Victim Impact Statement (names of villages omitted to protect the victim's identity) Asked to please share

My life has changed since I was sexually abused. My attitude got worse. It never used to be this bad. I get grumpy so easily and I don’t know why. Little things make me upset and I never used to be that sensitive. My grades dropped. I used to get mostly A’s and now I have a lot of difficulty in school. I don’t always get good grades anymore and I was barely passing any of my classes. I feel like I have to be careful with people. I don’t trust people well anymore. Guys are often scary to be around and it’s hard to trust them because I never know what may happen.
I think about it a lot. It makes me have low self-esteem because of what happened. I feel like everyone knows what happened to me, especially when I go out. Sometimes I feel guilty about what happened, even though I know it wasn’t my fault. I feel angry, mad, and disgusted when I think about it. I trusted him and he took that all away. It hurts me to think about what he did to me.
It has made things hard on my family. I know that it hurts my mom, grandma, and sisters to see me go through this. Sometimes I get anxiety about it. I have trouble breathing sometimes and my mom thinks that they are anxiety attacks. These started happening after the abuse occurred. My family had to move from
xxxxx to Bethel because of what happened. After the abuse started happening I felt depressed. I just didn’t feel like myself anymore.
I started staying home after the abuse began. I used to always go out with friends before that. I was scared. I didn’t like when he was around. I was scared to be alone at home and with him. I would call a friend to talk or I would read so that I wouldn’t feel unsafe or isolated. I always think I’m ugly now. I remember when I was younger I used to think I was pretty. I find so many things that are wrong with me. I think these self-hating feelings started after I was abused.

Saturday

Walk a mile in my shoes, would you have made it?

One of the hardest things for me growing up, up until the day I spoke up about my uncle, was going to my Grandmother's house, which was a daily thing. I truly LIVED NEXT DOOR TO MY ATTACKER. I can speak about this from experience. Every day of my life I had to face him and act as though nothing was wrong, but believe me, every time I laid eyes on him, I had thoughts of doing things no person should ever think. I literally would have to converse with the person on a regular basis as though nothing was ever wrong. The hatred that it created was much too great to explain in writing. I was always on edge, and always felt like he was about to do something to me. Some nights, I would fantasize about the ways that I could kill him. About how easy it would be to do one of the nights he drank himself into a drunken stupor. Thankfully, I never acted on it.
We as a community can prevent so much tragedy and heartache by simply speaking up. We can stop these people from victimizing others, we can empower other people to speak up. There is NO  reason to try and silence the victims or to defend their attackers, family or not! What they are doing is wrong and creates a lifetime of heartache, which will go on to create even more problems in the future. Telling a victim to be hush about what happened or saying they are making it up, is doing nothing but further victimizing that person.
I myself had many serious issues that I know aren't all directly related to what happened, but I'm sure some of my actions were my way of acting out because I was so full of hatred and had no where to direct it.
We should all place ourselves in the victims shoes, think about how hard it must be to live your life day to day going face to face with someone who did such things to you, and how it must feel to know that if you say anything, that you may rid yourself of your attacker, but you must still face those who turned on you for doing what was right, knowing that there is no way around it. Think about it.

Child Molestation, final piece

So at school I started to be mad at everyone and never wanted to do anything. We were walking in line to the gym one day and I did not want to go. The teacher aide was like come on , why are you being so slow? At that point I remembered being taught about "good touch, bad touch" so I busted out crying and told her. She mocked me. She repeated what I said with a sneer and with high pitched whiny voice and said hurry up. I never spoke up again.
Soon we were brought to Seattle to be reunited with our parents, and I never told my father. I often thought of him beating my sister's boyfriend almost to death and for some reason did not want him to do the same to my uncle.
As the years go by I continue keeping this inside. I would only wear clothes that were wayyy too big for me. I would not let my mother fix my hair. I did NOT want to be attractive in any way. Before I would go to sleep at night, I would surround myself with chairs and other big objects so that I could hear if anyone came near me.
In the fourth grade, I started to get very sick, I would throw up every time I ate, my stomach was always hurting. I lost about 15 pounds on my already tiny body. My parents kept bringing me to the hospital in Bethel, and the doctors always said the same thing. I was faking it. One day I threw up dark thick blood, so my parents pooled up enough money to take me to Anchorage. While there I got an endoscopy and it was discovered that I had bleeding ulcers. The doctor knew right away and brought me to a room and asked me point blank. I broke out in tears and did not say anything still.
I was given medication that helped, and sent back home.
As the years go by, I am told by other relatives that the same uncle was doing the same things to them. This infuriated me as I was the oldest cousin.
Soon at 17 I was ready to go off to college. I start thinking, I'm never coming back anyways, and I called up the Alaska State Troopers and speak up. I tell them everything, including what he is doing to my cousins. After I spoke up, some of my cousins also told. Other's did not.
About a week later, I stopped at my Grandmother's house and my uncle was standing there reading his indictment. He yelled at me, "why did you say these things about me? I'm going to go to jail for a long time!" I yelled back, "cause that's what you did to me you sick fuck! Your ass was probably even too drunk to remember!" Then my Grandmother came out of her room and yelled at me too. Saying that we shouldn't say those things about family members, we should always keep the peace. I stormed out mad and hurt as ever. How could my grandmother think that this was OK? I soon leave off for college. My Grandmother and I don't speak for years. About two years after my uncle was arrested and convicted, he had the fucking nerve to call me. He told me that if I didn't forgive him I was going to go to hell. I also got a Christmas card from him, telling me that he confessed his sins to God and that if I forgive him it was a sin. WTF?!?
But I felt a new sense of freedom knowing that he was paying for what he did, not only to me, but for what he did to my younger relatives as well. I felt empowered. At about 23 I called my Grandmother, and asked her why she thought that was OK. I was crying and she apologized. We now are very close and she understands.

Why?

Since I have started this blog, I have received hundreds of emails from both natives and non-natives describing their own suicide attempts or telling the stories of loved ones who have succumbed to suicide. I can honestly say that every story was very unique. Some were bullied, some were having serious family issues, others suffered depression, and many were sexually assaulted. The one thing that seemed to keep popping out is that they did not talk about what they were feeling or going through. In many stories, the writer speaks of crying themselves to sleep alone at night, and feeling that they had no one to talk to.
So this makes me think of some of the things that we are taught growing up. Don't cry too much for loved ones that have passed. Right or wrong? It depends on who you ask. Forgive. What if we aren't really ready to forgive? Should we be allowed to show anger to those who have wronged us? Is it this quick forgiveness that makes sexual predators think that it's OK to do what they do? I know that when my attacker was in jail, he actually had the nerve to call me and tell me that if I didn't forgive him I was going to hell!
Regardless, I have been trying and trying to figure out what it is about Alaska Natives that makes us more susceptible to suicide? I have heard many, many theories since starting this blog, ranging from bullying, to easy access to firearms. Will we ever have an answer?
I also found out that contrary to popular belief, most suicides occur in the spring. The reason being is that depressed people are thinking differently than non-depressed people in the spring. When the rest of us are enjoying the longer days and enjoying the spring, they are unhappy. While everyone around them seem super happy, they feel like their life is super crappy and seeing everyone else full of joy makes them feel even worse. So in conclusion I would like to say that with the longer days coming up, please pay close attention to those around you. There are warning signs that most people will exhibit, especially if they have attempted suicide before.
Warning signs that someone may be thinking about or planning to commit suicide include:

• Always talking or thinking about death
• Clinical depression -- deep sadness, loss of interest, trouble sleeping and eating -- that gets worse
• Having a "death wish," tempting fate by taking risks that could lead to death, such as driving fast or running red lights
• Losing interest in things one used to care about
• Making comments about being hopeless, helpless, or worthless
• Putting affairs in order, tying up loose ends, changing a will
• Saying things like "it would be better if I wasn't here" or "I want out"
• Sudden, unexpected switch from being very sad to being very calm or appearing to be happy
• Talking about suicide or killing one's self
• Visiting or calling people to say goodbye