Who needs help?

Who needs help?

In publicly discussing child sexualization, child sexual abuse, and child trafficking, I have struggled with a specific obstacle for many years. How does one write about CSA in an informative manner without feeling like such words can be easily misused by predators?  Writing/speaking about CSA is necessary, if there is ever going to be a change in the constant re-exploitation so many of these survivors are currently forced to experience.  But the reality of sickos getting off on such words is a huge fucking barrier for those who might otherwise try to speak up.

I recently spent a couple of days with three members of one of my old recovery groups, debriefing and spitballing ideas about my current endeavor to shine light on a subject deeply personal to me. It is one of these friends who pointed out that over the years, I seem to have developed a manner of writing about this subject where I sometimes let anger and sarcasm be an underlying part of my words.  It's probably my attempt to try and keep prurient enjoyment less likely for any predators who might be reading.  I was told that writing in this manner may make others care even less about those being abused in real time, if my writing comes across as "angry."  I can see how this may infuence readers to subconsciously view survivors in a negative light. That's not what I am trying to accomplish.  

I asked some other survivors for any input regarding better methods of communicating this subject matter in a way that couldn't be so easily "enjoyed" by predators.  So far, the answers I have gotten make it clear no one else has solved this issue, either.  In fact, this obstacle may be part of the larger issue of sexual re-exploitation continuing unchecked. This subject matter is hard enough to talk about, without having to realize how many predators may be listening in.  There is most likely no way to avoid saying these words in a manner that risks being a turn on for some fucked up adults. Survivors will never receive help in greater numbers, if more is not said about it.  I'm hamstrung between trying to wake people up to what children are being forced to go thru this moment, while not wanting to give some fuckhead fodder for flogging.  I don't know how to walk this line in an acceptable manner, yet. If I am making others feel less compassion for children being assaulted this second, I may need to consciously try and keep anger from infusing my words, and accept that sickos will get off on this subject, and I can't do a damn thing about it, unless I go back to being silent.  That's no longer acceptable to me.

I also realized something else this past weekend. My friends knew me from an addiction recovery group. We knew how to share real talk. But not one of them knew details of my CSA history.  As they have been reading my words written in this blog, it has been very unsettling for them. They were more upset by reading all of my words than I am.  I've had 9 years letting all of this out here. I can finally talk about my history with a sense of strength, and am no longer destroyed by emotionally encaged demons.  My friends know how differently I live my life, now, so they knew I wasn't in need of help getting over my past.  But a lot of people who are reading this blog don't seem to understand I am not looking for help to heal me.  Help already happened for me, when I quit trying to trust any human one-on-one, and just let this shit start coming out here 9 years ago.  Yes, I still experience darkness, and pain created by decades wasted on trying to get help from conventional therapy.  I live with my history my own way, now, and know how to stay safe from re-exploitation by helpers, which was always what left me suffering a deep desire for death.  I can handle the memories and darkness by writing.  I can't handle any more "help" from another support person.  However upsetting it may feel to read my words, I'm not that child anymore.  I am finally protecting her from being sexually misused and abandoned over and over.  That's what she needed. 

My pain now comes from seeing others at risk of suicide, because they are exactly where I once was decades ago, in the middle of first being re-exploited by sexual predators in sheeps clothing.  Some of these damaged young survivors will die because of this re-exploitation cycle they are caught in. I am speaking up for them, because that is the only thing that might have once helped me back then, when I was in their shoes.  I don't need help for me.  They need help.  For them.