I Was 19 by Ms Caitlin Johnstone!
(2023-07-05 at 18:43:15 )

I Was 19 by Ms Caitlin Johnstone!

Listen to a reading of this article (reading by Caitlin Johnstone):

I was 19 the first time I was raped.

Backpacking through Europe, drugged, woke up being sodomised over a toilet bowl in some Italian hotel bathroom.

Blood everywhere.

Memories were fuzzy through whatever it was he slipped me, but I recall fumbling with the doorknob trying to get out, unable to understand why it was not opening, then looking down and seeing that he had his foot up against the bottom of the door.

Earlier that day I had felt like I was flying. Here I was, traveling in Europe just like a grownup, making it work somehow even in a country where I did not speak the language.

"I am doing it! I can do it! My god, I can really do it!"

I was going to be an artist. I loved to paint. Teacher told me I should try to get some life experience before going to art school, so out I went to get some. My god did I get some motherf-cking life experience!!

Came home from Europe and immediately got into an abusive relationship, with a man who would use my talents to get him as much money, as much female attention, and as much professional clout as possible. He got me pregnant right after one of the times I tried to leave him.

I did not paint.

I turned 26 the day after my daughter was born. I was terrified. I loved her so much I wanted her to have a better mother than me!!

"Can I do it? Can I do it? Dear god, please help me do it!"

I gained a lot of weight, and I kept it on. Made me feel secure. Invisible. Like even if I can not do it, even if I f-ck up royally at life and completely drop the ball, at least I will not wake up in a blood-smeared bathroom being sodomised over a toilet by a man who will not let me leave.

Now I am 48. I am healing, and I have grown strong.

Through a strange series of miracles and unexpected rabbit holes, I have found myself in a situation where complete strangers from all around the world give me money to share my thoughts on things.

And I have begun painting again, after all these years. Just sold a few pieces at auction. And it has been bringing up some old feelings.

"I am doing it! I can do it! My god, I am really doing it!"

And my bum has started hurting. I have been having shooting pains radiating from right where that bastard stuck me all those years ago. Smacking me out of the air in my state of teenage exuberance. Breaking my wings. Breaking my paintbrush.

People keep asking me to do interviews, but I prefer to stay more hidden. Makes me feel secure. Invisible.

I do not know why I am sharing this with you right now. I guess I can only write what is coming up for me on a given day, and this is definitely what is front and center for me at this moment.

I am going to keep healing. I am going to keep growing stronger. I am going to keep painting. I may even do interviews one day.

I do not know where this ride is headed, but I am very happy I am on it.

I am really glad to be alive you guys!

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