It's Raining Men by PK Hill, NAASCA Ambassador at Large There is so much going on in my life I can barely keep track of it all. I have calendars that have calendars. I feel totally overwhelmed. This Advocacy role is not for weaklings. There is much happening in my Fight for Justice and at the same time, I feel like I am in a Holding Pattern of Healing and nothing is happening. Once again the other day during an interview that has yet to air on TV I cried on camera. I am so sick of crying on camera. I have little patience for tears unless they are someone else's and then I am filled with Compassion and Concern. When do the feelings of grief and loss dissipate for Survivors of CSA? When do Survivors of sexual abuse by pedophiles; Nuns, Priests, Teachers, Neighbors, Family members, Etc, when do we get to heal? Why do the Predators get to walk away from the scene of crime unscathed and we, the victims, have to carry the scars of the abuse for a lifetime? And why are there so many people who fail to understand the depth of the harm done to a child who has been raped and molested, abused and confused, used and disposed of? I have been stuck in this emotional place for several days feeling a lot of anxiety about the last few interviews… wishing I had said more, or less, about certain subjects, people and circumstances. There is a lot of stress involved in speaking the damage out loud in public. Did I help my Brother and Sister Survivors by the words I shared or did I do harm?

The majority of the people in my life who support my Advocacy work for CSA victims are Survivors and Advocates themselves. They call me to check on me. I call them to check on them. We email and text in a sincere effort to support each other as we continue to fight for ourselves and others who are seeking Restorative Justice and a change in policy regarding Childhood Sexual Abuse laws. We don't always agree on everything but our common thread is that we DO NOT WANT ANOTHER CHILD TO EVER BE SUBJECTED TO WHAT WE EXPERIENCED.

I Shared a Writing last week on Pk about the men who support me. It was a self-revelation that I was allowing men into my life.

Most of the Advocates I know have a partner, husband, wife, significant other, children, parents, or siblings that support their efforts. Some are blessed enough to have family support and loving friends. I do not have these blessings in my life. I did. I always had a million friends in my life. I was fortunate but I was ignorant of the harm done to me and therefore I was incapable of truly being honest with myself or them about the abuse. I thought that simply by telling my friends that I had been a victim of a pedophile priest beginning at age five was enough. I did not realize I was only skimming the surface of My Truth. I lost them to self-deception. I rarely spoke of the abuse by the nun. It was too confusing and I lived in fear of the judgment of others; the judgment of my family was harsh enough. My family was non-forgiving and the verdict was harsh, cruel, and brutal. They called me a freak and I believed them. They were wrong.

I have never been in an intimate sexual relationship. I was broken by the pedophiles in my life and the EvilEnablers that followed. It literally took me decades to recognize that the sexual abuse at the hands of the Pedophile Nun was not love. She told me she was my #SavingGrace, my spiritual director, my moral compass and I believed her. She paid attention to me. As a wounded 15 year old I was desperate for attention. Give me attention and time and I will follow you to the depths of hell and that is exactly where she took me .. to hell. The #VeiledThreat took me to hell.

I knew the whole priest thing was wrong, but he told me it was my fault and that I was ‘just too cute to resist', and he told me if I ever told anyone he would go after my younger sister so I did not tell anyone. I did not tell anyone until #SisterPedophile and only after she told me she was my Saving Grace and she would never tell anyone my sordid secrets. She was not my Saving Grace and she should have immediately reported the abuse… but she had other ideas in mind. Pedophiles are like killer sharks, they can smell the blood in the water. I was bleeding profusely.

The reporter asked me the hard questions and I answered in a fairly composed manner but when she referred to the Writing I shared a week or so earlier about the supportive men in my life I crumbled and I wept. It has bugged me ever since. It feels so humiliating to cry especially when there is no one left to scoop you up in their arms and tell you ‘Everything will be OK'. She even asked me, “Why the tears?” I did not know the answer until I had the opportunity to process it with a friend. My father did not protect me. My older brother did not protect me. My uncles did not protect me. The men in my life did not protect me. My family did not protect me. The men in my life hurt me over and over again. The men in my life today care more about me than my own family ever did and they treat me with a level of tenderness and respect I never experienced as a child. The acts of tenderness they show me is what made me weep.

Recently there have been people creeping out of the woodwork of my past trying to reconnect. I tell them to read # Pk before I respond. I do not want to be rejected again. I tell them they need to read my Writings so they know who I am, who I was, and who it is they claim to want to reconnect with. I tell them I did not know who I was back then and if I had known I would have told them. Don't talk to me about the books I may be reading or the weather. I am no longer willing to live life on a superficial level. Tell me about you and your struggles. Walk the walk with me or leave me alone.

Sexual abuse really messes up a kid and the life that kid is thrown into as an adult. In order to have so many ‘friends' in my life, I had to live a multi-leveled life of lies and I am no longer willing to live that way. I was living in denial of the grave harm done to me by these sexual demons. I self-medicated. I ran from myself. I was dishonest with myself and others. I betrayed people. I betrayed myself. I am no longer living in denial or addiction. I know who I am today and I can see why I spent my life trying to escape myself.

Sometimes I joke with people and say I am ‘working the 12steps of Recovery' online as Pk. I am introducing myself to me. There is more Truth than humor to the statement. I am on the verge of change or maybe I am in the middle of it. And so it continues.

#ItsRainingMen
#LoveThe12Steps
#NotMySavingGrace
#TogetherWeAreStronger
#metooCSA
#NAASCA