| More Dreams |
[Sep. 4th, 2007|07:52 pm] |
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I had a bad dream last night. It wasn't very scary and nothing hurt me, but it was about things that I don't want to be part of my life any more. Things are really good right now. My year has passes, so the worst of the PTS is over and now I've moved to a new place where the bad bits of my past can't find me and play no part in my life. I started reading Livejournal again for the first time really since I left Oberlin and talked a little to some oberlin people about Oberlin things, so I guess the dream came from that. I think I'm going to keep reading, though, and keep talking to people that I know from Oberlin. I miss them and I miss knowing what's going on in there lives. I think that if I make a few new memories that are non-trauma related, then the bad things won't be the last and most prominent things that I associate with my college career. It is, truly and completely, time to move on. |
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| The List |
[Apr. 23rd, 2007|09:47 am] |
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I have a list. Not really, I mean it's just in my head, not writen down, but it's about six people long and it's a list of people I know who have been sexually molested at some point in there lives. It ranges from being gropped by a baby sitter to gang rape. It's a terrible, scary list, and I wish I didn't have it. I cling so hard to the things in life that I have to be happy about. I treasure the knowledge of good relationships that me friends are in. I wish that there was omething I could do, though, to keep them safe. Everything from flowers to the people that I love most. |
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| Another name |
[Mar. 31st, 2007|10:18 pm] |
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I have another name to add to my list. I hate my list. On a selfish note, everything kind of got put in perspective for me. I'm doing really well. I'm healing and I'm still living the life that I want to live. Considering that the statistics are one in three, I'm really lucky, both that It wasn't as bad as it is for many, many women, and that I'm recovering so well and so quickly. |
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| Still not quite okay |
[Mar. 26th, 2007|11:26 pm] |
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I had a wonderful yime this weekend. It was one of the best weekends I've had in a while. I spent it with some of my best friends from High School and we watched movies and stayed uplate and told silly jokes and laughed at everything. That's why it was so aweful that I got upset. A massive tickle fight started at about 4:00am and suddenly I just wasn't okay. I realised that I couldn't intract with my friends the way that I used to. I' to the point that hugs and such from my friends don't make me scared any more, but I'm not up to having tickle fights. It hurt so much to suddenly be excluded from the life that I had before. Because of what happened last spring, I lost something that made me so happy, and I was cut off from people who I loved and trusted. The feeling continued when we woke up the next morning, and I ended up crying several times that day, both quietly so no one noticed and infront of them. I talked to one of them today, and she said it was okay, and I didn't have to be all the way healed, so I feel better now, but I'm still not back to normal. Not by a long shot. I wish I were. I hope that my friends will forgive me and be pacient with me until I am. |
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| What Dr. Carol Said |
[Feb. 17th, 2007|11:45 am] |
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Dr. Carol says that I did well at the show. She says that I had the panic attack, but I didn't run away and let it control me the way that I did six months ago. She says that I need to recognise that I've suffered a trama and not get frustrated, since it takes time to heal. She says to measure progress by how much better I reacted, not by how I think I should be. She says I'm healing. |
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| Plans on hold |
[Feb. 4th, 2007|01:06 am] |
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I went to a show today out of town, and he was there. He saw me. I did not skip town, which was good, but that's where the good things stopped. I went to the bathroom and had a class A panic attack. Lots of crying and hyperventilating and nausea. With help I managed to go to the show still, but I'm still depressed and sick and apt to fall apart. I suppose that this is still progress, but I did spend half and hour near hysterical because I met someone's eyes. I did not say hi. I'm not going to try for a while. |
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| Now the next step |
[Jan. 26th, 2007|05:26 pm] |
Here's why I need this journal again. I've started seeing him around campus. Every time I go to class, I pass him in the hall or something like that. He emailed me and asked how classes were. I'm doing alright; the first time I saw him I went to the bathroom and hyperventalated for a while, but then I went to class. I did NOT skip town. I was really proud of myelf. I did get very upset the first time I heard his voice, and it occured to me that one of the types of pills that I had wold kill me if I took enough of them, but I went home and asked Mom to hide them for me. Other than that, I managed not to get upset.
The problem is, beside it just being scary to be around him, now I'm waiting for the whole thing to explode. We have both been carfully pretending that we don't know eachother, but I'm scared to death that someone might figure out that we know eahother, and I'll get sucked back into the world of last semester, where I was a stupid, worthless sex doll who was hated because she couldn't be a good sex doll and be happy with the life that she was meant for. I'm pretty sure that that won't happen, but I'm still scard. I talked to Dr. Carol about it, and she says that I should say 'hi' to him. Not actually talk to him, but some how aknowledge that I know him, just to get the elephant out of the room. If I can say hi and escape with some hyperventalating, then I won't be so scared that if some one connects us together, or if he talks to me, I'll be sucked back into that world. You know, deal with the fear so that I can move passed it.
So, that's the plan. It's not a good one, or a pleasent one, but I want to bury the past forever so that I can move on with my life. If saying hi is what it takes, then I must. Hopefully nothing bad will happen as a result. I think that I'll need this journal again, though. |
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| A story long in coming |
[Jan. 26th, 2007|05:09 pm] |
I haven't updated here in a while, although I should have. Somethings were going on that I didn't want to talk about, even here, and I kept putting it off and putting it off. A lot of things have happened since then, but I couldn't write about them without having to write about the first thing, any way, I'm going to have to update this journal now, because I need it again.
Okay, a couple of months I began to think about suiside. The thing happenedwith the five Omish girls, and I hated having to live in a world were that kind of thing happened, particularly because the guy molested some of his younger relatives. There is never a good reason to kill little girls, but that is the worst that I can think of. After that I couldn't stop thinking about cutting my wrists. Not that I actually wanted to try to kill myself, I just wanted to make sure that I had the option if I needed to. I never actually cut myself, but it got to the point that every time I was the least bit upset I could barely stop myself from running into the kitchen and grabbing a knife. When my brain was otherwise occupied, like a work, I couldn't stop imagining how I would kill myself.
So, I started taking steps to prevent myself from doing enything like that. Among other things, I went on antidepressents. (That's a story in itself. Drugs and I are not friends.) After that, I got better. Once I got the Drug Issues worked out, I was much happier, and I had a series of successes. I was less scared on campus and started making eye contact with people. I started working on John's show. I spent the night in Oberlin. I started hugging people again. A couple of weeks ago, I actually went on Campus at Oberlin. Not only did I goto the Con and not die, but I wasn't even really scared. No one ever hurt me at the Con, but I really felt like there wasn't anyone on Campus who would hurt me. It was nice. |
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| The difficulty of living life |
[Oct. 26th, 2006|08:36 pm] |
I wonder what it's like to have genuinely hurt some one, to have scarred them so deeply that it will be years before they can be touched by another person without being scared to death, and not care. To not even feel guilty. Why are people like this? We don't people care when they hurt other people? Society can't function like this. Human beings can't live together if there isn't some system to discourage people from hurting other people. I can understand why people want the justice system to be punative sometimes. There are people out there who can ruin someone's life completely and have forgotten it the next morning because it means so little to them. Or better yet, be mad because the person that they damaged can't function normally anymore and it's inconvenient.
My life have become my worst nightmares. What happened to me was every bad dream I ever had that didn't envolve spiders, and it donsn't matter at all. It is so hard to live in this world every day, and that's no one's fault but my own. I watched the West Wing Episode of Noel a little while ago, and I felt Josh's pain a little bit. I actually had'have post tramatic stress disorder. I wish that some how I could be fixed and I could go to work and not have thoughs of rape and abuse run through my head all the time. I with I could go on Campus without the constant low level of fear. Will some one please come in and tell me that the night mare that my life has become is just a dream again. |
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| A question about going to Oberlin. |
[Sep. 30th, 2006|04:41 pm] |
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I'm going up to Oberlin next weekend for a couple of hours to see if I can. I talked to Dr. Carol, and she thinks it's a good idea, so I'm going to try again and see if I can control the panic. The thing is that I probably won't be able to go there and be myself, even if I don't bolt for the next city and it's going to be the site of my friends that will set me off. So before I go, probably on wednesday, I must post an explanation to my regular journal. I thought that I would just say that I was sexually assulted at Oberlin last spring, and Oberlin and the people that I associate with it now induce panic attacks. No other explainations, just enough so that if I do end up running at the sight of some one I know, my behavior will be some what excused and I won't have to give any apologies or explainations. Just so that I have one less thing to worry about. I was wondering if the people who read this journal think that this will be okay. I know I probably shouldn't say anything, but I'm really trying to get over this, and I don't want the added guilt and fear of people thinking that I'm crazy or unreasonable or rude because of something I can't control right now. I really, really need people to be a little understanding right now. I suppose I should just stay away, but I'd rather not have a black hole in northern Ohio whence I cannot go, and I miss seeing people who are still there. |
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| Not yet dead |
[Sep. 14th, 2006|06:24 pm] |
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It wasn't so bad. I did freak out a bit, and cry, but there was niether screaming nor fighting, nor am I any scareder than I was before. I'll post further thoughts later, if I have them. |
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| Nervous, and other synonyms of scared |
[Sep. 14th, 2006|12:30 pm] |
The other day I was walking through City Center. I had had a bad day, trying to think of what I wanted to say to him when I saw him. Dr. Carol told me that I should have a plan, and be prepared to not get the kinds of responces that I was hoping for. The thing was, even when I imagined him saying the nicest, most comforting things, the pain of remembering what happened was greater than the relief of those answers, and I know that they were things that he would never say. There is no way that I could tell him how I feel and how hurt I still am by what happened that would not hurt me more.
As I walked, a man walked passed me and said "Smile, Pretty Lady." I didn't. I couldn't think of any reason to.
Now, today is the day. I'm really scared. Mindlessly, pointlessly scared, like Pavlov's dog salivating at the sound of a bell. I have nothing to be scared of, since he can't physically hurt me, and probably doesn't want to, but I'm still scared. For the past year every time I've seen him, he hurt me. I can't imagine that this time will be any different. I still have nothing to say to him about the past, even though this is supposed to be my big chance. I figure that I'll just print out this journal and give it to him, since it has most of what I've gone through for the past months. He won't like it, but I'll warn him and tell him he doesn't have to read it if he doesn't want to. At least if he does, then he'll understand that I'm hurt, so maybe he won't accidentally do the same thing to another girl. I really hope so. I've been thinking a lot about practicing comming suiside, and I know that it's not healthy. It's hard to live with this. |
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| Dear God I'm scared |
[Sep. 6th, 2006|03:47 pm] |
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Invitation made and accepted. I think I might be sick. I really don't want to do this. I used to promise myself every day that if I just made it until graduation I would never have to see him again. I wish I could keep that promise. |
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| Question Answered |
[Sep. 5th, 2006|04:50 pm] |
Last time I posted, I wrote about my doubts and concerns regarding having him come to my therapy session. It was a scary prospect, and I couldn't tell if there was really any reason to, or if it would be more beneficial than detrimental. Well, this weekend made it clear that I must ask him to come. I was at my old college this weekend, and I saw some people that I knew eating in a restaurant, and I thought that perhaps he was there. I bolted. I completely panicked and ran away. When my friend stopped me several blocks away, I was crying and shaking and hyperventilating. She got me to calm down a little, but I didn't stop panicking until I was well out of town, and I didn't stop to eat anything until I was over an hour away.
So, I need to have him come to therapy, assuming he will come. I can't skip town every time I think I see him. I have to go to class in places where he might very well be. Even if I manage not to bolt, I can't go to class in hysterics from terror. Dr. Carol says that she can deal with thee fear, so that I can go to class without something like this happening. I still don't know what to say to him, or if I should say anything at all, but the panic must be dealt with if I want to live my life in the way I planned. |
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| Well, nothing's perfect |
[Aug. 22nd, 2006|09:32 pm] |
This is one thing that's bothering me. I went to see my Therapist when I got back and we talked about possible inviting him to my next appointment. There are pros and cons to doing this, and it might do more hharm that good, but it might make me feel safer at home and on Campus. The main point is to deal with the panic factor when I see him, because I will panic, and she thinks that seeing him in a safe place will her to help me deal with the panic will make me stop panicing when I see him or think about seeing him. I would really like that, but she also told me to think about what I want to talk to him about and what else I want to get out of our conversation. The more I try and think about it, the more I realise that I can't think of anything to say to him.
I want him to know that he hurt me, which is mean and vindictive, but I really don't think that he meant to hurt me like he did, but since he didn't understand what he was doing to me, there's nothing to stop him from hurting another girl in the same way. And he will do it again, not because he wants to, but statistically it's very likely, and since he doesn't even realise how much he hurt me, he has no reason not to. I've seen to many of my friends get hurt over the years, and I don't want any one else to go through what I did, particularly because I didn't act. My therapist says that I sound like a battered wife when I talk about what happened. I don't want anyone else to feel the way I felt last semester.
The problem is that I tried to tell him then. I tried every way I could think of sort of burning my bridges with almost all my friends, and nothing worked. Somethings helped for a while, but nothing made him stop touching me. I can't think of anything to say now that would work when nothing could then. I'm out of things to say. I'm not even completely sure that he cared whether or not he was hurting me. I don't know what to say to him. I don't want to see him again, because I'm scared that it will just bring back all of the pain I felt and make me start starving my self and stop sleeping again. I workjed hard to gain back the weight I lost. But, it's to deal with that fear that we want him to come. I don't know what to do. |
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| A long time away |
[Aug. 4th, 2006|08:14 pm] |
I haven’t posted here for a while, mostly because life has been pretty good for me. I’ve had my bad days, but mostly I’ve been happy, feeling confident that I have a new life here in Chicago that he’s never been a part of and that he can’t be part of. It’s been particularly good this last month, knowing that he isn’t even in the country, so he can’t touch me. I’ve been living with high school friends and reconnecting with others and I’m generally surrounded by people from the good times before I met him and my new life that he isn’t a part of accept as a memory.
However, he’s back in the US by now, and I’ve been having a recurring fear that he’ll come and find me in Chicago. I know that that’s silly, since there’s no reason for him to do that, but still, it’s hard to stop your subconscious. I had a dream about him last night for the first time in a month. It wasn’t bad, in that he didn’t hurt me or touch me, but it was still bad because it made it clear that I’m still not over what happened between us. I still really miss the friend that I had when we first met. I know that he doesn’t exist any more, and the last thing that I want to do is see the person that he is now, but I still miss the friend desperately.
Perhaps because of the dream, but probably equally because of the beautiful weather, I ran for the hills today. I drove for an hour through rush hour traffic up into the north of town and wandered around the neighborhoods north of Belmont. I actually stopped at a subway to have dinner, but I only managed to eat two bits before I couldn’t stand to sit any more and I eat the rest of my sub while walking. I avoided people as best I could, but that’s really hard in Chicago. I need to find a nice deserted park or something. The need to run from yourself and hid from the world do not mix in this town
I’ll be glad to get back home, where there are plenty of places for me to run too, but I don’t want to leave this safe house. When I get home, he’ll be there somewhere. I’m scared that He’ll find me, or simply that we’ll pass each other on the street. I hope that I can learn to feel safe at home. I don’t want to have to live in constant fear again, like I did last semester. I hope that I never see him again and can forget everything that happened. I miss the friend, but he is not that friend any more, and I know that he’ll hurt me if I see him again. |
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| What I'm thinking about instead of studying |
[Jul. 4th, 2006|08:35 pm] |
I've always been scared of being raped. I thought that I wouldn't feel safe within my own body any more. Now that I've had something like it happen to me, that's not how I feel. Perhaps it's because it wasn't vaginal and it wasn't some guy in a dark alley, I don't know since I have no basis of comparison, I feel fine with my body. I don't feel safe, but I feel safe within it. What hurts is the shame and the guilt. All of the fault in what happened is mine. I didn't think that I would, I know that they tell you that that's how you feel, but I always thought that that was silly. If you're raped, by definition it's not your fault, nor someing that you want. There's no guilt, not shame atteched any more. However, I hate myself for what happened.
I know that everything, the one time and all the others since January are all my fault. He has nothing to be ashamed of, and there's nothing in his behavior that he should change. He shouldn't have hurt me, but it was my fault that he hurt me, so whe should he change. What he did was fine, it was my reaction that was the problem. I shouldn't have felt that way. I said no, but I didn't say it often or firmly enough. I should have fought back. In the end I didn't even protest or cry in front of him any more. I just sat quietly and let him do what he wanted. Why didn't I fight back? Why couldn't I make him understand that I wasn't okay? Why wasn't I okay? People are in the situation that I was in all the time and it's fine. Why couldn't I be fine? Why wasn't I grateful for the attention?
These are the things that I think about when I think about what happened. I didn't expect to, but I do. In black and white, "I was sexually assulted" it doesn't seem like I should feel this way. If I was a better person, then this wouldn't have happened. Some times I don't think it was assault, I just reacted the wrong way. I rather hope it was, though. I'd like to think that hurting the way I am shouldn't happen. I'd like to think that something that made me feel as scared and hurt and damaged as I do isn't okay. |
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| Note to self: |
[Jun. 28th, 2006|08:54 pm] |
You do not like gin, nor do you like rum. Your tastes do not change because you are thinking bad thoughts, nor is drinking such beverages a good response to such thoughts.
Instead, read greek. |
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| Group therapy |
[Jun. 25th, 2006|02:09 pm] |
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The other day he emailed me and offered to try some kind of group therapy, along the lines of conflict resolution. I said that I wouldn't be able to until august, since I'm not living at home, but perhaps we could work something out then. I emailed my therapist and she said that this didn't sound like a good idea, since I was experiancing a lot of post tramatic stress symptomes, and seeing him again might just retramatize me. I as much as I resent the the term "retramatized" exists, I think that she's right. Since I heard from him, I've been having more dreams and it's harder to get to sleep. The things that I think about when I can't sleep are a lot more painful since I heard from him. I feel either scared or trapped all of the time. So, probably not. Hopefully he won't contact me again. |
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| More dreams and long held thoughts |
[Jun. 19th, 2006|08:15 am] |
I had another dream last night. It was about not being able to get away from him and being hurt and lashing out verbally to try to make him leave me alone and get out of my life. You'd think that making him leave me alone wouldn't be an issue any more, but I suppose that as long as I can't deal with what happened it's going to haunt me.
A lot has happened that I should write about, but I've been avoiding it. I spend enough time thinking about what happened that I don't want to relive it here, but I'm also spent too much time repressing it and not dealing with it. The other day I told my mom what happened. Not who or how or why or how long it went on, but that I was sexually assalted. She took it well, as I knew she would, but It was very difficult to say. (I'm never going to tell my dad. He couldn't handle it.) She told me that one of my friends when I was little was molested by a babysitter when she was eight years old. Dr. Carol told me that one in three women were sexually assalted in there lives. I think that that's really awful. Most of the time it's people that they know and trust, too. Date rape is much more common than random guy in a back ally, although I know people who have suffered both.
Both are damaging, but I'm better able to talk about date rape. The thing about date rape, or aquaintance rape, or generally being hurt by someone you know, is that it teaches you to fear the people that you love and trust. I'm not worried about walking the streets of Chicago alone, I'm worried about the people I've known for years and the nice guys who I meet who want my email address, since they are the ones who will use me and hurt me. I'm worried about being trapped again like I was last semester.
Dr. Carol says that the siduation that I was in last semester sounded like a child being abused by an adult, in that I could have physically stopped it, runn away or told some one who could have protected me, but due to the situation, I was scared and didn't feel like I could do any thing. Like it was his right to do what he did, and I was wrong to be upset by it. I'm an eight year old being molested by her babysitter. This is hard. |
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