"At about 2 a.m. Friday morning, Jon Koppenhaver arrived announced to my home in Las Vegas, NV. After he broke up with me in May, he moved out of my house and back to San Diego. When he arrived, he found myself and one other fully clothed and unarmed [man] in the house. Without a single word spoken, he began beating my friend; once he was finished, he sent my friend away and turned his attention to me. He made me undress and shower in front of him then dragged me out and beat my face. I have no recollection of how many times i was hit. I just know the injuries that resulted from my beating. My injuries include 18 broken bones around my eyes, my nose is broken in 2 places. I am missing teeth and several more are broken. I am unable to chew, or see out of my left eye. My speech is slurred from my swelling and lack of teeth. I have a fractured rib and severely ruptured liver from a kick to my side. My leg is so badly injured, I have not been able to walk on my own. I also attained several lesions from a knife he got from my kitchen. He pushed the knife into me in some areas including my hand, ear and head. He also sawed much of my hair off with his dull knife.
After some time, the knife broke off of the handle and continued to threaten me with the blade. I believed I was going to die. He has beaten me many times before, but never this badly. He took my phone and cancelled all of my plans for the following week to make sure no one would worry about my whereabouts. He told me he was going to rape me, but was disappointed in himself when he couldn’t get hard. After another hit or two, he left me on the floor bleeding and shaking, holding my side from the pain of my rib. He left the room and went to the kitchen where I could hear him ruffling through my drawers. Assuming he was finding a sharper, more stable knife to end my life, I ran out the back door, shutting it behind me so the dogs did not run inside to tip him off. I hopped the fence to the gold course behind my house and ran into a neighboring house. naked and afraid he would catch me, I kept running through the neighborhood running through the doors. Finally, one answered and I was brought to the hospital and treated for my injuries.
I would like to thank everyone for their support through this rough time. I am healing fast and well, and I appreciate a lot of the prayers and visits I have received over the past few days. After many months of fear and pressure to keep this man happy, although I fear for my life, I feel that I can no longer put myself in this situation. The cheating by him nearly everyday, and almost weekly abuse, is now more than I can stand. There is a $10k reward for the capture of Jonathan Koppenhaver at this time. Please report any information to your local police.
- Christy Mack
The victim-blaming backlash against Christy Mack has been horrific. She’s being blamed for her horrific assault because she’s a sex worker, because she dated a professional fighter, because she “cheated” (even though she and Koppenhaver were no longer dating) by people on Twitter and other websites. According to many internet misogynists, the fact that she is a sex worker is why she deserved this abuse, why she doesn’t deserve justice, and why Koppenhaver’s actions are justified. This is misogyny. This is why we need feminism. Koppenhaver is on the run from law enforcement (like any smart, innocent person would be??) and there is a reward for whoever turns him in. You can donate to Christy Mack’s medical expense fund here.
that’s important, the “and sad,” because sometimes sadness can feel like the only thing we are. it can feel all-encompassing. it can feel like the only thing anyone could possibly see, when they look at you: sad. that person is so, so, sad.
but there is always an “and.” we are never just sad. we are never only. we are always and.
we have all known people who were sad, who are sad; some of us are ourselves sad. being sad does not remove the other parts of us, though it can make them harder for us to see. when you are sad, you don’t necessarily feel like you are also funny, and sharp, and clever, and kind.
but you still are. you don’t have to feel like something to be it.
those things are written on your bones, they are woven into the fabric of your skin. sadness can feel so big, so big and overwhelming and complete, even when it is not a directed sadness. maybe especially when it is not a directed sadness, when it’s a depression that has no direct cause and nothing we can name.
sometimes the sadness is too big. people try to cut it out, or starve it out, or drink it down, or drug it silent. if this is you: i’m sorry. if this is you: you are not alone. if this is you: remember that the solution is never to give up, because you do not live in a vacuum. there are people waiting for you. there are films and songs and books and not-sadness waiting for you. i know that you don’t feel like waiting, but wait anyway.
robin williams died today, but the genie didn’t, and mrs. doubtfire didn’t, and peter pan didn’t. sean maquire didn’t, and professor philip brainard didn’t, and alan parrish didn’t. batty koda didn’t. john keating didn’t. you didn’t.
i wasn’t going to reblog anymore on this but i read this and i feel like there are probably some folks on here who might need to read it, too.
As someone who has struggled with depression (and is still battling to keep it at bay), this is important.