This is a tribute to all the exited women who with the shadow of PTSD do amazing work to bring about abolition.
Campaigning against the sex trade as a survivor of the sex trade is very hard, for it done with the shadow of trauma all the time.
But this shadow is a factor that can drives us forward. It is constant reminder of what we struggling for. A reminder of what was our pasts must stop being other’s futures.
I hate PTSD – but at the same time I know it a vital tool to everything that I do, everything I want to achieve is hidden inside that trauma.
I fight the sex trade not for my ego, not to get a name – I fight with every cell of my body coz I cannot bear to know the sex trade continue to destroy strong and wonderful girls.
My fight is inside my PTSD.
I know this for every time I run away from this difficult and heart-wrenching work – I cannot rest. I get a terrible restlessness.
An ache in my stomach that brings back all memories of what it I need to confront.
Call it body memories if you wish – put it in some book or category if that makes it makes safe for you. But know PTSD can be a vivid recording of the reality of being tortured.
Knowing inside my body the reality of being shut inside rooms with men or a man who would at any time do maximum damage to my body – that what PTSD shows me.
Being shown that made me a fighter and campaigner.
I know the interconnection of porn and prostitution through the agony of body memories – I know I was made to be both, made to nothing but their sex object, to be whatever aspect of the sex trade they wanted.
PTSD reminds me what that meant. It meant being made into nothing, being made into goods – it is the reality of being made sub-human.
That is a powerful reason to fight to the death against the sex trade and all those that make excuses for it – for you are turning a blind eye to the prostituted class being made sub-human.
As I explore PTSD, I speak out the many thoughtless – well, I hope they are thoughtless – expressions or assumptions that increase my PTSD on an almost daily basis.
All the time there is assumptions around indoors prostitution, that makes my PTSD scream with rage and pain.
There is the old classic that indoors prostitution is safe or at least safe enough. I have in many ways why that is not true – but my PTSD screams you want to say it is safe enough so that you have access to prostitution – either as a punter or as a pimp, I doubt as a full-time long-term prostitute.
I could say if indoors prostitution, especially in brothels or as an escort, is so brilliant why don’t you do it full-time long-term for the minimum of six months.
I mean real prostitution – not hobby prostitution – not a place where you can choose the punters who will use you, not an environment where you are guarantee dignity or respect, not a place where your safety is of any priority.
Indoors prostitution is no environment to be safe in. How can being shut in a room where men who think they owned you be safe?
How can it be safe to be porn goods that are brought and sold?
Indoors prostitution is just living with knowing rape is your norm, trying to talk punters out of worse sexual torturing or beatings, living with that many many prostituted women and girls are murdered in flats, hotels, houses, clubs all the time – and society does not give a damn.
Indoors prostitution is something that must go – there is nothing that can make it safe enough. I am so sick of picking up the pieces of the hell that is indoors prostitution.
That hell is named as PTSD.
I can’t write any more.
PTSD blocks me.