“Ask Me No Questions and I’ll Tell You No Lies”

By Donna Gore, M.A. 

There is no denying a survivor of crime’s pain no matter what form it takes, whether it is homicide, stalking, assault, domestic violence, a hate crime, home invasion, kidnapping etc., they all represent long lasting violations on the human condition.

However, as a homicide survivor, I cannot stand in judgment of those who have experienced any one of these types of crimes. For me to pre-suppose and say I have “walked in their shoes” would seem somewhat arrogant. Why....? ‘Because an apple is not identical to an orange….. My environment, education and life experience is unique unto me and therefore, I cannot say “I know what you are going through” in the true sense. But, we do have commonalities. This is what keeps me humble, for I really don’t have any idea what anyone is burdened with on a day to day basis, irrespective of crime.

It struck me when reading about someone else‘s victimization recently that I cannot embrace everyone’s pain all of the time. I am one of the most compassionate people on earth. BUT, it cannot be squandered. In the language of professional therapists, I believe they refer to “compassion fatigue,” a type of burnout, as a very real pitfall in certain professions.

I raise these issues as I want to discuss the difference between “Victim” versus “Survivor” and “Entitlement” versus “Reality.” I can personally affiliate with a number of oppressed minorities should I choose to, at any given time. These include –female, LGBT community member, physically challenged member, homicide survivor, lefty/left-handed, person surviving a ridiculous number of surgical procedures as a child…..

Given all of these minority based affiliations, I am well aware of the difference between victims versus survivor.

I caution all survivors of crime, that if we are not careful to protect our psyche, we can easily step over the line.

According to the 2010 Random House dictionary a “Victim” can be: 


1) A person who suffers from a destructive or injurious action or agency: (as in a victim of an automobile accident).

2) A person who is deceived or cheated, as by his or her own emotions or ignorance, by the dishonesty of others, or by some impersonal agency: (as in a victim of misplaced confidence; the victim of a swindler; a victim of an optical illusion).

3) A person or animal sacrificed or regarded as sacrificed (as in war victims).

4) A living creature sacrificed in religious rites.

(You can judge for yourself whether these are illuminating examples of “victim hood.” DRG)

I can attest to the fact that we are sufferers of destruction and injury, deceived and cheated, at times by our own emotions and sacrificed at the expense of others’ actions.

“Survivor” definitions that apply can be:

1) A person or thing that survives.

2) A person who continues to function or prosper in spite of opposition, hardship, or setbacks.

***The second definition, ladies and gentlemen, is what we strive for and the equivalent of the “Take Back the Night” rallies.

Entitlement Definition: To give (a person or thing) a title, right, or claim to something; furnish with grounds for laying claim.

(Such a definition appears hollow and without substance or context. DRG).

Aren’t we entitled to our rights as crime victims? Aren’t we entitled to our anger and respect? Aren’t we entitled to revenge…. Or to have our loved one back again…or our body and mind restored to health …or to feel safe again? We are entitled, aren’t we?

Contrast Entitlement with Reality, or the knowledge that life, indeed is more often “not fair” despite our best efforts. Survivors of crime eventually come to know that they cannot resolve the “why me why us” and must move on to address the “what next” instead!

So, when crime happens to you, what is your alternative? You sit around the circle of the support group and listen, or cry, or contribute. Alternately, you can become an advocate/activist or you can become stuck in your anger until it destroys the fiber of your being. You may also continue to deny, place blame on everyone else for your prolonged dysfunction or escape to a fantasy world. All of these negative responses feel like lies, as they are not “who we used to be.”

**But the bigger lie is to not place blame squarely on the perpetrator(s) and at times, the vulnerability and/ or unwise decisions of those murdered. It’s a slippery slope when you allow your emotions to become an indictment of society as a whole. You have so many conflicting emotions that you lose perspective.

In my opinion, the difference between being a victim and a survivor is huge. The key to crossing over to survivor status is motivation. I can say with certainty that we all start out as a victim- a victim of the event itself a victim of circumstances that follow, a victim of “the system.” And then, slowly but surely, if we are fortunate enough to receive support and counseling designed specifically for this experience, we see that wallowing in our own victimization ends up being worse than death itself and a luxury we cannot afford.

Rather, some of us realize that to use our grief toward positive outcomes for others is in itself immensely therapeutic…. and the only conceivable path for “a new day.”

So I say, carry on as best you can, healing more with each day looking forward and taking control of your life in the smallest of ways. To do otherwise, is giving power to the perpetrator(s) and sinking your soul into the abyss.

Respectfully Submitted,
Donna R. Gore, M. A.
Homicide Survivor from Connecticut

Out Of The Dark

By Susan Murphy Milano

Growing up in a home where violence is part of your daily existence does not only affect the victim and the abuser, but it wreaks havoc on children born into this toxic environment well into their adult life.


As an adult survivor of violence and homicide I hid from being labeled a “victim.” I did not want anyone to see me weak, hurt or distraught. I learned how to be in control of my entire world. This included my work with victims of stalking and violence. I created a strong image for the world to see that allowed me to assist those who lived and played in very dark sandboxes, the same box I would go and hide when no one was looking. As if I were playing a game of hide and seek with myself.


I would discover just how dark my sandbox was in the fall of 2009. If you happen to listen to my weekly show on blog talk radio it was evident that something was wrong with my throat and voice. It had a mind of its own. One minute I would be talking in my normal tone and after a few minutes it would raise up and go loud or very rough for no reason at all. My throat would get so bad I timed each of my telephone conversations. By the end of the day my voice was gone and all you could hear was a strained whisper. I attempted to make excuses telling friends and colleagues that I had a cold or a sinus infection. People expressed concern and I continued making excuses.


I had already known for quite some time that something was wrong. I made an appoinment with a doctor. He scheduled me for a biopsy and I waited for the results to come back. I told no one.




Readily, I accepted the diagnosis and did not give it a second thought when the doctors offered me little hope for a full recovery.




In true "Jane Wayne” I can do anything spirit, I was prepared and preparing for the end of my life’s journey. With my new book “Time’s Up” about to release and another book “Holding My Hand Through Hell” scheduled for 2011, I worked with the help of my colleague and close friend Delilah to complete the projects. I was out of gas so to speak with little to no energy, sadly I could no longer continue with the Justice Interrupted program. A show I created to bring awareness for victims of unsolved crimes. This world had shown only darkness and being diagnosed with a life threatening condition I had done what I never let victims of abuse or suvivors of homicide do, give up.


After the holidays my doctor arranged hospice care for when it was time. I decided to say goodbye one by one to friends and colleagues. I made arrangements to visit each person either by car or air bringing special gifts of love as I said my final goodbye.


I was more at peace with dying then I had ever been with living. In my sandbox the light never really warmed the sand.


But the light from my friends was too bright. One by one each rallied around to do what was necessary to keep me here. Their love for me and my work was my river of warmth, love and more importantly light. Almost daily I received books, cd’s and emails of prayers from total strangers. Churches I never heard of contacted me asking how they could help me. Doctor’s in the field offered to provide medical services without charge.


When my health went into a downward spiral a friend flew in to town, rented a car and took me home with her. I had never experienced anyone ever doing anything for me without expecting something back in return.


Several days later I responded to the medication and my health improved. My voice returned and the tumor that was blocking my airway is now gone. I would like to tell you that I had a medical miracle and expect a full recovery. But that is only a small part to my recovery. The miracle is really about God and how he placed all those loving, wonderful people on my path and in my life whom refused to allow me to give up. Words don't seem adequate in describing my deepest thanks, but they are why I am still here.






To my shinning angels, thank you Delilah, Jaemi, Jillian, Kathryn, David, Chris, Nancy, Lavinia, Denise, Neil, Michael, Jay, Christine, Lisa, Jason, Dirk, Cherry, Wanda, Deon, Jennifer, Nicole, Claudine, David, Anny, Mitchell, Patte, Amanda, Diane, Nancy, Paul, Dawn, Margaret, Ward and all the others who have surrounded me with their love and placed me in the light.