Trey Malone’s Suicide Note After Sexual Assault

This is heartbreaking.
Trey was raped while at College. Yes men get raped as well as women.
In his suicide note he talks about not getting help recovering from the assault:

Via the Good Men Project:

Editor’s note: We want to open this article with a warning: we are reprinting, in full, the suicide note left by a young man named Trey Malone, who killed himself when he was unable to cope any longer with the sexual assault he had suffered as a student at Amherst College. To say it might be triggering for those sensitive to issues of suicide and sexual assault is an understatement.
Trey’s family support the publication of his final words. They have provided the text of the note to us, and we are publishing it with their approval. More importantly, we are publishing it because it was written to educate. In his last words, Trey speaks of important issues that go unexamined, important voices that go unheard. He writes to a society that, in the end, couldn’t help him enough. He wanted the things he was saying to be heard, and so, in accordance with that wish, we are publishing his words.

♦◊♦​

I suppose, in a lot of ways, this was how it was meant to end. The water tried to take me once and I’m drawn back to this day. Especially on a day like today.
There is a certain sense of irony involved in choosing to end my life in the one thing that’s always pushing forward. Even in this awful polluted bay, the water licks the seaweed and barnacle-covered pieces of rock. There’s some tortured metaphor in everything isn’t there?
When I was in elementary school, I often wondered if I’d get to be like Dad. I spent hours imagining my own reconstructed version of those stories. Initially, the base of these dreams was King Arthur. Endeared by months spent on that bed reading back and forth with mom, then it turned to Zelda, a black and white Gameboy game. The landmarks of St. Maarten all became transplants from that 2” by 2” screen. By the end of 2nd grade, however, it became your stories dad. All those years reading and imagining developed into that one strong fanciful King Arthur of New York. There is a special level of humility to all those tales. The triumphs and failings of a damaged man, certainly no less broken than the rest of us, but human, none the less.
My dreams and hopes have shifted since then, but that base has always been there. King Malone in the Volvo P1800 (with the broken headlights). These days, I’ve become more tired of remembering the past and wondering about the future. I’ve slowly watched that future collapse in on itself whether by my own actions or those of others and now I’m simply tired. My future is rubble and while below that rubble, there is still a foundation, my arms are weak and my tools are broken. My job is gone, relationships strained, and mugshot posted. Entropy is a funny thing I suppose. A house of stone may take a millennia to collapse, but it will collapse. Unfortunately, it would appear the imaginary building blocks of my future were far less sturdy.
Even absent that natural collapse, the sexual assault was too much. There was no adequate form of preparation available for that and no repair afterwards. What began as an earnest effort to help on the part of Amherst, became an emotionless hand washing. In those places I should’ve received help, I saw none. I suppose there are many possible reasons for this. But in the end, I’m still here and so too is that night. I hold no ill will nor do I place an iota of blame upon my family. I blame a society that remains unwilling to address sexual assault and rape. One that pays some object form of lip service to the idea of sexual crimes while working its hardest to marginalize its victims. One where the first question a college president can pose to me, regarding my own assault is, “Have you handled your drinking problem?”
My story is far from exceptional in this regard. Every two minutes there is another victim. 97% of rapists will never spend a day in jail. 1 in every 6 woman in the US has been a victim of rape and 1 in 33 men. Despite this, every awful myth about rape persists. Society will continue to blame women for the clothes they wear (despite hard evidence showing no link) and continue to say, “You shouldn’t have been there” when 73% of rapes are committed by non strangers and more than 50% take place within one mile of the victims home. (4 in 10 take place at their home) Sexual crime is viewed as inconsequential unless the fabled “dark alley with a gun” assault occurs and even then, women face the eternal, “why were you there? What were you wearing?” badgering.
To hear men and women speak of our culture as some Feminazi PC nightmare is embarrassing. To act as though we are not to be held accountable for our words and language is even worse. Free speech has never nor will it ever mean immunity from criticism. Words and languages have meaning. If you don’t think what you say or how you phrase it matters, look up Frank Luntz. The next time you carelessly use the N-word or any other derogatory term, the next time you call some man a bitch or a pussy, try to think about the repercussions of casual slurs. If you’re angry about political correctness or whatever other worthless phrase you feel is necessary, ask yourself why you feel not only entitled to the usage of slurs but compelled to. Read some real freaking feminist literature and stop listening to Rush Limbaugh too. “Feminism is for Everybody” by bell hooks is a good start.
Sorry I ranted a bit, but please have someone read the last two paragraphs to whomever comes to say goodbye. I love all of you and I know this will hurt you more than anything else I could have done, but I’m tired and the water looks beautiful. Pithy a statement as it may be, “suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem” is certainly accurate. I’d take my own advice, but I stopped listening nine months and six days ago.

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______________________________________________________________________
If you are the victim of sexual assault please seek help:
National Sexual Assault Hotline - 1.800.656.HOPE

At any given moment, more than 1,100 trained volunteers are on duty and available to help victims at RAINN-affiliated crisis centers across the country.

How does the National Sexual Assault Hotline work?

The concept behind the hotline is simple. When a caller dials 1.800.656.HOPE, a computer notes the area code and first three digits of the caller's phone number. The call is then instantaneously connected to the nearest RAINN member center. If all counselors at that center are busy, the call is sent to the next closest center. The caller's phone number is not retained, so the call is anonymous and confidential unless the caller chooses to share personally-identifying information.

 

What a shame.

 

So sad & truly heartbreaking.

 

I was terribly moved after reading that. In fact, I had to go off-line and shut down for a little while. And yes, I prayed for that young man and his family. He was apparently intelligent, and quite articulate. What a shame he is gone and his rapist not only gets to keep on keepin' on but will obviously not have to pay (on this side of the veil) for what he did.

I am glad, Nyxx, that you posted this. Hopefully this will help others. I admit that I most sincerely hope for justice to be served to that rapist - before he leaves this mortal realm.

 

I'm not sure why rape gets ignored so much when it comes to men... I mean, is it the macho thing? Is it backwards Chauvinism? Like, there's now way it can happen to a man?

This letter, saddened me, and also angered me, that a life was taken (and from the sounds of it, might have accomplished quite a lot had it not ended) and in its place another life was given to a waste of space (the rapist).

Rest assured, I do believe in justice, however, as mentioned they will likely not see it on this side of the veil...

The sad truth is the rapist will probably keep the letter as a keepsake, some kind of sick trophy/accomplishment.. Or worse, won't even know what they caused...

*sigh... The world we live in folks... The world we live in....

 

Thank you for posting this! The statistics regarding aprehension of rapists and help for the victims are staggeringly bad and a sad endictment on a society that believes that it's justice system is second to none! This young person's death was so unnecessary and probably or possibly would not have occured if he had had access to the help that anyone who has had a crime committed against their person is entitled to!

 

Thanks for posting. It is so sad that person who wrote something so beautiful couldn't get help. Too many people turn a blind eye on male rape. A male friend of mine was raped a few years back, and although he is much better now, he still struggles from time to time. I wish I was still friends with him now, so that I may show this to him.

 

very sad and so true.thanks for posting this because every time i see someone homeless i often think what happened them ending up on the street. who knows..
they all have a story..

 

I read Trey's note, and in a sense I understand what he's saying.

It reminds me of my experiences. People have said "I don't understand why he couldn't get any help?" It's because only women get raped, in society's eyes. When it's a man, more often than not, people are aghast. Somehow a man is above being raped. Well, it can happen. It does happen. And nobody really gives a fuck.

When you are raped, and you try reporting it, to hear the detective laugh at you while you are filling out the report, and allowing you no contact with a social worker.... I became suicidal. I was doing stuff that I knew would kill me if I failed. When I told people what I did, no on believed me. Just like the rape. It's all imaginary.

What isn't imaginary is the nightmares. It's to the point that my brain is now two "command centers" for me. The conscious keeps me living and breathing, the subconscious, if it feels I'm in harm's way it'll protect me. "Huh? What do you mean?"

You see, the nightmares got bad enough that now my brain kick in and tells me if I'm going to sleep. It's interesting how my brain can detect if I'm going to have the nightmares again. if I do, and they're mild, I'll get some sleep. If they are severe, my brain won't let me sleep, because while I'm awake I can fight those nightmares.

When doctors ask me what the nightmares are about, I can't describe them. And they will push and push and push "I don't understand. What do you see?" No, *I* don't understand. What is it about the exact details that you are desperate for? When i'm making love to my wife and I look up at her beautiful face and I don't see her, but the man that raped me, smiling and laughing....? When I have a wet dream, and it's no longer a dream but it becomes a nightmare, and you, the doctor wants to know the finite details of how a dream can turn into a nightmare? How fucked in the head are you, doctor? Fuck it, doc. I hope, I pray, that someday YOU get raped. You are drugged and beaten and raped. And the cops laugh at you when you report it. Your counselor calls you a liar. And a year later when you're having severe flashbacks and you call a rape crisis center, they refuse to help you because they refuse to help rapists. And then they call the police on you who then threaten to arrest you for rape, even though the only victim they have is you.

Now, I still have flashbacks. They are just as bad as they were back then. And still doctors and counselors want me to tell them in details the nightmares. Like some demented pedophile fuck, IMO. Sickening how people can enjoy listening to such horrid trash. I can't stand the nightmares, how can I stand the memory of describing it in detail?

When the counselor is a woman, the awful feeling I get when she tells me "it's about time a man knows what it's like!', smiling (1995 when I was in college).

Far more than just that, but after a while I get sick and tired talking about it.

If it's a woman, it's a holocaust. If it's a man, who cares. No one cares, no one gives a damn. Not the cops. Not the counselors. Not even family.
And that is why Trey died.

 

Tragic. So much mental torment, another life gone too soon. Has the college implemented any changes so others can get help?