Hauntingly Familiar

As you might well know, from my many posts, I have moved back to the city I lived in during college (a.k.a. College Town, as named for my blog).

This also just so happens to be the city in which I lived through the worst year of my life, 2015.

2015 was a terrible year, filled with 2 relationships that were exceedingly toxic and abusive. I was sexually assaulted/raped, mentally imprisoned, physically abused, and otherwise harmed in most ways possible. Through these occurrences, I developed terrible depression, complex PTSD (which was made worse by my friend's suicide the year prior), and I participated in smoking and self-harm as ways of attempting to cope.



Often, in my experiences as a nurse, and general experiences as a human, I have been slapped in the face with comments, made by unknowing people.

Usually these include jokes about suicide or self-harm. Other times they are people lying about sexual assault and rape in order to remain out of trouble or to get attention. And still, there are instances that fall in and out of that range.



Recently, my ability to cope was tested as someone mentioned to me that "they don't believe most rape victims have actually been raped. Most of the time these girls didn't say 'no' strongly enough or contributed to the drinking and merely had sex that they regretted in the morning."

*deep breath*

For those of you who don't know my full story, just know that these are two very triggering statements for me 1) that the 'no' was not forceful enough and 2) that because the girl was drunk, it is automatically her fault because she was drinking.

Let me preface this by saying that sometimes people lie. Maybe someone is lying about having sex and regretting it in the morning and they feel that claiming it as "rape" is going to lessen their guilt or somehow get them sympathy. Let me also say that I have a tendency to believe people if they claim they have been assaulted, because if it's false then it'll eat away at them as they meet true victims. If it doesn't, then hey, not my problem. I would rather believe people and treat them with extra gentleness, than to assume that everyone is lying.



With that being said, the details of my story often keep me up at night. I have worked for years at grounding techniques and trying to remember all of the events that I unfortunately survived over the course of living through the hell I experienced in 2015.



My attackers were boyfriends. With 1, I question whether my "no" was strong enough, because I froze. I told him "no" about 50 times, maybe more. However, my body was frozen apart from moving his hands away and trying to keep myself safe. There are about 15-20 minutes that I cannot account for because my brain shut off and I had a sort of "flashback" but I didn't go into the past, I just went somewhere else in my brain. I remember my thoughts through that unaccounted time, but I cannot remember reality.

I struggle with knowing I could have done something, but I couldn't, all at the same time. Especially after taking self-defense, I know that my desires to kick him in the face and run, were absolutely acceptable and encouraged behaviors because of what he was doing. But I didn't do it, because I couldn't grasp the gravity of the situation in that particular moment.

My second boyfriend (of about 2.5 months at the time) knowingly got me drunk and likely drugged me. We had been planning to go out dancing and drinking. Like a fool, I told him my limit was 3 drinks, and asked him to hold my drink when I went out to dance. It was a night where we were given 2 free shots of various whiskey to encourage people to buy these brands. This, along with him getting me refill after refill (without my knowledge) and then encouraging me to chug, ended up causing me to drink too much. He knew I trusted him, and he knew I wasn't able to keep track of him being gone when I was dancing with my friends. He had been charming and fun for the few months we were together, until that night. The next memory I have was waking up next to him, naked, in a hotel room. I didn't know where I was, what had happened, or how to get home.

This is a struggle for me because I was counting my own drinks. I know to not drink too much. I know when to cut myself off. I trusted him. He claimed he wanted to help me after having been hurt by my first boyfriend. He claimed to have "over-the-moon" feelings for me. He claimed to want to marry me... after only a couple months of dating. We had had our fights, but he typically ended up working out a decent deal to "compromise" with me. After that night, he fought with me on religion, virginity, giving my body to him (he even claimed scripture for this, even though he is not a believer), and he fought me on everything.



With the two comments made about rape/sexual assault victims in relation to lying, saying "no", and drinking, I am at a war. I war within myself nearly every day whether I was truly abused the way I have had to convince myself I was, or if I'm making these things up and merely regret having sex with guys I hadn't even planned to kiss. Which, is a form of assault in it's own right, technically. But those are stories for another day.





And so, I lost hours of precious sleep, that I already don't get enough of, battling in my own head over words spoken out of unknowing. In the conversation, in which those comments were made, the person I spoke with prefaced the conversation saying they "had not had anyone in their family raped" and that these were just their findings in their limited control group of people who had claimed to have been assaulted/raped (a group of maybe 2 people). So, at least they acknowledged that. But it still stings.

It stings to not even believe my own memory, because of somebody's opinion about something that has never personally effected them or someone they love and know dearly. It stings to have to battle in my own head and lose sleep over such small comments. It stings to not be able to easily discern reality from nightmares, because your life is worse than your worst nightmare.

Grounding is exhausting in these situations and for someone who has been working 6 days a week, between 2 new jobs and learning all of the "new", it is especially difficult to bring myself back to the facts. To prove to myself that the labels of "rape" and "abuse" given by my counselor truly fit the relationships I had. Then, for days, my brain is recounting and dredging up all of the examples it can muster, and even some I had forgotten, in order to prove to me that I am not "crazy" for believing in my traumatic past.

And so the past haunts the present. It lurks in the corner of every new adventure. It tests out every new friendship, and holds it to standards that are unbeknownst to me. All I get are the results of the test: don't trust anyone and keep it to myself.



I don't talk about my past anymore. The more new people I meet, and the more I go on with life, the fewer people I tell. I told nobody in Small Town, and I don't plan on telling anyone here. The only people that will know, already know, and those were even probably not great choices. Thing is, it's not fair to keep it to yourself and it's not healthy. Counselors can't be the only people to ever know things like this, but I can't go around telling every random person I befriend about my traumatic past either.

The "discussions" started, the fights I wage, and the debate about what constitutes rape and abuse are conversations I simply try to avoid. Changing the subject or nodding along and zoning out seem to work the best for me. However, it seems that's all I do anymore...

And so it goes. I bandage those hurt feelings and move on. I don't blame the lips that spill the words. I don't abandon the people who think that way to begin with. All I can do is hope to recover from my many returns to the deep pits, and keep on pushing along.

Maybe one day things will get better.

Trigger Happy

Today was a rough day. Work was not bad, I had a nice preceptor. I learned a lot, and orientation is going well, considering it was only my 3rd day. However, I swear that every trigger I have was hit today.

Dealt with domestic violence reports all morning. Talked about the local domestic violence safe house/counseling program that I was able to go to for counseling. That discussion took me by surprise. I didn't tell anyone that's where I went, but first thing we did in the morning was order a consult so that one of our mom's could be referred to that program. Knife to the heart.

Dirty jokes at the nurse's station almost had me in tears. Deep breaths as I suffocate in the wide open.

We had a baby born from a sexual assault. Another jab.

My friend's nephew died by suicide today because he couldn't handle life after his dad had passed away a few months ago. Flashback to Country Boy, and my heart nearly stopped.

First thing that came on t.v. was a show about a girl who was being abused by her boyfriend, and it almost sounded just like my story with ex-fiance. What are you doing to me L-rd???

I change the channel to find something a little less triggering and one of ex-boyfriend's favorite movies comes on. Just let it be done, let me escape this life.



From the people, to the smells, to the sounds and songs, to the jokes, and everything else that happened today; I was bombarded with triggers. I excused myself during some of the conversations to go get my aromatherapy, but it wasn't the one that is strong enough to get me out of my flashbacks. I don't know if I will be able to work postpartum if this is going to keep up.

A couple days ago I had a drink with a friend and learned that ex-fiance (who told me he was moving to another state "because I called the cops")is actually still here. I haven't even started the other job where ex-boyfriend has family working, who know me and probably despise me now. That probably won't be a good situation if they are still working there.

I don't know what I was thinking!!! How am I supposed to be able to survive living here, with all of my past a part of my every day journey to the bottom of a deep chasm that I had climbed out of when I moved to Small Town last year.

Survival was barely feasible there, 8 hours away from this place. What on earth would make me believe I could survive by facing my dark past at every turn of every day?

Life Goes On

I survived both/all three? first year anniversaries from my assaults. I write both, because it was over two days. I put three, because there were three assaults.

Anywho, I survived them. Yesterday was hard, but I made myself eat (dinner...), I used my essential oils, I had a glass of wine, Roomie and I made a list of 10 reasons why I am better off without exboyfriend, I bought myself flowers, and I skipped the class I could (peds) and did the things I absolutely had to do (world religions). Then, after all that, I woke up this morning. I may have struggled yesterday, and today, but now my two days of anniversaries are done and life will go on for awhile longer... unfortunately.

Today in counseling, we discussed how I probably don't need to be going in very much anymore. I'm cutting down to once a week next week. I know that counseling is only supposed to be temporary, to get you able to survive in life alone again, but I'm sad that this season is coming to a close. Counselor asked what else I felt like I needed to work on and I couldn't think of anything. I mentioned self-esteem, but we determined I am way better in that department than I was ever before in my life... I brought up rational thought and confidence, and we determined I was growing well in those areas as well... I'm becoming more assertive, setting boundaries, and I'm learning how to cope with my traumatic past. She told me she thinks I'm graduated from PTSD to post-traumatic growth. Look it up, I guess it's a real thing.

I saw it mentioned on some documentary that I woke up to, because I sleep with my television on. The psychiatrist on the documentary was saying that post-traumatic growth is being able to be better than baseline after your healing begins after a trauma.

So, imagine your life at baseline. You have a traumatic event and it plummets you past the deepest valley you could ever imagine for yourself. You are suspected to be in post-traumatic growth when you slowly work back up to your baseline (before your trauma) but then somehow surpass that level.

I was reading somewhere online that mentioned that post-traumatic growth can be suspected (that sounds negative, but it's actually a really good thing) when: you find joy in the smaller things in life, stressful things don't phase you as much, you can reflect on your traumatic experiences and they don't completely floor you, you are happy again or happier than you were before (because you understand the value of life), and there were others but I cannot find the article nor can I fully remember. But, whatever the points were, I met them all!

Yes, each day is still full of triggers and many days are a huge struggle, but I get through them and don't stay in bed all day! I am beginning to look forward for my future again, and I am beginning to forgive myself and understand that I could have done nothing to make the situation better. It wasn't my fault. This understanding is still very much a struggle most days, but I'm believing it more days than not.

I have a hope. I have a future. I have a life to live and people to prove wrong. I have guys to give the biggest middle finger to of living a life they told me I could never live.

Counselor and I discussed how I feel guilty but also relieved to say that I hate these guys. I hate what they did to me. I hate that they ruined my life. I hate that they have no traumatic aftermath and I have no permanent healing ever, for the rest of my life!

These fuckers destroyed my life, fucked up my brain, invaded my body in the most brutal of ways, and my life will never be the same. I'll never be innocent again. I will never get back what they stole. There is a good chance I will never get justice.

So, living my life the way they told me I never could is my best payback. L-rd, give me a loving, kind, gracious, wonderful husband that shows me the way ladies and people are supposed to be loved! L-rd, provide me with the sweetest, most beautiful, kind, smart, wonderful, blessed children! L-rd, bless me in my nursing career and pave the way for me wherever I may go! Open doors that I never dreamed were possible, even when I was completely "pure" and not polluted by the pure evil these assholes forced upon me. L-rd, show Satan that he does not win by blessing my life and allowing me to live ridiculously joyfully and happy for the rest of my life! L-rd, redeem me and give me justice! Most of all, L-rd, do not turn your back on me. Do not leave me or forget me. Remember the things I've had to survive and give me years of peach, joy, happiness, excitement (only good excitement), love, contentment, and absolute bliss.

Baruch HaShem! Bless you L-rd for all you've done for me so far and heal my heart, my body, and my mind oh L-rd.

Selfish by Choice

School started last week but these first two weeks are all sorts of janky. My typical schedule for classes and life will not begin until next Monday but I'm totally okay with that.

I had counseling again yesterday. She told me I'm not strong enough to go over the really hard stuff yet, so we started working on coping strategies... That's solid. I kept losing my mind between last week's session and yesterday but it turns out that the coping techniques I was accidentally using through the week are actually legit coping techniques that are taught in counseling. Walking/sitting outside, warm/cold water, etc. I begin coloring at my next session.

I told my counselor how hard my first OB class was with the birthing videos. I had also nearly started crying during my skills lab for OB because we had to do vaginal exams to check dilation and that is apparently a HUGE trigger for me, along with damn near everything else. With this in mind, I was advised to take a semester off. I told her that is not an option because I want to be done with nursing school and I want to graduate with my friends. Once she realized that I am not going to budge on this, we made a plan for me to start going twice a weeks (in a couple weeks because she is crazy busy with her life too!). Then, we'll spend a lot of time working on coping methods so that I can get through OB and then begin to work on my tough stuff before I graduate and move and she graduates.

I guess we'll see where that gets us.

Exfiance texts me after my sessions asking what we talked about in my session. I normally keep it pretty under wraps when I was with my last counselor and then also with my new one. Yesterday, I was just not having his bullshit at all. He asked what we talked about and I told him I didn't want to talk about it. He told me he hates when I keep stuff from him. Well, Fucker, you lost that privalage when you decided to lie to me all the time, disregard my refusal for you to use my body however the hell you felt like using it, and I took it away when I broke up with you. Alright? So no, you do not get to make me feel guilty if you think I might be keeping stuff from you. I am because we are no longer together and you kept everything from me! Don't give me this shit.

So, after not talking with him yesterday, he texted me today to ask if I would "finally tell him why I was mad yesterday." I wasn't mad yesterday, I just didn't want to talk about it with him because it's not of his fucking business. It never should have been because I have trauma that is only my business that he doesn't need to know about. He can support me working through it without forcing me to tell him every damn detail. I told him something along those lines and reminded him of all the lies and information he kept from me and all of the double standards he kept for what I was supposed to do/tell him as opposed to what he did/told me. He didn't like that but I'm learning to stand up for myself. It's starting with him and my family then I will work on my friends. I'm sick of taking shit and I'm so over worrying about everyone else when NOBODY concerns themselves with what I may need/want/etc.

Therefore, I'm working on being intentionally selfish for a season.