Please read that title like it's dripping with sarcasm. I hate my first therapist. I saw her because I realized I needed help, and the counseling services at school are free. I know other people who have used the counseling and testing center and loved it, but I was not matched with a good counselor. I'm sure she was great with other people, but she wasn't familiar dealing with sexual assault survivors and she clearly struggled.
One session I was telling her about how I really had a hard time getting my feelings out there. I don't like any emotion besides happiness, and I refused to admit that I had a lot of built up anger, fear, and sadness. Her first piece of advice was to take the stress and anger out on inanimate objects in the privacy of my own apartment. Alright, I could handle that. Let me find some ugly dishes I can smash and a Louisville Slugger I can beat my mattress with. I threw some glasses outside which helped a little, and due to a lack of baseball bat I had to resort to beating my mattress with a hammer. Only slightly helpful...the hammer is so tiny and covers less surface area. LAME. Those things only provided momentary comfort, and I almost immediately went way back into my funk.
The next session I told her that breaking things wasn't really helping. So her advice was..."break things." Giiiiiiirl did you NOT just hear what I said? I calmly (okay maybe not so calmly, imagine me hyperventilating at this point) explained that I did not think that would work. So she told me to express my anger. She said "You can even use some 4 or 5 letter words if it would make you feel better!" Oh man I was cussing up a storm. I dropped my favorite word at the time that happened to start with an F so many times I lost count. I'll let you use your imagination for the rest :) After I was done, I felt like a weight had been lifted off of my chest until I saw the look on Ms. Therapist of the Year's face. She looked me straight in the eye and goes "those weren't quite the words I was thinking of". I'm sorry Madam Psychologist! Were you expecting something more along the lines of "Oh fiddlesticks!" "What a meanie!" "I'm so angry I could just eat a pint of ice cream and cry it out to a Nicholas Sparks movie!" Not my style. I'm a yankee and I've got some colorful language that works its way out in these situations. There are some people I don't swear in front of ever (my parents are not included in this club) but I felt like a therapist is someone I could do that with because she wanted me to express myself. Maybe she would have preferred an interpretive dance...I'm good at those! Ask my parents and Grandma about my "interpretive dance with pickle" to Purple Snowflakes that I whipped out in the middle of dinner one time. INSPIRED.
One thing this woman did accomplish was making me feel like a complete lunatic! Suicidal thoughts? Let me shout to the entire office that you need an emergency psychiatrist appointment because you're a self harm risk! Fleeting harmful thoughts you won't act on? HIDE THE RAZORS YALL AND GO TO THE HOSPITAL! Oh you're feeling depressed? That sucks....walk it off champ. The only good thing this goon has done is send me to the greatest psychiatrist ever. As soon as I walked in and told him why I was there he says "F***IN DBAG! Do you ever feel like you want to walk up to guys like that, cut off their d**ks and shove it down their throat!?" <---I just offended about 20 different people with that sentence...oh well. The point was this guy understood. He was as angry as I was and showed me it was ok to show it. I am so sad I don't get to be a patient of his anymore. Curse you graduation!
Therapist #1. You....I don't even know. I hope I was the only one who felt like you sucked. I cannot imagine anyone finding you helpful. Maybe you just weren't a good fit. I don't want anyone to read this and get discouraged about going to therapy, though. I have an awesome therapist now who is a perfect fit for me. Sometimes you just have to look a little harder for a good fit :)
Monday, July 30, 2012
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Looney Bin
I got to spend this evening with my friend Amie, and since I had so much fun and laughed so hard with her I'm going to continue blogging, but out of sequence. I feel like writing, but not about anything too heavy. I want to be able to write about something I can sort of laugh about at this point. But first let me say I ADORE Amie...seriously. Tonight she said "Your blog is hilarious." Some of you will see that and you're probably thinking "what the hell is wrong with her?" BUT I was actually flattered. She knows the extent of the ordeal, she knows how it's affected me, and she also knows my sarcasm and sense of humor and how I deal with things. The little random commentary I've added in a couple posts were MEANT to make you laugh. Her exact words were "I can hear your voice saying those things while I'm reading them, I can hear the attitude and see your eyes rolling and it cracks me up." Good. Amie also confessed that she's a little overprotective of me (she totally is). She's like a Mama Pitbull....mess with me and she'll eat your face off. I confided in her that I wouldn't use the actual names of my ex-friend and his roommate in any of my posts and she said that if anyone wants to know those names to contact her and she'll share that info. I love her :)
Anyway, onto the story about the hospital. So one day I'm having an amazing day. I was in such a great mood! Student teaching had started, I was making great memories with friends and I was genuinely happy. That afternoon I had an appointment with my therapist at the time. She's kind of an awkward person and I didn't really feel like she was actually helping me. She gave the same advice over and over even though it was clearly not effective. I walk....no....I BOUNCE into her office and start telling her how awesome everything is. What does she ask? "Since I saw you last (a month ago) have you had any suicidal thoughts?" My answer? "Oh yeah, here and there. I don't have a plan, don't know how I'd do it, kind of a fleeting thought once in a while that maybe things would be better if I were just gone but no big deal. I wouldn't go through with it." Apparently it was a big deal because all of a sudden we're making a safety plan and she's telling me to contact people to ask their permission to be my in-state emergency contacts, and then we're coming up with how to tell my roommates to hide all of the knives and razors and medications. Then BOOM my session is over and I'm leaving with my head spinning feeling absolutely insane. Was what I said really that bad? Was it really so alarming?? I get in my car and made a couple of phone calls to my emergency contacts. Then while I'm driving I call my mom and start sobbing, and she can't understand a word I'm saying and she's telling me to call Marilyn because she's actually in the state and nearby-ish and my mom's freaking out. So I call Marilyn even though I had just talked to her like 10 minutes ago, and I'm pretty sure I scared the life out of her, and she tells me to go into my apartment and find my roommate because my roommates were home and actually within 100 feet of me. SO I go inside and my roommate starts freaking out and trying to convince me to go to the hospital, and long story short I relented and suddenly she's driving me to a freaking mental facility. And at the time everyone thought that would be best because the people there are trained to deal with me. I'm not mad about how everyone reacted (except my roommates. one ignored me and the other one got super dramatic)...they didn't know what else to do and they love me and I know that's why the things that transpired did.
I get to this place and they tell me I can voluntarily be admitted or they'll just do it themselves. I voluntarily did it because I figured I had a better chance of leaving sooner if I did. I cried this entire time. I was scared! I walk into the back hallway and see people shuffling around in slippers and looking like something out of the movies. I was crying so much the nurse had to put a yellow bracelet on me that said "Fall Risk". For anyone who knows me, this is HILARIOUS. I don't need to be crying to fall. I'm a 24/7 fall risk. I still have that bracelet....I might frame it ;) I talked to my mom on the phone and she told me she'd be catching a flight out in the morning and be here in time for afternoon visiting hours. In my mind I was trying to plan my escape. I went and laid down, but I couldn't sleep. Finally a nurse walked in with a flashlight and was all "Hey want an Ambien to help you sleep?" I told her I loved her....and then I fell into a deep sleep for hours.
I was still in a bad mood when I woke up, and all through breakfast. There was this male nurse there and he was my favorite person in the world! He snuck me extra ice cream during our "snack times" and called me 'KC' and 'K Dizzle'. He made me feel like a person, and not a mental case like some of the other nurses did. My mom got there at lunch time and I cried again, and then I asked her to bring me decent food so I wouldn't whither away to nothing. Because, ya know, going one day without food would make me look like a skeleton obviously. After lunch I started loosening up a little bit, and started talking to the other patients. I even laughed a little. My mom brought me Cook Out that night (bless you Mother, bless you) and I cannot even begin to tell you how grateful I was for greasy, fattening, delicious food. That night while she was visiting she got to meet one of the most interesting patients and his friend. I'm surprised more people aren't admitted after meeting this guy. Our favorite quote of his? While noticing that a visitor was looking at him in disgust after hearing some of our conversations he yells "Oh I'm in the nut house and I'm hearing strange things!" And my mom called the guys friend a rude name, but it's ok because he totally set himself up for it.
The next day the Doctor said I could go, and told me that he hoped that every rapist in the world could go to jail and get raped and see how it feels. Best psychiatrist ever. I'm sure they were glad to get rid of me. There was this guy whose name was Perry and I followed him around going "Hey, Where's Perry?" Phineas and Ferb reference...woo hoo! Probably not smart tormenting other patients, but ya know. My phone call to my mom was "They said I can leave. Hurry up and get me the hell out of here." She got me, my two favorite nurses said they hoped they never saw me in there again, and I walked to the car with my mom. She started asking me questions in the car and I really just needed her to leave the parking lot because I was afraid they would change their mind and run out and drag me back inside. I demanded she take me to Moe's for lunch so that's where we went. Three quarters of the way through my burrito I found a hair mixed with my beans and rice. I was so disgusted and grossed out that they should have just thrown me back in the looney bin. No joke. My parents call me Chief because of this experience. If you don't know who Chief is, do yourself a favor and go watch One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Mmmmmm Juicy Fruit!
That Saturday I started developing a cold which I blamed on the roommate I had in the psych ward. We wanted to make tshirts that said "I went to the nut house and all I came back with was this stupid cold." I also made my mom spoil me rotten until she left that next Tuesday. We still make jokes about that whole experience. It wasn't funny at first. It was like a whole new trauma. But now my attitude is, if you can't laugh about it, what CAN you do?
I know there are people reading this judging me to the extreme, and you know what? Whatever. You wouldn't understand unless you had been in my shoes. The things that sucked afterwards? The fact that one of my roommates pretty much stopped talking to me right then. And I hope one day she sees this. She'll probably be mad, but she treated me like crap so she kind of deserves to be called out on it. Anyway I love my mom and dad and sisters for laughing about it with me. I love my friends for listening when I feel I need to bring it up. I love Marilyn for staying calm while I was having the biggest freak out of my life, and I love everyone who hasn't judged me on it.
If you want a vacation, though, I don't suggest checking in at a mental facility. Just sayin.
Anyway, onto the story about the hospital. So one day I'm having an amazing day. I was in such a great mood! Student teaching had started, I was making great memories with friends and I was genuinely happy. That afternoon I had an appointment with my therapist at the time. She's kind of an awkward person and I didn't really feel like she was actually helping me. She gave the same advice over and over even though it was clearly not effective. I walk....no....I BOUNCE into her office and start telling her how awesome everything is. What does she ask? "Since I saw you last (a month ago) have you had any suicidal thoughts?" My answer? "Oh yeah, here and there. I don't have a plan, don't know how I'd do it, kind of a fleeting thought once in a while that maybe things would be better if I were just gone but no big deal. I wouldn't go through with it." Apparently it was a big deal because all of a sudden we're making a safety plan and she's telling me to contact people to ask their permission to be my in-state emergency contacts, and then we're coming up with how to tell my roommates to hide all of the knives and razors and medications. Then BOOM my session is over and I'm leaving with my head spinning feeling absolutely insane. Was what I said really that bad? Was it really so alarming?? I get in my car and made a couple of phone calls to my emergency contacts. Then while I'm driving I call my mom and start sobbing, and she can't understand a word I'm saying and she's telling me to call Marilyn because she's actually in the state and nearby-ish and my mom's freaking out. So I call Marilyn even though I had just talked to her like 10 minutes ago, and I'm pretty sure I scared the life out of her, and she tells me to go into my apartment and find my roommate because my roommates were home and actually within 100 feet of me. SO I go inside and my roommate starts freaking out and trying to convince me to go to the hospital, and long story short I relented and suddenly she's driving me to a freaking mental facility. And at the time everyone thought that would be best because the people there are trained to deal with me. I'm not mad about how everyone reacted (except my roommates. one ignored me and the other one got super dramatic)...they didn't know what else to do and they love me and I know that's why the things that transpired did.
I get to this place and they tell me I can voluntarily be admitted or they'll just do it themselves. I voluntarily did it because I figured I had a better chance of leaving sooner if I did. I cried this entire time. I was scared! I walk into the back hallway and see people shuffling around in slippers and looking like something out of the movies. I was crying so much the nurse had to put a yellow bracelet on me that said "Fall Risk". For anyone who knows me, this is HILARIOUS. I don't need to be crying to fall. I'm a 24/7 fall risk. I still have that bracelet....I might frame it ;) I talked to my mom on the phone and she told me she'd be catching a flight out in the morning and be here in time for afternoon visiting hours. In my mind I was trying to plan my escape. I went and laid down, but I couldn't sleep. Finally a nurse walked in with a flashlight and was all "Hey want an Ambien to help you sleep?" I told her I loved her....and then I fell into a deep sleep for hours.
I was still in a bad mood when I woke up, and all through breakfast. There was this male nurse there and he was my favorite person in the world! He snuck me extra ice cream during our "snack times" and called me 'KC' and 'K Dizzle'. He made me feel like a person, and not a mental case like some of the other nurses did. My mom got there at lunch time and I cried again, and then I asked her to bring me decent food so I wouldn't whither away to nothing. Because, ya know, going one day without food would make me look like a skeleton obviously. After lunch I started loosening up a little bit, and started talking to the other patients. I even laughed a little. My mom brought me Cook Out that night (bless you Mother, bless you) and I cannot even begin to tell you how grateful I was for greasy, fattening, delicious food. That night while she was visiting she got to meet one of the most interesting patients and his friend. I'm surprised more people aren't admitted after meeting this guy. Our favorite quote of his? While noticing that a visitor was looking at him in disgust after hearing some of our conversations he yells "Oh I'm in the nut house and I'm hearing strange things!" And my mom called the guys friend a rude name, but it's ok because he totally set himself up for it.
The next day the Doctor said I could go, and told me that he hoped that every rapist in the world could go to jail and get raped and see how it feels. Best psychiatrist ever. I'm sure they were glad to get rid of me. There was this guy whose name was Perry and I followed him around going "Hey, Where's Perry?" Phineas and Ferb reference...woo hoo! Probably not smart tormenting other patients, but ya know. My phone call to my mom was "They said I can leave. Hurry up and get me the hell out of here." She got me, my two favorite nurses said they hoped they never saw me in there again, and I walked to the car with my mom. She started asking me questions in the car and I really just needed her to leave the parking lot because I was afraid they would change their mind and run out and drag me back inside. I demanded she take me to Moe's for lunch so that's where we went. Three quarters of the way through my burrito I found a hair mixed with my beans and rice. I was so disgusted and grossed out that they should have just thrown me back in the looney bin. No joke. My parents call me Chief because of this experience. If you don't know who Chief is, do yourself a favor and go watch One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Mmmmmm Juicy Fruit!
That Saturday I started developing a cold which I blamed on the roommate I had in the psych ward. We wanted to make tshirts that said "I went to the nut house and all I came back with was this stupid cold." I also made my mom spoil me rotten until she left that next Tuesday. We still make jokes about that whole experience. It wasn't funny at first. It was like a whole new trauma. But now my attitude is, if you can't laugh about it, what CAN you do?
I know there are people reading this judging me to the extreme, and you know what? Whatever. You wouldn't understand unless you had been in my shoes. The things that sucked afterwards? The fact that one of my roommates pretty much stopped talking to me right then. And I hope one day she sees this. She'll probably be mad, but she treated me like crap so she kind of deserves to be called out on it. Anyway I love my mom and dad and sisters for laughing about it with me. I love my friends for listening when I feel I need to bring it up. I love Marilyn for staying calm while I was having the biggest freak out of my life, and I love everyone who hasn't judged me on it.
If you want a vacation, though, I don't suggest checking in at a mental facility. Just sayin.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Questions I Should Never Have Had to Answer....But I Will
You would not believe the ridiculous kinds of questions I have gotten since my assault. Or maybe you will believe it, because that's just the type of world we live in. These questions have been heavy on my mind the last few days and I've decided the best way to deal with them is to answer them honestly. Being asked these questions has definitely been, at times, awful and irritating. People have made me feel like they're questioning the validity of my story. So why am I answering them now? Because maybe my responses will make some of you realize some of the things you've said were wrong, and maybe all of you will get a little more insight into how assault victims are continuously challenged.
1. Well, what were you wearing?
My favorite question. I was not wearing booty shorts, or some midriff baring top (an overweight 20 something in too tight clothes....that's appealing. I wish I could virtually roll my eyes.) I was wearing an old tattered School of Ed tshirt, my comfy jeans that have a little give that I used to wear all of the time (and thanks to a certain someone those jeans are forever in an evidence locker with the FBI....thanks a lot dbag.) and rainbows. No cleav, no buns, no makeup, and I'm honestly not even sure I brushed my teeth that day to be totally and completely honest. And while we're being honest, I could have been wearing daisy dukes, my boobs could have been completely hanging out.....seriously I could have been laying there completely naked....and he still had NO right to attack me. Don't ever ask a girl what she was wearing when she was raped, makes you sound ignorant. Rapists don't only go for girls who look like America's Next Top Model...they go for girls who are in a vulnerable state that they can manipulate. Was I in a vulnerable state? I'll be honest again....I was drinking, I was having a low "I feel fat" day and the fact that this guy was still flirting with me made it possible for him to lure me into a trap I couldn't get out of. And that's all I gotta say about that.
2. Why didn't you fight harder?
&%^&%$%^&#%(*)(*@(! Are you SERIOUS? You really think I didn't FIGHT? I scratched, bit, slapped, tried to squirm away. He was stronger than me and I was in a terrified state. The whole thing was so confusing and shocking I wasn't even SURE what was happening for a hot minute. When the physical fight wasn't working I turned to words. I pleaded, I begged, I made promises. Do you think that worked? No! He didn't care. After a certain point you accept that you'll probably die, and you lay there and take it hoping that he either stops hurting you soon or kills you immediately so you don't have to deal with it. That's the harsh reality of it, and I've gotten a lot of crap about having the wrong attitude in that situation. Screw you, I can have whatever attitude I want, did you not hear the part when I said I was pretty sure he was gonna kill me anyway? In that moment I really just wanted it to end and I didn't care how. And I never want to get this question again because someone will probably need to restrain me if I do.
3. Are you sure that's what happened? He's such a nice guy!
Yes I'm sure, no he's not a nice guy. There are a lot of things I would like to call him, but for the sake of those of you who frown upon swear words, I'll keep them to myself and yell them at inanimate objects while I'm home alone instead.
Let me preface Question 4 with this....this question has made this list because after it is answered the person who asked it almost always said "So are you sure you just didn't go too far and regret it?"
4. Were you a virgin when this happened?
Of all the personal questions you could ask, why this? I'm trying to do this thing these days where I keep no secrets so I will answer it....but it's a super awkward question when people you aren't that close to ask. I think I told my mom this answer (she NEVER asked...she's a smart lady, I just felt like getting it out there) and I was uncomfortable telling my mom. So anyway....yes I was. I wasn't unhappy with that either, I was pretty content with the fact that I'd wait until I was sure I was ready. I'm not really a one night stand, 3am one time hook up with a random guy type of girl (and I'm not bashing anyone who is, I'm just saying that's not my thing). I did not choose to have sex with him, he chose to take my right to decide away. I didn't consent and I had nothing to regret. Basically this question is just one of those things that make me cringe. Glad we got that over with.
5. Do you normally have a reputation?
Have I on occasion made out with guys while I was drinking for no reason other than I was drinking and thought it was fun? Yes. And I know I'm not the only one so don't you dare judge me for that. Do I have a reputation though? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? Are you asking if I sleep around? Am I promiscuous? Do I throw myself at random guys? No, I don't do any of those things. Also though, I could be working the corner, sleeping with a different dude everynight, but as soon as I say no.....GAME OVER. Think before you speak. THINK. BEFORE. YOU. SPEAK.
6. Why aren't you over it already?
I'll be gentle with this response. I got this question after spending a month literally laying on the couch staring at the ceiling, barely talking, crying constantly, and never wanting to leave my apartment. At that point I was struggling with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD. I was incredibly depressed, figured no one would care whether I was social or not, and really just did not care. I wasn't 'over it' because I hadn't really gotten a chance to grieve....that's right, grieve. I had lost a lot and had originally decided living in denial was way better than facing it. I will never get over it, this is a scar that you can't see but will always be there. There will be times I'll be triggered by something (for the longest time it was toothpaste...I'll explain in a later post) and lose it for days. All I ask is that people stay patient. It's a traumatic thing you go through and it's something I can't erase. Whether I wanted it to or not it has changed my life and my views on certain things. It has literally changed me forever. I will never 'get over it'. EVER.
If you're still reading this and aren't freaked out by how personal I got, I applaud you. I hope most of you are shaking your heads in disgust towards some of the things I've been asked and I REALLY HOPE that if someone were to tell you this happened to them you wouldn't ask one of these stupid questions. I pray that the first words out of your mouth would be "Are you ok? How can I help?"
1. Well, what were you wearing?
My favorite question. I was not wearing booty shorts, or some midriff baring top (an overweight 20 something in too tight clothes....that's appealing. I wish I could virtually roll my eyes.) I was wearing an old tattered School of Ed tshirt, my comfy jeans that have a little give that I used to wear all of the time (and thanks to a certain someone those jeans are forever in an evidence locker with the FBI....thanks a lot dbag.) and rainbows. No cleav, no buns, no makeup, and I'm honestly not even sure I brushed my teeth that day to be totally and completely honest. And while we're being honest, I could have been wearing daisy dukes, my boobs could have been completely hanging out.....seriously I could have been laying there completely naked....and he still had NO right to attack me. Don't ever ask a girl what she was wearing when she was raped, makes you sound ignorant. Rapists don't only go for girls who look like America's Next Top Model...they go for girls who are in a vulnerable state that they can manipulate. Was I in a vulnerable state? I'll be honest again....I was drinking, I was having a low "I feel fat" day and the fact that this guy was still flirting with me made it possible for him to lure me into a trap I couldn't get out of. And that's all I gotta say about that.
2. Why didn't you fight harder?
&%^&%$%^&#%(*)(*@(! Are you SERIOUS? You really think I didn't FIGHT? I scratched, bit, slapped, tried to squirm away. He was stronger than me and I was in a terrified state. The whole thing was so confusing and shocking I wasn't even SURE what was happening for a hot minute. When the physical fight wasn't working I turned to words. I pleaded, I begged, I made promises. Do you think that worked? No! He didn't care. After a certain point you accept that you'll probably die, and you lay there and take it hoping that he either stops hurting you soon or kills you immediately so you don't have to deal with it. That's the harsh reality of it, and I've gotten a lot of crap about having the wrong attitude in that situation. Screw you, I can have whatever attitude I want, did you not hear the part when I said I was pretty sure he was gonna kill me anyway? In that moment I really just wanted it to end and I didn't care how. And I never want to get this question again because someone will probably need to restrain me if I do.
3. Are you sure that's what happened? He's such a nice guy!
Yes I'm sure, no he's not a nice guy. There are a lot of things I would like to call him, but for the sake of those of you who frown upon swear words, I'll keep them to myself and yell them at inanimate objects while I'm home alone instead.
Let me preface Question 4 with this....this question has made this list because after it is answered the person who asked it almost always said "So are you sure you just didn't go too far and regret it?"
4. Were you a virgin when this happened?
Of all the personal questions you could ask, why this? I'm trying to do this thing these days where I keep no secrets so I will answer it....but it's a super awkward question when people you aren't that close to ask. I think I told my mom this answer (she NEVER asked...she's a smart lady, I just felt like getting it out there) and I was uncomfortable telling my mom. So anyway....yes I was. I wasn't unhappy with that either, I was pretty content with the fact that I'd wait until I was sure I was ready. I'm not really a one night stand, 3am one time hook up with a random guy type of girl (and I'm not bashing anyone who is, I'm just saying that's not my thing). I did not choose to have sex with him, he chose to take my right to decide away. I didn't consent and I had nothing to regret. Basically this question is just one of those things that make me cringe. Glad we got that over with.
5. Do you normally have a reputation?
Have I on occasion made out with guys while I was drinking for no reason other than I was drinking and thought it was fun? Yes. And I know I'm not the only one so don't you dare judge me for that. Do I have a reputation though? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? Are you asking if I sleep around? Am I promiscuous? Do I throw myself at random guys? No, I don't do any of those things. Also though, I could be working the corner, sleeping with a different dude everynight, but as soon as I say no.....GAME OVER. Think before you speak. THINK. BEFORE. YOU. SPEAK.
6. Why aren't you over it already?
I'll be gentle with this response. I got this question after spending a month literally laying on the couch staring at the ceiling, barely talking, crying constantly, and never wanting to leave my apartment. At that point I was struggling with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD. I was incredibly depressed, figured no one would care whether I was social or not, and really just did not care. I wasn't 'over it' because I hadn't really gotten a chance to grieve....that's right, grieve. I had lost a lot and had originally decided living in denial was way better than facing it. I will never get over it, this is a scar that you can't see but will always be there. There will be times I'll be triggered by something (for the longest time it was toothpaste...I'll explain in a later post) and lose it for days. All I ask is that people stay patient. It's a traumatic thing you go through and it's something I can't erase. Whether I wanted it to or not it has changed my life and my views on certain things. It has literally changed me forever. I will never 'get over it'. EVER.
If you're still reading this and aren't freaked out by how personal I got, I applaud you. I hope most of you are shaking your heads in disgust towards some of the things I've been asked and I REALLY HOPE that if someone were to tell you this happened to them you wouldn't ask one of these stupid questions. I pray that the first words out of your mouth would be "Are you ok? How can I help?"
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Friends
One of the very first things I had to deal with after I was raped was the backlash I received from my so called friends. As if being physically harmed wasn't enough, try having people you thought you could trust calling you names and telling you you asked for it. I heard the words slut, whore, bitch being hissed in my direction so many times I was beginning to believe they really truly described my character. Every time I told a friend why I disappeared to NY for an entire summer I cringed; waited to hear whose side they would choose to take. Why should HIS side even be an option? Why did people refuse to believe me?
I began thinking I really was crazy and have developed some awful trust issues since. I don't trust anyone. How could I after the way I'd been treated? First I was physically attacked, and now this? And let's face it, we can say that "sticks and stones" crap all we want, but words will ALWAYS hurt.
I started pulling away from friends who had stuck by me for the most part....I started pulling away from my family too. I didn't feel like explaining myself to people anymore and like I've already said, I trusted few people. I have to admit that some of the friendships that were destroyed were partially my fault. Note I said SOME not ALL. I took little comments personally, went after people verbally, and helped to destroy relationships I had tried so hard to keep together. Some of those people know I've taken responsibility for that and we've started to build those relationships back.
Walking around campus being harassed and tormented, though, were acts that were so unthinkable and ridiculous that I have no interest in reaching out to those people. You drove me to the brink of suicide, you made me feel alone, and you made me want to never deal with another human being again. I don't know how you can live with something like that on your conscience and have no regrets for your actions. It baffles me.
When I was in the hospital after having a complete meltdown, do you know how I was treated by someone I called one of my best friends? I was ignored, and looked at like I had some kind of disease she didn't want to contract. Another one told the roommate of my rapist where I lived, where I student taught, what car I drove. Those are two people that will never be forgiven (at this point, anyway). You helped make my life an absolute living hell, I can never forget that.
It probably sounds like I have no friends at all, but I really do. There were some who were told about the entire situation and stuck by me the entire way. Shout out to Whitney who in my mind is a hero for making a phone call to me and also for letting me live on her couch for 2.5 weeks. She didn't have to do that. My friends who called to make sure I was ok, who lent a shoulder when I needed to cry it out, who kept me occupied so I wouldn't spend 8 hours a day staring at the wall (my favorite activity before I started getting help for my depression).....they didn't HAVE to do any of that. But they did. They did it because they are amazing individuals, they did it because they have huge hearts, and they did it because they were true friends.
I've been saying from the start that this entire thing sucks, but it has shown me who my true friends are and I will always be grateful for being able to see that. It's sad to know that I would have been there for anyone who needed me, and they couldn't bring themselves to do the same. I'm even blown away that after starting this blog last night, the friends I never told have rallied around me so quickly it makes my head spin.
If you're reading this thinking "people suck" well they do. But there are a lot of good people in the world....they're out there. They're awesome. And finding them has been worth all of the struggle.
I began thinking I really was crazy and have developed some awful trust issues since. I don't trust anyone. How could I after the way I'd been treated? First I was physically attacked, and now this? And let's face it, we can say that "sticks and stones" crap all we want, but words will ALWAYS hurt.
I started pulling away from friends who had stuck by me for the most part....I started pulling away from my family too. I didn't feel like explaining myself to people anymore and like I've already said, I trusted few people. I have to admit that some of the friendships that were destroyed were partially my fault. Note I said SOME not ALL. I took little comments personally, went after people verbally, and helped to destroy relationships I had tried so hard to keep together. Some of those people know I've taken responsibility for that and we've started to build those relationships back.
Walking around campus being harassed and tormented, though, were acts that were so unthinkable and ridiculous that I have no interest in reaching out to those people. You drove me to the brink of suicide, you made me feel alone, and you made me want to never deal with another human being again. I don't know how you can live with something like that on your conscience and have no regrets for your actions. It baffles me.
When I was in the hospital after having a complete meltdown, do you know how I was treated by someone I called one of my best friends? I was ignored, and looked at like I had some kind of disease she didn't want to contract. Another one told the roommate of my rapist where I lived, where I student taught, what car I drove. Those are two people that will never be forgiven (at this point, anyway). You helped make my life an absolute living hell, I can never forget that.
It probably sounds like I have no friends at all, but I really do. There were some who were told about the entire situation and stuck by me the entire way. Shout out to Whitney who in my mind is a hero for making a phone call to me and also for letting me live on her couch for 2.5 weeks. She didn't have to do that. My friends who called to make sure I was ok, who lent a shoulder when I needed to cry it out, who kept me occupied so I wouldn't spend 8 hours a day staring at the wall (my favorite activity before I started getting help for my depression).....they didn't HAVE to do any of that. But they did. They did it because they are amazing individuals, they did it because they have huge hearts, and they did it because they were true friends.
I've been saying from the start that this entire thing sucks, but it has shown me who my true friends are and I will always be grateful for being able to see that. It's sad to know that I would have been there for anyone who needed me, and they couldn't bring themselves to do the same. I'm even blown away that after starting this blog last night, the friends I never told have rallied around me so quickly it makes my head spin.
If you're reading this thinking "people suck" well they do. But there are a lot of good people in the world....they're out there. They're awesome. And finding them has been worth all of the struggle.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Putting My Heart and Soul into This Blog
I decided I needed to start a blog for my own sanity and healing. Some of the things you'll read on here will come as a shock to you, as for the last year I have kept many things secret. I am done being ashamed, I am done being scared. I lost many things since May 6, 2011 but my voice is not one of them. I am writing this blog in the hopes that it will someday help another girl who may be just like me. I also hope it will help educate all of you on the effects of rape and sexual violence. The most important thing at this point is for you to know my story, and why I feel so strongly about this. To my family and friends who are reading this and had no clue, I hope you can forgive me for not being as open as you would have liked. I am not looking for anyone's sympathy......I don't want you to feel bad for me. That's not my purpose...my purpose is to use my words to help others understand.
On May 5, 2011 I went to a small party at a friend's apartment. I thought I would have a great night, I never expected my life to be completely turned upside down. By midnight there were only 5 of us left. We were drinking, laughing, listening to music, arguing about who would buy everyone pizza. One of his roommates was pretty cute in my opinion and I flirted with him like crazy. He flirted right on back and I really ended up liking him. He was funny, liked the same type of music and just seemed like a genuinely nice guy. I ended up kissing him....a lot, and after a while I noticed my friend being weird and just staring at us. When his roommate asked if I'd rather go upstairs where my friend wasn't being a total creep I agreed. There was a living room area up there and I felt safe with him. Biggest mistake of my life. To make a long story short, we ended up in his bedroom where he raped and threatened to kill me for 2.5 hours. The longest 2.5 hours of my life. I walked out of that room shaking and immediately asked my friend to take me home. 20 Minutes after he dropped me off he called to ask what happened. After I told him everything he told me that he was not blaming my rapist because I had been drinking and should have been more careful. I took a shower and went to bed. The entire next day I replayed what happened in my head. Had I wanted it? Was what happened to me ok? Why did I feel so disgusting? Was I that drunk? I was afraid to call the police because I wouldn't be 21 for a couple of more weeks and I didn't want to get in any trouble. After many hours, and 3 showers trying to scrub the disgust off of me, I called a friend and confided in her. Her reaction? "He RAPED you! Call the police I'll be there in 15 minutes." I will never forget that. Thank you Cassy for being there for me that night. The police came and took a statement and asked if I wanted to press charges. I did. I was then taken to the ER where I sat from 10:30pm until 8:30 am being poked and prodded, interviewed again and again. Going through the trauma of a rape kit in the hopes I could get some justice. I called my mom and finally broke down. The next week was filled with police interviews and physical healing. I was starting to realize that though my physical bruises were healing, I had a long road ahead of me for the mental and emotional bruises. In June I got the call that despite efforts from the detective working on my case, the coward who changed my life would never be formally charged or arrested.
In October 2011 I became so depressed I wanted to kill myself. I was about to do it when a friend called and invited me over that night, not taking no for an answer. I truly believe that phone call is what saved my life. After that I started seeing a psychiatrist and was put on anti depressants and medication for anxiety. I slowly started returning to my "normal" self with a lot of help from therapy. In January I took a few steps back when I ended up in the Cone Behavioral Health hospital after a misunderstanding with my therapist at the time. That experience was terrifying to me....mainly because I had felt I shouldn't be there. After a change of therapist and medications I began feeling a lot better. In March my car was keyed and my tires slashed....I can only assume it was the jerks involved in my assault, which brought me back to an awful place. I was stalked and harassed and forced to leave my home. I no longer felt safe.
After moving in April I began to REALLY piece my life back together. I got a call in June that the guy who raped me was accused of raping another girl somewhere else. Her case was dropped as well.
Why am I putting all of this on the internet? Why am I telling you people? Because I have the hope that one day someone will see this and know that if I survived they can too. Did all of this suck? Hell yeah it did. Did I make it? Yes. Do I have a lot to look forward to? Absolutely. There are a lot of stories in the media about rape and sexual violence and I've realized so many people don't know the statistics, don't know how to handle the information they're given, and think 'that could never happen to me'. I never thought it could happen to me. I lived in a bubble. It sucks that it happened, but it really has made me stronger. And I'm ready to find my voice again. If you're still reading this, I hope you'll join me on my journey...and invite others to join as well. Who knows, maybe someday this could really impact someone.
On May 5, 2011 I went to a small party at a friend's apartment. I thought I would have a great night, I never expected my life to be completely turned upside down. By midnight there were only 5 of us left. We were drinking, laughing, listening to music, arguing about who would buy everyone pizza. One of his roommates was pretty cute in my opinion and I flirted with him like crazy. He flirted right on back and I really ended up liking him. He was funny, liked the same type of music and just seemed like a genuinely nice guy. I ended up kissing him....a lot, and after a while I noticed my friend being weird and just staring at us. When his roommate asked if I'd rather go upstairs where my friend wasn't being a total creep I agreed. There was a living room area up there and I felt safe with him. Biggest mistake of my life. To make a long story short, we ended up in his bedroom where he raped and threatened to kill me for 2.5 hours. The longest 2.5 hours of my life. I walked out of that room shaking and immediately asked my friend to take me home. 20 Minutes after he dropped me off he called to ask what happened. After I told him everything he told me that he was not blaming my rapist because I had been drinking and should have been more careful. I took a shower and went to bed. The entire next day I replayed what happened in my head. Had I wanted it? Was what happened to me ok? Why did I feel so disgusting? Was I that drunk? I was afraid to call the police because I wouldn't be 21 for a couple of more weeks and I didn't want to get in any trouble. After many hours, and 3 showers trying to scrub the disgust off of me, I called a friend and confided in her. Her reaction? "He RAPED you! Call the police I'll be there in 15 minutes." I will never forget that. Thank you Cassy for being there for me that night. The police came and took a statement and asked if I wanted to press charges. I did. I was then taken to the ER where I sat from 10:30pm until 8:30 am being poked and prodded, interviewed again and again. Going through the trauma of a rape kit in the hopes I could get some justice. I called my mom and finally broke down. The next week was filled with police interviews and physical healing. I was starting to realize that though my physical bruises were healing, I had a long road ahead of me for the mental and emotional bruises. In June I got the call that despite efforts from the detective working on my case, the coward who changed my life would never be formally charged or arrested.
In October 2011 I became so depressed I wanted to kill myself. I was about to do it when a friend called and invited me over that night, not taking no for an answer. I truly believe that phone call is what saved my life. After that I started seeing a psychiatrist and was put on anti depressants and medication for anxiety. I slowly started returning to my "normal" self with a lot of help from therapy. In January I took a few steps back when I ended up in the Cone Behavioral Health hospital after a misunderstanding with my therapist at the time. That experience was terrifying to me....mainly because I had felt I shouldn't be there. After a change of therapist and medications I began feeling a lot better. In March my car was keyed and my tires slashed....I can only assume it was the jerks involved in my assault, which brought me back to an awful place. I was stalked and harassed and forced to leave my home. I no longer felt safe.
After moving in April I began to REALLY piece my life back together. I got a call in June that the guy who raped me was accused of raping another girl somewhere else. Her case was dropped as well.
Why am I putting all of this on the internet? Why am I telling you people? Because I have the hope that one day someone will see this and know that if I survived they can too. Did all of this suck? Hell yeah it did. Did I make it? Yes. Do I have a lot to look forward to? Absolutely. There are a lot of stories in the media about rape and sexual violence and I've realized so many people don't know the statistics, don't know how to handle the information they're given, and think 'that could never happen to me'. I never thought it could happen to me. I lived in a bubble. It sucks that it happened, but it really has made me stronger. And I'm ready to find my voice again. If you're still reading this, I hope you'll join me on my journey...and invite others to join as well. Who knows, maybe someday this could really impact someone.
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