost all will to live, and most days, I don’t have the energy to care for myself. I would be amazed if I didn’t end up taking my own life in the next two years. The few people who care for me don’t know how to help me and comment on how hopeless I seem. Some of the people closest to me have stopped answering my calls or texts because they don’t know how to help me, and I have been in crisis for many days since Jan. 26th. I am trying many new psychiatric medications that are not helping me. The center and LCSW entirely abandoned me. I was not allowed to speak to LCSW. I had to wait many weeks between emails from the center. I was denied being matched with another therapist to help me understand the changes I was experiencing after two KAP sessions and experienced such sinister abuse and trauma from LCSW. My regular therapist, tried calling Prescribing Doctor so she could get information on how to support me better, but she has yet to get a callback. I asked the center for LCSW resignation.

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • “I have learned to abound in the joy of the small things...and God, the kindness of people. Strangers, teachers, friends. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, but there is good in the world, and this gives me hope too.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇨🇦

    I will remain annonymous.

    I am ready to share my story. I am 57, a mom, daughter, sister and friend. I am a survivor. It is 51 yrs ago that it happened to me and it is a memory that is as present and vivid in my mind today as it was that Saturday night. My grandma went to Bingo like she always did and I was at home with my grandpa. The hockey game was on because it was Hockey Night in Canada and every Saturday night that’s what everyone watched. Sitting beside him on the sofa, I was eating potato chips when he reached into the bag and pushed it down between my legs. He didn’t look at me when I looked at him and moved away. Instead he moved the bag and started fondling me. I was terrified, crying and saying no, no, no. He just kept on touching me and I didn’t like it, told him to stop and he kept watching the hockey game then asked me if I wanted to go and lay down with him in grandma’s bed. I said no and sat in the kitchen where I could see him, waiting for my grandma to come home. I always slept with her. I said nothing because I did not know what to say? I never went near him again. He was crippled, walked with crutches and never touched me again. I saw him try to touch and grab my cousin when she was dancing around the house in my grandma’s nightgown. She never said anything and laughed about it. I never understood but it made me feel afraid. I knew it was wrong. I hated him. When my younger sister was 9, he tried to touch her and she told our parents. All hell broke loose! My dad was so angry, asked me if he ever touched me and I confessed out of fear! My aunt and uncle stopped my dad from wanting to beat the living shit out of my grandpa because he was a “cripple”. They didn’t want any shame to come to the family, couldn’t send a cripple to jail and what about my grandma? As I heard all of this, I just cried and was ashamed, embarrassed that me and my sister were causing so much trouble. I was now 11 yrs old. Carried that secret with me for all those years and wanted to just die, disappear. You see, my aunt and my uncle, their families knew about my grandpa’s molesting behaviours because he molested their son and daughter before me and my sister. My dad supposedly didn’t know. Do I believe that? Honestly no, he and all of them knew what a pig their father was and did nothing to protect younger grandchildren that came along. My younger sister broke the silence, the cycle and nothing was done other than protect the grandparents and their families from any shame. It wasn’t until I became a parent at 38 that I was able to appreciate and experience true love as a mom, realizing my baby was my heart beating and living outside of my body. No one would ever hurt her as long as I live and breathe. I suddenly felt very different toward my father (deceased) and family. I questioned my step mom and aunt, asking them how could they choose to protect that person who was a repeat offender, a predator whom they called dad and never once did he or anyone in that family ever hold my hand and apologize to me for what happened? No one ever said anything to me, not a word nor an apology or how it impacted my life. I did tell them how I felt and my step mom was very compassionate, understanding and said she was very sorry she couldn’t do anything to help me. She was married to my dad who called the shots. My aunt? She had a lot to say and it wasn’t nice. Her thoughts were that I had parents who could’ve done something and it wasn’t up to her to do it. That’s where she is wrong and this is what I told her: I have a child and I have 2 nieces and a nephew. If anyone in my immediate or extended family ever did anyone of them harm in their actions, words, I would not hold back to protect them and make sure the perpetrator was called out, reported to authorities and held responsible for their action. I told my aunt she was the biggest hypocrite, coward, liar, worthless piece of shit on the face of this earth and that she was not worth the breath I breathe to waste another word. Being a mother, she should be ashamed of herself just as her mother and father, siblings should be. I said what I had to say and it was cathartic. My grandfather died in his sleep, he was found dead on the floor by my grandmother. My father, uncles and aunt saw that with my grandmother. I went to his funeral because I had to. My sister and I did not shed a tear. He deserved what he got and so did my father, aunt and uncles, grandmother. I have never gotten over this and still ask myself, why me? What goes through the head of a grandfather to look at his 6 yr old granddaughter and decide that he wants to touch her body sexually? Want to lay down with his 6 yr old granddaughter and do what? Who lets this behaviour just go unnoticed, when everyone knew about it because it happened to grandchildren before me? All of these people are deceased now, except my aunt who doesn’t speak to me at all after I confronted her about 15 yrs ago. My final words to her, she couldn’t handle and somehow still blamed everyone else and took zero responsibility because my grandfather molested 2 of 3 of her kids (older than me). I made her uncomfortable, I forced her to acknowledge that she was as guilty as her pedophile father because she knew and did absolutely nothing to stop it or make an effort to protect innocent kids in her family, like me. I hope she suffers til the day she dies with that guilt. Somehow I do t think she loses a wink of sleep. Perpetrators, wrong doers don’t. For me, I’m surviving every single day. I lead by example for my daughter, to keep her safe, understand and create clear boundaries with people whether it’s family, friends, co-workers, doesn’t matter who it is. If something is t right go with your gut and tell ME, tell someone you trust, love and never be silent. My voice my daughters voice is powerful. This has affected me my whole life. For that I will always hate my family.

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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    I believe that God has given me a second chance and I'm not going to blow it. I am so happy and have peace in my home. People feel sorry for me because I don't have contact with my family, but what they don't understand is that I have peace. Peace is far more important than family after what I've been through. I have a service dog to protect me from them. She's a pitbull and extremely protective of me. So if they come after me it better be with a gun because that's the only way they're going to get to me. I also have a cat and they're my family now. God has blessed me immensely since leaving the abuse. The Bible says that God will give you double what you've lost due to abuse. I can attest to that. I have a beautiful apartment that is a secured building so you can't get in unless you have a key. I live on the second floor, so they can't get to me by breaking in. My ex-husband and daughter broke into my other home, stole my 2 English Bulldogs, and killed them just to hurt me. I've had to move 5 times because they keep finding me. It doesn't help that if you Google someone's name you can find out where someone lives. Along with teaching the legal system about abuse, the internet also needs to learn how people use it not for good, but for abuse. God has blessed me with a beautiful car, GMC Acadia Denali. If either of them knew that, they would be furious because their goal was to destroy me. God wasn't about to let that happen.

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  • Every step forward, no matter how small, is still a step forwards. Take all the time you need taking those steps.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Dear Name

    I was 15. I smoked marijuana occasionally (as I was in my teen angst phase). I had a boy bestfriend and was also in a relationship, not necessarily a healthy one at all but I was in one. One night I felt depressed due to being stood up for a date to the lake I was supposed to have that day. Normally I smoke when I felt down and I felt overwhelmingly down that night; so I smoked a bit too much accidentally. I eventually started greening out and tripping very badly so I messaged my boy bestfriend to calm me down (my bf at the time had went to sleep early for work and lived a town away). He (my boy bsf) invites himself over unannounced and I had to make my way outside to see him (as I was not going to let him inside as it was so late at night and parents were asleep). We then went to the shed outside my house to sit and talk as he "wanted to calm down my high". Eventually it (my high) got so bad I was swaying backwards (while sitting on the floor) and fell backwards. My boy bsf then got ontop of me (as he was/is incredibly bigger than me) and begin taking advantage of me. My body felt extremely weak due to the marijuana and could not pull myself up at all and soon was not capable of moving due to being held down and completely restricted by the boy. I remembered the agony and pain I felt of "it". It burned like fire in me and I tried to scream for help but no one could hear me (as we were secluded in a shed away from everyone in the middle of the night). He left me. The first thing I did due to feeling absolutely disgusted in my own skin was shower... To this day (almost 3 years later) I remember what I was wearing. A tie dye shirt, black basket ball shorts and a bikini bottom that had straps going to both sides (crossed even) to both of my hips. To this day I get scared of wearing bikini bottoms... to this day I fear summertime because of the agony of remembering it. I had kept the bakini bottoms in my dresser because he had finished in them and I believed that was my only proof of the incident. My mother had mistakenly cleaned them.. she had cleaned all if my clothes in my room while I was away in a mental hospital. I am left math nothing but my words. The 2nd thing I did (after I showered) was tell my bf at the time what happened, bawling in tears, pain and frantically texting everything that happened so I wouldn't forget. He, instead of helping or calming me, claimed me as a cheater and left me.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    He ripped the wings off of butterflies..

    I was about 5/6 the first time it happened. I had no idea what was going on I just knew I felt weird.. deep in my stomach.. that gut wrenching feeling I would get before my parents would line us up for swats. It started with him being a little touchy and "accidently" walking in on me while I was showering/ changing then he got more and more handsy until finally he trapped me in the basement one day. He managed to pin me on the ground and lifted up my dress; before I knew it he had ripped my underwear and was touching me. It felt like an eternity had passed as I laid there motionless and crying, but a few minutes later he kissed my cheek, told me he was going to think about this later and that this was our little secret game as he helped me up; he was turned on with the biggest smile on his face. A few days later I was doing the laundry in the basement, bent over to pick up the clothes and drop them in the washer. He took this as a good opportunity to play "our secret game"; before I could do anything, I was pinned against the washer, he ripped my shorts and underwear down and next thing I knew he was fully inside me this time. I screamed out in pain as he jammed into me repeatedly so he covered my mouth.. I was so scared and confused. I felt the blood dripping down my legs and I was in so much pain I felt like I was going to be sick. Finally, after a few minutes it was over, and he let me go. I bent down to pull my shorts and underwear back up when I saw the blood on my legs. So many thoughts ran through my head, and I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't bring myself to make a sound. He used one of the towels I was about to wash to clean the blood off of himself then tossed it at me for my legs. He raised his hand to wipe the tears from my cheek and I flinched. "What's wrong? You don't like our little game?" I was so sore for a few days; hardly able to sit or walk. I struggled to get the blood stains out of my clothes. It felt like I was dreaming.. that I was going to wake up from this bullcrap nightmare at any moment, but I never did. The soreness I felt after he was done with me went away with time, but I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact this was happening. Is this normal? Do other brother's and sister's do this? This continued for years; he would trap me in any places he could, and it felt like it took longer and longer each time. I decided at the age of 9/10 I had had enough and tried to tell my mother what my brother was doing to me. As bad of a mother as she was I thought she would still protect me when it came down to it, but I was soooo very wrong.. after all he was her favorite. The words she said to me will be forever engraved in my brain, "You can either let this ruin his life or you can move on. This doesn't seem like an issue you should let ruin your brother’s life." From that moment on I felt like it was my fault he was doing this so I kept my mouth shut in fear that no one else would believe me or that people would blame me if they did. He used this to his advantage and would play the game any chance he could even blackmailing me "I won't tell mom if you let me.." or he would take things from me like my homework and withhold them until I "played" and even then he would make me do extra things before he'd give it back. He pinned me down to the dining room table, hand gripping a chunk of my hair tight enough he pulled some out, covered my mouth so I couldn't scream for help and went so hard he bruised my hips.. I couldn't sit/ bend my body for a few days after that. Everywhere in that house was full of reminders that my body wasn't mine. It wasn't just forcing me to have sex either, he would force me to give him blow jobs/ hand jobs and randomly pin me against things and grope me just to prove he could any time he wanted. If my parents weren't home and we were watching something that had a sex scene in it (or if it wasn't on already he would put something on) he would openly touch himself to it in front of me.. it truly was a game for him. I would sit on the shower floor for hours with the water as hot as it would go, scrubbing my skin raw, but I never felt clean enough. No matter what I did or how hard I tried I couldn't wash him off of me.. I became so numb to it because it was happening at least weekly, but sometimes daily that I thought that was all I was good for was my body and what people could do to it. After a while I had opened up to my first girlfriend about it my freshman year of high school and started to feel like maybe I wasn't at fault. I never told anyone the full extent of what he had done and been doing to me because I felt dirty and ashamed for letting it happen to me. Talking about it, even just a little bit gave me some comfort though; no one could truly understand how I felt because they hadn't gone through it themselves, but them just listening and making me feel heard was comforting. Somehow it got out at school and CPS was called again (they had previously been called for physical abuse I endured from my parents; mostly my mother and they didn’t even bother to investigate when she gave me a black eye) along with my mother to the school. I thought it was weird, but made my way down.. when I rounded the corner, I could hear her voice, and I froze in my tracks. There's that feeling again.. Sure enough, when I walked through the front office doors I could see a group of people in the conference room; my principle, my counselor, the school phycologist I had been seeing for "sessions" like a therapist (although I never told her about this because she told my mother EVERYTHING) two CPS workers and my mother. As my gaze met with my mother’s I began to feel like my stomach was going to fall out of my butt at any moment and she just stared at me with those soulless eyes she always looked at me with. Of course, she remembered we were at the school, plastered on a big smile on and greeted me like I was her precious baby who she missed so much. "Do you know why we've called you down here?" I just sat there silently with tears rolling down my cheeks while the adults talked like I wasn't there. When it finally came out "what exactly did you say your brother has been doing to you?" all I could do was look at my mother, crying and saying, "I didn't say anything I promise!" I never said the rumors weren't true or that he never did anything I only ever said "I didn't say anything" and yet no one noticed they just saw a child crying hysterically, listened to my mother and blew it off that I was being dramatic and looking for attention. Somehow my father never found out about any of this and there was no further investigation, no examinations and no reports.. this was the SECOND time CPS failed me. He continued to do this to me until I got kicked out at 18 (or as my mother likes to say that I ran away) because instead of going back when she told me I could I stayed out. The first time I chose to have sex at the age of 16 I not only did it with someone I didn't love, but I had to get high to do it. When I got home, I sat on the floor of the shower, with it as hot as it would go and just sobbed while the water ran over my back. I thought it would be different if I wanted to do it, that I would like it, and it would make me feel better, but I hated it and mentally I couldn’t take it. I was self-harming in more ways than one and made several attempts on my life.. but any time I was with someone, or someone flirted with me I threw my body at them because I thought that's all I was good for and all anyone truly wanted. I was high most of the time, especially when I had sex, and I really didn’t care what happened to me anymore. Then I met my husband when I was 18.. the wonderful man that he is; we’ve been together 15 years, married for going on two and he’s healing something he didn’t break and makes me feel safe. There's a fire that burns within me that is fueled by so much anger.. I will forever be changed by what my brother did to me and for the lack of protection from someone who should have protected me, but chose to protect my abuser instead. I’ve spent years battling my own mind trying to stay here in spite of them; I still struggle with my self- harming in pretty much all the ways I used to along with other attempts on my life and constantly wanting to end it/ feeling like my boys deserve better than me. This is the first time I've ever fully told anyone about what he did.. not even my husband knows the full story because I didn't want to burden him with the weight of my pain. This pain has been weighing on my soul all my life and I just can't take it anymore; I'm drowning in it. I've blamed myself for so long and I feel so alone.. I feel like I'm damaged goods, like I'm broken. So, I've come here as a 30 something year old, with the encouragement and support of my therapist and my amazing husband to tell my story.. grammatical/ spelling errors and all. I wish to break the generational trauma for my son, so he never has to heal from his childhood and to heal from what’s left me broken; My boys deserve the best version of me. Even though it will probably never be seen by anyone but me, this is me taking back my power from him.. weather it ruins his life or not because he deserves to lay in the bed he made. I may never get justice for his actions and I'm not even really sure what that would look like for me, but I'm a survivor none the less. Thankfully I'm learning day by day that what he did to me wasn't my fault it was his (partly my mother’s for letting it continue) and that I deserved so much better. I didn't deserve any of this. I deserved a mother that believed me, loved me and protected me when I needed it. I deserve to heal, be loved and feel happiness. Most of all I deserved to be able to keep my innocence..

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  • “You are the author of your own story. Your story is yours and yours alone despite your experiences.”

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    Name

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  • Story
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    is it cocsa?

    okay so i’m not sure if im overthinking things but i kinda just figured what cocsa is and it made me think back when i was younger. so when i was 8 or 9, there was this group of girls (all around my age as well) and they would kinda do weird things. the first time i saw them, it was my friends kissing in secret and i didn’t realize it was in a sexual way and i thought it was just friends being loving to each other. they saw me and they told me to be quiet and that i couldn’t tell anyone. i found it odd but i just went with it. anyway then they kinda “invited” me into the group and i found out it was about 5-6 other girls. these girls would all like kiss each other and touch each other but i never realized in what way and they would tell me that if i told anyone, they wouldn’t be my friend anymore so i didn’t. one time one of the girls pulled me in the bathroom and wanted to try something and told me to stay quiet so we wouldn’t get caught and she basically just made out with me and kinda touched me down there a little. another time one of these girls was my close friend and just us two had a sleepover and she was like “hey i wanna try something” so she laid me down on my back, crawled on top of me, and rubbed our “lady parts” together. i thought it was weird but she just kept telling me to not tell anyone so i never did. fast forward to now, im just now realizing how bad that was and that it wasn’t normal but im not sure if i should even hold them accountable considering they were also my age and might’ve just been repeating things they saw. so like i’m not sure if that should be considered cocsa

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  • We believe in you. You are strong.

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    it happened to me

    I would do anything for it not to be real, but it is. And I’m starting to think it’s more common than any of us want to admit. But it’s time to be brave and acknowledge these hard truths no matter how much it hurts. Because we deserve healing and even more than that, we deserve a world that sees and acknowledges these horrors for what they are. The nature of the trauma that comes with living through something so disgusting is that your brain tends to block a lot out as a way to protect you. That’s how shattering of an event CSA is. I can’t remember how exactly young but it was YOUNG—- so young that everyone refused to believe me even though all of the signs were there. I’m talking 5 or 6 years old, and so that would have made my younger brother, the perpetrator, as little as 4 years old. Was it because he was younger that my dad just ignored it when he’d see my brother pinning me down in the yard and rubbing himself on me? We were all there to witness it but I’m the only one bearing the scars. What do you think happens when a little kid can see he can get away with something? Of course it escalated. And no one did anything when they found my bloody underwear even though it would be 7 more years before I saw my first period. My mother yelled at me when she saw them….Why? I didn’t make them that way, why am I in trouble and not your son who I keep telling you is hurting me when he lays on me? But according to her it had to have been something else, a medical condition or anomaly, certainly not what her own son was doing. Poor thing had to think about something that made her uncomfortable, meanwhile I had to continue to live with and be groped by and molested and penetrated by that “uncomfortable” for the next decade. Yes, kids can most certainly abuse other kids even at ages that seem horrifically young to you. If it’s horrible for you to realize, imagine how horrible it is to have happen to you. And no, I don’t talk to that “father”, or that “brother”, and certainly not the “mother” who insisted she’s actually the biggest victim in this horror story by having to think about any of it in the first place. If only she cared what her own daughter, and all of us other survivors, must think about. Tell your story as many times as you have to, and don’t entertain folks who do anything but give you the unrelenting, undying support you deserve. I mean that. If you read this and take anything away from it, please take that.

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  • “Healing to me means that all these things that happened don’t have to define me.”

    Message of Hope
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    It is not your fault!

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  • Story
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    The Night I Was Betrayed

    Hello there. My name is Survivor. I’m 25 and live in California. Before I was get started, on my story, I want to add that I’m a disabled adult with minor Cerebral Palsy. It was October 2014 and I was in my second month of being 18. This was before I came out as Transgender. One night, my mom left for work. After that, her boyfriend and I decided to watch a program on tv. It was, I believe, “South Park.” All of a sudden, I felt a warm sensation inside my underwear and began feeling “wet” down there. I knew what was happening but hid my “moans” in silence so I wouldn’t let him notice that I was, if you can say, “aroused,” I guess. I felt very embarrassed and immediately knew it was wrong. Forward to two months later, the beginning of 2015, and I opened up to my school’s counselor about what happened. A police report was filed but the case never took off since that monster lied about what happened. My family never believed me and painted me out to be a liar.. That monster molested me a second time in March and I had to open up all over again. Seven months later, I was hospitalized for suicidal thoughts. Two years later, I attempted suicide by overdosing on my anti-depressants. I’ve learned that living well is best revenge but to not take what’s happened as a fault. What ever it is that you’re going through, you will be able to get through it since I wholeheartedly believe in you. Stay strong because you’re worth it.

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  • Message of Healing
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    Healing to me is not hiding away what happened to me.

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  • “We believe you. Your stories matter.”

    Story
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    The Creaking Floorboards

    The floorboards creaked, a sound that always preceded the dread. Small hands, clenched into fists beneath thin sheets, trembled. Sleep, a distant comfort, was shattered by the knowledge of what would soon come. A tiny figure, curled tight, lay rigid, every muscle anticipating the violation. No sound escaped the room, save for the shallow, rapid breaths of a soul trapped in a silent prison. Words were useless, a dangerous luxury denied. Only the tremor in the body, the frantic beating of a heart too young to know such fear, spoke of the torment within. The darkness held no comfort, only the looming shadow of the one who brought terror. Alone, utterly alone, the small form wept, tears tracing silent paths down pale cheeks, lost in the vast, indifferent night. Each sob was a whispered plea, a cry swallowed by the suffocating silence. Years crawled by, marked by the invisible scars that etched themselves deeper than any blade. The body grew, but the spirit remained fractured, a shattered mirror reflecting a distorted image of self. How does one mend a broken soul, a spirit ravaged by unseen wounds? The world outside was a confusing maze, a place where emotions surged and crashed like a violent sea. The familiar patterns of fear and anger surfaced without warning, outbursts that left the grown figure bewildered and ashamed. A desperate, unspoken question hung in the air: Does anyone see me? Does anyone care? The weight of the past pressed down, a suffocating blanket of pain and doubt. A silent scream echoed in the empty spaces of the mind, a desperate, anguished plea. "Please," it whispered, a broken prayer to a silent sky, "help me."

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  • Welcome to Our Wave.

    This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.

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    Story
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    Stuck in the bathroom for 40 years

    Stuck in the bathroom. It is possible to be loved. When I spent ages telling my Mum and Dad that it would be ok to travel to city for a gig , I thought I was grown up and street wise. In reality I was a naive young man - my parents reluctantly agreed as long as we stayed with my friends uncle - this would mean we wouldn’t have to travel back late . The gig was fantastic - we got back to his flat the others went to bed. I stayed up chatting with name - after about half an hour he started asking me if I was a virgin and showing me pornographic magazines . I tried to get away and go to bed - he then attacked me and raped me . I locked myself in the bathroom and waited but he was still agitated - he wanted me to sleep in his bed - I had no idea that a man could do what he did to another male. Two weeks later I went back to stay again after a football match - this time I tried to persuade my parents that I shouldn’t go - but they didn’t want the ticket to go to waste - he attacked and raped me again - I eventually managed to lock myself in the bathroom . I mentally stayed in that bathroom for the next 40 years - never telling - never asking for support - 3 failed marriages - problems with drink - difficulties being a good parent. The first person I told after 40 years was my ex-wife - her response was “I can’t love you - you have violated me by keeping this a secret” - this was crushing and led to a decline to a very dark place. Now with the support of my children, my new partner , a fantastic psychiatrist and a therapist from support organisation - I feel better and believe I can be loved. It is never too late to start to heal .

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  • Story
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    #23

    I got drugged on a festival and ultimately it ended up with me performing sex with a stranger without me even being conscious. I went to the festival with three of my friends. One was already asleep when a drunk guy came to our tents. He was searching for his friend, he said but then he asked if he could stay with us a bit. He was kinda funny and pretty drunk so we thought as a group that it would be okay to give him some water and let him be with us a bit. After some time my remaining awake friends said they wanted to shower and left me alone. That's the last thing I can remember clearly. The rest is in snippets. I can remember him giving me something to drink and I drank. Then I remember him kissing me. And ultimately I woke up the next morning, naked in his tent. My friends searched for me the whole night and were really pissed, that I went with him, without telling anybody and I felt horrible for making them feel that way, so I kinda forgot that I had no memories of this incident and thought for a year or so that I was just a really bad friend, who walked off with a random drunk guy and made my friends worry. Just after that first year I started dating my SO and told him the story. He looked at me, hugged me tightly and said that this is awful. That's the first time I thought about the incident a bit more and tried to understand what happened. It was a shock for me, that he got angry at my friends because in my book they were the ones that did nothing wrong. The more I thought about though, the more I understood: he gave me some kind of drug, that basically knocked me out and had sex with me. I got raped. And this was even more of a shock. I'm still in my healing process. The memories sometimes still haunt me but way less then they did before. I still feel ashamed sometimes but I'm at a point where I can turn the train of thought around and tell myself that I don't have to be. I really hope that sharing my story will help others in one way or another and I can certainly say that it will help me be more open with my story.

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  • Story
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    SLIDING SCALE K THERAPY TRAP

    I am a survivor of what I believe to be therapist abuse, emotional manipulation, and grooming behaviors from LCSW, which I experienced while undergoing K Assisted Psychotherapy. I came to the center in my city, full of hope that I would get to access this kind of therapy as a lifelong, low-income person who has experienced immense trauma starting at the age of two. I had heard of the benefits and life-changing experiences that others had experienced with this type of therapy and was hoping for the same. Without access to the sliding scale cost model that the center was offering LGBT+ and BIPOC, I would have never been able to afford a therapy like this. I was hopeful to be able to access this therapy and would check in regularly about my place on the waitlist. FOR THE READER'S INFORMATION: COMMON REACTIONS TO SEXUAL MISCONDUCT BY A THERAPIST If a therapist has engaged in any sexual behavior or contact with you, you may experience some or all of the following feelings or reactions: Intimidated or threatened. Guilt and responsibility—even though it is the therapist’s responsibility to keep sexual behavior out of therapy. Mixed feelings about the therapist—e.g., protectiveness, anger, love, betrayal. Isolation and emptiness. Distrust of others’ feelings or intentions or your feelings. Fearful that no one will believe you. Feeling victimized or violated. Experiencing traumatic symptoms, e.g., anxiety, nightmares, obsessive thoughts, depression, or suicidal or homicidal thoughts. Before Intake, Admin told me I would have a psychological evaluation with a psychiatrist. INTAKE I arrived for my psychological intake, where LCSW accessed me. I was surprised to learn he was not a psychiatrist. I had seen LCSW in the main lobby as he hurried towards the elevator as I was reading the board to find the suite Location was in. I joined LCSW in the elevator, and he asked what floor I was going to. I said,” 4, the same as you, were probably going to the same place”. I made that assumption on how LCSW looked, as I assumed the guy with long died hair probably had something to do with psychedelics. We both ended up at the the center, where he instructed me on how to use the call button and told me to expect the admin to grab me from the waiting room soon. This appointment seemed pretty standard, so he asked me some basic questions and reviewed some basics of KAP therapy. I remember discussing my yoga practice and studies in herbalism, and he asked me what inspired that path. I told him my honest answer was a bit embarrassing as I was 15 and was first introduced to yoga in a small town in State when reading about it in Seventeen magazine and had read an interview with a yogi. I also said that I thought the yogi was attractive, which probably caught my attention. LCSW responded to this by saying. “Likely.” I found his response to be a bit demeaning. He didn’t understand the complexity of being raised in isolation in a place that lacked a diversity of culture and could only connect to the outside world through old magazines that my friends would hand down to me at school. At the end of this appointment. He told me that I would get a list of therapists and that I would get to pick from that list. I later received an email from LCSW: “Great news, I will be your therapist.” This felt uncomfortable to me for a few reasons: the inconsistency in the information I was told about choosing my therapist made me nervous, and I usually avoid working with male/male-bodied therapists due to significant traumas I have experienced from being raped, objectified, and brutally attacked by men. I chose to trust the process and hoped that this might be an opportunity to experience healing and safety with a male-bodied person who would hopefully be safe with me. LCSW told me we had to reschedule the first preparation appointment due to an emergency. As I tried to walk away unbothered by the random emergency, he stopped me and apologized multiple times, and I thought it strange that he would spend so much time apologizing to me if there was an emergency. PREP 1 My preparation appointments with LCSW were bizarre. My first couple of appointments discussed the possibility of therapeutic touch, what therapeutic touch is, and informed consent. I found it odd how much time was spent on these subjects; this was discussed at length during all three preparation appointments. I had done a lot of somatic healing bodywork with a physical therapist, and these conversations were not new to me. Still, I was uncomfortable with the amount of time and number of times this was brought up during preparation. PREP 2 LCSW discussed therapeutic touch again at great length. He claimed to be trained in somatics. LCSW said to me, “ I am your therapist for only a short amount of time, so we can do ANYTHING you want.” LCSW said to me, “ I know I am your therapist, but I want you to have as much power as you want.” LCSW asked me how I felt about therapeutic touch. I let LCSW know I was uncomfortable with touch in any capacity and would prefer to be given physical distance as much as possible. I told LCSW that I, historically, would avoid touch in any capacity throughout my life and gave examples of how I place pillows between myself and my friends when I sit on couches next to them. LCSW asked me if I was comfortable with him suggesting to me that I could touch myself. I felt uncomfortable with how he worded this but didn’t react. For example, he said some patients have tremors uncontrollably and can be instructed to place their hands on their arms. I told him I did not want him to make these suggestions. LCSW asked me what the thought of being touched felt in my body. He asked if this felt squirmy, and I said yes. During my preparation appointments, LCSW acted like he was some kind of drug dealer and made it seem like he would be involved in how many mg of K would be prescribed to me from the pharmacy. He asked me during each session how many milligrams I would want. He said I got to choose up to 600mg per session. I asked if I was prescribed 600mg each session and if I would have to take all of it during the session if I decided not to. He said I could do this. I asked for the max prescription, and he told me I could be prescribed 250mg. This was another example of him offering me a choice (like choosing my therapist) and then taking that choice away. He then asked me again how much I wanted to be prescribed in the following session. I remember this session was in person. I told him I wanted to be prescribed the high end of what is normal, and he said he would go with that. I was made aware that the dosage is prescribed by the prescribing doctor, Prescribing Doctor, and there is a standard dosage that most patients are prescribed with a max dosage of 400mg. LCSW disclosed his gender identity to me and asked me if I had a preference in how he would present himself during our sessions because sometimes he wears dresses and glitter. I asked if he was asking about my comfort with my gender expression. He assured me that was not what he was asking about and, instead, wanted to know if I would be more comfortable with one of his gender expressions over another, and I let him know that I didn’t think it mattered. I found this conversation beyond strange and uncomfortable. I’ve been in therapy since I was 18, and I have never had a therapist behave in the ways I convey with LCSW and found him to be strange, unpredictable, over-sharing, and unsafe. Before my final in-person preparation appointment, LCSW informed me that he had moved his office to a different location in the center because it was larger. PREP 3 LCSW quickly allowed me access from the waiting room on this day. Almost immediately after I pressed the button on the wall, I could hear his footsteps coming down the hallway, and this made me uncomfortable as most therapists or doctors that I have worked with allow for 1-5 minutes to pass before greeting me in the waiting room. I felt LCSW was unusually excited or rushed about my arrival. LCSW had warned me in the previous preparation appointment that he had moved offices because the new office was larger. I was highly uncomfortable with the move when I saw his office. I froze in the doorway. He moved his office to the center's most private and secluded area. The new office seemed smaller. A reclined chair in his old office was available for the KAP therapy, which felt safe. The chair was not in his new office, and my options for where to lay down during my KAP therapy were a couch that I was much too tall for or a mattress on the ground. I felt unsafe laying on a mattress with LCSW in the room, but I thought I had no choice. I had experienced so much seductive and inappropriate behavior with him that discovering I would not have a reclined chair and would be isolated in the building was devastating news to me. The fact that his new office did not have room for the antigravity chair in his old office was an example of how this move was not due to the office being larger than he claimed. I had brought gifts for LCSW for the Winter Solstice. I had gifted him a piece of mushroom art made with layers of paper and a mushroom hairpin that my coworker made. These items were kept on a shelf in his office for all of my following sessions. I wasn’t aware that therapists are not supposed to accept gifts from their clients. LCSW was overly excited about the gifts. During our in-person preparation session, LCSW would ask me questions unrelated to my therapy. Do you like guacamole? Do you enjoy Role-Play Board Games? When I asked why he asked me these questions, he answered, “I’m trying to understand your resources.” After initially reporting him to my doctor, I discovered his dating profile while listing his display name, “Guacamole,” and his interests, “Role-play Board Games.” Now, I wonder if he was spending my sessions with me trying to gauge our compatibility for dating. LCSW would be extremely flirtatious with me. He would have his long hair up in a bun, pull it out slowly, groom it with his fingers, and display it in front of his shoulders, all while batting his eyes at me. Both times he did this, I went into shutdown. I would avoid eye contact, look at the floor, hunch, and move my body in the opposite direction, showing my physical discomfort. I would be talking about something both times he did this, and each time, I lost my words and stopped talking as a part of the shutdown state of my nervous system. This flirting with his hair happened on PREP 3 and KAP 1. One session was a preparation appointment, and the second time was before I was administered K for my KAP session. I asked LCSW if people clench their jaw while on K as I often have a lot of jaw tension and use a nightguard at night. He shared with me that his other clients who are “guarded” usually feel more relaxed on K and that often the jaw relaxes, but he let me know I could bring my guard if I wanted. I remember not liking that LCSW had indirectly called me guarded, but he was not wrong about that assessment. I had learned to be guarded to protect myself from people, especially harmful people like LCSW, who were unpredictable and unregulated. As I think back to this interaction, I wish I had been able to remain guarded around LCSW, which was not possible for me while on a psychedelic. LCSW asked me during an in-person preparation appointment if I had been hypnotized and if it worked. LCSW would use Neurological Language Processing on me to try and seduce me and make me think about sex during two of my sessions, PREP 3 & KAP 1. When he gave directions for taking the K medication, he would speak at a regular pace until he got to the part of the directions that directed me that I could spit or swallow the K. Specifically, the words “spit and swallow” were slowed down to an unusually slow pace, and he would stare into my eyes with intensity when he said those words slowly. He would slow that part of the directions down to a slow pace, all while making intense eye contact that made me highly uncomfortable. He did this during my last preparation appointment and also during my first appointment with the K. During these experiences, with the sexual and seductive nature of the emphasis of these words, while giving me directions, I would go into shutdown. I would look away and disengage with LCSW during these interactions. I was feeling highly unsafe, overwhelmed, confused, and afraid. KAP 1 During my first KAP appointment, LCSW welcomed me from the waiting room, pressed the switch on the wall, and looked around the room as usual. He would typically follow me down the hallway to his office, which made me uncomfortable as I have been stalked coming home at night off the bus countless times. In any capacity, I will avoid having any persons behind me as I feel safer when I can see people and when I have enough physical distance to run or defend myself if I can see signs of aggression in a person. I was surprised that LCSW would walk closely behind a person with PTSD, and I felt he had minimal experience working with people with PTSD and didn’t understand trauma-informed care. Most trauma-informed professionals I work with would check in with me regularly about what I was comfortable with. Before working with LCSW, I’d never had a doctor or staff walk so closely behind me. For example, I have had Doctors ask me if I am more comfortable sitting in a chair that faces the door instead of having the door behind me, and LCSW never checked in with me about any of these things. I was violently attacked for asking a 300lb man to try and be quiet so that I could sleep. I struggled to ask for what I needed to feel safe and comfortable from men after this experience, and I did not feel safe asking LCSW not to walk behind me or continue invading my personal space. While being let into the center, I stood behind him with as much physical distance as possible and waited for him to finish so I could follow him down the hall. He instructed me to walk down the hallway to his office and followed me closely. I entered LCSW’s dark office with the blinds closed. I felt uncomfortable immediately but was trying to manage my fear and stress the best I could as I was so dedicated to healing with K Assisted Psychotherapy and was looking to this therapy as my last hope after having tried everything with a slow, painful progress that had many setbacks as I struggled to avoid people like LCSW in my life who prioritize their desires over my well-being. We were in the center alone during all my appointments except the intake. There were no other therapists or admin. My KAP appointments were scheduled at the end of the day in the winter, so it was often already dark outside. I have since learned that being so isolated and having appointments late in the day are red flags. I was moving and brought in a book from my personal library to give to LCSW. On Book Name. LCSW responded to this by saying, “That’s really sweet.” This book lived on his bookshelf in following appointments. LCSW let me know I could set up my altar items at the end of his table and that he was going to the restroom and would be right back. I would like to mention that LCSW often seemed very different after visiting the bathroom. I suspected he was struggling with drug abuse and addiction, as when he went more than a few hours without a restroom break, he would look awful with sunken eyes with dark circles under them. He would get sweaty and look generally ill, and the only time I have seen anything like this was when I was around a family member who was experiencing opioid addiction. I was recovering from my KAP session when he looked ill to me, so it might have something to do with the medication or lighting. When LCSW returned from the bathroom, he walked right behind me while I was on my knees setting up my altar. I began physically shaking when he walked behind me because I feared him. I was visibly shaking, and LCSW started blowing air forcibly out of his nose multiple times, loudly. He was standing right behind me as I was visibly shaking and without tissue or covering his face. He blew out of his nostrils very forcefully multiple times until I froze. Then, I slowly turned my head in his direction and asked him, “Do you have allergies?” He said, “No, I have_____.” I can’t remember the condition he stated he had, but I remember it included something nasal-related to his nose. After asking this question to him, he immediately stopped with the weird, aggressive nose forceful exhalation. I never saw him do any weird breathing at any other time. I believe he did this to distract me from my body shaking and to gain sympathy from me as a form of emotional manipulation. My body was showing me how unsafe I felt, and I believe that LCSW wanted to distract me or was threatened by this. He then asked me to share the items for my altar with him. LCSW, told me he had to read my blood pressure. I was wearing a thick sweater and tried to pull the sleeve up high enough to be able to wrap the band around my arm. I could not pull the arm up high enough and asked LCSW if he could just put the band over my sweater. He said no and asked if that was okay. I sighed with disappointment and removed my sweater. Underneath my sweater, I wore a crop top/tank top shirt with no bra because I was instructed to dress comfortably. I was not comfortable with being so exposed around LCSW after experiencing so much harmful sexual behavior from him. Still, I was so desperate to receive this K Assisted Psychotherapy treatment that I was trying my best to cope with the harm I was experiencing. LCSW helped to wrap the band for the blood pressure reader around my arm. He did this very slowly. When he went to press the velcro together on the band, he used the tips of his two fingers, pointer & middle finger, and slowly pushed the velcro together with his two fingertips like this. This was taking forever and was very inappropriate and sexually charged. At this point, I got angry with LCSW. I audibly sighed with anger and frustration, and LCSW recognized this. He stopped petting my arm and took a step back. He told me to uncross my legs. He stood on the other side of the room and stared at the wall as the automatic blood pressure reader read my blood pressure. The machine went off with three beeps, and LCSW was still staring at the wall, completely disassociated. LCSW administered the K to me and did the creepy “spit or swallow” thing after this. He then helped me get onto the mattress and tucked me in, touching my body while tucking me in around my arms and legs. I remember having a difficult time relaxing or feeling comfortable during this appointment. I did not want to wear my eyemask or the noise-canceling headphones because I didn’t feel safe with LCSW and wanted to be aware of my surroundings as much as possible. I remember looking down at my body multiple times to make sure he wasn’t touching me. After about an hour into the session, I let LCSW know I had to use the restroom. LCSW helped me and told me we would have to walk slowly to the bathroom as I lacked balance. Someone from one of the other offices was walking behind us. I got into the bathroom and used one of the stalls. I sat there after finishing, not wanting to come out because I was so afraid of being around LCSW. The person who walked behind us to the bathrooms was also in the restroom in one of the other stalls. As she went to leave, she probably noticed that I was sitting in a stall and not doing anything. She asked me if I was okay, and I said yes. As we walked back, I exited the bathroom and noticed that LCSW was holding my hand, which I found very confusing. LCSW helped me back onto the mattress, tucked me into my blankets again, and touched my body on my arms and legs again. LCSW violated my informed consent by holding my hand and touching me while tucking me into my blanket while I was on K. I had clearly stated to LCSW that I did not want him to touch me in any way. I had a little loss of coordination but generally was fine walking on my own, and I did not need LCSW to hold my hand to “help” me. I was in an open and loving state of mind while on the medication, and this experience is when things got confusing for me. I knew I felt Uncomfortable with the unusual attention he was giving me and with the seductive and flirtatious behaviors he exhibited before taking K with him. This was the first time those feelings confused me, and a part of me liked how it felt to have this attention while under a psychedelic. These feelings caused me internal distress. After returning to the room, I tried to relax into my experience. I experienced a body sensation that reminded me of my body sensation when I had an out-of-body experience where you tense up right before leaving your body. I heard LCSW say, “There you go.” This freaked me out and took me out of my experience. I remember fidgeting my body after this. His comment felt like it was sexual to me. LCSW checked his laptop during my first KAP appointment and often texted someone through iMessage. As soon as the music ended, LCSW said my name “Name.” This jolted me out of my relaxed state. He told me he needed to use the restroom, and I asked him to bring me some water. When he returned, I had moved to the couch, and he responded to this move by saying, Woah. We chatted about my experience, as I didn’t feel like talking while on the medication. He then checked in with me and told me it was 515pm. Fifteen minutes later than when our appointment was supposed to end. I had arranged transportation and was shocked by how late our appointment had gone. I scrambled to get my things together to get to my ride in time. LCSW told me that I should plan to have my transportation picked up 15 minutes after our sessions, but this should have been communicated to me beforehand. I have since learned that therapists extending your appointment time past when it is supposed to end is a red flag. INTEGRATION 1 This was my first integration appointment. LCSW asked me how I was doing, and I said, “Fine.” He asked me to use a different adjective, and I told him I was feeling a lot. During this appointment, I went through my backpack, looked for my journal, and pulled out my headphones in their case in front of LCSW. He responded to seeing these headphones with an angry sigh. I shared some of the things I journaled about, and he seemed impressed by what I had written. I shared with LCSW about an oracle deck I had used the night after the first KAP session. I shared a card I pulled the night after my first KAP appointment while asking, “How can LCSW help me.” I read the description of the card I had pulled: “angel’s trumpet.” He got down on his knees and moved towards me with a coffee table in between us. He told me the reading resonated with him. I asked him how so, and he talked about his cornerstone of death work as the card description discussed how this card was related to hospice workers, which LCSW shared with me he had done before his current job. I resonated more with aspects of the reading that mentioned a seductive nature as I felt he had been sexually inappropriate with me, but I did not share that with him. He asked to see the cards' box and got loud and excited about my deck. “THERE’S A MAGIKAL BOTANICAL ORACLE DECK!” I often found LCSW’s energy to be unpredictable. He would, at times, use his therapist's voice and then have these excited or angry outbursts. He asked me if he could take a photo of the deck, and I said that was fine. After this first integration appointment, I felt a lot of shame and anxiety around having the headphones that I perceived LCSW had gotten angry about. He might be mad at me for seeking sliding scale services while having expensive headphones. I got these noise-canceling headphones as a self-care item for myself when I thought I would be undergoing KAP therapy while living with my ex, who would slam doors and move around the house angrily. I got these headphones to help me eliminate that noise and feel a sense of safety for integration. I felt so much anxiety and shame around my perception of LCSW being angry with me that I impulsively made a $500 donation to the center that I requested my employer match. My company later agreed to match my donation. I could not afford this donation, but I wanted to feel like LCSW was not angry with me for using the sliding scale services. the center later refunded my donation after reporting the harm. I requested this reimbursement, which I was grateful for as this was not a donation I was in any financial situation to make, and it was made on credit. I had made sure this donation was made privately and chose not to share my name as a donor with the center as I didn’t want LCSW to mention this to me because I didn’t want to talk about this uncomfortable situation with him. LCSW's phone was going off with a bell sound at the end of the session, and he apologized multiple times for this and said it shouldn’t be going off while he was messing with his phone. INTEGRATION 2 The second K appointment was canceled because LCSW had gotten sick. He had canceled an earlier preparation appointment because he had COVID, and I remember thinking he gets sick a lot. He wanted to keep our integration appointment and schedule it virtually, so we met via Google Meet. In his email coordinating this with me, he stated he would still “love” to have a virtual appointment. I didn’t like his use of the word love. He started the virtual appointment by overly complimenting my hair and telling me it looked good multiple times, making me uncomfortable. I remember I gave a cold and short “thanks.” He told me I had transformer hair and asked if I had recently changed my hair. I told him no, I was just wearing my hair up. I thought to myself that he was weird to make such a big deal about my hair and that I had worn my hair up around him before. In the background of his call was his bed in his bedroom, which I thought was strange and inappropriate. REACHING OUT FOR HELP On the evening a few days following integration 2, I asked my friend and mentor, a Naturopath Doctor, for advice. We scheduled an on-call, and I shared my concerns about this therapist. I wasn’t sure if I should approach LCSW with my fears about his behavior. She was extremely upset about the information I was sharing about my experience. She shared her knowledge about ethics as a provider and told me that this behavior was highly inappropriate and that she was worried about me. I remember her yelling out, “Don’t mess with my girl, fucker.” She asked me if I thought he was a predator. We came up with a plan that I would write out my concerns about LCSW’s behavior and share them with him during my next appointment. I did write this all out in my journal that evening. With Doctor's wisdom, I began to see that while experiencing this inappropriate behavior from LCSW before and during the altered state I was in using K, I had developed an addiction to the dysfunctional emotional state I would enter into when I experienced this abuse. I had been starving myself after my first KAP appointment, feeling high off the inappropriate attention, and having confusing feelings after experiencing the boundary crossing while on a psychedelic. I felt like the experience with LCSW was confusing my feelings surrounding love and solidifying my prior experiences that love is abuse. I was abusing myself, thinking I was loving myself. I wanted to look good, and since the abuse I experienced during my last preparation appointment at the end of Month, I had dropped four pant sizes. I was rapidly losing weight, which was noticed by my other care providers, who mentioned the change in weight to me. Since writing this in my journal and approaching my second KAP appointment, I have become very nervous about approaching LCSW with my concerns. I did not want to have this confrontation with him. I decided the night before that I was not going to read this to him unless there was another boundary crossing or sexually inappropriate interaction. KAP 2 Toward the beginning of my second KAP appointment, I asked LCSW about a stuffed animal bat he had on his bookshelf. He went into a very long-winded description of this bat. While looking at the bat in my opposite direction, he said that the wings were the PRIDE flag and the ears were the polyamorous flag. After sharing the polyamorous flag ears, he looked his right shoulder in my direction. I was staring at the wall across from me. I was worried about his intentions behind basically telling me that he is polyamorous. KAP 2 and integration 3. During these appointments, LCSW was more professional. He left his hair in a bun. He didn’t emphasize “spit or swallow.” He was normal when reading my blood pressure. I was so grateful that he had finally changed his behavior and respected these boundaries. I felt like he finally recognized how these behaviors affected me. I just had to manage my conflicting feelings around a part of me that felt like I had become addicted to this inappropriate attention. I was compassionate towards myself about that as I knew it made sense why I felt this way, that my experience was confusing, and that the psychedelic experience opened me up to feeling loving and caring to the therapist who I was feeling so unsafe with prior. I knew I could get help with this from my regular therapist and planned to discuss this during our next session. LCSW asked if I wanted the eye shade and headphones this time. I said I wanted to try them because hearing the lady in the room who shared a wall with LCSW, who worked with a different organization, and hearing him talk during my session last time was distracting. He said, “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” LCSW was still sick during this appointment and was wearing a mask. I was annoyed that he was coughing during my experience, and I found that distracting even with the headphones. At the end of this session, I gave LCSW a gift of a mullein tincture that I had ethically wildcrafted from the wilderness, extracted, and offered him a chance to try it. He asked me how to take it, and I shared the standard dosage of three dropper fulls three times a day and let him know to discontinue use if he had any side effects and when he no longer has symptoms of illness. Again, at the end of our appointment, we ended 15 minutes late. INTEGRATION 3 During our last session, I asked LCSW if he had tried the mullein tincture. He told me that he had taken it home, was using the standard tincture dosage, and was enjoying it. LCSW asked how it felt to have him respect my boundaries. He asked me this because he chose to be professional during one of our sessions. I told him I wasn’t sure if that was possible, but I was grateful for how he showed up yesterday. I had processed some of the imagery or hallucinations I experienced in KAP 2, including my cat, who had passed OE. I shared with LCSW how I chose OE because she was the only kitten in the litter who seemed to want me to hold her. He responded to this story by saying, “You picked each other.” I found his wording and response odd and worried that he was hoping that I would pick him in response to him picking himself as my therapist and picking me for a patient to be inappropriate with. I shared with LCSW that I was surprised that I did not feel a dissociative effect with K. I shared that I could feel my body more than I ever had before, and I was curious about this because I had spent most of my life dissociated from my body due to trauma. I gave examples of how other drugs would work oppositely for me than the general public. He responded to this by calling me an anomaly. I found this odd as I always thought that these effects were due to me being neurodivergent. For many people with ADHD, coffee can make them sleepy. I was uncomfortable with LCSW making comments like I was unique or one of a kind, and I didn’t think that was a healthy mindset I was seeking for myself. LCSW asked me to share something coming up that I wasn’t sure I felt safe talking about with LCSW. I told LCSW I was uncomfortable talking about this with him because he is a male-bodied person and because we had a weird dynamic. He nodded and said yes, I am a male-bodied person. I worded this like that because LCSW shared with me that he identifies as non-binary, so I did not want to refer to him as a man out of respect. I told LCSW about how I would wake up to my ex-boyfriend on top of me many times and how, eventually, I developed an injury from this repeated trauma that made it so I was unable to have sex without experiencing a lot of pain. LCSW had an angry outburst at this news and told me that I was raped and that it wasn’t consensual, and Name was loud and angry. This made me highly uncomfortable, and I shut down. LCSW asked me for the name of the man who did this to me. I gave him the name, and then I started to defend the person who did this to me because I don’t think LCSW took the time to understand the layers of this trauma, how much I loved the person who did this to me, and what factors were involved (alcohol) that made this person do things they wouldn’t normally do. LCSW started to calm down after this, as his anger triggered me. LCSW said he believed good people do bad things. LCSW asked me what gym I go to during this meeting. After reporting LCSW, I saw one of the therapists that worked for him at my gym, during a queer event, and I felt highly anxious that he was having people watch me. I have been going to this gym for seven years and have never seen this therapist before. At the end of the appointment, I offered LCSW a cottonwood bud oil extract that I had ethically wildcrafted from the wilderness and processed and extracted. I let him know, and it was labeled for external use only. I told him it was nice on this skin but that it should be tested on a small piece of skin first. He was grateful for this gift from me. He did not inform me that accepting patient gifts was inappropriate and did not uphold professional boundaries. I was not aware of these boundaries and ethics around gift-giving until after initially reporting sexual misconduct. I have text evidence about my ride from KAP 2. These texts were oddly missing from my text history, so my friend sent me screenshots of the messages she had on her phone. REACHING OUT FOR HELP & SUPPORT My friend who I first told about that harm I was experiencing followed up with the morning after KAP 2. After my integration appointment, I spoke with a friend at the sauna at my gym who went to school to become an LCSW and shared my experience with her. She told me that he had violated the code of ethics and that I was highly vulnerable. She then shared with me that her psilocybin guide had slept with her during their work together and that she had stopped her treatment with him. She asked me if I thought this was the first time he had done something like this. I had a panic attack in the locker room of my gym after talking to my friend. A week after KAP 2, I then shared my experience with my regular therapist, who also asked if I thought I was the first person he behaved this way with. She also informed that he had clear ethical codes. I had a panic attack during this session. The questions about LCSW being a predator remained in my mind. I knew his behavior as a therapist was inappropriate, and I wondered if the sometimes subtle nature of the experience and strange experience with his directions of “spit and swallow” could be accidental, especially when he repeated these behaviors even after I went into a shutdown state during my first experience with this behavior. I spent most of the night researching this kind of abuse. I am good at hyper-fixating and spending many hours researching a subject, quickly learning everything I can about it. I found many articles about grooming behaviors from therapists and emotional manipulation/therapy abuse that I felt uncomfortable with and how much I relate to them. These articles discuss the alleviation of symptoms of depression for victims due to the addictive nature of this inappropriate attention. I was pissed. I wanted to heal my brain, and I could not allow that to be based on a temporary response to the inappropriate attention I was receiving. I then read about how therapists sometimes adjust their behavior, becoming more professional after the patient shows some attachment or addiction to this behavior. The theory is that the patient will then approach the therapist and make the situation feel like a victim desires to have inappropriate interactions. I could not allow a situation like this when I had been so dedicated to healing for so many years of my life. I was highly agitated after learning more about this kind of abuse. I knew at this point that I was being deeply harmed and abused to an extent I couldn’t be fully aware of without the support of the people I spoke to about it and the knowledge of how this abuse affects victims. I planned to give myself time to process this new information before taking action. A week and one day after KAP 2, I had panic attacks in the waiting room of my doctor's office because I was struggling with the experience I had with LCSW and the knowledge I gained about the abuse I was experiencing. The doctor asked me about my experience with KAP, as I had listed K on my medications. It took me about an hour to tell her about my experience, but eventually, I was able to get it out of me between the tears and panic attacks. I did not want to report this to the doctor. I knew she would have to report him. I knew I would have to stop my therapy, and I did not want to give up this opportunity for KAP therapy. At the time, I also did not want to get LCSW in trouble, and a part of me felt incredibly guilty for telling this doctor about my experience. She was so amazing through this process. She spent about 2 hours with me, supporting me by sharing my experience. I had chosen this doctor for her indication of being trauma-informed; she had been patient, helpful, and understanding. She told me that I didn’t do anything wrong as I expressed my shame about how my feelings were confused once I had used a psychedelic with LCSW. She helped me come up with a safety plan. I knew I was in a very fragile state and thought it would be wise to have someone hold onto my K. She reached out to my doctors with my permission. She was able to get ahold of Prescribing Doctor, the prescribing doctor. On the day of my initial report to my doctor, I spoke to Prescribing Doctor on the phone, who works with Name. Prescribing Doctor is the prescribing doctor and is a part of the leadership team at the center. I was uncomfortable during this phone call with Prescribing Doctor; her tone was delighted and cheery. She told me she was in the middle of the forest in Locationwith joy and excitement. Her cheerful tone seemed highly inappropriate, given the circumstances, as I had just spent the day having panic attacks due to being groomed by her coworker. Later. I met with Prescribing Doctor in person. I asked Prescribing Doctor what was next after I reported the sexual misconduct. I shared with Prescribing Doctor how LCSW would disrespect my boundaries and continue to do so after I shut down in his office. Prescribing Doctor responded to this by saying, “he missed it.” I shrugged my shoulders in response. She reacted to my shrugging my shoulders by getting wide-eyed. Her reaction made me feel crazy and like she did not believe me. Prescribing Doctor then offered me a facilitated dialog with LCSW LCSW and offered that LCSW could bring the items I left in his office to my home, but I did not want that. I confirmed I did not feel comfortable having LCSW come to my house. It was an incredibly inappropriate thing even to suggest. Prescribing Doctor's notes do not include that the offering and idea of a facilitated dialog was her idea as a response to me asking what is next after reporting the sexual misconduct. She ignores my requests for this detail to be added to my record. The notes make it seem like it was my idea, which is not the case. I had no idea what a facilitated dialog even was before her offering it to me. Prescribing Doctor agreed to hold onto my medication and I could have it back whenever I felt ready. She later refused this unless I signed an NDA/release of all claims and when I shared my story more widely I was retaliated against and she claims she did this because I shared my experience of SI. I later was made aware that I wouldn't be able to take my life with K and that it is safe for this reason, and I would likely just take a long nap. I also had not had any thoughts about using K to hurt myself. I was later offered the facilitated dialog again with the Location team as part of a social justice framework. Cofounder and Psychiatrist informed me they could not provide it due to their insurance. That news was devastating, and I drove to a bridge to jump off it the next day but wasn’t brave enough to do so. I felt like the center had no idea how to handle my experience and report and was in a position to respond to it with care, and having something else offered to me by them and then taken away was traumatic. I think I held on to hope that I would get some kind of justice in the way that they had offered it to me, and having it taken away after experiencing something that broke me on a mental, physical, and spiritual level was not something I was in any position to handle. I was told multiple times over the course of reporting sexual misconduct by LCSW that the center and Prescribing Doctor had reported the sexual misconduct I experienced. It was only after some probing that I was made aware that any details regarding my experience had to come from me directly to the board and I felt that them not disclosing this to me without probing was a manipulation tactic to make me believe that the reporting was taken care of. I felt like the center was unwilling to uphold their signing of this document because they did not believe me. They allowed LCSW to continue to work in a leadership position. I have reported LCSW to the LCSW report and am sending this document to the LCSW Social Work Board in State. I have received support from SHINE and joined their peer support group for survivors of psychedelic harm. I am still seeking a regular therapist and am no longer working with my prior regular therapist due to her eating lunch during the last two therapy appointments. I have become hypervigilant for any signs of unprofessionalism from my care team after this sexual misconduct I experienced from LCSW. This experience with LCSW and the leadership team at the center of my city, has devastated my well-being. I came close to jumping off a bridge the day after getting the news about no longer being offered the Facilitated dialog. I have lost my trust in all people and my care team. I stepped away from therapy as I no longer feel safe in these dynamics. I fired all of my doctors and therapists. I started smoking cigarettes to try and help cope with the stress. Most days, I hope to die and don’t wish to continue living. I have angry outbursts where I would act on urges and exhibit behaviors that are abnormal for me. I lost all will to live, and most days, I don’t have the energy to care for myself. I would be amazed if I didn’t end up taking my own life in the next two years. The few people who care for me don’t know how to help me and comment on how hopeless I seem. Some of the people closest to me have stopped answering my calls or texts because they don’t know how to help me, and I have been in crisis for many days since Jan. 26th. I am trying many new psychiatric medications that are not helping me. The center and LCSW entirely abandoned me. I was not allowed to speak to LCSW. I had to wait many weeks between emails from the center. I was denied being matched with another therapist to help me understand the changes I was experiencing after two KAP sessions and experienced such sinister abuse and trauma from LCSW. My regular therapist, tried calling Prescribing Doctor so she could get information on how to support me better, but she has yet to get a callback. I asked the center for LCSW resignation.

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    I believe that God has given me a second chance and I'm not going to blow it. I am so happy and have peace in my home. People feel sorry for me because I don't have contact with my family, but what they don't understand is that I have peace. Peace is far more important than family after what I've been through. I have a service dog to protect me from them. She's a pitbull and extremely protective of me. So if they come after me it better be with a gun because that's the only way they're going to get to me. I also have a cat and they're my family now. God has blessed me immensely since leaving the abuse. The Bible says that God will give you double what you've lost due to abuse. I can attest to that. I have a beautiful apartment that is a secured building so you can't get in unless you have a key. I live on the second floor, so they can't get to me by breaking in. My ex-husband and daughter broke into my other home, stole my 2 English Bulldogs, and killed them just to hurt me. I've had to move 5 times because they keep finding me. It doesn't help that if you Google someone's name you can find out where someone lives. Along with teaching the legal system about abuse, the internet also needs to learn how people use it not for good, but for abuse. God has blessed me with a beautiful car, GMC Acadia Denali. If either of them knew that, they would be furious because their goal was to destroy me. God wasn't about to let that happen.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    He ripped the wings off of butterflies..

    I was about 5/6 the first time it happened. I had no idea what was going on I just knew I felt weird.. deep in my stomach.. that gut wrenching feeling I would get before my parents would line us up for swats. It started with him being a little touchy and "accidently" walking in on me while I was showering/ changing then he got more and more handsy until finally he trapped me in the basement one day. He managed to pin me on the ground and lifted up my dress; before I knew it he had ripped my underwear and was touching me. It felt like an eternity had passed as I laid there motionless and crying, but a few minutes later he kissed my cheek, told me he was going to think about this later and that this was our little secret game as he helped me up; he was turned on with the biggest smile on his face. A few days later I was doing the laundry in the basement, bent over to pick up the clothes and drop them in the washer. He took this as a good opportunity to play "our secret game"; before I could do anything, I was pinned against the washer, he ripped my shorts and underwear down and next thing I knew he was fully inside me this time. I screamed out in pain as he jammed into me repeatedly so he covered my mouth.. I was so scared and confused. I felt the blood dripping down my legs and I was in so much pain I felt like I was going to be sick. Finally, after a few minutes it was over, and he let me go. I bent down to pull my shorts and underwear back up when I saw the blood on my legs. So many thoughts ran through my head, and I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't bring myself to make a sound. He used one of the towels I was about to wash to clean the blood off of himself then tossed it at me for my legs. He raised his hand to wipe the tears from my cheek and I flinched. "What's wrong? You don't like our little game?" I was so sore for a few days; hardly able to sit or walk. I struggled to get the blood stains out of my clothes. It felt like I was dreaming.. that I was going to wake up from this bullcrap nightmare at any moment, but I never did. The soreness I felt after he was done with me went away with time, but I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact this was happening. Is this normal? Do other brother's and sister's do this? This continued for years; he would trap me in any places he could, and it felt like it took longer and longer each time. I decided at the age of 9/10 I had had enough and tried to tell my mother what my brother was doing to me. As bad of a mother as she was I thought she would still protect me when it came down to it, but I was soooo very wrong.. after all he was her favorite. The words she said to me will be forever engraved in my brain, "You can either let this ruin his life or you can move on. This doesn't seem like an issue you should let ruin your brother’s life." From that moment on I felt like it was my fault he was doing this so I kept my mouth shut in fear that no one else would believe me or that people would blame me if they did. He used this to his advantage and would play the game any chance he could even blackmailing me "I won't tell mom if you let me.." or he would take things from me like my homework and withhold them until I "played" and even then he would make me do extra things before he'd give it back. He pinned me down to the dining room table, hand gripping a chunk of my hair tight enough he pulled some out, covered my mouth so I couldn't scream for help and went so hard he bruised my hips.. I couldn't sit/ bend my body for a few days after that. Everywhere in that house was full of reminders that my body wasn't mine. It wasn't just forcing me to have sex either, he would force me to give him blow jobs/ hand jobs and randomly pin me against things and grope me just to prove he could any time he wanted. If my parents weren't home and we were watching something that had a sex scene in it (or if it wasn't on already he would put something on) he would openly touch himself to it in front of me.. it truly was a game for him. I would sit on the shower floor for hours with the water as hot as it would go, scrubbing my skin raw, but I never felt clean enough. No matter what I did or how hard I tried I couldn't wash him off of me.. I became so numb to it because it was happening at least weekly, but sometimes daily that I thought that was all I was good for was my body and what people could do to it. After a while I had opened up to my first girlfriend about it my freshman year of high school and started to feel like maybe I wasn't at fault. I never told anyone the full extent of what he had done and been doing to me because I felt dirty and ashamed for letting it happen to me. Talking about it, even just a little bit gave me some comfort though; no one could truly understand how I felt because they hadn't gone through it themselves, but them just listening and making me feel heard was comforting. Somehow it got out at school and CPS was called again (they had previously been called for physical abuse I endured from my parents; mostly my mother and they didn’t even bother to investigate when she gave me a black eye) along with my mother to the school. I thought it was weird, but made my way down.. when I rounded the corner, I could hear her voice, and I froze in my tracks. There's that feeling again.. Sure enough, when I walked through the front office doors I could see a group of people in the conference room; my principle, my counselor, the school phycologist I had been seeing for "sessions" like a therapist (although I never told her about this because she told my mother EVERYTHING) two CPS workers and my mother. As my gaze met with my mother’s I began to feel like my stomach was going to fall out of my butt at any moment and she just stared at me with those soulless eyes she always looked at me with. Of course, she remembered we were at the school, plastered on a big smile on and greeted me like I was her precious baby who she missed so much. "Do you know why we've called you down here?" I just sat there silently with tears rolling down my cheeks while the adults talked like I wasn't there. When it finally came out "what exactly did you say your brother has been doing to you?" all I could do was look at my mother, crying and saying, "I didn't say anything I promise!" I never said the rumors weren't true or that he never did anything I only ever said "I didn't say anything" and yet no one noticed they just saw a child crying hysterically, listened to my mother and blew it off that I was being dramatic and looking for attention. Somehow my father never found out about any of this and there was no further investigation, no examinations and no reports.. this was the SECOND time CPS failed me. He continued to do this to me until I got kicked out at 18 (or as my mother likes to say that I ran away) because instead of going back when she told me I could I stayed out. The first time I chose to have sex at the age of 16 I not only did it with someone I didn't love, but I had to get high to do it. When I got home, I sat on the floor of the shower, with it as hot as it would go and just sobbed while the water ran over my back. I thought it would be different if I wanted to do it, that I would like it, and it would make me feel better, but I hated it and mentally I couldn’t take it. I was self-harming in more ways than one and made several attempts on my life.. but any time I was with someone, or someone flirted with me I threw my body at them because I thought that's all I was good for and all anyone truly wanted. I was high most of the time, especially when I had sex, and I really didn’t care what happened to me anymore. Then I met my husband when I was 18.. the wonderful man that he is; we’ve been together 15 years, married for going on two and he’s healing something he didn’t break and makes me feel safe. There's a fire that burns within me that is fueled by so much anger.. I will forever be changed by what my brother did to me and for the lack of protection from someone who should have protected me, but chose to protect my abuser instead. I’ve spent years battling my own mind trying to stay here in spite of them; I still struggle with my self- harming in pretty much all the ways I used to along with other attempts on my life and constantly wanting to end it/ feeling like my boys deserve better than me. This is the first time I've ever fully told anyone about what he did.. not even my husband knows the full story because I didn't want to burden him with the weight of my pain. This pain has been weighing on my soul all my life and I just can't take it anymore; I'm drowning in it. I've blamed myself for so long and I feel so alone.. I feel like I'm damaged goods, like I'm broken. So, I've come here as a 30 something year old, with the encouragement and support of my therapist and my amazing husband to tell my story.. grammatical/ spelling errors and all. I wish to break the generational trauma for my son, so he never has to heal from his childhood and to heal from what’s left me broken; My boys deserve the best version of me. Even though it will probably never be seen by anyone but me, this is me taking back my power from him.. weather it ruins his life or not because he deserves to lay in the bed he made. I may never get justice for his actions and I'm not even really sure what that would look like for me, but I'm a survivor none the less. Thankfully I'm learning day by day that what he did to me wasn't my fault it was his (partly my mother’s for letting it continue) and that I deserved so much better. I didn't deserve any of this. I deserved a mother that believed me, loved me and protected me when I needed it. I deserve to heal, be loved and feel happiness. Most of all I deserved to be able to keep my innocence..

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    it happened to me

    I would do anything for it not to be real, but it is. And I’m starting to think it’s more common than any of us want to admit. But it’s time to be brave and acknowledge these hard truths no matter how much it hurts. Because we deserve healing and even more than that, we deserve a world that sees and acknowledges these horrors for what they are. The nature of the trauma that comes with living through something so disgusting is that your brain tends to block a lot out as a way to protect you. That’s how shattering of an event CSA is. I can’t remember how exactly young but it was YOUNG—- so young that everyone refused to believe me even though all of the signs were there. I’m talking 5 or 6 years old, and so that would have made my younger brother, the perpetrator, as little as 4 years old. Was it because he was younger that my dad just ignored it when he’d see my brother pinning me down in the yard and rubbing himself on me? We were all there to witness it but I’m the only one bearing the scars. What do you think happens when a little kid can see he can get away with something? Of course it escalated. And no one did anything when they found my bloody underwear even though it would be 7 more years before I saw my first period. My mother yelled at me when she saw them….Why? I didn’t make them that way, why am I in trouble and not your son who I keep telling you is hurting me when he lays on me? But according to her it had to have been something else, a medical condition or anomaly, certainly not what her own son was doing. Poor thing had to think about something that made her uncomfortable, meanwhile I had to continue to live with and be groped by and molested and penetrated by that “uncomfortable” for the next decade. Yes, kids can most certainly abuse other kids even at ages that seem horrifically young to you. If it’s horrible for you to realize, imagine how horrible it is to have happen to you. And no, I don’t talk to that “father”, or that “brother”, and certainly not the “mother” who insisted she’s actually the biggest victim in this horror story by having to think about any of it in the first place. If only she cared what her own daughter, and all of us other survivors, must think about. Tell your story as many times as you have to, and don’t entertain folks who do anything but give you the unrelenting, undying support you deserve. I mean that. If you read this and take anything away from it, please take that.

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    Healing to me is not hiding away what happened to me.

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    Surviving Gang Rape impression

    Surviving Gang Rape impression
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    Because we were married…

    I’m sharing here because I hope I can reach out to other women who may have gone through marital rape or may still be going through it and I want you to know you are not alone. For years I felt as if I was asleep as I couldn’t face up to what was happening to me, why I was losing weight and why I so depressed. I minimised everything, even to him. I would try and make him feel better afterwards. Most of the time it was as simple as me saying no to sex and him doing it anyway while I was completely disconnected, and it was so often, I would lie there and wait til he was done most of the time, but each thing built up to him pushing the boundaries further, sometimes when we were out in public, always after I went out with my friends, it was part of the deal. I always told myself he’d be in better form if I just went along with it. He was always so stressed and so angry. And I loved him and sometimes I enjoyed sex with him. It made things very confusing in my head. And I was eating barely anything, which he encouraged, he was constantly buying me exercise equipment and sexy outfits. I kept getting sick, I was tired and low all the time. My family and friends were saying I wasn’t myself. There were 3 incidents that I play over and over in my head that I couldn’t minimise (although I tried). And they led to me telling him our marriage was over. That was a year ago. I thought it might help me to write one of them down and maybe someone will identify with me and it might help them. It was at his best friends wedding and as usual, he wanted us to do something exciting sexually. So we went to the men’s toilets. We were kissing and we started to have sex. I was quite drunk. All of a sudden he turned me around and bent me over the toilet, my hands on the window sill. I started to say no. It came out in what sounded like a little girls voice. I don’t know why I remember that so well. I don’t know why I didn’t shout. He raped me anally in the men’s cubicle and I was crying looking at a dirty window sill and I could hear strange men outside commenting. Afterwards I kept asking why did you do that, I didn’t want that, it hurt me, you were too rough, I said no. But he he didn’t want to talk about it. He left me sitting with one of his male friends that I didn’t know to go outside with his best friend and have cigars. He saw I was in pain and bleeding for days after. I stayed with him for years after that. Other things happened after that too. I ended up feeling like his stress ball, a rag doll, good for nothing else. I was with him since I was 18 years old and we have children together. He was all I knew. He was my husband and I loved him. No one knew what was happening. Everyone thought we were a couple in love. It wasn’t until I told him I couldn’t share a bed with him anymore and I was starting ti have panic attacks that we went to a marriage counsellor and it all came out. I woke up. It was her face. Her reaction. I felt so stupid and embarrassed. And he tried to explain it away to her shouting at her that he was a man. I was sitting there thinking how did I let this happen to me? I always saw myself as quite a strong, intelligent, bubbly person. I’m in my 40s, I should know better. I was looking at the counsellors face and it somehow didn’t feel as if it was happening. I realised I was shaking and she was worried about me and he was shouting at her. I felt so embarrassed and helpless. And stupid in front of another grown woman. I was thinking what if this was someone I loved telling me this happened to them? But still in my head I kept thinking its not really rape because he was my husband, and I loved him and so many times I wanted to have sex with him so how could it be rape. But why did he want to hurt me? I kept thinking this couldn’t be happening to me. Anyway thanks for reading. I hope it helps someone. I feel it helped me to write it down.

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    Every step forward, no matter how small, is still a step forwards. Take all the time you need taking those steps.

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    Dear Name

    I was 15. I smoked marijuana occasionally (as I was in my teen angst phase). I had a boy bestfriend and was also in a relationship, not necessarily a healthy one at all but I was in one. One night I felt depressed due to being stood up for a date to the lake I was supposed to have that day. Normally I smoke when I felt down and I felt overwhelmingly down that night; so I smoked a bit too much accidentally. I eventually started greening out and tripping very badly so I messaged my boy bestfriend to calm me down (my bf at the time had went to sleep early for work and lived a town away). He (my boy bsf) invites himself over unannounced and I had to make my way outside to see him (as I was not going to let him inside as it was so late at night and parents were asleep). We then went to the shed outside my house to sit and talk as he "wanted to calm down my high". Eventually it (my high) got so bad I was swaying backwards (while sitting on the floor) and fell backwards. My boy bsf then got ontop of me (as he was/is incredibly bigger than me) and begin taking advantage of me. My body felt extremely weak due to the marijuana and could not pull myself up at all and soon was not capable of moving due to being held down and completely restricted by the boy. I remembered the agony and pain I felt of "it". It burned like fire in me and I tried to scream for help but no one could hear me (as we were secluded in a shed away from everyone in the middle of the night). He left me. The first thing I did due to feeling absolutely disgusted in my own skin was shower... To this day (almost 3 years later) I remember what I was wearing. A tie dye shirt, black basket ball shorts and a bikini bottom that had straps going to both sides (crossed even) to both of my hips. To this day I get scared of wearing bikini bottoms... to this day I fear summertime because of the agony of remembering it. I had kept the bakini bottoms in my dresser because he had finished in them and I believed that was my only proof of the incident. My mother had mistakenly cleaned them.. she had cleaned all if my clothes in my room while I was away in a mental hospital. I am left math nothing but my words. The 2nd thing I did (after I showered) was tell my bf at the time what happened, bawling in tears, pain and frantically texting everything that happened so I wouldn't forget. He, instead of helping or calming me, claimed me as a cheater and left me.

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    It is not your fault!

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    How am I supposed to live?

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    your body is beautiful. period.

    your body is beautiful. period.
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    #652

    I was in my local pub, the landlady told me someone knew to the area was lonely so I asked him to play pool. We hung out a few times after that, one time walking home at the end of the night he took my hand I told him I had a boyfriend. Not long after I was out with my brothers and we met him, after a while they went home and then me and him were walking home, we lived very near each other in a small town so it was normal to walk together. I don't know who suggested walking through the playground which I'd done a million times with other people, but I remember he was kissing me and 3 times I said no and asked him to stop then I froze as I realised I didn't really know him and he could do anything to me, all I could think was let him do whatever he wanted to me as long as I survive and get home to my boyfriend. The next morning I woke up and went to the bathroom, I was bleeding from where he'd raped me anally and bruised where he'd held my arms down. I had love bites on my chest.I don't know how I got home. I started to drink more as I kept bumping into him and he kept asking me to go out with him. When I went to the place of work for work I'd bump into him on the street and need to run home and drink so I could calm down before going back to work. I rang support organisation, I was told not to tell my boyfriend as that would only upset him. 8 years later I went to rehab for alcoholism. It was that or suicide. I did meet up with him once more a few weeks after the assault as I needed to tell him what he'd done was not okay, he didn't care, said he didn't remember. I still feel angry and guilty for not reporting him but he's from another country and left my town many years ago so its not possible, I don't even know his last name. I just hope he hasn't done it to anyone else. I was also afraid that if I reported him that my boyfriend would leave me or that I wouldn't be believed because I was drinking with him. I wish when the landlady asked me to help him that I hadn't and never feel like I can trust my instincts since then.

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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    I will remain annonymous.

    I am ready to share my story. I am 57, a mom, daughter, sister and friend. I am a survivor. It is 51 yrs ago that it happened to me and it is a memory that is as present and vivid in my mind today as it was that Saturday night. My grandma went to Bingo like she always did and I was at home with my grandpa. The hockey game was on because it was Hockey Night in Canada and every Saturday night that’s what everyone watched. Sitting beside him on the sofa, I was eating potato chips when he reached into the bag and pushed it down between my legs. He didn’t look at me when I looked at him and moved away. Instead he moved the bag and started fondling me. I was terrified, crying and saying no, no, no. He just kept on touching me and I didn’t like it, told him to stop and he kept watching the hockey game then asked me if I wanted to go and lay down with him in grandma’s bed. I said no and sat in the kitchen where I could see him, waiting for my grandma to come home. I always slept with her. I said nothing because I did not know what to say? I never went near him again. He was crippled, walked with crutches and never touched me again. I saw him try to touch and grab my cousin when she was dancing around the house in my grandma’s nightgown. She never said anything and laughed about it. I never understood but it made me feel afraid. I knew it was wrong. I hated him. When my younger sister was 9, he tried to touch her and she told our parents. All hell broke loose! My dad was so angry, asked me if he ever touched me and I confessed out of fear! My aunt and uncle stopped my dad from wanting to beat the living shit out of my grandpa because he was a “cripple”. They didn’t want any shame to come to the family, couldn’t send a cripple to jail and what about my grandma? As I heard all of this, I just cried and was ashamed, embarrassed that me and my sister were causing so much trouble. I was now 11 yrs old. Carried that secret with me for all those years and wanted to just die, disappear. You see, my aunt and my uncle, their families knew about my grandpa’s molesting behaviours because he molested their son and daughter before me and my sister. My dad supposedly didn’t know. Do I believe that? Honestly no, he and all of them knew what a pig their father was and did nothing to protect younger grandchildren that came along. My younger sister broke the silence, the cycle and nothing was done other than protect the grandparents and their families from any shame. It wasn’t until I became a parent at 38 that I was able to appreciate and experience true love as a mom, realizing my baby was my heart beating and living outside of my body. No one would ever hurt her as long as I live and breathe. I suddenly felt very different toward my father (deceased) and family. I questioned my step mom and aunt, asking them how could they choose to protect that person who was a repeat offender, a predator whom they called dad and never once did he or anyone in that family ever hold my hand and apologize to me for what happened? No one ever said anything to me, not a word nor an apology or how it impacted my life. I did tell them how I felt and my step mom was very compassionate, understanding and said she was very sorry she couldn’t do anything to help me. She was married to my dad who called the shots. My aunt? She had a lot to say and it wasn’t nice. Her thoughts were that I had parents who could’ve done something and it wasn’t up to her to do it. That’s where she is wrong and this is what I told her: I have a child and I have 2 nieces and a nephew. If anyone in my immediate or extended family ever did anyone of them harm in their actions, words, I would not hold back to protect them and make sure the perpetrator was called out, reported to authorities and held responsible for their action. I told my aunt she was the biggest hypocrite, coward, liar, worthless piece of shit on the face of this earth and that she was not worth the breath I breathe to waste another word. Being a mother, she should be ashamed of herself just as her mother and father, siblings should be. I said what I had to say and it was cathartic. My grandfather died in his sleep, he was found dead on the floor by my grandmother. My father, uncles and aunt saw that with my grandmother. I went to his funeral because I had to. My sister and I did not shed a tear. He deserved what he got and so did my father, aunt and uncles, grandmother. I have never gotten over this and still ask myself, why me? What goes through the head of a grandfather to look at his 6 yr old granddaughter and decide that he wants to touch her body sexually? Want to lay down with his 6 yr old granddaughter and do what? Who lets this behaviour just go unnoticed, when everyone knew about it because it happened to grandchildren before me? All of these people are deceased now, except my aunt who doesn’t speak to me at all after I confronted her about 15 yrs ago. My final words to her, she couldn’t handle and somehow still blamed everyone else and took zero responsibility because my grandfather molested 2 of 3 of her kids (older than me). I made her uncomfortable, I forced her to acknowledge that she was as guilty as her pedophile father because she knew and did absolutely nothing to stop it or make an effort to protect innocent kids in her family, like me. I hope she suffers til the day she dies with that guilt. Somehow I do t think she loses a wink of sleep. Perpetrators, wrong doers don’t. For me, I’m surviving every single day. I lead by example for my daughter, to keep her safe, understand and create clear boundaries with people whether it’s family, friends, co-workers, doesn’t matter who it is. If something is t right go with your gut and tell ME, tell someone you trust, love and never be silent. My voice my daughters voice is powerful. This has affected me my whole life. For that I will always hate my family.

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    is it cocsa?

    okay so i’m not sure if im overthinking things but i kinda just figured what cocsa is and it made me think back when i was younger. so when i was 8 or 9, there was this group of girls (all around my age as well) and they would kinda do weird things. the first time i saw them, it was my friends kissing in secret and i didn’t realize it was in a sexual way and i thought it was just friends being loving to each other. they saw me and they told me to be quiet and that i couldn’t tell anyone. i found it odd but i just went with it. anyway then they kinda “invited” me into the group and i found out it was about 5-6 other girls. these girls would all like kiss each other and touch each other but i never realized in what way and they would tell me that if i told anyone, they wouldn’t be my friend anymore so i didn’t. one time one of the girls pulled me in the bathroom and wanted to try something and told me to stay quiet so we wouldn’t get caught and she basically just made out with me and kinda touched me down there a little. another time one of these girls was my close friend and just us two had a sleepover and she was like “hey i wanna try something” so she laid me down on my back, crawled on top of me, and rubbed our “lady parts” together. i thought it was weird but she just kept telling me to not tell anyone so i never did. fast forward to now, im just now realizing how bad that was and that it wasn’t normal but im not sure if i should even hold them accountable considering they were also my age and might’ve just been repeating things they saw. so like i’m not sure if that should be considered cocsa

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    The Night I Was Betrayed

    Hello there. My name is Survivor. I’m 25 and live in California. Before I was get started, on my story, I want to add that I’m a disabled adult with minor Cerebral Palsy. It was October 2014 and I was in my second month of being 18. This was before I came out as Transgender. One night, my mom left for work. After that, her boyfriend and I decided to watch a program on tv. It was, I believe, “South Park.” All of a sudden, I felt a warm sensation inside my underwear and began feeling “wet” down there. I knew what was happening but hid my “moans” in silence so I wouldn’t let him notice that I was, if you can say, “aroused,” I guess. I felt very embarrassed and immediately knew it was wrong. Forward to two months later, the beginning of 2015, and I opened up to my school’s counselor about what happened. A police report was filed but the case never took off since that monster lied about what happened. My family never believed me and painted me out to be a liar.. That monster molested me a second time in March and I had to open up all over again. Seven months later, I was hospitalized for suicidal thoughts. Two years later, I attempted suicide by overdosing on my anti-depressants. I’ve learned that living well is best revenge but to not take what’s happened as a fault. What ever it is that you’re going through, you will be able to get through it since I wholeheartedly believe in you. Stay strong because you’re worth it.

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    The Creaking Floorboards

    The floorboards creaked, a sound that always preceded the dread. Small hands, clenched into fists beneath thin sheets, trembled. Sleep, a distant comfort, was shattered by the knowledge of what would soon come. A tiny figure, curled tight, lay rigid, every muscle anticipating the violation. No sound escaped the room, save for the shallow, rapid breaths of a soul trapped in a silent prison. Words were useless, a dangerous luxury denied. Only the tremor in the body, the frantic beating of a heart too young to know such fear, spoke of the torment within. The darkness held no comfort, only the looming shadow of the one who brought terror. Alone, utterly alone, the small form wept, tears tracing silent paths down pale cheeks, lost in the vast, indifferent night. Each sob was a whispered plea, a cry swallowed by the suffocating silence. Years crawled by, marked by the invisible scars that etched themselves deeper than any blade. The body grew, but the spirit remained fractured, a shattered mirror reflecting a distorted image of self. How does one mend a broken soul, a spirit ravaged by unseen wounds? The world outside was a confusing maze, a place where emotions surged and crashed like a violent sea. The familiar patterns of fear and anger surfaced without warning, outbursts that left the grown figure bewildered and ashamed. A desperate, unspoken question hung in the air: Does anyone see me? Does anyone care? The weight of the past pressed down, a suffocating blanket of pain and doubt. A silent scream echoed in the empty spaces of the mind, a desperate, anguished plea. "Please," it whispered, a broken prayer to a silent sky, "help me."

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    Grounding activity

    Find a comfortable place to sit. Gently close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths - in through your nose (count to 3), out through your mouth (count of 3). Now open your eyes and look around you. Name the following out loud:

    5 – things you can see (you can look within the room and out of the window)

    4 – things you can feel (what is in front of you that you can touch?)

    3 – things you can hear

    2 – things you can smell

    1 – thing you like about yourself.

    Take a deep breath to end.

    From where you are sitting, look around for things that have a texture or are nice or interesting to look at.

    Hold an object in your hand and bring your full focus to it. Look at where shadows fall on parts of it or maybe where there are shapes that form within the object. Feel how heavy or light it is in your hand and what the surface texture feels like under your fingers (This can also be done with a pet if you have one).

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Ask yourself the following questions and answer them out loud:

    1. Where am I?

    2. What day of the week is today?

    3. What is today’s date?

    4. What is the current month?

    5. What is the current year?

    6. How old am I?

    7. What season is it?

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Put your right hand palm down on your left shoulder. Put your left hand palm down on your right shoulder. Choose a sentence that will strengthen you. For example: “I am powerful.” Say the sentence out loud first and pat your right hand on your left shoulder, then your left hand on your right shoulder.

    Alternate the patting. Do ten pats altogether, five on each side, each time repeating your sentences aloud.

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Cross your arms in front of you and draw them towards your chest. With your right hand, hold your left upper arm. With your left hand, hold your right upper arm. Squeeze gently, and pull your arms inwards. Hold the squeeze for a little while, finding the right amount of squeeze for you in this moment. Hold the tension and release. Then squeeze for a little while again and release. Stay like that for a moment.

    Take a deep breath to end.