Nolite te Bastardes Carborundorum

That, dear hearts, translates to "don't let the bastards grind you down."

I got that from the book, "Handmaid's Tale" by Margaret Atwood and it just hit me like a ton of bricks. That is exactly what got me through a lot of bad stuff and when I was thinking of my next tattoo, I knew exactly what I wanted.

On my lower back, I have those words inscribed. An elegant Celtic knot is the backdrop. It took the entire length of "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" to get it inked. I know because I watched the whole movie from opening credits to closing credits when I got my ink done.

It is one of my most favourite tattoos. I'm happy to show it to people, if they wish to see it.

I was reminded of it this past week in a most not fun way.

Back when I was in my early twenties, I was in a relationship that wasn't healthy or good for me. I was very young in many ways and my bipolar was beyond control. That was also when I went into the hospital for a bit to try and get things put back together (and also, to stave off a suicide attempt) and that was when I learned that abuse is much more subtle than I thought it ever could be.

I call this boyfriend the boyfriend-rapist and I think I'll leave it at that. I learned that rape is not about sex. It's all about power and control and it didn't matter that he "loved" me or that he was "sorry" afterwards. It didn't seem to stop him after say, the second one and after that, it took some time for me to get the strength to leave.

Even then, the last time I saw him was when he was leaving for another state and wanted me to come with him. I refused. That was when the last rape happened. I was, quite frankly, happy that he was gone.

So this past week, I'm waiting for class and who do I see walking down the hall past me? Ah, yes. Him. Older, of course...still skinny with long hair like I remembered. He looked at me and looked away and kept walking. I stared after him, trying to figure out if this really was him or maybe it was someone who just *looked* like him. I've been known to make these sorts of mistakes.

But I found out that it was him. He's going to the same college I'm going to.

My advisor called someone at the school to see what they think I should do about this situation, now that this man is on campus, and also around when I'm going to one of my own night classes.

He asked me if I was going to leave the school. I looked at him and said, "No. No, I have things to do. I have a plan and a dream and the desire and if I leave, he wins again. I'm not leaving. HE can leave." I further told him that as long as he leaves me alone, I'll leave him alone. My advisor commended me on my non violent solution.

I bared my teeth at him in a polite smile. "Well, see, if he DOES try and mess with me, that's when the non violent part ends. The police will be involved and it won't end well...for him."

My Awesome Guy isn't very happy about this situation at all. No, my precious, not one bit. Not that I blame him. He doesn't like the thought of me in the same building as this man. He doesn't like the possibility that I might be in danger again. Nor is he especially happy to know some of the memories I have and know that it's taken me a few days to get my head back to a better place.

PTSD, my friends, is not any fun. I have spent the last few days shutting doors to memories that I have mostly put away. Sometimes, I have nightmares and that's no fun. It's been nice to not have had those in a while.

Still. I'm getting over being freaked out by this and reminding myself that it's different now. I'm a different person in a different place. I'm not who I was back then.

And I'm not going to let this particular bastard get me down.


K.