Random Thoughts

It's 0230 and I'm home, but not able to sleep. This, combined with odd life circumstances and a naturally analytical mind, leave me with strange thoughts on a regular basis.

• The extent of which the domestic violence I survived is beginning to hit me from a more logical frame of reference instead of solely from the emotional garbage it laid on me.
• The mice that have taken up residence under my kitchen sink are fixin' to meet the Good L-rd if they don't take the bait in the live traps I set out so that I can transport them to another location still breathing...
• The screen name BedpanAlley doesn't really suit me anymore, seeing as I no longer deal with bedpans... so I need a new name.
• I want to change the way NICU and L&D cares work in the United States, but that's an awful big dream for one tiny little gal. Especially if said gal hopes to someday get married and potentially have children (though that seems improbable and dangerous).
• I need to find a church, but that leads me to try to find a church with a single's group. However, my motives for finding a single's group is less honorable than they should be, because I want a fella. Several problems with this: 1) church should be to learn about G-d, not to find some boy 2) I just tried to "talk" with a boy in hopes of eventually dating and learned I am so far from being ready to date that it's not even funny 3) I still have to wrestle with some shit before dating is even on my radar.
• I need friends to hang out with. While Dog is digging the amount of time I spend at home, she is less thrilled with the fact that I sleep about 18 hours a day. Before you say anything, yes, I know this is unhealthy and I'm working on changing it. She and I went for a "run" today and I made it out of the house before noon!
• My last shift of orientation is tonight. Just let that sink in.
• I wonder how my folks are really doing. I've called them nearly 4 times each this week, but they always make it sound as if they are fine.
• I miss Brother, but he won't talk to me.
• My week is fixin' to become overloaded with extra days they will ask me to work. Knowing me, and how much I would love the overtime pay, I will likely work a bunch of the extra shifts. I'm saving for a car, massage, mani/pedi, trip to a fancy resort in Home State with mom, general savings account, and student loan repayment
• I have mice living in my house. They didn't ask permission and they sure as hell aren't paying rent! Maybe I should get a cat? But Dog tries to eat cats because they look and move like squirrels... Plus I'm allergic to cats and they pee everywhere. *sigh*
• ... Oh, and I think my washing machine broke.

Painful Memories

Tomorrow marks the anniversary of ex-boyfriend's first assault on me. A year ago, I was excited on this night. It was a Friday, I believe and I was probably at his new house watching a movie with him. Actually, he went to bed early so we were probably back in his bed, falling asleep or already sleeping by now.

He didn't try to touch me this night. I was still blissfully ignorant of the danger lurking within him.

The most he probably did was try to grab my butt or my boobs while he made out with me. I was uncomfortable sleeping in his bed, but he wouldn't let me sleep out on the couch. I was also dumb enough to believe that sleeping over would be okay. I was naive enough to believe that I was safe with him.



I've been wrestling with terrible thoughts in my head. For as long as I can remember, I was told to love those who hurt you and hate nobody but Satan.

I've been struggling to wrap my head around the evil that was done to my body and the fact that these guys think that they did nothing wrong.

I have been struggling to keep my mind from saying that "I hate them."

I hate what they've done to me. I hate that they have no fucking clue that my life is ruined. I hate that if the news ever got out that they did these things to me, nobody will believe me and they will blame me for making up stories. I hate that the law is on their side in this backwards legal system. I hate that they will likely have no punishment because what could potentially happen in the best case scenario for me or worst case scenario for them? NOTHING! Absolutely, fucking nothing.

Justice is bullshit. The legal system is not working for victims, it helps nobody but those who have broken the law. So, what's the point in reporting? There is none.


I'm so fucking over this shit. I can't sleep. My mind is being bombarded with the evil acts these assholes have done to me. The only comfort I have is absolutely nothing. There is no comfort. There is no justice. There is nothing I, or anyone, can do to right these wrongs.

L-rd, give me peace and comfort in the coming months as all of my anniversaries come to bombard me and swallow me whole. Quiet my heart and give me restful sleep. Allow me to somehow forget these evil guys. Somehow, in the coming judgement, bring me justice, oh L-rd. Give me something to tell me that the suffering I have unfortunately survived this last year is not in vain. Oh L-rd, redeem me and punish those who have wronged me and invaded my body. Ad-nai, forgive my past trangressions and remember what has happened. L-rd, remember those who love you and deliver me from the evil bestowed upon me.

Why was this given to me? What did I do that warranted that type of punishment? Or, what kind of sick test was that?!? WHY???



Ironically, tomorrow's pediatric lecture is on childhood abuse and will most likely mention sexual assault because that seems to be a popular topic in that stupid class. As such, I am not going. I refuse to go. The peds instructor makes sick jokes about rape, suicide, abuse, and other "hot button" topics that immediately make me cry. How will I handle such topics from now on? I will just refuse to go to class! Fuck you, lady. L-rd willing, you've never lived through these terrible things. As someone who survived multiple suicide attempts, is living through grieving a friend's suicide, having been abused by boyfriends, and raped by two separate guys on numerous occasions, YOU HAVE NO PLACE TO TALK!!!

No decent person makes jokes about abuse, rape, or suicide. Don't fuck with those topics. If you have to talk about them, and I think it's important to discuss them, then you treat them with the respect and seriousness they deserve. Get people who are experts and who are tender to the issues to come and teach the lecture, if that is required.

Don't fucking mess with me and don't tell me you know when you don't lady (peds professor and Jersey.)

Some of you, out there in the blog-o-sphere, unfortunately understand the pain of living through traumatic events. Though we have not lived the same life, I am sorry for your suffering. We can't fully comprehend each others pain and journey, but I know what it is like to live my trauma and I am sorry for anyone who has to live through their own. For anything you've been through, I am, from the bottom of my heart, sorry.

For those of you who haven't, I am so very glad that you haven't. I do not wish this on anyone. Having said that, please do not tell those of us who are survivors of trauma that you know what we are going through. If you say anything, tell us that you are sorry and then slap that pity look right off your face. We don't need pity. We are still a person, just like anyone else. Unfortunately, we were dealt a hand in life where we were forced to be a bit stronger than the average person. That does not mean we need pity. Giving us that fucking pity look and babying us after we tell you only makes the situation worse. Don't distance yourself from us or treat us differently besides avoiding the triggers we ask you to avoid. Besides that, treat us normally, but silently give us more patience as we heal.

Rebound

As you guys know, exfiance and I still talk. Since that's kind of a long name, let's call him Jacob (no, that's not his actual name). Yesterday, he went to counseling because we had a bet, he lost it, and his forfeit was to go to counseling. I believe he needed to go when he was a child but he just never did. He had trauma growing up, similar to what happened to me but also vastly different. Regardless, trauma needs counseling most of the time and he certainly does.

I guess he and his counselor talked about me and why the two of us broke up. Jacob ended up calling me last night and telling me that he believes I was never really "in love" with him because he was just a rebound and distraction from my first rape. It has occurred to me that he may have been a rebound, but I had feelings for him. However, when he continually lied to me, that's when the love dwindled away because I had been loving him for the lies, not for him actually showing me his past scars. I think he may have started as a rebound, but I developed true love for him. Having him tell me he didn't think I ever loved him hurt. It hurt a lot.

While we were going out, there were times that he would compare me to his dead wife. He would say she was pretty, but I think you're prettier. Or he would tell me what she did to calm him down or what she did that he liked. Little things they developed like a counting game with squeezing each other's hands just to let the other one know they were there and thinking about them regardless of whether they were driving, fighting, whatever. At one point, he told me he loved me probably more than his wife. I didn't think much of it and I highly doubted it, but it stuck in my mind. Last night, he told me he didn't love me nearly as much as he had loved his wife. He covered it up by saying they grew up together, knew each other for way longer, and went through much more together than he and I had. Okay, this makes sense, I guess but it hurt to hear it. I mean, who says that? I would suspect he would love her more, but you don't say that to someone! Especially someone who is barely surviving and doesn't feel loved by anyone right now, especially friends or guys.

We keep talking and venting about our counseling sessions. I don't know why, but we do. In fact, we're having deeper conversations than we did when we were dating. It's really frustrating, actually. Anywho, he asked how I have been doing. I told him the following story:

Yesterday, I started my OB class and I have been excited about this class since I started college! I absolutely love watching births and seeing pregnant women and babies and everything that has to do with moms and babies. We started watching a birth in class (a video) and my eyes started tearing up. These weren't happy tears at a baby being born, these were tears of pain because the woman had her feet in stirrups and it reminded me of my SANE exam.

The next birth video was in a birthing center and my eyes teared up again and they almost spilled over. The video ended and I watched the wall for most of it because I was on the verge of sobbing. I couldn't catch my breath, I was hyperventilating, my heart was pounding, I was sad that I don't believe I will ever have babies, and I'm disappointed I was having so many troubles in a class that I have so been looking forward to forever! I want to be a midwife for goodness sake!!!

Whew, so that video ended and I kinda kept my composure. Lecture continued and we watched a third video towards the end. This was a water birth at home. About a minute into the video, my eye were filled with tears, I was having all the symptoms that I had in the second video and the tears started spilling. I jumped from my seat (which was in the back right next to the door, thank the L-rd) and I nearly ran to the bathroom. I got in there and there were other people. I washed my hands to make it seem like I was okay, but I absolutely wasn't. Then, all of a sudden, Beauty comes walking out of a stall. I dried my hands, looked up and said "hey! it's you!" The concern on her face was evident, she asked if I was okay. I said I was fine, booked it out of that bathroom and speed walked to the bathroom in the back of the building. Oh my goodness, I lost it! I was in a stall, sitting on the toilet, trying to keep my sobs as silent as possible and cried for about 5 minutes. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't stop shaking, I was losing my mind and it was terrifying! I waited for the other girls to leave, emmerged from my sanctuary and washed my hands, splashed cold water on my face a few times, and composed myself enough to go back to class. I zoned out for the rest of class just so that my body could sit there to keep my friends from wondering if I was okay.



On the phone with Jacob (exfiance) later that night, I explained all of this to him. He was kinda sweet about it and the most important thing is he listens to my rambling about my lack of coping with life right now. He asked me a few questions and we got to a point where I was explaining that I haven't been sleeping more than a couple hours each night because I can't fall asleep and I keep having flashbacks about him, exboyfriend and Country Boy. We discussed Country Boy's suicide and Jacob told me that I shouldn't be sad about him committing suicide. He said that me being sad and crying about it is selfish. I know it's selfish, but at the same time I need to be able to cope with what happened because it affected me terribly. You don't tell people not to cry or be sad if something happened in their life or they had a friend/family member die! You just don't do that!!! I ended up getting really mad, but Jacob just kept talking and I kept crying.

He ended by reverting to saying that I never loved him. He said he's not mad because he knows I have been in "survival mode" (according to my counselor because of the severe PTSD). He says he's proud of me for getting good grades and continuing with school even though my brain isn't functioning properly and barely surviving right now. He told me he thinks I'm a "badass bitch" because I keep on going even though most people would be staying in bed all the time and they would have given up a long time ago. He's proud of me for not killing myself and for not cutting in a few weeks. He says he's proud of me for getting help and for dealing with all of the troubles in my life without telling people about them.

I think that's one of the hardest things to do. If you have a broken leg or some reason to get surgery, people understand you taking time to recover and build yourself back up. They usually respect your privacy and the fact you need space. They are also more likely to want to help you with food, cleaning, groceries, etc because they know you may need help. The thing with rape is, you can't tell everyone. Well, you could, but it's likely to cause you more problems than it is to help you at all. I have chosen to tell a couple friends for support, but the vast majority of the people in my life (most of my friends, bosses, professors/instructors, patients, extended family, and even my dad) have no idea what's wrong with me. They see that I'm changing, withdrawing, sad, grumpy, and all around not being myself, but they don't know why. So, they tell me to suck it up and then get angry when they are not top priority on my list. But what am I supposed to do? I was burned out with all of the needy people in my life before any of this bad stuff happened. What am I supposed to do now that it is all I can do to wake up in the morning and consider getting out of bed?

We went on to talk about one of Jacob's friends from back in the day passing away this week. He tarted talking about a bunch of other friends that had died through his life, including his "father figure" who he really looked up to. Turns out, the father figure guy had a nephew that had committed suicide about the same time Country Boy did. They both also had the same name. We realized this all for the first time last night. Jacob had helped his father figure get the kid down from his noose once he was found. So Jacob asked for a picture of Country Boy to see if it was the same kid. He was freaking out last night saying it was so creepy and weirding him out that my friend that died might have been the same guy that he helped get down after the other kid's suicide. After I sent him the picture today, he said they weren't the same kid. It's a little bit of a relief.

Jacob also found out that Country Boy ended up being buried. About a month after he had died, I went to the place where his funeral was held (after clinical that day and I was in my whites), but they told me he had been cremated. Well, turns out Jacob called the funeral home and he was told Country Boy had been buried there. Okay, looks like I'm going there to see his grave tomorrow.

Jacob and I closed the conversation with him saying he'd pray that I would be able to sleep at a decent time last night. He called back like 2 minutes later saying: "Hey, I know this is going to sound weird, these aren't my words and I don't know what I'm saying, but do you remember the guy that you told me about? You know, the one that Satan made a bet with G-d that the guy wouldn't stay good, so G-d allowed him to be tested by Satan just to see if he would stay good?"

Me: "Job?"

Him: "Yeah! Well, while I was praying, I got this feeling that you are that guy. You are being tested. Now, this is going to sound really weird and I don't understand the words, but you are supposed to stand fast with your religion. Don't give up and keep doing what you're doing"

Me: "Okay, I'll try to keep my faith."

That was it. He doesn't talk like that ever. He's been reading a devotional book he got from me based off of the Love Dare book, but it's the year-long one. It still has challenges each week, but it also has a lesson and verse for each day. I'm surprised he's still doing it. I'm even more surprised he's gone to counseling and says he's going to keep going. We'll see. I don't foresee us getting back together, ever. I feel like the L-rd told me that he will change, but I won't see the fruits of this (my) labor but the story ends well for him. I hope it ends well for me too, but I guess we'll see.


Well, y'all keep on keepin' on. Stick with the faith and know that the L-rd is working, even if you feel like your whole life is going up in smoke. G-d is working on a billion things for every one thing He lets you have a glimpse of. I believe that's true for me too. Blessings guys.

P.S.
His prayer, along with mine, actually worked. Maybe it was psychological, but I think the L-rd helped me a lot. I fell asleep within about 10 minutes of hanging up from the second phone call.

Worst Part About Break-ups

Seeing as this is the second official break-up I've had from a guy, kinda my third (if you count the kid I "dated" for three weeks by avoiding him the entire time). However, the worst parts about a break-up for me are 1) missing the guy's family, 2) having so much left unsaid and so many questions unanswered, 3) missing the guy's company, and 4) being angry about what they did/didn't do. Now, they are all fairly equal in my brain, but I go through cycles where each one seems more prominent at any given time.

1) I miss their families terribly. Trial-run's mom loved me. Country Boy's mom (even though we didn't date) loved me. Exboyfriend's whole entire immediate and extended family loved me. Exfiance's mom absolutely adored me and even took me shopping. Unfortunately for me, I loved all of these people too! Breaking up with the guy automatically breaks me off from being loved by their families, but I almost miss their families more than I miss the guy because I felt so wanted and accepted into another person's life. Their families thought I was good for the guys and their families typically hadn't liked other girls they had brought home and so they were somehow surprised that they liked me when I was brought around. I miss that and the relationships I had developed with the family members. I loved that when the guy and I were fake arguing in front of them, the family members usually took my side. Haha, they were all jokes, but some of the fake arguments had roots in discussions where I had supported my side and the guy didn't understand until his family took my side.

2) This is the worst. Since Country Boy died, I obviously have so much left unsaid to him.

When I broke up with Exboyfriend, I only told him that what he did was not okay. I wish I could have told him that what he did was rape and that he absolutely needs to not do that to anyone else. I wish I could let him know how badly I'm messed up because of that, but I don't want to mess him up or make him feel guilty. I'm scared that could lead to another suicide like Country Boy.

With Exfiance, I have been terrible. I have been yelling at him over text and questioning everything. He told me the other day that he was sick and tired of me questioning what he's told me. I apologized for taking my anger out on him and being a bitch. It's not like I was harassing him, but he would text me and that would always end up with me picking a fight because I'm ridiculously angry at him for lying to me and hurting me for so long. I'm mad at myself for believing and defending him.

The other night, when I was up at 0200 the night before my class because I can't sleep lately, I wrote a text and decided not to send it because I didn't want to hurt him more than I have. I don't believe in revenge or hurting people just because they hurt me. However, since I couldn't tell him, I figured I would put it here so that I get it out. So, here it is: "I hate that I no longer get to be around your mom or your family in *other state* because I absolutely loved them. I hate that I have to get over the fact that the future I built in my head with you was all bullshit and will never happen. It makes me angry that I can't stop myself from wanting to talk to you, even though our relationship was based on lies and it wasn't ever really a healthy relationship by an means. I hate that my siled treatment doesn't last more than a few hours or a day with you. I hate that I haven't been able to sleep in days, even though I need to so that I can maybe escapre the constant noise and self-doubt in my head. I'm so angry at you and I hate that you made me cry. But, sometimes I hate that I can't cry because I'm out of tears and my heart moved on a long time ago. I hate that I'm so angry and that as soon as I had started feeling better from him (exboyfriend) and started trusting you, you found me and now I'm even worse than I was before. I hate yelling at you but I feel like I need to tell you these things. I hate having flashbacks of you, and him (exbf), and Country Boy every single stupid day. Several times an hour, in fact. I hate that I feel like there's nothing else for me to live for because I am completely convinced that I will never be happy, or be able to escape what has happened, for the rest of my life."

I know, I sound like such a bitch! That's why I didn't send it. This would have caused so much pain and damage to him. So, I never sent the text and I never will.

3) I miss their company. I miss all of them. Country Boy died way too early and he made me angry, but that was not reason for him to take his life and I still feel like it was at least partially my fault that he killed himself. Trial-run guy was my best friend for most of freshman year and a good chunk of sophomore year, but we don't talk much anymore and I miss his friendship and the way he would laugh at what I thought was funny, even if they were icky nursing stories or stiff he didn't understand. I miss exboyfriend for his calm demeanor and the way he showed me off to his friends and he was so proud to dance with me. I also miss the small-town life I got with him. I miss exfiance for the way we texted and called each other frequently. I would tell all of them about my day and what I was excited or upset about. I miss that sharing and having someone to talk to. I miss looking forward to hanging out with any of them and feeling special when we had a date planned. If only the best of each of them could be synthesized into one guy, I think we could work. That's unrealistic though.

4) Despite the good, I'm still angry with each of them. I'm angry with them for expecting sex from me. I hate that it was so easy for them to push me aside when they didn't "feel" like being with me or they found something more fun to do on a day we had plans. I'm angry at Country Boy for killing himself. I'm angry at my actual two boyfriends for abusing and assaulting me. I hate that they all made me love them for different reasons and then pushed me away slowly but surely and then they blame me for the break up.



I hate that I miss them. I strongly dislike that this is my history and the life I have to deal with. I hate that regardless of what happens in this life, I know that someone else has it worse. That makes me feel shallow, insignificant, and weak. I despise feeling that I'm not good enough. It breaks my heart daily that I still love all of them, even though I have been terribly hurt. I don't understand why I remain alive and keep waking up each morning. Why are break-ups so incredibly difficult? Why is this the path I walk? I'm terrified that I am the one to blame for all of my problems.

Still, I know the L-rd provides and cares for me.

This is the biggest mystery to me of all.