Rape Culture

I am about to go on a bit of a diatribe regarding the current judicial system and how it keeps us in rape culture and victim blaming. I have been talking to myself way too much and trying to kind of argue the case. I am actually getting a little concerned for myself, and frankly, I really need to get the fuck out of my house this weekend and be around some humans. I need to have a quick chat with {A} first about an audiogram and her chosen idiot.

{A}, listen to me because you find it as funny as I do. Your idiot, under oath, said he couldn’t hear something that is at 70–90 dB. Oh, and he was giving an appropriate response. Come on, you know that’s bullshit. So I hear from that fucking cunt of a lawyer, and I’m kind of explaining an audiogram. I said, “And then letter sounds are correlated with frequency, and every language has its own frequencies.” This bitch comes back with, “Correlation does not equal causation. You are going to need an expert witness to correlate those numbers.” Oh my God. Right? I couldn’t even respond. Like I just said, “You clearly have no idea what you are talking about.”

So, girl, do me a favor. Tell your fucking idiot to go get a goddamn hearing test. She said it would be insurance fraud because it was not medically necessary. 1. Dude is 60. Time for annuals to start. 2. Not medically necessary? Dude can’t hear 90 dB? I am pretty certain that shit would be medically necessary at that point. If he was dumb enough to claim that, he has to pay for this shit. That is all.

Perpetuating rape culture is next.

I think I have this case. Like I have it locked the fuck down. Like, honest to God, it’s so clear. Like 100%.

There is no goddamn defense unless I am missing something here. Maybe he hasn’t taken consensual non-consent off the table, actually? He hasn’t specifically excluded it. But I think partially. I guess he wouldn’t have to put it in the ROGs? I don’t fucking know.

I think I have him in a few places.

But the more I look, the more I think of how to present this, the more it dawns on me that this is all fucking bullshit.

You want to know something? My actions are not the fucking question. His are. His. Not mine.

So seriously, why the fuck have I been answering for this for so fucking long?

This was seriously egregious. Like this shit is not anywhere close to okay. And I am fucking tired of being the only one answering for it. And I’m tired of the fact that he just lies and lies and lies some more, and I have to answer for it.

And I want some fucking answers here. Do you know what I just realized? He never once defended what he did to me. Never once. Listen, he was never like, “Oh my God, how could you accuse me?” or, you know, “You know as well as I do that was okay.” Like, he never fucking said anything. Like his first thoughts were to threaten me. That’s all. Well, that and boohoo over his job and his girlfriend.

You realize he will retire with, like, a full pension in, what, five years? How exactly is this world just? I’m still sitting here stressing the fuck out trying to think of any goddamn last-ditch effort to get him arrested so he stops fucking hurting {A}.

We are all aware, right? I went through a timeline with psych red flags I know of. There have got to be so many more of us. There is no fucking way.

All I have right now is that I know he is turning 60, and his dick will stop working very soon, but with Viagra he could be dangerous into his 80s.

I seriously need to do something. But I don’t fucking matter. I don’t exist, and literally no one cares what happened.

And I’m just fucking crazy. And I’m obsessive, and I’m a jealous ex-girlfriend and a fucking whatever.

Let me explain my insane jealousy to you. He would fucking tell me I was crazy and jealous and all this shit. Let me explain how this always went down. {D} gets a text. I try to ignore it until I fucking can’t. Then I just got quiet. Totally quiet. Then I would apologize for seeing it or thinking it. I would then say, “I will love you through anything. I will forgive you for anything. Please just don’t lie to me.” And then he would lie, and I would go, like, “Okay, I believe you. I’m sorry for asking.” Or I would kind of catch him in a lie. This was always great because then he just turned the whole fucking thing on me.

The quiet part I had? If he asked me if I was okay, I would say I’m fine. So when caught in a lie, he would always tell me I was the liar. Not him. Because I lied and told him I was fine.

Does that sound like insane jealousy to you? Hmm? No. It’s actually a very calm, measured response. Also, it was 100% justified.

So, honest to God, this man is sitting here lying about me. He is a known liar. He has been in trouble his whole fucking life. So, of course, we can’t do anything about it.

I forgot. Then he just needs to have all of it hidden for him and kept from public records, like all of his law licenses.

And I’m the motherfucking problem. I am the crazy one. I get discredited. Me. Not him.

Yay rape culture. Fuck the judicial system.