I Am Not A Survivor, I Am A Warrior

Yes I was sexually abused.

While the “common terminology” is “sexual assault survivor” I don’t feel like I survived.

I feel like a survivor overcame it all. the obstacles. the bad. the challenges. but I don’t feel like I’ve done that.

Everyday I still fight. Sometimes it is hard to get out of bed. 

Sometimes, I don’t want to get out of bed. but I push myself to do it.

Everyday I fight the urge to cry. because I am tired of crying. I am tired of thinking about HIM. I am so DONE with it all. I hate crying over it. and while I know that crying is GOOD. Sometimes, I just don’t want to cry. 

Everyday I fight this society the deems me as a criminal for being undocumented. That will blame ME for being assaulted.

Everyday I push myself to be happy. I have to remind myself to breathe. to eat. to laugh. to smile. and sometimes, fuck it, I don’t want to.

I haven’t survived.

I still have nightmares. I still have flashbacks. my journal is filled with hate letters towards HIM. hate letters towards myself. love letters towards myself that I sometimes don’t even believe when I reread them.

I still cry myself to sleep. I still struggle with my body. I break down whenever I read the news about other assaults. I break down when others tell me they’ve also been abused.  

For me, to survive is to have WON the race. However, I feel that I am still running.

I have a long way to go in order to heal. in order to be OKAY.

I am still fighting.

I am not weak.

I am a warrior.