recovery

Thief

alicia — Wed, 22 Sep 2010 10:00:00 +0000

“This night I was trying to describe what my orgasms were like, but I doubted if what I wanted to say would sound compelling to anyone but me...” explains Suzanne, before writing a letter to a convicted rapist who is serving his sentence in prison and whom she has established a relationship with.

Maureen Gibbon’s Thief is the story of Suzanne, a complex woman trying to make sense of her own rape, while exploring her own sexuality. Gibbon creates a multi-layered character, an average woman with a troubled past who lives a secluded life and for the most part, likes to have superficial relationships, without letting anyone into her life.

What’s most riveting about this short novel is the style in which Gibbon lets the reader into the very private life of Suzanne. Thief is a short novel, and the reader might be compelled to read it in one sitting. Each chapter is an intimate view of Suzanne’s thoughts, the kind of thoughts that are rarely discussed, especially because they seem fleeting and extremely personal. The protagonist describes her innermost sexual thoughts and experiences, from masturbation to her fantasies and even to her attack. It is at this point that there is a sense of voyeurism, a bond with what goes through Suzanne’s head. Gibbon allows the reader into the deepest secrets of Suzanne and there’s an understanding of her feelings of shame and guilt, an understanding that Suzanne herself is lacking.

Thief is written in a raw style and yet it doesn’t appear vulgar or cliché; instead, it’s a direct look into a woman’s thoughts and the path she explores to understand own self. The novel is well written and engaging; the story of a woman who, through sexual acceptance, reaches another level of self-discovery.

Written by: Jessica Sánchez, September 22nd 2010

The Films of Su Friedrich, Vol. 5: The Odds of Recovery

admin — Fri, 18 May 2007 13:37:00 +0000

Directed by Su Friedrich

Microcinema / Outcast Films

The Odds of Recovery is an autobiographical account of the director’s years of health troubles, including several surgeries and a serious hormone problem that had a huge negative impact on her sex life and relationship with her partner. The film is an extremely personal self-portrait that can be uncomfortable to watch at times, but has enough dry humor and levity to keep it fairly balanced. I came into the film expecting it to boldly take on things like the ineffectiveness and incompetence of the health care industry, but found that was far from the case. While not the most audacious, confrontational or thorough documentary, this experimental film commands a certain amount of respect for its sheer vulnerability and purity.

It goes back and forth from subtly revealing hidden-camera footage of doctor’s visits to serene but often generic imagery from Friedrich’s life, such as close ups of Friedrich doing needlepoint or gardening. There is also some difficult imagery, particularly the photographs in her scrapbook of the thirteen-pound cyst on her spleen, and a close up shot of Friedrich’s breast after surgery while she describes the physical and emotional pain she is experiencing. For each of the six surgeries covered in this film, there is a bit of detailed medical information given about the problem and excerpts from self-help books that Friedrich read during her recoveries. All of this takes the viewer effectively into the personal journey of dealing with chronic illnesses. Overall, the film seems to accurately portray the emotions of going through these experiences by making the viewer feel uncomfortable, scared, confused and overwhelmed, with intermittent periods of relative calmness.

Written by: Suhaila Aboulhosn, May 18th 2007

Support Zine

admin — Wed, 17 Jan 2007 12:57:00 +0000

Edited by Cindy Crabb

Microcosm Publishing

“How do you define consent? Have you ever talked about consent with your partner(s) or friends? Do you know people, or have you ever been with people who define consent differently than you do?”

Thus begins one of the best zines I have ever read on the subject of healing from sexual abuse. This zine is specifically geared towards friends, lovers and allies of survivors, and is written in an accessible, loving, realistic way, including writing and comics by a dozen or so contributors who are healing from or supporting others with abuse histories (many have experienced both). Their words are painful, but also comforting for those of us who have struggled in this realm – the message is not tragic, it is one of hope and community and, well, support.

Topics include: consent, boundaries, triggers, dissociation, power dynamics, survivor guilt, recovering from trauma, flashbacks, staying present, confronting rapists, denial, panic attacks, and more. Being in the middle of these experiences can feel out of control and indefinable, making it impossible to communicate with a partner, especially if they are taking it personally. So having these words to consult and share could really make a difference. The advice is straight-forward and specific, while still relying on your intuitive and empathic powers, which makes the healing journey feel more like an adventure and less like torture, no matter how painful it is.

“It’s okay for us to have to work hard at what other people take for granted. The goal is not to return to some arbitrary centerpoint of normalcy from which we were robbed as children. We are not deviants. The goal is to heal, to be on a continuum of healing,” writes Chris Somerville in his essay, “Safe Sex for Survivors.”

While we’re all aware that most sexual abuse happens to girls at the hands of men, this zine also includes a lot of writing from the perspective of male survivors, and several stories of men being pressured into sex by women, which I’ve rarely heard talked about. Also, this zine manages to avoid demonizing abusers while holding everyone accountable for recognizing power dynamics and honoring other people’s boundaries. In one piece, the editor writes about the fucked up act of initiating sex with a sleeping person, and admits to having done this herself:

“Do they think about our abuse histories? Or the fact that we can’t say “no” when we’re asleep? Do they understand our complex defense systems and how vulnerable and terrified we might feel waking up to this assault? … The truth is, I used to crawl in people’s beds too. I thought of course all guys wanted it. I never considered the fact that I might be capable of assault. But of course, I am. A lot of us are.”

Whether or not you think you need it, whether or not you’re a survivor, or dating a survivor, or even having sex, you would probably benefit from reading this zine. And the people you choose to be intimate with will probably thank you for making their safety a priority.

Written by: Nomy Lamm, January 17th 2007