They say things will work out.

I’m finding out they don’t.

They say that Someone is looking out for you and has your best interest at heart.

I’m beginning to think Someone lost faith a long time ago and moved on to people He actually gives a damn about.

They say no one will hurt you again.

They will. And they won’t even give it a second thought.

They say those who love you will help you through it.

When your back is up against the wall, no one will be in your corner but you. No one will save you but yourself.

They say to turn the other cheek.

Fuck them and fight like hell.

So, I go to my dad’s office today. I mention I’m having anxiety attacks and am having a hard time breathing. He looks at me, with a smirk on his face, and says, “Just calm down.”

He laughs.

Hilarious.

So, I got another book: Judging Victims: Why We Stigmatize Survivors, and How They Reclaim Respect  by Jennifer L. Dunn, 2010.  Take that, Pops. 

People don’t know how to handle disclosures. Especially when it’s immediately after the event. Here are some of the things people say:

“Why were you drinking?”

“Why were you dressed like that?”

“Why didn’t you know better?”

It’s society’s way of putting the burden on her. Shame on them.

Dunn, 2010, says, this:

If we judge victims, we hold them up to a standard of innocence, and if they fall short, we treat them accordingly. (Pg 2)

I also got another book: Street Wisdom For Women: A Handbook for Urban Survival, by Gerard Whittemore, 1986. 

I found an excellent passage that talks about what it’s like, in the survivor’s case, when a rape has occurred:

The actual experience of the rape attack may be only the beginning of the victim’s suffering. Rape is a crime that lives on with the victim - often for the rest of her life - not in the case of the physical injury, which, one hopes is temporary, but of the psychological trauma (Pg 3).

It’s been a year, and as much as I don’t want to believe it, I’m a different person than I was then. It makes me incredibly sad because it wasn’t my choice. It wasn’t my choice to change. No one asks to be violated in such a way that it scars your soul.

And finally from Whittemore,

Someday, the truth that rape is not the victim’s fault will be unequivocally understood. It is the rapist’s, and no one will ever again question or qualify this fact. Rape is something that is forced on a woman. No woman “asks” to be raped. She is the innocent victim, and that is a fact that she, if no one else, should understand. (Pg 17)

The victim is a survivor. She’s fought hard and made it far. It’s time society realizes how hard she fights.

It’s only the end of January and already 2012 is looking up! Here are some bests:

The Dow and S&P are seeing their best start in 15 years

Awesome!

Indiana has the most promising jobs outlook for 2012

Cool!

The ZLI Camaro was the most anticipated car this month!

You did it!

Iceland is the best vacation destination this month

Way to go, 2012! You’re already making headlines. 

Hope doesn’t come from calculating whether the good news is winning out over the bad. It’s simply a choice to take action. - Anna Lappe

The emergency stage. Beginning to deal with memories and long-suppressed feelings can throw your life into turmoil. This is a time when emotional pain is intense, the old coping mechanisms are no longer intact, and it may be difficult  to function at your usual level. Remember, this stage won’t last forever (The Book, pg 56).

I was sitting in class.

It was a beautiful day and I was surrounded by friends while the professor was kindly rambling off on a subject that was relevant to today’s modern student in an evolving world. Education at its finest.

And this was probably my most coherent thought:

“Holy fuck.”

Or, maybe, the more sophisticated:

“Holy shitting fuck.”

Compelling. Makes for great reading.

I was totally freaking out. It happened everywhere and lasted for days on end. The worst part - it’s mentally exhausting. Your body was not supposed to be on high alert all the time.

When I got more vocabulary as the days went on, the thoughts slipped to “He’s telling me to take my clothes off. Oh my God he’s telling me to take my clothes off.”

“Holy fuck.”

Then, the vocabulary I’d worked so hard on mastering left my mind once again and I was left, once again, with only 4 letter words (adding, of course, the occasional “ing” for variety).

I literally couldn’t function anymore. I was terrified and paralyzed.

Mentally, I’d left my body. I was no longer there. I was right back to where the danger was and I was experiencing the same terror that paralyzed me before. So, what was I supposed to do? Force your mind to forget it? That might work for you, I don’t know. I’m no expert.

I started talking. I went to my professor’s office and told them I wouldn’t be in class that day because I was having severe anxiety and needed to get help. They were worried it was over classwork.

I wish.

After I turned in my homework for that day, I went straight to the counseling center.

The most important lesson I learned from this stage: When you freak out, reach out. People will help.

It’s not a question of being strong. It’s not a question of looking weak. No one should question your strength because you’ve been resilient enough to survive the encounter in the first place.

You survived. You are strong.

But, no one can carry such a heavy burden alone.

You can’t pull the veil of fear off your own eyes when you can’t see. You need someone to help you. People love you. They care about you. They want you to ask for help.

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: You don’t give up. - Anne Lamott

You don’t give up.

So, a few months ago, I was there. I was searching for answers. I was totally confused as to how I should feel and how I was actually feeling. The truth is -

IT’S GOOD TO NOT BE OKAY. That means you’re healing.

I wish someone had told me that a looooonnnngg time ago.

You see, healing does not happen in a linear pattern. It’s more spherical. However, Ellen Bass and Laura Davis outline some of the stages an individual goes through. It’s all in The Courage to Heal. I recommend it to anyone who has survived a sexual whatever. Even if it wasn’t in childhood, there are key survival coping mechanisms you need to know. Answers helped me heal more than anything, so here in the apartment, it’s known as

The Book.

The Book gives a disclaimer: Although most of these stages are necessary for everyone, some — the emergency stage, remembering, disclosing abuse to your family and forgiveness — are not applicable to everyone (The Book, pg 56).

Here we go: 

The Decision to Heal

The Emergency Stage

Remembering

Believing It Happened

Breaking Silence

Understanding That It Wasn’t Your Fault

The Child Within

Grieving

Anger

Disclosures and Truth-Telling

Forgiveness

Spirituality

Resolution and Moving On

Can you believe that last one actually exists? Wow. I think that’s the only one I haven’t visited at least 12 times. Seriously. 12 times. Ask my roommates.

As I move through the stages, I want to share my experiences. Most of the time, I’ll title the posts the name of the stage if I notice I’m going through a particular stage.

I never realized how difficult this journey would be. It’s been an entire year of counseling and I’m just now getting to the point where I can be more open about it. Every person is different. Every experience is different. Allow your body to tell your mind what it needs and listen when it starts talking. 

P.S. Does anyone else wonder what happened to the 5 stages of grief? It was so neat and orderly… going from Stage 1 to Stage 2 to Stage Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah.

This one has 13 stages. 1-3. That’s almost 3x as many and about just as unlucky. These 13 stages are going to take you through hell. But, as somebody important said at some point in history, “When you’re going through hell, you better keep walking.”

Ladies and gents, it’s time to get a little messy, a little emotional, and a little unlucky 13 stages.

Today I sang to her.

Today I held her.

Today I told her it wasn’t her fault.

The hardest part about remembering is feeling. Feeling his skin against your skin. Feeling like you want to burn your skin off so you don’t have to feel it anymore. It feels so dirty. It feels like you can’t scrub hard enough to get the memory off yourself.

Today I realized it really happened.And not just remembered it happened like I was checking off a grocery list. I reconnected with the emotion. It’s something completely different and 100x scarier than just remembering.

I remembered all of it - the physical feel and the emotional terror. My body physically cringes when I think about it. But I realized something else too.

Today I realized I will defeat this.

Frodo: I need you on my side.
Sam: I’m on your side, Mr Frodo.
Frodo: I know you are, Sam.

Sam: [Both are overcome by exhaustion] Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo? It’ll be spring soon. And the orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And they’ll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields… and eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries?
Frodo: No, Sam. I can’t recall the taste of food… nor the sound of water… nor the touch of grass. I’m… naked in the dark, with nothing, no veil… between me… and the wheel of fire! I can see him… with my waking eyes!
Sam: Then let us be rid of it… once and for all! Come on, Mr. Frodo. I can’t carry it for you… but I can carry you!

Frodo: I can’t do this, Sam.
Sam: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo… and it’s worth fighting for.

No one can carry a burden so great alone.

I guess when I started this journey, I thought it was be an easy “It happened, I won’t let it define me.” I envisioned myself staying strong and fighting hard to the end.

What I couldn’t have guessed was how hard the battle was.

Not only has it affected my psychologically, it affects me physically. I went to the health center today because I couldn’t breathe and I thought it was asthma. I figured a quick RX inhaler and I’d be on my way. Nope.

There is nothing physically wrong with me. My body is reacting from anxiety.

I hate this. It’s like a darkness hangs over my head, waitng to swallow me whole. It’s like I have 100 extra pounds on my shoulders and I’ve got to keep running. I feel it physically dragging me down and I don’t know how much longer I can handle it.

It feels as if my body is attacking itself. But, it is just reminding me to slow down. It needs care.

I want to be at the end of the tunnel. I want to see the light. But the only way out is through the darkness.

I had no idea how deep the hole was.

Let’s be real. All it entails is walking.

Sure you’ve got a pack.

Sure you’re 19,000 feet above sea level.

Sure people have died and hundreds of others have had to be sent back because they couldn’t make the ascent to the top.

But come on. All you have to do is walk.

And so it goes. These are the thoughts swirling through my head as I embark on the first day of training. Of course, 2 miles of running and 20 flights of stairs later, my legs say otherwise.

My father is going too. A main motivation for my wanting to go. I mean, let’s face it. Some day, he’ll be dead. Heck. Someday, I’ll be dead. I’m done waiting around for my life to start.

So it all starts with the idea to go walking…