2017/09/13

Burying Alex Harder: What I Learned Testifying Against a Man Who Raped Me, and My Experience Being a Male Rape Victim

Hei everyone,


It's been a while, a long while, especially since my last post concerned a bachelor party and was loaded with hints about this very post here. While I'd like to say nice things, while I'd like to have kept my chin up, that last post left off before I found myself busier than ever with school and work, at two jobs and four hours of homework per class per day. So I apologize for the hiatus, needless to say I didn't really want to take one.

Now, this post isn't directed toward my parents, but to everyone who reads my series of brain farts I call a blog. Firstly, thank you, your support does keep me going and if this blog is the only excuse I have to continue writing, then so be it I'll keep writing.

Now, the title may be slightly controversial, so I may have to explain myself. About two years ago I had my last great depression. I drank alcohol excessively and felt as though I was dying inside every day. I sat in a tear-filled brooding mess kicking and screaming about how every problem I've ever had was someone else's fault.

Eventually I sought help and after a short run with some antidepressants I began to turn my life around. But along the way came something quite dear to me. I felt, with no small semblance of doubt that there was two personalities living inside of my body. One who was weak-minded, angry, vindictive, victimized, unproductive, and useless, and another who was in every way the exact foil of this personality. I called this new, cleaner personality Alexander Kodama, and throughout the next year fought tooth and nail to kill Alex Harder, the child who refused to move on.

Over time I gained more and more control over myself, I found myself able to do next to anything I set my mind to, I became stronger, smarter, more adaptable, and significantly more productive. And the metaphor of these two personalities manifested itself in the form of a complete rejection of Alex Harder and everything he was.

Those of you who know Alex Harder know that he intended to become an Astrophysicist. He spent countless hours staring at the stars and pouring over textbooks. But suddenly all of that began to change. Now, even after nearly seven years, when I look up at a clear sky I relive what happened to me, and Alex Harder relived those moments every day as he struggled to force himself to still love Astronomy.

Alex ruined his relationships one at a time. He sought out depressed and victimized friends, He began to hate the normality some people could comfortably breathe in. He hated family members, blamed them, refused to see what it was that they did for him. He hurt those he loved or smothered them into hating him.

He was depressed for seven straight years, suicidal for many of them and had no reason to pursue a future that had abandoned him.

I know it may sound strange for me to speak of myself in the third person. But rape, no matter what form it takes, severely alters the state of a person's mind. Victims of statutory rape are particularly vulnerable, with male victims being among the most likely to commit the act in adulthood, and it is true without a doubt that most pedophiles are victims of sexual assault themselves. But I HAVE to refer to myself this way, because just yesterday, I buried Alex Harder, what small amount of him that was left.

I am sorry to say it, but I am not Alex for a reason. And, though many of you are family, I will heatedly say that you are referring to the dead when you call me Alex. And so all of his memories, to me, are that of another person. I motivate myself by saying "you are not Alex Harder", I get up in the morning knowing that Alexander Kodama will do great things in his life, and now that Alex is gone, I can finally find the strength to move forward proud of who I am and who I will become.

Eventually it was time for me to move on, and a year ago I simply took it.

But just before I felt complete enough to take my new name I got a phone call, one that threatened to risk everything. The man who sexually assaulted me when I was a young teenager, who taught me to use drugs to escape from my problems, was suing my sister for custody of my two nieces.

This, I saw, was my chance to finally lay Alex Harder to rest. and during that phone call I admitted what had happened to my sister, a woman who helped raise me, for the first time. Blurting it out that I was raped and repeatedly molested. Forcing facts on a person who knew nothing, and hearing nothing but tears in reply. Telling her repeatedly how much I loved her; I fought on and explained everything I could. Explaining that it was not her fault and that there is nothing that we can do about it now. It was a long drive home that day and one of the best things I may have ever done, no matter how painful it was to do.

But I learned a lot in these years, both before and while I was on the stand.

Firstly, the system is inherently against the rape victim, especially for a male. For starters, the sheriff who filed my report ignored or completely misrepresented some of the information given. There was no comfort in that meeting, and to be frank, him being male and of the same body type as the man who assaulted me, my testimony was less than cooperative. The lawyers assume you are lying right off the bat, due to the fact that rapes generally take years for the victim to process and something everyone calls "courage" to admit. To this day many of my friends and family have no idea what had happened. And though I'm willing to change that now, it has created many rifts, many painful memories, many failed relationships.

Next, being male there is a serious perceived weakness in being victimized in such a way, and a whole world of ignorance. Misunderstandings of this have completely and irreparably destroyed relationships in my life. Most notably being that with my father, with whom I have only recently worked to repair. But this dynamic of weakness leads to aggressive tendencies, feelings and thoughts that are immoral in every respect appear seemingly out of thin air simply because you want a release from a perceived femininity.

Lastly, I have never in my life felt more vulnerable, more in pain, more barely able to hold myself together, than when I admitted in front of people I know and don't know, people I love and hate, that a man had forced himself on me and that I was powerless to stop him. Never have I needed more support than yesterday, or the day I had to talk to my father about it, or the day I panicked and admitted to my mother only to get responses from them, which I will not elaborate on here, that broke my heart in every possible way.

But saying it in front of Mr. Robert's English class, while pissed at a good friend, was cathartic. There is no vulnerability when you use it as a weapon. And I hope I never do such a thing again.

I've spent years struggling with the fact that I never joined a group that fights sexual assault. I spent years worrying about the fate of my nieces, I spent years in constant disappointment in myself for not being stronger sooner.

And so when October 2016 came around, effectively saying to my sister that I will fight tooth and nail and that I am no longer interested in protecting myself, I knew that I could finally start doing the right thing. And so on top of my schoolwork I worked with lawyers to, most uncomfortably, complete a ten page affidavit detailing the events as they occurred. Making draft after draft, I could barely breathe.

On top of that having to be front of a group of lawyers attending a deposition in my lawyer's office, doing everything I could not to break down as the opposition lawyer skirted around discussing the rape and the molestation I endured for years.

And finally getting called to testify. And being in that room, with the judge to my right, a man who ruined my life directly in front of me, and my sister crying in her chair, I spoke in detail about how I was repeatedly drugged, how one night a man bent me over on the concrete in a barn, and forced his seed into me. I sat there and explained how the sky that night was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I explained how the man would drink daily, how he regularly suggested I drink, how he offered what I consider no different from child pornography as a more suitable stimulant for someone my age than to view a nineteen year old. I expressed how he ruined my life, my sex life, my love life, every aspect of who I was for almost an entire decade.

I forced myself to speak, and choked back tears. I fought eye contact with a man I had avoided for seven years with every fiber of my being. Yet I watched as he took notes with no expression of guilt, shame, or disgust. A blank face sat directly opposite me and soaked in every word I said, wrote it all down as if it was the most normal thing he had ever heard. I can't even begin to describe how I held back anger. How much I wanted to scream and yell. I questioned myself how it could be that such a person could exist, how while being accused of atrocity a person could shamelessly treat it as a nonissue.

And when it was all said and done, I left the room, sat in a waiting room, and cried more than I had cried in years. Real tears, tears that reminded me that it was over. But I was not crying because of the pain, or the stress, no I cried because I was saying goodbye to the boy that was victimized. I cried to let him go free and to no longer live a life considering who has control over my actions, because from now and until forever it will always be me and not him.

My father once told me that some days you are the pigeon and some days you are the statue. But he failed to mention that at the end of the day, the pigeon still flies and the statue still stands. I've skipped classes for this, chosen not to do homework, chosen not to go to work. But that has to be acceptable, and I have to say that nothing I've ever toiled with was so difficult or completely irreversible an issue, nothing is the end of everything. Life on this world has fought mass extinction and every time it fights back.

We are life. We must fight to survive and find who we are, and we cannot let anyone else tell us we're someone else.

If I may make a request, I want you all to stand up to yourself now and forever. The world needs your ambition, not your Netflix binges.

Fight temptations that serve you no benefit.

Stand up to your demons and make a name for yourself.

Be courageous and take a day off when you need it, knowing that you don't want to.

And never, ever think that because you are the victim of any abuse you get to live a life on a bed eating chips and suffer in luxury.

No; it is the victims, the hurt people, the ones who struggle to find something better who stand out in eternity as immortals.

Build yourself, be yourself, fight for your life.

You have no reason to pursue happiness, but every reason to peruse a better self-image.

And if you think you're satisfied never taking that trip to Europe, never writing that book, or living in a world of "I could have been ___"

Then watch me and people like me overtake you, and prove to me that your life was better lived.

I love you all, and thank you for knowing me.



love,
-Alexander

2017/07/26

Thoughts on Vacations, Guns, and Bachelor Parties

Hai mum and dad!

First I'd like to say thank you, dad for the awesome t-shirt!
It is not only comfortable, but it is just plain awesome!

And Thank you mum for helping me with my car, and for spending 
some time with me while I was up
 ^.^

Once the car is completely fixed I'll set up a date to come up north and visit everyone, either before or after the wedding!


As you may have guessed by my short absence, I have "just" come back from a vacation. Where did I go? What did I do? Well I won't answer questions without a lawyer present.



Oh.. two lawyers were present?

Well... I guess I'll talk..


So I call it a vacation because I wasn't working or writing, but it was definitely not a vacation. You see, my brother, Lawyer Dog-er, I mean, Christopher, is getting married in two weeks. This of course means we hired all the strippers, went out in the middle of nowhere, got him extremely drunk, took some crazy illegal drugs, and then accidentally killed him.

As you can see it was funny at the time...

Okay so there were no drugs, he surprisingly didn't die, and the closest thing there was to stripping was each of us taking turns in the shower at the hotel.

Now, I'll admit, the timing for our trip was quite bad for me, as for reasons you both know, I was subpoena'd to court the day the bachelor party started. Thankfully I wasn't called to testify, so when our adventure started I merely didn't want to be there as opposed to actually being so overwhelmed that I would have had to refuse to go all together. So yes, I'll be honest, I wanted to go home when our trip started. But I needed that trip more than my fellow groomspeople know, and I really feel indebted to my brother for putting me in the bridal party, even if I'm just a flower girl.

This. Actually. Exists.

Honestly, being an unhappy turd is an awful way to support your brother, or anyone for that matter. But for reasons I will not explain here and now, I'll just have to say that me looking like this for the first half of the trip was completely justified:

I look like an old man who just got
a birthday cake right after his dog died

(Disclaimer, I did cut everyone else out of this picture
 because they look better than me, what of it.)


But I did cheer up and had a lot of fun. So once again.

Let me tell you a story.


I have a brother. Okay, well I have a lot of them, but this one is my oldest.


He likes guns, and beer, and things.

This guy has helped me more than almost anyone else on the planet. He's a good brother, a good lawyer, and a good shot with a pistol:



And a shotgun:




When I was without enough money to buy food, he gave me some. When I couldn't afford rent, he let me in for over a year.

Yet I have been less than approachable towards him, and this is an unfortunate truth. Without intentionally doing so, I have been at times utterly uncomfortable in his presence. Even though I would happily visit him if invited.

 Why have I been a bad brother? Because he and I are too similar? Because I feel I owe him and don't want to be reminded of my debt?

Well in actuality it has a lot to do with what I was going through before I changed myself. And since I regard nearly everything from that time period with negative emotions, he tends to get a lot of that negative energy from me.

But just as It's not time to discuss why I was subpoena'd or the reasons I have a lawyer right now, it's not time to discuss this very related issue regarding my previous depression. So Christopher, my apology will have to wait, it will come, but it will have to wait.

Now that introductions are over. Here's how it goes.

Being his bachelor party, his best person planned an awesome adventure in our home town and in the Adirondacks. So, on Thursday my brother picked me up in his car, and we took the four hour trek to the North Country.

Unless within the past week they magically 
shaved an hour's worth of driving off of I-81 This trip should generally 
take about four hours. 

We visited his father before they took me to mum's house, where I stayed the night before heading to court the next day. -Of course this was after stopping at a local diner that has consistently made me delicious french toast for the last 15 years.

GG and Papa Joe were there,
and they even without hesitation 
(or really needing to ask)
 put whipped cream on my
french toast like I had ordered it since when
I was five.


and after speaking with my lawyer I spent my day sitting in the waiting room for several hours until I was let go and my brother and I finally went on our way to start the party. 

BACHELOR PARTY PART 1
GUNZ

We bought beer, grabbed our guns (and watermelons), and then went to the cabin outside my brother's father's house and got drunk while we shot things. We exploded coconuts, we took cool pictures, we hit targets that were so far you had to wait for a ting to know if you made a hit. We shot at a rock face and watched bullets ricochet, we debated shooting at CO2 cannisters (SERIOUSLY DON'T EVER DO THOSE LAST TWO). Essentially we had fun.

And I may or may not have had more beer than I should have.

Pardon my language, when my brother and I are together
I swear literally 70% more than I normally would.
(also, the person in the back trying to photobomb is the best person
for the wedding, and with me in the video is a fellow groomsmen)


We're so cool and trendy




I'd like to take a break here and talk about guns. My uncle, a pacifist and a writer, has only shot a firearm once in his life, as he wanted to experience it for himself to accurately depict the act of firing one off in his stories. He describes it as an unnatural amount of power in the hands of an entirely fallible being. Wielding a firearm is one of the nearest things to having the power to control life and death. It is not safe, and it is for most people, terrifying.

During our excursion I personally witnessed the damage a firearm can do to objects harder than the human body. Hell I almost unintentionally cut down a tree with a shotgun, which was deeply disturbing to me on multiple levels.

Now personally, I hate guns. It is not a weapon of choice for me and like my uncle I feel that they are too powerful to be in the hands of most people.

That said, guns exist, and everyone should know both how to fire one and how to defend yourself against one. Though murders involving firearms are not the norm, they are still a threat that should not be taken lightly. They really are the worst case scenario and I feel people should know what to do in all worst case scenarios.

So if you're reading this, I ask you to think about taking gun safety courses, or heading down the street to your local gun-slinging neighbor's house and ask them if they'd like a couple packs of cold beer in exchange for some gun lessons (Try not to choose the latter option, beer and guns DO NOT *normally* mix well).

 Okay, now after we killed innocent fruits and I had to prey to my soul about hurting the trees, we left the cabin and changed into our bachelor party clothes before receiving our awesome gifts from my brother (mine was a knife that I now carry all of the always).






Seriously these shirts are awesome, and before you mention it, I didn't have the time to put my shoes on before we took the shot so I'm not actually that freakishly tall I'm just standing on my tippy toes.

Also savor the moment because that is the last picture of me wearing shorts outside you might ever see.


We then journeyed to Malone, where we would stop at a brewery, have dinner, and watch a movie about an autistic Ben Affleck killing people with guns

There were Corgis.

This is Gale. Gale is friend.

The beer was good. The movie was good, the friendships were budding.


PART 2 MOUNTAINZ

And then after a restful four hour sleep, we got up and went on an adventure to Lake Placid. But not before grabbing some coffee (where I met Desiray, a very attractive girl that I accidentally called Jasmine... sorry Desiray... thanks for playing it off like I was just an idiot).

We drove and talked about sex offender parole, Oddly Charismatic Jerks who "do you a favor" and ask where all the high school girls hang out, and hilarious porn magazine titles before arriving at our first stop of the day, Mount Jo.

This photo marks the beginning.
Like Bilbo Baggins, we were going on an adventure

Mount Jo is a quick two hour hike that can be done before you have the rest of an entire bachelors party  so our best person figured it was a great idea, she was right. 

Here are some photos from the trek up and down the slope.
















It was a pleasant hike and my spirits were lifted to be back in the woods again, even if it was on a trail.

But once we got up to the summit, something awesome happened. Aside from the great view and the obligatory pictures my brother asked us if we had ever seen a panorama where someone appears in the image more than once.

This was on my top ten list of the coolest things I had done all morning.


Check it out:







After about thirty minutes of goofing off and soaking in the view with beef Jerky we decided against sparking up a conversation with the attractive yet unbearably bored guide at the summit and went into town for some second breakfast.


Which we had at a brewery. This one was called the Big Slide and had some nice beer and a classy atmosphere. Of course our second breakfasts looked more like first lunches, but I can't complain, we chose lunch anyway. 







The kitchen was completely visible and though it was empty when we got there, there was a full house when we got our food. The bartenders were friendly and well dressed, something I can appreciate as a bartender myself.







Now, having turned down the chance to grab poutine while I was in Potsdam, I decided to order the poutine at the brewery.







It was unique, with a rich cilantro seasoning and I believe they used beer with the broth. It had both cheese and cheese curd together. I was impressed by these honestly ballzy choices and was satisfied with the outcome. 


Now by now you're probably thinking, Alexander, you climbed a mountain, and had your dinner. The day seems pretty much over, right?

Well no-

because of Sports.

Saranac Lake is well known for the Winter Olympic events and we happened to be able to visit the ski jump where we got to watch kids between the ages of six and sixteen do things we would never do even if you gave us a million spacebucks.







We took the ski lifts up and got the chance to see the view from the taller tower which was used in the 1932 Olympic Games and soaked in this incredible view.




By this time I had gotten acclimated to my company and had started to feel better about everything enough to truly get to say, "hey I'd actually rather be here than home right now."

This is when my brother's bachelor party became my vacation.






After our excursion we finally made it to the hotel and decided that it was time to put all of our things in our room and relax before the night of heavy drinking was upon us.


BUT WAIT THERE WAS MORE MOUNTAIN TO BE CLIMBED


We literally just checked into the hotel and basically floored it to Whiteface Mountain.


Now Whiteface is one of the taller mountains and the hike is apparently like ten hours or something ridiculous like that. But luckily for us, they literally put a road that leads to a castle on the mountain where you can just climb a very rocky set of "stairs" to the peak.

#Merica

I'd tell a story but I'm going to let the mountain speak for itself. (but I will say that I was so eager to get to the top I actually ditched everyone and scaled the thing and ended up waiting about half an hour or so before they all made it to me.)























It was an absolutely beautiful view. I kept posting about it on social media and just all around soaked everything in.

But eventually we had to leave, and leave we did, by going THROUGH THE MOUNTAIN


Because somewhere along the history of humanity someone said "Let's put an elevator IN A MOUNTAIN"

And everyone who heard that was like "DUDE, YES"


And so without further ado:



And then those GENIUSES who put an elevator IN A MOUNTAIN said, "Wait, it'd be even cooler if this elevator just leads to a tunnel that, like, instead of taking you to a building, it like, takes you to THE MIDDLE OF A ROAD"
And so that is what they built.


That is seriously just genius.

Our adventure wasn't over however.

On our way back to the showers we desperately needed we got more or less trapped at the North Pole.

And before you think I'm crazy, our car literally did have serious brake issues due to the slope.

Oh, and the only place we could stop was literally the North Pole.



Because not only is Santa American,
He Roughs it out like Teddy Roosevelt in
the Adirondacks.
_     _     _









UNLESS 















(〇o〇;)


I KNEW IT!!


So once we survived possible break failure we decided against taking showers and went and had literally the best ice cream I've ever had, but couldn't enjoy because of lactose intolerance. 
Thanks, dad! >:p

But no I actually did enjoy that ice cream and though I had to throw some away to keep from getting sick it was certainly worth it.


When we finally made it to the hotel I was dying for a shower and so took the longest and coldest shower Saranac Lake had to offer (15 minutes in case you're wondering).

It was fantastic.




We then went to a brewery that had absolutely fantastic food that I would post here but it was so good I used expletives to express its goodness so you'll just have to take my word for it.

And as I was sitting there enjoying my fantastic and expertly made meal I looked up and there, to my surprise, was a good friend that I hadn't seen in years. And as it turns out she was a bartender at the brewery!

It was great to see her and to catch up before I went and joined my brother for a game of HOLY CRAP I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT TO TEXT HER

*Gabbs, if you are reading this, I am extremely sorry for being an awful friend and not texting you. I'm writing this portion at midnight, which I'm sure since we're both bartenders is pretty much midday for you but I'm going to wait until tomorrow. It was awesome seeing you and I wish you all the best in love, life, and freakishly cute puppies.*


ANYWAY WE PLAYED CORNHOLE AND I WAS AWFUL AT IT.


While we were playing we saw another bachelor party leaving the bar and instead of t-shirts they gave the groom a bowling ball and then CHAINED IT TO HIS LEG


Oh and these images marked the end of the night for us:





Needless to say we slept quite well, drunk on good beer and well wishes for my brother.

The next day I had some of the most delicious french toast ever and we took one last photo before saying goodbye to one of the groomsmen and heading back to Malone.

I swear that shirt was big on me when my 
aunt and uncle sent it to me...


After we got there my brother and his best person enjoyed a long kayaking trip (where they got kind of lost) while I sat on a corgi and did some administrative things.

Snapchat is funchat

Now, this was my first ever bachelor party and it turned out to be a ton of fun for everyone. Before we went on our adventure I thought of bachelor parties as something you're supposed to do for the groom, to celebrate his past and send him off with well wishes for the future. I can understand why this leads to strippers, affairs, and heavy drinking. But now I know that a bachelor party is a chance for the groomsmen to connect with the bachelor and not only guide him in the right direction, but to let him guide them.

I may or may not ever get married, and I'm not too keen on the idea after my last attempt, but there is something to be said about Marriage. It truly binds more than two people, and more than two families. Marriage is a long process that takes planning and initiative that is missing from many people's lives. These crazy rituals are another one of way for us to share our lives with our friends, and that is beautiful to me, because life is all about who we are, and who we share ourselves with.

So, Christopher and Mandy, good luck these next couple weeks. You'll be wedded before you know it, and I'm filled with pride to be one of your groomsmen.


Much love,

-Alexander