{"id":2886,"date":"2015-09-02T11:49:04","date_gmt":"2015-09-02T10:49:04","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/j-applebee.tumblr.com\/post\/128178130918"},"modified":"2015-09-02T11:49:04","modified_gmt":"2015-09-02T10:49:04","slug":"trigger-warning-rape-suicide-abuseive-had-depression-for","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bimedia.org\/blogs\/2015\/09\/trigger-warning-rape-suicide-abuseive-had-depression-for\/","title":{"rendered":"Trigger Warning: Rape, Suicide, AbuseI\u2019ve had depression for…"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/p>\n

Trigger Warning: Rape, Suicide, Abuse<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve had depression for most of my life. \u00a0I have a diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder and Post Traumatic Distress Syndrome. \u00a0But chronic anxiety was something new to me; until 2014, I\u2019d never experienced it. \u00a0Anxiety for me wasn\u2019t simply feeling nervous or on edge. \u00a0Anxiety felt like a blazing fire behind me, and barrels of oil around me, just waiting to explode. \u00a0Anxiety makes me want to run as fast as I can. \u00a0It makes me grind my teeth and clench my fists.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m invited to give a talk for a panel on LGBT hate crime at a small London police station. \u00a0I\u2019m surrounded by white police officers, most of whom are wearing body armour. \u00a0Multiple radios crackle on the table as I clear my throat. \u00a0I speak about racism of the police, of how biphobia is different to homophobia. \u00a0There is a strange silence around me. \u00a0I feel very nervous, but once I start talking I don\u2019t stop until all I\u2019ve wanted to say is done. \u00a0The police officers are positive \u2013 they ask a lot of questions that show how little they now about biphobia. \u00a0I\u2019m happy to answer them with a smile.<\/p>\n

I was raped in 2014. \u00a0It was not a first for me. \u00a0I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, which carried on into adulthood and only ended when I ran away aged 22. \u00a0Shortly after the assault, I got sick. \u00a0I had severe abdominal pains that landed me in hospital twice. \u00a0The first of these admissions into Casualty happened on the first day of my new job. \u00a0I lost my job whilst in hospital. \u00a0I also had a breakdown. \u00a0Everything seemed to be happening at once. \u00a0Chronic anxiety shoved its way into my life, and it hasn\u2019t left.<\/p>\n

I lead a workshop for the British Psychological Society on mental health and LGBT people. \u00a0I print out webpages from a few organisations who claim they can help. \u00a0Most of these pages only ever use the word Gay. \u00a0Any illustrations are of white people. \u00a0Bisexuals are never mentioned. \u00a0People of colour are never mentioned. \u00a0Intersections of oppression are ignored. \u00a0I ask the group to look at the sheets and tell the others what they want to see changed; how these organisations could do better. \u00a0The participants have lots of ideas. \u00a0I\u2019m happy to see their enthusiasm. \u00a0As soon as the workshop ends, my stomach bunches into painful knots. \u00a0I want to hide in a corner. \u00a0I do exactly that until someone I know spots me.<\/p>\n

I blame myself some days for being raped. \u00a0I feel like I should have known what to do. \u00a0I should have been able to stop it. \u00a0I should have pushed them away. \u00a0I shouldn\u2019t have been frozen in place. \u00a0I shouldn\u2019t have waited until they left and I knew I was safe before I started crying. \u00a0Anxiety makes it difficult to breathe when I think that way. \u00a0Anxiety makes me want to step in front of a bus. \u00a0Somehow I keep on living.<\/p>\n

Twitter and Tumblr have been lifelines for me; when I was in hospital, it kept me in touch with people I know who live thousands of miles away. \u00a0Tumblr in particular lets me see images of people similar to me, all of whom seem to live in the U.S. \u00a0Twitter is great, but it is also chock full of mean people who slip into my mentions with racist, biphobic and sexist trash. \u00a0My block hand is strong. \u00a0But my anxiety is stronger. \u00a0I dread clicking on the little bird symbol most days. \u00a0Sometimes I want to smash my computer into pieces. \u00a0The only thing stopping me is knowing I wouldn\u2019t be able to watch Steven Universe otherwise.<\/p>\n

I was a survivor before I started writing this. \u00a0I\u2019m a survivor when I speak in front of hundreds of people. \u00a0Reading my smutty stories out loud in the past has prepared me well for public speaking. \u00a0But when I\u2019m alone, the anxiety barges in to the front of my mind. \u00a0When I\u2019m in crowds, I want to disappear into the shadows. \u00a0Bisexual activism makes me feel like a confident, competent human. \u00a0It also fills me with despair when I see how aggressive it makes (mostly lesbian and gay) people. \u00a0I stand on the edge of a knife, trying to balance the positive things my activism can do, with the hatred it exposes me to. \u00a0I feel anxiety pushing me on to the blade.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m invited to speak at Totnes Pride in Devon. \u00a0I accept without hesitation.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

<\/p>\n

Trigger Warning: Rape, Suicide, Abuse<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I’ve had depression for most of my life.  I have a diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder and Post Traumatic Distress Syndrome.  But chronic anxiety was something new to me; until 2014, I’d never experienced it.  Anxiety for me wasn’t simply feeling nervous or on edge.  Anxiety felt like a blazing fire behind me, and barrels of oil around me, just waiting to explode.  Anxiety makes me want to run as fast as I can.  It makes me grind my teeth and clench my fists.<\/p>\n

I’m invited to give a talk for a panel on LGBT hate crime at a small London police station.  I’m surrounded by white police officers, most of whom are wearing body armour.  Multiple radios crackle on the table as I clear my throat.  I speak about racism of the police, of how biphobia is different to homophobia.  There is a strange silence around me.  I feel very nervous, but once I start talking I don’t stop until all I’ve wanted to say is done.  The police officers are positive – they ask a lot of questions that show how little they now about biphobia.  I’m happy to answer them with a smile.<\/p>\n

I was raped in 2014.  It was not a first for me.  I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, which carried on into adulthood and only ended when I ran away aged 22.  Shortly after the assault, I got sick.  I had severe abdominal pains that landed me in hospital twice.  The first of these admissions into Casualty happened on the first day of my new job.  I lost my job whilst in hospital.  I also had a breakdown.  Everything seemed to be happening at once.  Chronic anxiety shoved its way into my life, and it hasn’t left.<\/p>\n

I lead a workshop for the British Psychological Society on mental health and LGBT people.  I print out webpages from a few organisations who claim they can help.  Most of these pages only ever use the word Gay.  Any illustrations are of white people.  Bisexuals are never mentioned.  People of colour are never mentioned.  Intersections of oppression are ignored.  I ask the group to look at the sheets and tell the others what they want to see changed; how these organisations could do better.  The participants have lots of ideas.  I’m happy to see their enthusiasm.  As soon as the workshop ends, my stomach bunches into painful knots.  I want to hide in a corner.  I do exactly that until someone I know spots me.<\/p>\n

I blame myself some days for being raped.  I feel like I should have known what to do.  I should have been able to stop it.  I should have pushed them away.  I shouldn’t have been frozen in place.  I shouldn’t have waited until they left and I knew I was safe before I started crying.  Anxiety makes it difficult to breathe when I think that way.  Anxiety makes me want to step in front of a bus.  Somehow I keep on living.<\/p>\n

Twitter and Tumblr have been lifelines for me; when I was in hospital, it kept me in touch with people I know who live thousands of miles away.  Tumblr in particular lets me see images of people similar to me, all of whom seem to live in the U.S.  Twitter is great, but it is also chock full of mean people who slip into my mentions with racist, biphobic and sexist trash.  My block hand is strong.  But my anxiety is stronger.  I dread clicking on the little bird symbol most days.  Sometimes I want to smash my computer into pieces.  The only thing stopping me is knowing I wouldn’t be able to watch Steven Universe otherwise.<\/p>\n

I was a survivor before I started writing this.  I’m a survivor when I speak in front of hundreds of people.  Reading my smutty stories out loud in the past has prepared me well for public speaking.  But when I’m alone, the anxiety barges in to the front of my mind.  When I’m in crowds, I want to disappear into the shadows.  Bisexual activism makes me feel like a confident, competent human.  It also fills me with despair when I see how aggressive it makes (mostly lesbian and gay) people.  I stand on the edge of a knife, trying to balance the positive things my activism can do, with the hatred it exposes me to.  I feel anxiety pushing me on to the blade.<\/p>\n

I’m invited to speak at Totnes Pride in Devon.  I accept without hesitation.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":11,"featured_media":1211,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[216,419,420,4,9,133,303,279],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2886","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-activism","category-anxiety","category-anxious","category-biphobia","category-bisexual","category-bisexuality","category-depression","category-racism"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bimedia.org\/blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2886","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bimedia.org\/blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bimedia.org\/blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bimedia.org\/blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/11"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bimedia.org\/blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2886"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bimedia.org\/blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2886\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bimedia.org\/blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1211"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bimedia.org\/blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2886"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bimedia.org\/blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2886"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bimedia.org\/blogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2886"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}