As Christine Blasey Ford on Thursday described Brett Kavanaugh's hand over her mouth, Beth felt an ache in her throat, 23 years after she says two men tightened their hands around her neck and raped her.
“Listening to her talk about hands being held over her mouth, I felt that suffocating feeling,” said Beth, a Salt Lake City woman who asked to be identified by only her first name. "I get it. I know what that’s like, how powerless you are. Especially when there’s two of them.
"That's when I started to cry."
Powerlessness was a theme in the trauma described by some Utah assault victims and their advocates Thursday as Kavanaugh’s nomination to the U.S. Supreme Court has brought to light multiple allegations against him of sexual violence and misconduct. He has denied all the accusations. On Thursday, he told the Senate Judiciary Committee he will not withdraw from the nomination.
“I can’t really bring myself to watch the proceedings today. There’s not anything I can do,” said a Utah County woman who one month ago reported to police an assault that she said shares many details with the 1982 attack described by Blasey Ford.
"Imagine being just a month out from this horrible thing and having people basically tell your story back to you, but with the caveats of, 'Oh, I don't believe the victim.' 'Oh, we just need to confirm him.' 'Oh, this is just a mistake he made in high school,'" she said. "This is why people don't come forward."
Kavanaugh’s nomination battle was “a huge, hot topic” at a Wednesday night support group at the Center for Women and Children in Crisis in Orem, said Amy Lindstrom, the center’s director of sexual violence services.
"Everybody that came — there was a lot of emotion around it," Lindstrom said. "It is very, very hard for a survivor of sex assault when you see comments like, 'Should he really be held responsible for something he did when he was 17 years old? C'mon, this is going to ruin his life.'"
The helplessness survivors expressed was magnified by the possibility that Kavanaugh will be elevated to a position of enormous authority, and by seeing sympathy for him pour in from the nation’s highest halls of power, Lindstrom said.
"It makes me sick," said the Utah County woman, who asked not to be identified while her case is being investigated. "It's a really hopeless feeling, it's a really angry feeling. It makes you nauseous to think about what happened to you, and that's what everyone seems to be willing to accept in their Supreme Court nominees."
At the Rape Recovery Center in Salt Lake City, call volume has been on the rise since the November 2016 presidential election, Executive Director Mara Haight said. That next October, at the beginning of the #MeToo movement, Haight said the center saw a nearly 80 percent increase in services provided to survivors.
The trend lasted for more than that month. From September 2016 to September 2017, Haight said, the center saw an increase in survivors served, going from 1,009 individuals to 1,720.
Many of the people who call the center have never talked about their assault before, Haight said, but have come forward because of the trauma of seeing so much sexual violence in current events.
Haight said she’s heard from survivors recently who say they don’t like to turn on the TV or check social media anymore because the news is filled with discussion of Kavanaugh’s hearing and the truthfulness of his accuser.
“It’s a constant reminder that sexual violence is a part of our culture, and that the culture does not tend to be kind to survivors,” she said.
The Salt Lake Tribune generally does not identify sexual assault victims, but names them when they consent. Beth, who lives in Salt Lake City, had initially asked The Tribune to use her full name, but later asked that only her first name be used — because, she said, “I just watched five minutes of Kavanaugh.”
"He's screaming, he's yelling, ... he refuses to answer questions," Beth said. "Just his behavior and the GOP senators' support of his behavior, ... how they're undermining [Blasey Ford] even though she's not there. ... I'm like, I've got to draw a line. How can you go against this, when you're not going to win?
"I don't want any part of this."
Not every crisis center in Utah has fielded requests for services specifically related to Kavanaugh, though others, like the Center for Women and Children in Crisis, have seen a recent spike in calls. In Cedar City, for example, Canyon Creek Services normally serves between 20 and 30 clients a month in connection with sex assault, said spokeswoman Rachelle Hughes; so far in September, Canyon Creek has served 39 clients.
Counselors at Your Community Connection crisis center in Ogden don’t “recall having people mention the Kavanaugh situation — that it influenced them, or made them decide that they were going to seek help,” said director Julie Smith. “They didn’t say it verbally, but everyone agreed that our numbers have gone up.”
The ubiquitous commentary on social media was particularly draining to victims who attended Wednesday's support group, Lindstrom said.
"They're trying to get away from it but they can't," she said. "It's everywhere."
After witnessing backlash against Kavanaugh's accusers, seeing posts about the allegations pop up online "makes me break out in a cold sweat," the Utah County woman said.
"Social media has been just really difficult all week, but especially today because it seems like that's all anybody is talking about," she said.
After Blasey-Ford's opening statement brought Beth to tears, she said, she retreated to her bedroom.
"It was so depressing," Beth said. "I found it triggering and harrowing at the same time because I wanted to rescue her."
Later, after briefly tuning in to the questioning of Kavanaugh, Beth said she identified what was flooding her with anxiety.
“She talks about two men. I experienced an [assault] with two men. Kavanaugh has Chuck Grassley: Every time Kavanaugh starts to get overwhelmed, [Senate Judiciary Chairman] Chuck Grassley teams up with him, and it’s impossible for anyone to move forward,” Beth said. “It’s the tag-teaming that the men do.”
Tribune reporter Paighten Harkins contributed to this report.