Numb...

I feel numb. Literally, figuratively, all "ly's". Today has been a day of ups and downs starting with my pouring an entire cup of coffee down my stomach then trying to carry ten things at once and dropping my house keys before getting the door open. Things got better for a little while, I mean, it is my day off so there has to be some good to come of today, but then they went back to shit. I don't really feel like going into all of it right now because I am still a little too pissed off and I need to calm down before expressing my feelings through the written word, but yeah... Back to the numbness. In order to try and calm myself down and collect my thoughts I decided to go on a drive. I've explained in the past how driving helps me clear my head and ultimately make me forget the bull shit and relax. Tonight I went on a drive. In 57 degree weather with all the windows rolled down driving on the freeway in a tank top and shorts. As crazy as that all sounds, it definitely helped clear my mind. But also made me completely numb. I'm going to keep this post short and sweet because as I thaw out I'm starting to feel my anger build back up and I don't need that to happen again. There are so many things on my mind I haven't had time to sort through it all. I'm going to lose it pretty soon. With that said, I will definitely be posting some more rants and raves on here in the near future. (I know I said that a while ago, but I got busy with work. Yes, I actually have a real job. Crazy madness.) To those of you who still actually read this thing, thanks for being there for me through all my insanity and I hope y'all have a fabulous night!


Sometimes you are falling so slowly...

...you don't notice until you hit the ground.

Day Four... (Sad Song)

My Boys, Montgomery and Gentry. Montgomery wrote this song about his dad and his son...

Clouds

The song that makes me the saddest is "Clouds" by Montgomery Gentry. It makes me sad in a surreal way. Every word of the song pulls at my heart strings so hard I'm scared they're going to break. The song is about loved ones looking down on you from heaven. All in all it's a wonderful song. But if you listen to it you need to have a box of tissues right next to you.

"I hate sunny days nothing but empty blue skies...

...so I pray Ohh how I pray for clouds."

Montgomery Gentry

Day Sixteen... (Inspiration)

My Mom holding me...

I find my mom to be the most inspiring person I know. There are so many reasons that this woman is someone whom I look up to. She has been through so much in her life and has never wavered or taken a wrong path. She is the most honest and respectful person I've ever known. She has suffered through a lot of horrible things, seen many horrific events, and had to deal with me for many years. I can't comprehend how she did it all without falling off the beaten path, like I myself did a few too many times. I look up to her and some day hope that I will have the strength, independence, work-ethic, and smarts that she has. God already knows I have her personality down to a T.

I love you so much Mommy...

...Thanks for being such an inspiration in my life.

There are no words...

So many things have been going on lately that there are no words to describe all of the things I am feeling. I did something really stupid tonight (not illegal or crazy. I just have a guilt gut about the little things and my guilt gut is about to kill me) but I can't talk about it for fear that it will get out and upset the people whom I love and care about most.

Everything seems to be happening all at once. The good and the bad. My family has gone to shit. Everyone is crazy, stressed, and depressed. School is getting down to the wire of being done. I'm hanging out with one of my really good friends again, who I think I'm starting to have feelings for again which scares me. For some reason I'm still in love with the one that got away (even though he treated me like the biggest piece of shit ever).

I'm confused. I'm hurt. I'm lost. I'm speechless with no words...

Things seem to be getting better with hanging out with my friend from the past. He's a great guy. I can be myself around him with no problem. But we have such a tumultuous history that I am afraid of what might happen so I don't want to get too close. I'm tired of having my heart broken repeatedly.

Losing my family has been absolutely horrible. And mostly horrible for my mom. But I won't put up with the bull shit anymore nor do I think anyone else should have to. I don't know what I did to one person in particular, especially since I've always been there for him, but honestly, kiss my ass is how I feel at the moment.

School is coming to an end which can be a good thing because I will be graduating, FINALLY, but I am scared to finally be thrown into the real world. There are so many things I still need to do in order to follow my dreams and I'm scared that I don't have the ability to get myself to that point. I've been put down so much in my life, and hurt by so many that my self confidence is at a negative.

In regards to the dumb ass thing I did tonight, it needs to never happen again. I feel absolutely horrible because it's a disappointment to me and those that matter. I don't know why I did it and refuse to give excuses for my poor behavior.

I feel as though I'm losing myself again in this deep dark place called depression and there is nothing that scares me so much as this. I don't have the energy to pick myself back up if I happen to fall into the pit of self pity and overwhelming sadness.

I just wish I had my family and friends back like the olden days when things were easy and everyone was innocent without drama and concern about the problems of every day life. Hopefully things will turn around and get better.

My idea of a good psychiatrist is...

...a bartender who pours without a spout



(Disclaimer: Well writing this kind of helped. I think. If anyone happens to read this, please don't freak out and think it's all over. I know God only dishes out things he knows we can handle, so God must think I'm a badass, which in all honesty, I am. So here goes...)

And lastly, if anyone has a problem with anything that I said, please grow a pair and take it up with me like an adult instead of running your mouth to other people. I own everything I say and do, and don't try and hide it. So please please please, let ME know if you have issues. Thank you.

Not waiting around for the storm to pass...

I posted on here saying how this blog is to be used as a way of gaining strength. Being empowered to do anything, and try and shed some light on the things that seem most negative in life. I however am not a very positive, strong, empowered individual. Well, at least not all the time.

Life has taught me that it's not always going to be full of sunshine and rainbows. There will always be obstacles you must face whether you want to or not. For this is where i draw my strength from in knowing that whether or not I feel prepared to face something head on I have no choice but to go forth and do so. With that said, there are the days where I feel as though I am nothing. I have nothing, and I will never be able to have anything.

Today has started out as one of those days. A few years ago I started dating someone who I was completely and madly in love with. He was a drug addict/alcoholic. I supported him in every way I thought possible which included going to AA meetings with him on a daily basis. I myself am not really one for drinking so my attending these meetings was purely for moral support. Or at least that's what I thought.

I have met a lot of people in my life. The diversity is astonishing, not just in race and religion, but also in class (lower,middle, upper). At these meetings I met this man who had lost everything. His house, his friends, his family, his dauther, his hope, and his will to live. He turned to the bottle and the needle to try and fill that void we all sometimes feel. It of course didn't help. This man lives under a bridge in campbell with a few other people. They sleep next to each other for maximum warmth. He doesn't ask for money, ever, and when I tried to give him some he actually paid me back the next day from money he got from the recycling center. (I in turn spent the money on getting him coffee and some chips and a pack of smokes).

But the point is this man, who has no home, no family, lost all legal ability to see his daughter, made me understand the value of life. He told me "how would you know the good days if you didn't have the bad ones." That simple sentence coming from someone who once had given up hope on life and everything else changed the way of my thinking ever since.

So yeah, today has been an incredibly shitty day. Hell, this past year has been incredibly shitty. I may not always be strong, empowered, and have a cheery disposition. But I do know that having a bad day means eventually I'll have a good one and I'll actually know for a fact that it's good.
If anyone actually reads these things that I post, I want you to know it's okay to have a shitty day/week/month/year. Because eventually you'll have that one day that will be worth having had to put up with all those shitty ones to begin with. Negativity is a part of life. But without the negative there wouldn't be a positive.

So today I'm not waiting for the storm to pass...

...I'm learning how to dance in the rain

It's been a while...

 

If tears could build a stairway,
And memories a lane,
I'd walk right up to Heaven
And bring you home again.

Today marks the one year anniv. of the passing of the most wonderful woman. I don't have much to say that I haven't said already but I would like to give credit where credit is due. And on this day all the credit, love, and respect is due to this woman. Forever in our hearts, memories, and souls.

Things will never be the same but hopefully soon I will be able to smile when I think of you instead of cry. The pain is still there every day. Even though it's been a year it feels like not a day has gone by since you were taken away. I love you Aunt Buddy.

It's been a while...

...but not long enough

Fiat Justitia

(I wrote this paper for my sexual assault investigation class last semester. My teacher was so impressed that she decided to have it published. This is my story. No holding back. I tell it like it is. Some may not appreciate it, but this story to me explains why I am who I am today. This story also gives the reason for why I want to become a sexual assault detective.) 

     

 

 

 

 

                                  Age of Innocence

 

 

 

            I was born March 13^th, 1987 in San Jose, California at Good Samaritan hospital to two great, wonderful, loving, emotionally supportive parents. I started school at the age of three, where I began attending Hillbrook in Los Gatos, California. I graduated eighth grade in a class of thirty-two where I knew everyone since I was three years old. 

            I went from the sheltered life of private school, and having known the same people eleven years out of my fourteen years of life, to a public school where I knew no one and the rules of society were different. 

            I quickly made great friends that I still have to this day, and maintained a pretty high grade point average for my first few semesters of attending Leigh High School. Even though everything was so new and different to me, I tried to make the best of it and integrate myself into the new world that I had to become accustom to.

            A lot of aspects of my teenage years are a blur to me as I have blocked them out of my mind to avoid any further pain being inflicted upon me. I don’t know if it was the hormones, the new environment I was being subjected to, or just pure stupidity, but things started to change quickly, and not for the better.

            I wasn’t into the drug scene, I wasn’t one of the kids that enjoyed ditching school, or smoking off campus just to annoy the on campus officers, I was a law abiding, goody-two-shoes kind of girl.

            I was born an only child and have been used to being on my own and have learned how to entertain myself very easily. For some reason boredom hit me like a ton of bricks and I looked to guys for comfort. I was raised in a household where sex is something you have after you have fallen in love and are married. My mother has only had sex with one person in her whole life, my dad, and they have been married for 35 years. I have always admired my mother for this and have wanted to emulate her in every way possible. I had no intentions of having sex or giving up my virginity to anyone. Especially not at the tender age of fifteen.

Good Times Gone Awry

            Late one night I was hanging out in the apartment that’s attached to my parents house (it’s where my grandma used to live before she died) watching television by myself.  A few months prior my uncle had broken in after having been arrested for attacking my parents because he was high on cocaine. So I knew that being in the apartment late at night wasn’t the safest and smartest decision, but I really wanted my privacy and to simply be alone (without parents) while I watched television.  I had decided to invite a "friend" over to hang out with me and watch a movie  because let's be honest, it's just way more fun to watch movies with friends. He was someone I trusted. Because back then I trusted everyone even if I didn't know them. When he showed up the situation took a different turn than I thought it would. I answered the door with a smile on my face ready to invite him in to hang out. He had that look on his face where you know something just isn't right. I stood in shock and not knowing what to do I turned around and looked for comfort in what used to be my grandma’s room. 

            A lot of things are a blur to me of what exactly happened on that night, but I remember he forced himself upon me while I did everything I could to make him stop. I put up a fight verbally and physically with no avail.  He was 6’3” 230lbs. I was 5’4” 180lbs.  He was twenty-six years old. I was fifteen.

            I was raped that night. Against my will I had my virginity taken away from me within the blink of an eye for no reason that I could figure out. As soon as he had finished with me he left me alone in the apartment where I lay for hours staring at the ceiling wondering what had just happened and how to deal with it.

            The next day I told my parents what had happened. They were upset, pissed off, and in utter shock. The only thing they did was taking away my Internet access and my phone privileges. Yeah, because that was the cause of the problem. (I did have a problem where I'd meet people off of the internet because I didn't feel comfortable socializing in the real world. But taking it away wasn't going to solve the problem. Only made it escalate)  To this day I don’t know what they were trying to accomplish by doing those things or if they were just too scared to realize and admit to themselves what had just happened to me. Maybe they just didn't know how to handle it. God knows this wasn't a normal occurrence.  Either way I saw that they weren’t going to help me in the way that I needed so I turned to the only other adult I trusted. My P.E. teacher.  I guess she told the school counselor and then the police were contacted, because the next thing I knew I was being pulled out of class without warning.

Reality v. Law

            I was pulled out of English class by two police detectives. They were dressed in nice attire with their badges hooked on their belt loops. I was embarrassed, appalled, and confused that I was not only being taken out of my class, but in front of the entire classroom and my teacher by two detectives who I hadn’t even known had been informed about my rape. We ended up going to the conference room where they would interrogate me over and over again until they finally realized that I was telling the same story.  I was told they would contact me within the next couple of days and another police officer would come to talk to me.

            A few days later I was once again removed from my class by the same two detectives to go and talk in the conference room. This time they had another officer with them who was going to take my story and then transport me to Valley Medical Center where I would have a rape kit done and evidence taken.

            After I was introduced to the officer the two detectives left and said they’d be in contact with me if they found any new information. By this time I had given them a full description of the man (name, race, height, even a picture) and they were trying to contact him to question him.  The officer I was left with asked me a few questions about what had happened and said he needed to take me to Valley Medical Center to have a rape kit done.  We proceeded to walk outside, and by this time the last bell had rung so all of the kids were out of classes and walking towards the front lawn, and he escorted me to his patrol car. I was placed in the backseat of the police vehicle while all of my friends stood around watching including some of my neighbors that I went to school with. I hadn’t told a single person what had happened to me so I can only imagine what thoughts were going through their heads when they witnessed me getting into the back of a police car. 

            I was taken to Valley Medical Center to the portable section in the back. I was scared, alone, and didn’t know what was going on. I asked repeatedly for my mom to be contacted so at least I would have someone there with me who I was comfortable with. My request was never even entertained.

            The rape kit was taken and I was given a pill that they told me was the morning after pill. At that time I had no idea what the morning after pill was, but figured if a nurse was giving it to me than it must be okay. I left the room feeling angry, upset and confused and when I opened the door sitting in the waiting chairs was my mom. She was furious. She had been sitting in the waiting room for over an hour because no one would tell her where I was and they wouldn’t let her see me. She became even more furious when she found out that they had given her fifteen-year-old daughter the morning after pill without her consent and without my knowledge of what it was.

            I have learned over the years and in this sexual assault investigation class that you must be given the option of having a same sex officer to take your report. I was never given that option. I have also learned that you are allowed to have someone in the room with you when you are being examined for the rape kit. I was never given that option. I have also learned that officers should be discreet when dealing with the victim. That wasn’t what happened with me seeing as I was pulled out of class on more than one occasion by two detectives and then put into the back of a police vehicle in front of the entire student body of Leigh High School.  I also learned that you are supposed to be given an advocate or someone that you can talk to from the rape crisis center. That was never an option given to me. I have also learned through this class and many other Administration of Justice classes that when a rape or sexual assault occurs, the victim needs to be taken to the hospital as soon as possible to collect evidence. I wasn’t taken to the hospital for almost a week after the incident had occurred and after the detectives had been informed about my case.

End Result

            A few weeks after having been taken to Valley Medical Center for the rape exam, I received a phone call from the two detectives who initially spoke to me at the beginning of the case. They had contacted the man who raped me.  He said he was willing to take a lie detector test to prove his innocence.  I told the detective’s that was fine with me and I would be most willing to do the same. They told me that wasn’t necessary. A few days after that I was given the results of the rape kit. They had found dried semen on my inner thigh matching the DNA of the man who had raped me.  The detectives told me it wasn’t enough evidence, and that they couldn’t move forward with the case.  I felt ashamed, alone, depressed, and totally lost. 

            The detectives once again came to my school, pulled me out of class, and questioned me one last time in the conference room. I answered the questions the same way I had the first two times with nothing changing in my story. They had the man, they had evidence, they had my story, what more did they need from me?  The detectives tried to make me feel bad and intimidate me by telling me that if I went through with pressing charges and took that man to court then he would have to register as a sex offender for the rest of his life and I could really ruin anything he had going for him. So? Why do I care what a rapist will have to go through by registering as a sex offender?

            I remember this part more clearly than I do any other day or event from my lifetime. The detectives turned to face each other, then both looked at me and one of them had the nerve to tell me that I was just a fifteen year old girl who was trying to cause trouble because the guy had sex with me and then didn’t want anything to do with me so I got angry and made up the entire thing.

            It’s my understanding that as an officer or even as a decent human being you don’t tell someone that they are just being a hormonal teenager and trying to ruin someone’s life for revenge.

            In the end the case went dead, justice was never served, the rapist is living his life somewhere, and the day my virginity was taken away from me without consent was the day my soul died.

Aftermath

            I ended up joining the P.E.A.T. (Peers Against Abstinence Team) team at Leigh High School. It helped for a little while. To listen to others tell their story. And see how it helped them when they spoke. But when it came to my turn to tell my story to the class I couldn’t seem to do it.  After having told the detectives my story, and being judged for something that I didn’t even ask to have happen to me, I was never able to retell my story to anyone ever again. Getting up in front of a classroom to speak was the worst thing for me because I always felt as though I was being judged and ridiculed. That I was just the same fifteen year old girl who made things up to ruin other people’s lives.

            I was expelled from Leigh High School halfway through my Junior year because I refused to speak in front of class, do any homework that involved presenting, and then finally stopped showing up to school because of the rumors. I was sent to Boynton High School where I transferred into ISP (Independent Studies Program) so I could work on my own time and by myself without having to constantly feel judged and threatened.         

            I believe that everything happens for a reason whether good or bad. Getting raped, losing all of my friends, and being expelled from high school might not be such great things. But I do believe that those things are the major things that influenced the person I am today. And without those experiences I wouldn’t have the knowledge and understanding that I now possess.

            I have wanted to be a police officer ever since I was three years old. After what happened to me, I have decided that I want to do something help victims of sexual assault. I want to be there for the men, women, and children who need someone they can trust and turn to with their problems.

            The law might say one thing, but that doesn’t mean that the people who are supposed to uphold the law are actually following through with it. I learned that the hard way. On multiple occasions.

            At first the way the detectives treated me, it deterred me from wanting to follow my dreams of becoming an officer of the law seeing as they were cold-hearted assholes that were only interested in themselves and blaming the victims. But then I realized that if the world has people like those two in law enforcement then I need to follow my heart, hopes, and dreams and become a better influence and balance out of the negativity that people like them are producing in this world.

            This class has shown me a lot of different directions I can take my passion in whether it is into law enforcement or in social work. I want to help the victims in a way that I wish I had been helped so they don’t go down the same path of destruction that I went down in trying to bury myself instead of living my life.

            It took me a long time to find myself again.  Almost eight years.  I live in the apartment that I was raped in. I sleep in the bedroom every night that I was forced to have sexual intercourse and have my virginity taken away from me in one fell swoop in.  I live in a place where I am surrounded by my inner demons and past reality. But I have learned how to control the hurt, the pain, and sometimes the anger.  I want to be there for other people who have been or are going through the same things that I have went through.  No one should have to suffer from someone else’s wrong doings. And no one should have to suffer alone.

(I need to add that my parents are great people. They have never had to deal with anything of this nature and I don't blame them at all for not knowing how to deal with it. I myself didn't know how to handle it and at the time I was a teenager with a lot of problems who in all honesty didn't want help. So thank you to the people who were actually there for me. I appreciate it more than you will ever know.)

Reason

The reason for why I decided to name my blog S(HE)  BE(LIE)VE(D) was because that's what brought me to where I am today. I didn't make this blog so I can cry about what I've lost and wish I could go back and do things differently. No. I made this blog so I can remember the good, the bad, and what made me who I am today.

I've lost many things and many people in my life. Mostly for the better. I did believe. He did lie. To clarify he was a drug addict/alcoholic/compulsive liar who not only slept with my neighbor, cousin, some random chick, but also my best friend of 14yrs. Some of you may know who she is. But it doesn't matter.

I believed in the good in people. I believed everyone deserved a second chance. I believed karma would bring you the joy and happiness you deserved if you were bringing joy and happiness to the world yourself. He lied and showed me there isn't good in people. He lied and showed me no matter how many chances I give he will never change. He lied and showed me that karma will bite you on the ass for the smallest infidelity no matter the amount of good.

I went through a lot in the three years I was with him and those people. I stopped believing. I stopped believing in the human race. I stopped believing in my friends. I stopped believing in my family. I stopped believing in myself.

In the end it became me who was lying. I lied to myself about who he really was. I lied to myself about how a best friend would never do that to me. I lied to myself that I didn't care. I lied to myself that I wasn't worth it.

I digress...

Today I no longer lie. I only believe. I believe that I am worth it. I believe that I can do whatever I set my mind to. I believe that I will finish school, finish the academy, and follow my dreams and become a police officer. I believe that I can help people. I believe that one day I will have faith and trust again. Most importantly I believe in myself and will never let that be taken away again.

This blog is about strength, passion, understanding, and the ability to move on and do things for yourself/myself, and not letting anyone bring you/me down. I believe in following my dreams, living my life to the fullest, and doing what I want to do.

He did lie...

...but I still believe.

Love You. Miss You. Need You.

Yesterday I received a text message from my cousin saying "It's been almost a year and not a day goes by that you don't cross my mind. Days have turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. For someone who thought she touched very few lives you have touched so many. I miss you so much. Love You. Miss You. Need You."
Getting a text like that from my 23yr old, 6'1", beer drinkin, gun totin, redneck of a cousin hit me in the heart like a sack of potatoes being shot out of a cannon.
In six days it will be my aunt's birthday. In exactly a week after that it will be the one year anniversary of her death. She was my aunt, his grandma, my mom's sister and best friend. She was someones mother, daughter, wife, grandmother, friend, aunt, everything a person can be to another person.
Many people have been lost in my family. Average 1/yr as sad as that may seem it's true. But I don't think any have had the same impact in such a huge way as this.

I've never done this blogging stuff before so it's all new to me, but I would like to dedicate this first post to the woman who meant the world to so many. The woman who took care of me when I was first born because my mom was too sick. The woman who became my aunt Buddy while everyone else called her aunt Darlene. The woman who made me egg salad because I am one of the pickiest eaters ever. The woman who made scrapbooks so we could all remember our lives and share the memories with other loved ones. 

The woman who will never be forgotten and will always remain in our hearts.

Love You. Miss You. Need You.

Darlene Huddleston 10/19/1944-10/26/2009








(I decided to post a link to this on facebook just to get it out there that I have a blog or what not. My cousin clicked the like button which I wasn't suprised about. But then he commented on the link. "Thank you." Those two words held so much meaning to me that even though this is my post, my blog, my words that I wrote, I started crying immediately. So thank you family, friends, loved ones, and constant reader for giving me the opportunity to write about the legacy of a great woman. Until next time, Thank You.)