Loud Mouth Brown Girl

My circle knows my story.

They know that when I was a kid my mom’s best friend married a serial rapist and cult leader, who then went on to hurt thousands of women across several continents. He has been in prison for 125 years. I did not make this up, the law is on my side when it comes to this man and the crimes he committed, including but not limited to:

• Rape
• Torture
• Cult leadership
• Branding his victims
• Selling his victims
• Stealing from his victims both in time, money, and spiritual energy but also bodily autonomy.

This man has been charged, and proven guilty of these crimes and many more, and will continue to face Justice for the crimes he committed, and I am certain that as the details start to come out – and they eventually will – I will be vindicated.

All of that being said, it’s been complicated to advocate for myself, with mental health professionals who are choosing despite all the facts being in my favor, that I am lying, purely because they don’t have experience with patients like myself.

I am tired.

I shouldn’t be this tired, and the answer to “I deal with trauma nightmares because of what was done to me,” shouldn’t have to be “well let’s just up your medication then you won’t think about it.”

I blocked out what happened to me for years, which is precisely why I got raped again, if I hadn’t blocked it out the rest wouldn’t have happened, but I can’t control that. I know my brain was trying to protect my sanity, I also know I lost my sanity once, and I am not keen on the idea of repeating the experience.

I need people on my side who believe me so that I can move forward. If I am stuck saying “it happened” over and over and over again then I am not actually moving forward, and that’s the part where folks die.

Y’all know even before the pandemic I struggled with body issues, but since gaining weight that’s been even more true. I’ve never been this heavy before and I don’t like it, it’s not just about how it looks, it’s about how it feels.

I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize my face. I don’t know this person who hides behind food instead of standing up for herself.

The problem is there’s not really anyone I can stand up to – what am I gonna do, harass my rapists into admitting they did what they did? That won’t solve anything, it’ll just cause far more harm than I am willing or able to deal with.

So!

Moving forward, my doctor is of the belief that I was raped – I’m of the belief that whether or not he admits it happened, or whether he continues to believe I am making up, I am moving forward.

I dressed for war today and I looked damned good in all black, I always fucking do, but today was entirely about making a point. I am a strong capable person. I worked my way up from washing toilets to creating programs for women and youth who needed safe spaces to be.

I helped hundreds of people get into recovery and I watched many of them make positive choices that changed their lives. I did that shit, I know I can do great things, but what I need is to heal.

So moving forward I am no longer responding to any question that begins with “why do you think this happ…” no, it fucking happened. Get over that, get realistic to it, and move on, because I deserve to be happy.

I deserve to be loved and to love, and to share that love with as many people as I am capable of, but right now that number is very small.

I want to build huge communities of women and mental health patients who are believed, who are respected, and who show the world that mental health issues don’t have to be the end of the world.

And I’m fucking going to.

Sending all my love,

Devon J Hall, The Loud Mouth Brown Girl