Legit Panic Attack

I was taking a shower today, after running around my house getting everything in it's place, when I started being bombarded with memories. Bad memories.

I started asking G-d, "Why me? What did I do? How is this my lot in life? Why do I have to deal with this? Why did you not just let me die?" etc., etc.

About two questions in, I could feel my heart pounding, breath getting shallow and quick, eyes went into tunnel vision. I felt like I was going to pass out, but I couldn't calm the anger and the hurt. The next 30 minutes consisted of me yelling, praying, sobbing, shaking, hyperventilating, and shaving my legs... all at the same time. How do I manage to be such a great multi-tasker? I have no idea.

I keep thinking about what I want to say, in case my reports ever go to trial. I want to say so much, but I know I will freeze on the stand and my brain will freeze if I begin to draft my victim impact statements now but boy, can I scream everything I need to say when I'm in the shower!

Exboyfriend's town called a couple days ago telling me they had gotten a report from College Town that I had been sexually assaulted (raped) in their town. College town had no jurisdiction in Exboyfriend's town and so it had to be transferred.

I've been dealing with that for a week. At first I was nervous about how this would effect him, then I remembered how much his actions have effected me and my whole life. He forever changed the course of my life with his poor choices that weekend. Oh, I wish I would have kicked him, fought him, and called the cops right then. Unfortunately, I was completely in shock. I was paralyzed and in a daze that whole weekend.

Because of Exboyfriend, I met Exfiance. He didn't introduce me, but I was going out a lot, looking for a good time to get away from the terrors living and replaying themselves in my head constantly.

It's crazy to think that one person can make you hate yourself. They can make you hate your body, your memory, your life, and hate the fact that you wake up each morning to fight another losing battle of a day. They can make you hate yourself enough that you stop feeding your body, you start taking pills, smoking, cutting, or otherwise abusing the very vessel that holds the essence of who you are. One person's choices can make you fight to not pick up the bottle, not down the pills, not pull the trigger, and not crash into a ditch.

So now, I am here. A shell of who I used to be. I can never me back. I can never have the same ability to see the best in people. I can never have the same easy smile and no assumptions that people are only out to hurt me. I can never feel pure, whole, and complete. I can never erase the memories. Who knows if I have some disease that I won't be able to get rid of in addition to the rest of it.

It makes me wonder why we, as a collective people, fight so hard to keep people from suicide. Not saying I would do it, but I understand what it is like for me to not want to wake up another day. Why do we insist on saving those who so clearly see no point in being here on this earth? Why do we call the police if someone is talking about suicide at home/work or place patients on a 72-hour hold at hospitals if they come to us saying they want to die? Why do we put people on antidepressants? Which can potentially make the suicidal ideations worse and help give the people enough energy to go through with the suicide. If people are so miserable with the hand they were dealt or produced for themselves, why are we holding them earth side?

This doesn't mean that I don't support getting professional help and trying to reach out to those having a hard time, but why make people live if they have no quality of life and are sick of being here? There is not a day that goes by that I don't wish that I could have helped Country Boy, but if there was a chance for him to have been able to reach out for help, he didn't extend that plea to me. He had a plan and he carried it out. For him, there was no use in living in a world without his dad. He had too much pain to bear on his own and he couldn't figure out how to share it. Meanwhile, I have a lot of pain (in my own opinion) and even with sharing it, I feel I am constantly drowning. Today, with my panic attack, it showed that my head is no longer staying above the water. The stress of reporting, painful memories, moving, not being able to work, having bills that I cannot pay, and stress I can't even describe is overwhelming me.

It's so hard to surrender your anxieties to the L-rd when your life is stripped from your grasp. It's so hard to ask for help when nobody can hear you from the depths of your chasm. I know I have no control over my life, but I feel like I'm in a car with a sleeping, drunk driver and the car is swerving on it's own. However, the ride sucks so badly I hope it crashes soon so that the drive will come to an end, I don't even care about making it to wherever I thought we were headed.

A year of fighting for a 6 month sentence. That's ridiculous!

For those who have followed my story in any capacity, you've probably read about my terrible 2015. I dated two guys, both of which raped and sexually assaulted me.

Since then, I have gone through counseling, been deemed capable of attempting life on my own again, and been sent into the world with warm wishes from my Counselor.

The struggle with reporting is an internal war. If I don't say anything, then the guys get off spot (scott?) free. They likely don't even know that what they did is a felony, or they know and they don't care. Meanwhile, if I report then I deal with the police officer, detective(s), re-victimization, nay-sayers, judges, jury, and living through hell for another indeterminable amount of time. It's not bad enough that I am constantly reminded every day and every night of what has happened, reporting would make me have to talk about it all with complete strangers.

And, as many of you know, I'm not a wordsmith. However, there are people out there who are.

I recently came across an article in my Facebook feed about a girl who was sexually assaulted and digitally raped (I called mine finger rape at first, back in April/May 2015). Honestly, I am so very grateful for her ability to be able to use words and speak/write so well. Please, do me a favor and read this article, if you are so able. There are lots of triggers and, honestly, if anyone wants to know what a SANE exam is like, she nails it. There is no way to compare sexual assault and rape stories, all of us survivors understand that well. The only thing we can do is feel for each other.

This woman is so incredibly strong, so brave, so gifted with words, and she has been served a great injustice by the sentencing her abuser received. I cannot imagine having my story published for everyone to read. I cannot imagine worrying about friends and family watching the news and seeing my traumatic events played for them and the rest of the nation/world. She has handled it with such courage and grace. Then, instead of trying to forget it and hide it, she is speaking out against what has happened to her.

Back in Biblical times, rapists were stoned to death... I'm just saying...

***Probably Don't Want to Read This One***

*****This post is going to be all anger and some really bad language. Just don't read it if you don't want, it's going to be bad.*****









I hate sex. I hate it, I HATE IT, I HATE IT!!!

Yes, it is supposed to be some beautiful thing that brings about closeness in a relationship with your spouse and it results in babies occasionally.

You know what else it does? It ruins lives when forced upon someone.

Now, something that I was so excited to share with my husband and only my husband has been used to completely ruin my life and desecrate my body. It fucked up my brain and has utterly ruined my life.

I will never be okay.

Have I had sex? I don't know because I didn't choose to allow that to be done to my body!!!

Am I a virgin? I have no fucking clue because a penis has been in my vagina, but I DID NOT want it there!!!

I don't even know what I am. I don't know what I can be classified as. I don't know how to proceed to answer these seemingly simple questions because how to you answer when these things have been forced upon you?

Guys don't like the answer of "I don't know" to the question of if I've had sex or if I'm a virgin. Honestly, what the fuck am I supposed to say? How do I be honest and yet keep the pain from my past concealed for awhile longer?

I hate sex.

When i find a nice guy to simply talk to, it seems futile because they want sex because they've gotten it from other girls.

I hate sex.

I hate sex because it left my parents with me. Because of sex and some damn sperm finding my mom's egg, I'm here and they had to get married. Messed up life plans, stuck them together, and fucked it all up.

I hate sex.

I can't watch most movies, read many books, even drive down the street without flashbacks.

I hate sex.

I have nightmares and crying spells, even on my best days, because of some guys fucking penis being shoved into me.

I hate sex.

I HATE SEX!

I HATE SEX!!!

Forgiveness?

I have found, in the past few years, it is easier to forgive others than it is to forgive myself.

I keep waking up with panic attacks because I feel like I have failed my future husband, G-d, and myself. I feel unlovable and ruined. The nightmares and flashbacks are becoming too much for me. I keep playing what has happened in the past year, over and over again in my head. I could have fought harder. I could have prevented so many problems by breaking up with these boys when I had originally wanted to, if only I had had the guts and the strength to do it. I am quite convinced that I have made too many mistakes to be able to have any kind of a future like the one that I wanted so badly.

I wanted a sweet guy, who waited for marriage before having sex. I don't deserve that anymore because I allowed my body to be used by guys other than my husband. I wanted to save my first kiss for my wedding day and I blew that on a guy who was 5 years older than me because I was feeling pressured and didn't stand up for myself the way I needed to. Granted, I have learned a lot, but at a steep price.

I have lost the little sanity I was born with, and I feel as though I've been trampled.

I keep going back and forth between wondering if what happened to me was my fault, or if I did all I needed to and was able to at the time, to protect myself and my purity.

I am downright disgusted with myself and the way I have turned out.

Counseling starts Tuesday but I'm scared that I won't be able to work out all that I need to in the time I have a counselor. Maybe light will be shed and it will show me that all of these things were my fault. Maybe it will prove to me that believing these guys had any control over their actions was futile and I deserve to be locked away.

My nausea is back full force and I've almost lost my stomach a few times today. I can't escape my life, especially in my dreams. I keep breaking down and sobbing because I feel as though I have no hope left in a future, let alone a happy future. Flashbacks are constant and no longer just intermittent. Nightmares are guaranteed every night once I finally fall asleep around 3-4 a.m. from exhaustion. But I was with panic attacks around 9-10 a.m.

My head hurts from the whiplash I give myself by believing everything was my fault and then knowing that I had no control over these guys. They had their talons in deep and made me believe I made them enter my body. That's what they've told me. I was told it was my fault because I didn't say "no" seriously enough. It doesn't matter that I repeatedly said it and tried to push them away.

I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep normally again. If I ever do get married, will sex even be enjoyable? Or will it be a source of too much pain that I push my husband away and avoid it all together?

Should I even hope that I find a husband? If I were a guy, I wouldn't want me. Especially if I were the guy that I wanted before I was ruined and I found a girl like how I am presently.

I am unworthy, broken, dirty, impure, unlovable, and completely damaged goods. Maybe this is the Adversary saying mean things to me, but it's believable.

Some days, I want to know what a jury would say. Would they say that I am making stories up so that I can hopefully clear my concience? Or would they understand that I am telling the truth and see that I never wanted any of this? Would they see the hours of being yelled at over the phone for not being willing to "try" sex because I was waiting for marriage, only to be fed drinks all night until I was unable to walk and puking? Would they say it was my fault because I wasn't smarter that night and I kept drinking? Would they believe him when he says I started it? Would they believe me that I had told him a million times I never wanted to, but then woke up next to him, completely naked, next to him in a hotel? Would they believe it was my fault? Is it my fault?

The dozens of times he came onto me after that and I said flat out "no" several times, but he still "went in", do those count in my favor or his? Were those my fault too? Does pushing him away but not being strong enough to actually be able to get him off of me count for him or me? Why does he believe all of these are my fault because he was "thinking with his penis"? Are they my fault?

Why was I allowed to be able to meet him? Why would the L-rd allow this to happen again? More than that, I don't believe it was G-d's fault, I believe I made so many foolish choices that this is all on me. I believe He cares for me and tries to protect me, but where was He all those nights? Was He watching when I tried my best to keep my pants on as these guys ripped them off? Or did He turn His head? I believe I was set apart for Him, but if I was, why was I not protected? Am I that bad that I was banished to be able to be used by any guy that just had a hankering to get his rocks off? Why is this supposed to be my fate? Why was I not allowed to die when I wanted to in the 8th grade? If I had been allowed to, I wouldn't have had to live through this. What did I do that this is justifiable punishment for my sins?

WHY ME??? What did I do?

Worst Friend Ever

Folks, I'm talking about me. In the last week, I have made a friend cry and ruined another friendship. I don't know why I suck at life, but I do. I'm terrible with people! What was I thinking making friends and talking? Dumbest decision I've had in a long time, and maybe ever in my life. Man alive! What is wrong with me? I never used to make people cry, never. And friends have been mad at me before, but this one hurts more than it did before. So far they are both still talking to me, but I still failed them.

I have a confession, I wanted to learn how to speak my mind so that people don't keep walking all over me, but if this is what results, I don't want any part of it! It's not even like I have a thick skin either, but I didn't think I was mean. Now, I'm thinking I am so very mean and I'm seriously considering why people even befriend me in the first place.

Then, I start thinking about why I befriend others. I make friends because I know what it is to be uncomfortable on the sidelines watching everyone else socialize and have fun. So, I rope other people in a help them to make connections until they don't need me anymore. Then, the connections that we had slowly fade into nothing more than a smile in the halls. Fortunately for me, I am now comfortable on the sidelines with no one else to sit with or talk to, but if there is someone, I will interact with them.

Subsequently, I started thinking about my friends. I do have friends, and they are often very kind to hang out with me because I am crazy. Y'all know, you read my thoughts in this blog. Anyway, I have never really felt connected to anyone. Even when I have a bunch of friends, and loads of stuff to do with them, I always feel lonely. So, what's wrong with me? We weren't made to be of the world, we are merely in it to fulfill G-d's plans, but I feel all alone when surrounded by seas of people. Even when I let someone know my secrets and my deeper, crazier thoughts, I never really feel connected or close to anyone. Now, the bonds I used to have with my parents and brother are even dwindling. Is it just part of growing up? If it is, then why have I always been so lonely, all my life. I know G-d is always with me, but I've been screwing up with Him and I haven't been working on that relationship and everything is falling apart!!!

So, my conclusion is: I suck at life.