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fieldbears:

britneyjustin:

britsanity:

Witnesses say they asked Britney why she shaved her head and her response was, “I’m tired of plugging things into it. I’m tired of people touching me.”

T-Pain: “That was the most beautiful thing in the world. Do you know why she was shaving her head? Because it was so important to other people. She is like, “Listen. Don’t touch my hair anymore. Stop touching my hair.” People were like, “We’ve got to make your hair before you go outside. You can’t leave.” She went … “Now I don’t have hair. What you going to do?”

The older I get the more her breakdown seems less ‘unbalanced’ and more ‘completely understandable’.

Anxiety.

It’s 1156 Saturday night. My trial is Monday.
One day.
That’s all ive got.
One.
A little over two years ago, two years august 29th, I woke up with a man on top of me. Inside of me. Taking advantage of me.
I froze. I knew him, I knew what he could do to me. I froze to keep myself safe. I waited, while he treated my like a doll. Until he was finished with me.
I went to the bathroom and cried. I gathered my strength, found my shorts that were taken off me,my purse, walked out without my sandals because I couldn’t find them. I needed out. I got to my car, crying some more. Called Paige. My rock. She talked me out of doing anything dangerous to myself. She knew I would. She found the number to the rape crisis center here in Albuquerque. I was alone in this city.

I almost missed my appointment, I fell asleep. They called me. I gathered myself and drove.
Ended up meeting Bill Paxton for a short second. And I went it and did my rape kit. They helped me through it all. I was so delirious I still didn’t want to accept it. I told them I needed a couple days to really let this settle in. That I’m alone and my only other friend is in las cruces.
So I after I was done there, I drove 3-4 hours to las cruces, to Marisa. I’m so glad I did.
The drive there gave me time to call everyone. Crying everytime.
I’ve never cried so much in such a short amount of time. I stopped shedding tears.

I’ve been called a whore. Slut. Desperate, been told it was my fault. That I must have done something.
All the shit you hear about happening.
I went through it.
But I still went forward with the charges.
Took a year and a half for the DNA to come back positive. Throwing his defense (which was that it never happened) down the drain.
They tried to find a flaw in the evidence, but couldn’t.
It’s taken two years of nightmares, and slut shaming, and fear of being touched to finally be able to put my case to rest.
Two years of being strong. Of staying adamant on this case even being in a different state.
I wasn’t and am not letting him get away with ruining me. I am better than that. Than him.
I will overcome this.
I know I am walking away with scars, but they will forever show me how strong I am. And that my rapist will pay. And to all the other victims out there, you’re not alone. Stay strong and you can and will win.
It won’t be easy. It won’t be quick.
But it will be worth it.

I was raped. I was damaged. But I’m winning this.

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