Finally found my medicine and should be good to go for at least 2 weeks until I can find a new Dr. Yay! :) Today was the first day in weeks that I actually felt calm, and didn't have a huge knot in my stomach all day. Doesn't mean today was perfect, just means it was pretty close until someone stupid ruined it. Oh well.
I decided to skip therapy today....I feel like it's not helping too much at this point. I've been sort of bored the past few times I've been there. The other people I talk to there are in a much different place than I am and I think that contributes to me not wanting to be there. I guess we'll see what happens. I know I won't always be in a great place, but while I'm in a decent place I want to make sure I stay there for as long as possible and hearing other's stories doesn't really help that.
I have come SUCH a long way since last fall, it's incredible. At this point last year I was battling severe depression and anxiety, I hadn't been diagnosed with PTSD yet and I didn't know how I was going to make it through. I hated people, I was bitter, I was done. Now I'm looking at today. I have a great job, I've made some wonderful friends, I no longer battle depression, and I (at this point) am able to control my anxiety with a little help :)
The things I've realized will never change are that I will always be a rape survivor. That is something that will never go away and I need to start trying to accept that I was raped and move on with my life. It's hard, and it will always come back to my mind. I am not saying I will just forget about it and live like it never happened because THAT will NEVER happen. What I'm saying is, I need to start focusing on the really amazing things going on right now.
So I have a plan right now for staying in a good place and trying to be as stress free as possible. I'll make a list:
1. Watch Dance Moms and Here Comes Honey Boo Boo as much as possible because both of those shows are so freaking funny.
2. Go bother Whitney as much as possible since we work together and never see each other and she makes me laugh.
3. Utilize the stress lego on my desk :)
4. Let the haterz be my inspiratorz
5. Whenever I think of the night I was raped and the guy who did it, remind myself that he WILL do it again (I already know he's done it at least one more time after me and got away with it again) and eventually get caught.
Number 5 is really important because I tend to focus on the fact that he hurt me and got away with it. Guys like that almost always commit the same crime again. I would never wish this kind of pain on another person. I hope, though, that if he does do it again this girl will be braver than I was and go to the police right away. I pray she doesn't wait like I did.
All in all I'm in a good mood today which was great because I was really able to see all of the positive things in my life. I appreciate everyone who has stuck by my side :) And I appreciate new friends who decided I was still cool even though my life has been turned into a hot mess the past year!
I'm going to leave you with a quote I saw today that I am in love with. "Damaged people are dangerous, they know they can survive." Watch out y'all I may be picking up the pieces (still) but I made it once, and I know I can make it through anything. COME AT ME LIFE.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Welcome to My Struggle
I feel like even though I put everything out there for everyone to read, you can't really get a great feel for what I go through on a daily basis. I've said before I have great days, I have OK days, and I have horrible days. Today was a horrible day, and a perfect example of how these scars and this pain will never go away no matter how hard I try.
I was on medication this past October through mid April. I was taking it for anxiety and depression, and decided to quit cold turkey in April because I was feeling wonderful about life. Today, I decided I need to go back on my medication for anxiety. Do you know I was told once that anxiety is a fake affliction? If I could tell you honestly the tightness in my chest and the knot in my stomach I get when I'm anxious was fake, I would. Those things are extremely real, extremely uncomfortable, and truly extremely embarrassing. I don't want to feel this way when I'm under stress.
The past couple of weeks have been mildly stressful. Seeing a certain someone the other night added to that stress. I have had a horrible time sleeping, my nightmares are coming back, and I feel sick every time I have to ask people questions. This hasn't happened in months. Tonight I was babysitting and felt fine, but then I checked my email and Facebook while the kids were in bed. I was bombarded with questions by people which is normally fine, but this time it just really stressed me out. On the way home when I was left alone to just drive and think, I lost it. It is so STUPID that little things built up to result in an hour and a half's worth of crying. I hate crying. It makes my eyes puffy and unattractive and my nose runs and boogers just really gross me out y'all, it's messy and ugly. NOT CUTE.
I think the thing that frustrates me the most is that if I had never been raped, I would not be going through this. It's not fair. It's not fair. IT IS NOT FAIR. He pretty much GAVE me PTSD, and that is something that is clearly clinging on a little too long for my comfort. Fortunately, the depression part of it isn't making a comeback. I am SO happy with how my life is going (for the most part) which sounds like a contradiction to everything else I just said, but I swear it makes sense. Unfortunately, the anxiety portion is the worst in my mind. I believe it's because I'm the most aware of the anxiety. The depression wasn't noticeable until people started pointing it out....it's general fatigue and loss of interest and that wasn't a big thing in my brain. The anxiety, on the other hand, is very 'there' to me. It actually results in real, physical pain. And it sucks. I hate it. I wish it would go away.
I am not happy tonight, I am aggravated. If anyone feels like driving over here and giving me a huge hug (a good one not a stupid wimpy one) I would not be opposed. Unlike my last post, I have no personal space issues today. I want people all up in my grill :) To some of you this all may sound like whining....but this is my reality. This is what I have to deal with. And sometimes it just plain old sucks.
I was on medication this past October through mid April. I was taking it for anxiety and depression, and decided to quit cold turkey in April because I was feeling wonderful about life. Today, I decided I need to go back on my medication for anxiety. Do you know I was told once that anxiety is a fake affliction? If I could tell you honestly the tightness in my chest and the knot in my stomach I get when I'm anxious was fake, I would. Those things are extremely real, extremely uncomfortable, and truly extremely embarrassing. I don't want to feel this way when I'm under stress.
The past couple of weeks have been mildly stressful. Seeing a certain someone the other night added to that stress. I have had a horrible time sleeping, my nightmares are coming back, and I feel sick every time I have to ask people questions. This hasn't happened in months. Tonight I was babysitting and felt fine, but then I checked my email and Facebook while the kids were in bed. I was bombarded with questions by people which is normally fine, but this time it just really stressed me out. On the way home when I was left alone to just drive and think, I lost it. It is so STUPID that little things built up to result in an hour and a half's worth of crying. I hate crying. It makes my eyes puffy and unattractive and my nose runs and boogers just really gross me out y'all, it's messy and ugly. NOT CUTE.
I think the thing that frustrates me the most is that if I had never been raped, I would not be going through this. It's not fair. It's not fair. IT IS NOT FAIR. He pretty much GAVE me PTSD, and that is something that is clearly clinging on a little too long for my comfort. Fortunately, the depression part of it isn't making a comeback. I am SO happy with how my life is going (for the most part) which sounds like a contradiction to everything else I just said, but I swear it makes sense. Unfortunately, the anxiety portion is the worst in my mind. I believe it's because I'm the most aware of the anxiety. The depression wasn't noticeable until people started pointing it out....it's general fatigue and loss of interest and that wasn't a big thing in my brain. The anxiety, on the other hand, is very 'there' to me. It actually results in real, physical pain. And it sucks. I hate it. I wish it would go away.
I am not happy tonight, I am aggravated. If anyone feels like driving over here and giving me a huge hug (a good one not a stupid wimpy one) I would not be opposed. Unlike my last post, I have no personal space issues today. I want people all up in my grill :) To some of you this all may sound like whining....but this is my reality. This is what I have to deal with. And sometimes it just plain old sucks.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
If I Tell You I Don't Want A Hug....I Don't Want a Hug!
Y'all. Anyone who knows me knows I adore hugs. I like giving hugs, I like receiving hugs. But there are some days when I honestly just don't want one and today happened to be one of those days. So someone starts walking towards me, arms outstretched, ready to bring it in. I politely said "I'd prefer to go without a hug today...I'm just not feelin' it from anybody." Her response was "Shut up you're getting one anyway." And she grabbed me up into a bear hug and I bristled, and couldn't breathe and wanted to cry. These are not good things. If I ask you not to hug me, don't do it. Don't try to control me and act like you know what I want. If I say something like that it means I don't want anyone touching me, and I'm uncomfortable and having a rough day. I also don't want you to think you can't hug me....please do. But as soon as I say 'no thank you' you need to bring it back. This post better not bring on a lot of "Hey! Is it ok if I hug you?" Just go for it and if I don't want you to I'LL TELL YOU.
Also today I thought I was done for. I walk into Target and see the guy I was friends with before I was raped. The one whose roommate raped me. As soon as I saw him my stomach turned and I thought "this is it, I'm going to get killed in the middle of Target. At least I have witnesses." I am serious. I was terrified. He waved at me, but didn't approach. I think it had something to do with the hand gesture I threw his way. I will never understand how you tell your best friend it was her fault she was raped, harass her for a year afterwards, try to hunt her down, and then wave like you're BFFs when you run into her at the store. Where is that acceptable? Oh, yeah my bad. That's acceptable in this country where you can also rape a woman and get away with it.
Can y'all tell I am just not having any of it today? This happens from time to time. I showed up to therapy in sweats. Today I was merely surviving. This will pass, I always make it ok through a day like this, but it still sucks when it happens. I think that's the worst thing about this whole ordeal. No matter what, I will always have days that are bad sometimes, I will always be scarred, and nobody will ever know exactly the right thing to say every time.
Also today I thought I was done for. I walk into Target and see the guy I was friends with before I was raped. The one whose roommate raped me. As soon as I saw him my stomach turned and I thought "this is it, I'm going to get killed in the middle of Target. At least I have witnesses." I am serious. I was terrified. He waved at me, but didn't approach. I think it had something to do with the hand gesture I threw his way. I will never understand how you tell your best friend it was her fault she was raped, harass her for a year afterwards, try to hunt her down, and then wave like you're BFFs when you run into her at the store. Where is that acceptable? Oh, yeah my bad. That's acceptable in this country where you can also rape a woman and get away with it.
Can y'all tell I am just not having any of it today? This happens from time to time. I showed up to therapy in sweats. Today I was merely surviving. This will pass, I always make it ok through a day like this, but it still sucks when it happens. I think that's the worst thing about this whole ordeal. No matter what, I will always have days that are bad sometimes, I will always be scarred, and nobody will ever know exactly the right thing to say every time.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Todd Akin-----Missouri's Biggest Moron
I am positive most of you have read what this idiot who is running for Senate in Missouri said. He said that victims of "legitimate rape" can't become pregnant from said rape. Apparently women's bodies can detect when a rape is happening and their reproductive organs shut down and prevent them from becoming pregnant. Oh. My. Word. I have so many thoughts....SO MANY THOUGHTS.
First of all wtf is "legitimate rape"? Is that the kind where some masked stranger jumps out of the bushes in the middle of the night and tries to murder you at the same time? I'm just guessing. I'm disgusted by his implications that there is such a thing as illegitimate rape. This is not the olden days. There are several definitions of rape so go ahead and educate yourself.
Next thing.....your body shuts down if you're being raped and you can't get pregnant? Is this a for real serious thought? He claims he's talked to several doctors who have said this is true. I want names. They need to lose their right to practice medicine. If this were true why doesn't your heart shut down when you're scared? Why don't our lungs protect themselves if we smoke (which I don't do...just an example)? Why don't my intestines go into protection mode when I eat greasy food that makes my stomach turn? Why doesn't my liver walk away and shack up with my appendix for the night when I drink too much? If my other organs can't protect themselves from dangers then I don't think my reproductive system can. Is there some alarm system on my ovaries? My eggs carry swords and Captain America shields? Do I have little reproductive ninjas inside of me that can sense bad sperm? Seriously. I would love to know. The part about that claim that upsets me most is that this was something I had to worry about. I took emergency contraception at the ER and was told that it wasn't guaranteed to work. I was told that I should take a pregnancy test when I went for STD screening in a month. Something I had to think about was what I would do. Abortion? I didn't want that....I don't believe in it really and just didn't see that as an option, but I didn't want to be pregnant. Adoption? I didn't want to be pregnant and remain pregnant....what a reminder of my rape that would be every day. And I wasn't sure I could hand over a baby. Keep it? How could I treat a little human being fairly if I knew every day that this person was not created because I wanted him or her....they were created because I was attacked. How could I live with a reminder the rest of my life? These were decisions I never ever wanted to have to make and fortunately I didn't have to. The point is, though, that this was something I lived through and you have some old white dude telling the world that I never would have had to worry had I been legitimately raped.
Todd Akin you make me sick to my stomach. People like you are the reason people like me get so much crap when we've done nothing wrong.
First of all wtf is "legitimate rape"? Is that the kind where some masked stranger jumps out of the bushes in the middle of the night and tries to murder you at the same time? I'm just guessing. I'm disgusted by his implications that there is such a thing as illegitimate rape. This is not the olden days. There are several definitions of rape so go ahead and educate yourself.
Next thing.....your body shuts down if you're being raped and you can't get pregnant? Is this a for real serious thought? He claims he's talked to several doctors who have said this is true. I want names. They need to lose their right to practice medicine. If this were true why doesn't your heart shut down when you're scared? Why don't our lungs protect themselves if we smoke (which I don't do...just an example)? Why don't my intestines go into protection mode when I eat greasy food that makes my stomach turn? Why doesn't my liver walk away and shack up with my appendix for the night when I drink too much? If my other organs can't protect themselves from dangers then I don't think my reproductive system can. Is there some alarm system on my ovaries? My eggs carry swords and Captain America shields? Do I have little reproductive ninjas inside of me that can sense bad sperm? Seriously. I would love to know. The part about that claim that upsets me most is that this was something I had to worry about. I took emergency contraception at the ER and was told that it wasn't guaranteed to work. I was told that I should take a pregnancy test when I went for STD screening in a month. Something I had to think about was what I would do. Abortion? I didn't want that....I don't believe in it really and just didn't see that as an option, but I didn't want to be pregnant. Adoption? I didn't want to be pregnant and remain pregnant....what a reminder of my rape that would be every day. And I wasn't sure I could hand over a baby. Keep it? How could I treat a little human being fairly if I knew every day that this person was not created because I wanted him or her....they were created because I was attacked. How could I live with a reminder the rest of my life? These were decisions I never ever wanted to have to make and fortunately I didn't have to. The point is, though, that this was something I lived through and you have some old white dude telling the world that I never would have had to worry had I been legitimately raped.
Todd Akin you make me sick to my stomach. People like you are the reason people like me get so much crap when we've done nothing wrong.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Random Thoughts on a Saturday Night
I've been having a weird night and just felt like writing all of this stuff down might make my head stop spinning.
I was watching Easy A earlier which is one of my favorite movies ever! I watched it for 3 weeks straight last year when it was on Netflix. Why did I watch it so much? Because while my world was being flip, turned upside down (if you caught the Fresh Prince reference there you get major brownie points!) Easy A remained funny. As stupid as it sounds, that movie was my constant. Emma Stone was still hilarious no matter how many times I watched the movie and I loved the fact that I was able to remove myself from my problems and concern myself with the problems that arose in the movie.
You may be wondering why I'm even talking about this movie. See, the thing is, while I was watching the movie today it brought me back to the worst time I've ever had in my life. I could remember (in great detail) being raped, going to the police, telling my roommate, telling my parents, and being ripped away from everything that made sense and taken back to NY. Looking back I guess nothing made sense at all, but I didn't want to go back to NY all summer. I hated my parents for bringing me home (I felt like I had been pushed into it...when I had talked to my Dad on the phone it sounded like I didn't have a choice). Even though I know now that going home was the best thing for me, all the feelings of doubt I had came rushing back today.
I don't resent anyone for any decisions they made, or pushed me to make...I really don't. Honestly I couldn't have done better at the time! My brain was a pile of mush if I remember correctly. I couldn't function, I was running on little sleep and I thought that if I just denied anything ever happened I would be able to live normally like I always had. My parents and the people who stepped in right away actually probably saved me from myself and I just refused for a while to see it that way. Looking back, getting an hour of sleep a night, refusing to eat, and locking myself in my room most likely were not helpful to me at all. I remember one night I baked banana nut muffins at 3am and couldn't eat them. So instead, I took the plate outside, walked over to the train tracks and threw them at a fence. Cause that was healthy and safe.
I had to meet with the police a lot back then too and that sucked. Remembering it was worse. I was the one being interrogated (at least it felt that way). There were parts of my attack I couldn't remember (I still to this day cannot remember....things come to me in pieces, but I'm pretty sure out of sequence) and the detective kept pushing and pushing for me to remember. So I finally made something up. Do you know what he said to me? "Is that what actually happened or did you make it up so I would stop asking you?" Seriously dude if you're going to work in the Special Victims Unit you need to get your act together. Don't you DARE treat me like I'm the one who did something wrong. Let's not forget I was the victim in all of this. Law and Order SVU lied to me, detectives aren't that nice....they kind of suck. Well at least the one I had to deal with did. I may have called him some rude names after he said that to me....it was kind of a knee jerk reaction. That was how I was protecting myself. Don't pass judgment on me when you don't know what I've been through, and you better not pass judgment when it's your JOB to find out.
I remembered going to the ER. I remembered the Sexual Assault Nurse I had to put up with. I liked her at first until weeks later when I figured out she skipped over a crucial part of my exam so she wouldn't 'traumatize you again'. It's her job to take some more invasive measures than she did to see if there was any forensic evidence she could use against a rapist. She didn't do those. I hadn't really ever needed to go see a girly doctor (I'm only calling her that so I don't have to look up how to spell the correct name haha) and the tools this nurse was supposed to use are things that would have been used in a typical exam there. She told me that it was unnecessary to do that because she wouldn't be able to find anything anyway since I had showered several times before hand. I found out 3 weeks later from my normal doctor that if she had done what she was supposed to she could have found something (the evidence they needed would not have disappeared because of a few showers) and it may have been able to create a case against the guy who attacked me. I was livid. This was 2 days after I found out the charges had been dropped.
I remember being judged by people. I remember being judged by the nurse before my STD screening. I remember being judged by the woman taking my blood for an HIV test. They looked so disgusted, like I was the nastiest thing on the planet. I shouldn't have had to defend myself or explain, but I did anyway. Do you know what it feels like to have everything taken from you, to have everything you've ever known not make sense anymore, to feel violated and alone, to feel desperate for an answer to "why", to feel like scum because people make a choice to judge you based on someone elses' actions? It freakin sucks.
I chose to blame myself for a really long time. I still do. Even 2 days ago I was thinking about it and thought "maybe if I hadn't been drinking this never would have happened..." "maybe if I had stopped being friends with ---- this never would have happened". The thoughts go on. If I hadn't gone upstairs, if I had fought harder, if I had just gone home before anything got serious..... Maybe I never should have called the police. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to press charges. Had I overreacted? Maybe I had wanted it to happen and just freaked out at the last second.
Those are all things that have gone running through my brain time and time again. I know in my heart that nothing I could have done would have stopped him, I know that I wasn't overreacting and that I NEVER wanted anything to happen. It just sucks that I have to live the rest of my life being judged for something I had no control over.
I was watching Easy A earlier which is one of my favorite movies ever! I watched it for 3 weeks straight last year when it was on Netflix. Why did I watch it so much? Because while my world was being flip, turned upside down (if you caught the Fresh Prince reference there you get major brownie points!) Easy A remained funny. As stupid as it sounds, that movie was my constant. Emma Stone was still hilarious no matter how many times I watched the movie and I loved the fact that I was able to remove myself from my problems and concern myself with the problems that arose in the movie.
You may be wondering why I'm even talking about this movie. See, the thing is, while I was watching the movie today it brought me back to the worst time I've ever had in my life. I could remember (in great detail) being raped, going to the police, telling my roommate, telling my parents, and being ripped away from everything that made sense and taken back to NY. Looking back I guess nothing made sense at all, but I didn't want to go back to NY all summer. I hated my parents for bringing me home (I felt like I had been pushed into it...when I had talked to my Dad on the phone it sounded like I didn't have a choice). Even though I know now that going home was the best thing for me, all the feelings of doubt I had came rushing back today.
I don't resent anyone for any decisions they made, or pushed me to make...I really don't. Honestly I couldn't have done better at the time! My brain was a pile of mush if I remember correctly. I couldn't function, I was running on little sleep and I thought that if I just denied anything ever happened I would be able to live normally like I always had. My parents and the people who stepped in right away actually probably saved me from myself and I just refused for a while to see it that way. Looking back, getting an hour of sleep a night, refusing to eat, and locking myself in my room most likely were not helpful to me at all. I remember one night I baked banana nut muffins at 3am and couldn't eat them. So instead, I took the plate outside, walked over to the train tracks and threw them at a fence. Cause that was healthy and safe.
I had to meet with the police a lot back then too and that sucked. Remembering it was worse. I was the one being interrogated (at least it felt that way). There were parts of my attack I couldn't remember (I still to this day cannot remember....things come to me in pieces, but I'm pretty sure out of sequence) and the detective kept pushing and pushing for me to remember. So I finally made something up. Do you know what he said to me? "Is that what actually happened or did you make it up so I would stop asking you?" Seriously dude if you're going to work in the Special Victims Unit you need to get your act together. Don't you DARE treat me like I'm the one who did something wrong. Let's not forget I was the victim in all of this. Law and Order SVU lied to me, detectives aren't that nice....they kind of suck. Well at least the one I had to deal with did. I may have called him some rude names after he said that to me....it was kind of a knee jerk reaction. That was how I was protecting myself. Don't pass judgment on me when you don't know what I've been through, and you better not pass judgment when it's your JOB to find out.
I remembered going to the ER. I remembered the Sexual Assault Nurse I had to put up with. I liked her at first until weeks later when I figured out she skipped over a crucial part of my exam so she wouldn't 'traumatize you again'. It's her job to take some more invasive measures than she did to see if there was any forensic evidence she could use against a rapist. She didn't do those. I hadn't really ever needed to go see a girly doctor (I'm only calling her that so I don't have to look up how to spell the correct name haha) and the tools this nurse was supposed to use are things that would have been used in a typical exam there. She told me that it was unnecessary to do that because she wouldn't be able to find anything anyway since I had showered several times before hand. I found out 3 weeks later from my normal doctor that if she had done what she was supposed to she could have found something (the evidence they needed would not have disappeared because of a few showers) and it may have been able to create a case against the guy who attacked me. I was livid. This was 2 days after I found out the charges had been dropped.
I remember being judged by people. I remember being judged by the nurse before my STD screening. I remember being judged by the woman taking my blood for an HIV test. They looked so disgusted, like I was the nastiest thing on the planet. I shouldn't have had to defend myself or explain, but I did anyway. Do you know what it feels like to have everything taken from you, to have everything you've ever known not make sense anymore, to feel violated and alone, to feel desperate for an answer to "why", to feel like scum because people make a choice to judge you based on someone elses' actions? It freakin sucks.
I chose to blame myself for a really long time. I still do. Even 2 days ago I was thinking about it and thought "maybe if I hadn't been drinking this never would have happened..." "maybe if I had stopped being friends with ---- this never would have happened". The thoughts go on. If I hadn't gone upstairs, if I had fought harder, if I had just gone home before anything got serious..... Maybe I never should have called the police. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to press charges. Had I overreacted? Maybe I had wanted it to happen and just freaked out at the last second.
Those are all things that have gone running through my brain time and time again. I know in my heart that nothing I could have done would have stopped him, I know that I wasn't overreacting and that I NEVER wanted anything to happen. It just sucks that I have to live the rest of my life being judged for something I had no control over.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Stupid Things That Send Me Spiraling
There are so many things that I never- used to think about. Now when I see, hear, taste, smell certain things you know what happens? I freak the hell out. And when I say these are stupid things, I am not kidding. Simple everyday things send me into the worst moods ever and I hate it. So this post is dedicated to a list of those things and why they make me so uncomfortable.
Mint Toothpaste- I tried to use mint toothpaste three different times after I was raped. I threw up all three times (no this is not an exaggeration) and was sent into a fit of tears every single time. Do you hear me? EVERY.SINGLE.TIME. Why does it bother me so much? Well my attacker's mouth smelled and tasted like mint toothpaste. Trying to use my normal toothpaste gave me awful flashbacks and made me so so sick. I would get this terrible anxiety and it was the weirdest thing. When my mom came to visit me after Christmas I was still using bubblegum toothpaste. She helped me ease into the cinnamon kind which made my breath smell 10xs better, but to this day I still cannot even look at any type of mint toothpaste.
Dove Soap- Dove Soap used to smell pretty fresh yall! But since the guy who assaulted me smelled kinda like the scent I used to buy, I can't use it anymore. Good thing there are other shower gel scents I like, or else this would have been the worst. Forreal.
Pepperoni Pizza- This one makes me mad. I freakin' LOVE pepperoni pizza! But that is the last thing I ate before I was raped and the smell and taste do the same thing to me that toothpaste does. I will admit, I ate some pepperoni pizza this summer (from the same place I had it from last summer) and did ok. So maybe what this boils down to is that I need to take baby steps, and not rush right back to the things I used to love.
Music- There are certain songs that I just cannot listen to anymore. Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana is the very last song I heard before I was trapped with the scum of the earth. I never liked that song to begin with but now I REALLY hate it. I was in the car with a friend once and it was playing and I asked her to turn it off. She started teasing me about it and said things like "Oh come on this song is not THAT bad!" In my calm, cool, and collected manner I obviously started screaming "turn it off!" like a mad woman. I'm not ashamed. This was months ago, back in September if I remember correctly. I remember telling my mom that story a couple months ago when the song came on the radio and I asked her to turn it off. She told me I couldn't just freak out and yell at people like that. Well, at the time I could. Sorry I'm not sorry. There are some other songs from that summer too that are hard for me to listen to also, but that stupid Nirvana song tops the list.
Compliments- I struggle with this one A LOT. Especially compliments from guys....that's the hardest for me to deal with. When you get hurt by someone like my rapist, someone who told you how beautiful you are while he's hurting you, it's hard to bounce back. I'm getting a little better dealing with all of this, but it's still hard. My friend's neighbor kept telling me at her Halloween party this past year how cute I was. He took his time pointing out everything he liked about my face. I wanted to throw up. Also, he kept touching my face which would have irritated me whether I had been raped a couple months before or not. KEEP YO HANDS OFF MY FACE BRUH. Thankfully when I get compliments now I don't want to necessarily vomit, in some cases I DO get a little uncomfortable though. Like I said, I'm getting better....it's a work in progress.
Those are just a few of the things that send me reeling. There are more, but it's nothing I want to post on the internet or explain...I feel like I'm already being overly generous in what I've been sharing so y'all will survive. I've tried to explain to some people about things that trigger me, but they just don't understand. This isn't one of those things where I'm just deciding to not like these things. Hating all of this stuff is not a conscious decision. It's just something that happens. If I could control the feeling in the pit of my stomach when I see, hear, taste, or smell these things I would. If I could make it so that all of these things didn't bring up the most painful memories I have, I would. All I want is for someone, anyone, to understand that I can't control it....and that having people make comments about my reactions as if I'm being ridiculous and over-dramatic does not help me at all.
Mint Toothpaste- I tried to use mint toothpaste three different times after I was raped. I threw up all three times (no this is not an exaggeration) and was sent into a fit of tears every single time. Do you hear me? EVERY.SINGLE.TIME. Why does it bother me so much? Well my attacker's mouth smelled and tasted like mint toothpaste. Trying to use my normal toothpaste gave me awful flashbacks and made me so so sick. I would get this terrible anxiety and it was the weirdest thing. When my mom came to visit me after Christmas I was still using bubblegum toothpaste. She helped me ease into the cinnamon kind which made my breath smell 10xs better, but to this day I still cannot even look at any type of mint toothpaste.
Dove Soap- Dove Soap used to smell pretty fresh yall! But since the guy who assaulted me smelled kinda like the scent I used to buy, I can't use it anymore. Good thing there are other shower gel scents I like, or else this would have been the worst. Forreal.
Pepperoni Pizza- This one makes me mad. I freakin' LOVE pepperoni pizza! But that is the last thing I ate before I was raped and the smell and taste do the same thing to me that toothpaste does. I will admit, I ate some pepperoni pizza this summer (from the same place I had it from last summer) and did ok. So maybe what this boils down to is that I need to take baby steps, and not rush right back to the things I used to love.
Music- There are certain songs that I just cannot listen to anymore. Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana is the very last song I heard before I was trapped with the scum of the earth. I never liked that song to begin with but now I REALLY hate it. I was in the car with a friend once and it was playing and I asked her to turn it off. She started teasing me about it and said things like "Oh come on this song is not THAT bad!" In my calm, cool, and collected manner I obviously started screaming "turn it off!" like a mad woman. I'm not ashamed. This was months ago, back in September if I remember correctly. I remember telling my mom that story a couple months ago when the song came on the radio and I asked her to turn it off. She told me I couldn't just freak out and yell at people like that. Well, at the time I could. Sorry I'm not sorry. There are some other songs from that summer too that are hard for me to listen to also, but that stupid Nirvana song tops the list.
Compliments- I struggle with this one A LOT. Especially compliments from guys....that's the hardest for me to deal with. When you get hurt by someone like my rapist, someone who told you how beautiful you are while he's hurting you, it's hard to bounce back. I'm getting a little better dealing with all of this, but it's still hard. My friend's neighbor kept telling me at her Halloween party this past year how cute I was. He took his time pointing out everything he liked about my face. I wanted to throw up. Also, he kept touching my face which would have irritated me whether I had been raped a couple months before or not. KEEP YO HANDS OFF MY FACE BRUH. Thankfully when I get compliments now I don't want to necessarily vomit, in some cases I DO get a little uncomfortable though. Like I said, I'm getting better....it's a work in progress.
Those are just a few of the things that send me reeling. There are more, but it's nothing I want to post on the internet or explain...I feel like I'm already being overly generous in what I've been sharing so y'all will survive. I've tried to explain to some people about things that trigger me, but they just don't understand. This isn't one of those things where I'm just deciding to not like these things. Hating all of this stuff is not a conscious decision. It's just something that happens. If I could control the feeling in the pit of my stomach when I see, hear, taste, or smell these things I would. If I could make it so that all of these things didn't bring up the most painful memories I have, I would. All I want is for someone, anyone, to understand that I can't control it....and that having people make comments about my reactions as if I'm being ridiculous and over-dramatic does not help me at all.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Speak
I was looking at a list of songs a teacher friend of mine sent me today that shows different works of literature and pop songs that were supposedly inspired by those works. It's not accurate AT ALL, but one of the novels mentioned on there was Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson. I remember having to read that book my freshman year of high school in the only non-honors english class I took in high school (I'm totally bragging about how smart I am right now, deal with it.) If you haven't read it, I suggest you do. It is an INCREDIBLE book. The movie isn't too shabby either even though it has Kristen Stewart....her lack of emotion and facial expressions actually really work in her favor this time around. They play it on Lifetime all the time!
Anyway, I was thinking a lot about the book and how much I had loved it. Melinda (the main character) had been raped at a party one summer, and started out the school year dealing with the emotional and psychological pain. She wouldn't talk to anyone and never told anyone she had been raped. The year I read Speak I found myself being angry. Why would she keep it a secret? Why didn't she say anything? Why would she let people go on thinking he was a nice guy!? I found myself cheering when she finally told towards the end. I'm starting to realize, though, that you really don't know how you'll react until you're thrown in that situation. I realized I am JUST like Melinda.
I have lived my entire life thinking "bad things don't happen to people like me". I'm a nice person, I'm little miss social butterfly, I treat people with respect, I volunteer (a lot more back in the day than I do now, I'd like to work on that), I have a supportive and loving family and a great group of friends. Bad things don't happen to GOOD GIRLS. I was an idiot if I honestly thought that was true. So naive. With all of the crap I've dealt with in my life (before my rape) and seeing the types of horrible things that have even happened to the people around me, you would think I'd have a different mind set. I always said that if anyone came after me I would fight tooth and nail, they wouldn't get away with it. I would scream, bite, scratch, spit, kick.....fight with everything I've got until I'd defeated my attacker! I would tell everyone what happened to me and inspire people to be strong like I had. That was my wonderful plan. So. STUPID.
My definition of strong back in the day was fighting and not letting things bother me. Then I was raped. I told my family and a handful of people about it and then hid it from everyone else for as long I could. I stayed silent. I fought for a little amount of time while my rapist did whatever he wanted, and then I was so tired I didn't even care. I gave up. That wasn't my idea of being strong! My depression and PTSD? That was weak! I was disgusted with myself. How could I have done everything I swore I would never do in this situation? How did I even allow myself to end up in this situation? Surely I had done something to ask for it, clearly these things didn't happen to girls like me unless I did something to provoke someone. I went through so much self blame for months. I still have moments where I blame myself and feel guilty, and I've come to except the fact that I'll have to deal with those moments of doubt forever. It's easy to self blame when you're losing friends and people are choosing sides. If my friends aren't standing behind me then obviously I did something wrong.
I realize now, though, that I WAS strong. I wasn't being strong by my original definition, this was a different kind of strong. I was merely trying to survive. Showing up to class and therapy in sweatpants and bedhead was not me giving up. If I had given up I wouldn't have shown up to those things at all. I realize now that I wasn't thriving during those days, I was surviving....struggling to keep my head above water. Strong was walking tall even though people I used to call my friends were calling me names and harassing me everywhere I went. Strong was being patient with my family even though sometimes even they said things that hurt me (yes this happened, no they didn't mean it, and for the record I never told them that. and also I know they're reading this....don't go getting all emotional or up in arms or demand instances because it isn't a big deal). Strong was trying to complete my education even though I was at war with myself. Strong was pulling myself together and slapping a fake smile on my face for my students. Strong was staying calm when my tires were slashed and it became apparent there were people out there bent on hurting me. Strong was waiting until I was at home, locked in my bedroom, to cry. STRONG WAS SURVIVING.
Everything I swore wouldn't happen did. All of my naive opinions on the situation were clearly wrong. That's why it's so interesting for me to look back on how I felt in high school and compare it to the reality I live now. I'm really glad that Speak was brought up randomly to me today because it really let me see how much I've changed over time. Anyway....seriously if you haven't read it you really need to, and you should probably watch the movie too. It's pretty legit.
Anyway, I was thinking a lot about the book and how much I had loved it. Melinda (the main character) had been raped at a party one summer, and started out the school year dealing with the emotional and psychological pain. She wouldn't talk to anyone and never told anyone she had been raped. The year I read Speak I found myself being angry. Why would she keep it a secret? Why didn't she say anything? Why would she let people go on thinking he was a nice guy!? I found myself cheering when she finally told towards the end. I'm starting to realize, though, that you really don't know how you'll react until you're thrown in that situation. I realized I am JUST like Melinda.
I have lived my entire life thinking "bad things don't happen to people like me". I'm a nice person, I'm little miss social butterfly, I treat people with respect, I volunteer (a lot more back in the day than I do now, I'd like to work on that), I have a supportive and loving family and a great group of friends. Bad things don't happen to GOOD GIRLS. I was an idiot if I honestly thought that was true. So naive. With all of the crap I've dealt with in my life (before my rape) and seeing the types of horrible things that have even happened to the people around me, you would think I'd have a different mind set. I always said that if anyone came after me I would fight tooth and nail, they wouldn't get away with it. I would scream, bite, scratch, spit, kick.....fight with everything I've got until I'd defeated my attacker! I would tell everyone what happened to me and inspire people to be strong like I had. That was my wonderful plan. So. STUPID.
My definition of strong back in the day was fighting and not letting things bother me. Then I was raped. I told my family and a handful of people about it and then hid it from everyone else for as long I could. I stayed silent. I fought for a little amount of time while my rapist did whatever he wanted, and then I was so tired I didn't even care. I gave up. That wasn't my idea of being strong! My depression and PTSD? That was weak! I was disgusted with myself. How could I have done everything I swore I would never do in this situation? How did I even allow myself to end up in this situation? Surely I had done something to ask for it, clearly these things didn't happen to girls like me unless I did something to provoke someone. I went through so much self blame for months. I still have moments where I blame myself and feel guilty, and I've come to except the fact that I'll have to deal with those moments of doubt forever. It's easy to self blame when you're losing friends and people are choosing sides. If my friends aren't standing behind me then obviously I did something wrong.
I realize now, though, that I WAS strong. I wasn't being strong by my original definition, this was a different kind of strong. I was merely trying to survive. Showing up to class and therapy in sweatpants and bedhead was not me giving up. If I had given up I wouldn't have shown up to those things at all. I realize now that I wasn't thriving during those days, I was surviving....struggling to keep my head above water. Strong was walking tall even though people I used to call my friends were calling me names and harassing me everywhere I went. Strong was being patient with my family even though sometimes even they said things that hurt me (yes this happened, no they didn't mean it, and for the record I never told them that. and also I know they're reading this....don't go getting all emotional or up in arms or demand instances because it isn't a big deal). Strong was trying to complete my education even though I was at war with myself. Strong was pulling myself together and slapping a fake smile on my face for my students. Strong was staying calm when my tires were slashed and it became apparent there were people out there bent on hurting me. Strong was waiting until I was at home, locked in my bedroom, to cry. STRONG WAS SURVIVING.
Everything I swore wouldn't happen did. All of my naive opinions on the situation were clearly wrong. That's why it's so interesting for me to look back on how I felt in high school and compare it to the reality I live now. I'm really glad that Speak was brought up randomly to me today because it really let me see how much I've changed over time. Anyway....seriously if you haven't read it you really need to, and you should probably watch the movie too. It's pretty legit.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
PTSD
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is something I wish would go away forever. It's one of those things you don't hear about a lot (well at least I hadn't really heard of it), but when you do finally hear it you want to know everything about it. When you read stuff about it, you realize it's a mental illness...and that scares people.
As I've already said, I wasn't sure what PTSD was until I was told I had it. Sometime in September I started getting these horrible panic attacks, I would constantly have nightmares, I was depressed, and I didn't want to be around people. I just thought I was becoming bitter. I figured "Welp, this is how it's going to be. I'm going to be a basket case who hates people and ends up with 47 cats as her only companions." I had accepted it to a point and it didn't really bother me.
The first panic attack I ever had really freaked me out. I remember it very well, and I could probably give a very detailed description of what went down. It was over nothing, really. I was sitting in seminar and we were talking about some of our assignments for the semester. Anyone who has ever had to sit through a college class knows this can be stressful. I'd done this so many times, though, that I was surprised at the reaction my body had. My heart started racing, I couldn't breathe and my chest felt like it was in a vice. That was honestly the scariest sensation I have ever experienced. When you get physically injured, you know what to expect. You know you'll have aches and pains, you know you'll probably need to take medication to deal with it....it seems almost obvious. When you're injured mentally and emotionally, though, it's like you don't even realize there's a problem. Was I expecting to have this much of a reaction to everyday stress!? No way! Every time I would have one of these stupid things I would have to grab on to something (usually a table, one time it was Little Whit's hand bless her heart. I think I cut off her circulation) and try to breathe it out. When people would see me have one or would hear I'd have another one they were mainly worried. Sometimes, though, I would hear "next year you're going to have to teach on your own and won't be able to walk away when you need to. You need to pull it together." Do you know how irritating that is to hear? Do you really think I didn't realize I needed to pull it together? Maybe instead of pointing out the obvious and making me feel like I was being ridiculous, you could have supported me a little more. Thinking about that statement and how many people I heard it from still makes me angry and irritated towards those people, even though it hasn't been said in months.
Another issue I had were the nightmares. I still have them on occasion, but I kid you not for 2 months I had them almost every night. Sometimes it would be a replay of my rape, and I would wake up and just be really uncomfortable and sad. Most of the time it was this weird nightmare where my rapist would appear everywhere. He was the cashier at Walmart, the clerk at the hotel, the security guard at the mall, a professor at my school. There was another one where I was walking through the mall with this 5 year old boy asking him what he wanted to be when he grew up. As we discussed his dreams and goals for the future, he started slowly aging until suddenly he was the guy who raped me. Those two nightmares were ones that would send me thrashing in bed. I would wake up to hear screaming and realize it was my own. I think the reason that those two bothered me more than the flashback, is that the flashback was one small moment in time. The other two nightmares reminded me that he's still around, and that I'll always have to live with what happened to me. It reminded me that he could still find me at that time if he really wanted to, and I didn't like that fact that he consumed my thoughts.
I cried a lot in those first months. I usually did it by myself, hiding in my room so that people couldn't see or hear me. One day during the week I was having such a hard time that I broke down in my car in front of a friend. We ended up being late for internship because I just couldn't reign myself back in, and I think that's when I (along with several other people) realized I wasn't as OK as I was pretending to be. I was really good for awhile for putting on a show. My motto was "Fake it till ya make it" and I was awesome at it. I could smile and make it look real, I could make myself laugh and talk and be pleasant. When I didn't absolutely have to be around people, though, I would lock myself in my apartment and ignore everyone. If my roommates were home, I was in my room sleeping literally all day. If they were gone I would lay on the couch and zone out. I had issues with people touching or hugging me without warning me first. I would flinch and I'd get weird looks. I didn't feel like explaining, so I would just walk away and hide. And as much as I kept to myself and ignored everyone, I desperately wanted people to come look for me and ask if I was OK. I wanted people to call and check in on me. No one ever did, but who can blame them? I was being anti social and they were doing what I actually asked which was to leave me alone. I didn't know how to verbalize that I wanted help.
Another thing that I experienced with my PTSD was the constant need for affection of some sort. I always wanted a hug, I always wanted to hear "I love you", I always wanted to be checked up on, I wanted to be reassured that people still loved me and wanted me around. I have NEVER been like that in my life, and it was so frustrating to suddenly need all of these things. I had severe anxiety about people deserting me, especially after losing so many friends, so I knew why I was feeling this way. It sucked because I felt like a little kid. I felt like I was constantly looking for attention which wasn't really my intention. No one ever complained or mentioned anything about it, if they even noticed, which I am extremely thankful for....but now that I think back on it I was a freakin WHINER. Someone should have punched me yall!
PTSD is something that's very real. A lot of people have different experiences with it. It's something I still struggle with from time to time, but it has definitely gotten better. The important thing to remember is that people who deal with PTSD really cannot control what they go through. Be patient, be understanding and most importantly don't judge. I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by people who mostly understood the things I needed to hear and feel, and I believe that truly made a difference.
As I've already said, I wasn't sure what PTSD was until I was told I had it. Sometime in September I started getting these horrible panic attacks, I would constantly have nightmares, I was depressed, and I didn't want to be around people. I just thought I was becoming bitter. I figured "Welp, this is how it's going to be. I'm going to be a basket case who hates people and ends up with 47 cats as her only companions." I had accepted it to a point and it didn't really bother me.
The first panic attack I ever had really freaked me out. I remember it very well, and I could probably give a very detailed description of what went down. It was over nothing, really. I was sitting in seminar and we were talking about some of our assignments for the semester. Anyone who has ever had to sit through a college class knows this can be stressful. I'd done this so many times, though, that I was surprised at the reaction my body had. My heart started racing, I couldn't breathe and my chest felt like it was in a vice. That was honestly the scariest sensation I have ever experienced. When you get physically injured, you know what to expect. You know you'll have aches and pains, you know you'll probably need to take medication to deal with it....it seems almost obvious. When you're injured mentally and emotionally, though, it's like you don't even realize there's a problem. Was I expecting to have this much of a reaction to everyday stress!? No way! Every time I would have one of these stupid things I would have to grab on to something (usually a table, one time it was Little Whit's hand bless her heart. I think I cut off her circulation) and try to breathe it out. When people would see me have one or would hear I'd have another one they were mainly worried. Sometimes, though, I would hear "next year you're going to have to teach on your own and won't be able to walk away when you need to. You need to pull it together." Do you know how irritating that is to hear? Do you really think I didn't realize I needed to pull it together? Maybe instead of pointing out the obvious and making me feel like I was being ridiculous, you could have supported me a little more. Thinking about that statement and how many people I heard it from still makes me angry and irritated towards those people, even though it hasn't been said in months.
Another issue I had were the nightmares. I still have them on occasion, but I kid you not for 2 months I had them almost every night. Sometimes it would be a replay of my rape, and I would wake up and just be really uncomfortable and sad. Most of the time it was this weird nightmare where my rapist would appear everywhere. He was the cashier at Walmart, the clerk at the hotel, the security guard at the mall, a professor at my school. There was another one where I was walking through the mall with this 5 year old boy asking him what he wanted to be when he grew up. As we discussed his dreams and goals for the future, he started slowly aging until suddenly he was the guy who raped me. Those two nightmares were ones that would send me thrashing in bed. I would wake up to hear screaming and realize it was my own. I think the reason that those two bothered me more than the flashback, is that the flashback was one small moment in time. The other two nightmares reminded me that he's still around, and that I'll always have to live with what happened to me. It reminded me that he could still find me at that time if he really wanted to, and I didn't like that fact that he consumed my thoughts.
I cried a lot in those first months. I usually did it by myself, hiding in my room so that people couldn't see or hear me. One day during the week I was having such a hard time that I broke down in my car in front of a friend. We ended up being late for internship because I just couldn't reign myself back in, and I think that's when I (along with several other people) realized I wasn't as OK as I was pretending to be. I was really good for awhile for putting on a show. My motto was "Fake it till ya make it" and I was awesome at it. I could smile and make it look real, I could make myself laugh and talk and be pleasant. When I didn't absolutely have to be around people, though, I would lock myself in my apartment and ignore everyone. If my roommates were home, I was in my room sleeping literally all day. If they were gone I would lay on the couch and zone out. I had issues with people touching or hugging me without warning me first. I would flinch and I'd get weird looks. I didn't feel like explaining, so I would just walk away and hide. And as much as I kept to myself and ignored everyone, I desperately wanted people to come look for me and ask if I was OK. I wanted people to call and check in on me. No one ever did, but who can blame them? I was being anti social and they were doing what I actually asked which was to leave me alone. I didn't know how to verbalize that I wanted help.
Another thing that I experienced with my PTSD was the constant need for affection of some sort. I always wanted a hug, I always wanted to hear "I love you", I always wanted to be checked up on, I wanted to be reassured that people still loved me and wanted me around. I have NEVER been like that in my life, and it was so frustrating to suddenly need all of these things. I had severe anxiety about people deserting me, especially after losing so many friends, so I knew why I was feeling this way. It sucked because I felt like a little kid. I felt like I was constantly looking for attention which wasn't really my intention. No one ever complained or mentioned anything about it, if they even noticed, which I am extremely thankful for....but now that I think back on it I was a freakin WHINER. Someone should have punched me yall!
PTSD is something that's very real. A lot of people have different experiences with it. It's something I still struggle with from time to time, but it has definitely gotten better. The important thing to remember is that people who deal with PTSD really cannot control what they go through. Be patient, be understanding and most importantly don't judge. I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by people who mostly understood the things I needed to hear and feel, and I believe that truly made a difference.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)