This is the first time I am admitting that I was a victim. And it's taken me almost 10 years. When I was 20 years old, my fiancé at the time suffered a psychotic break and tried to kill me. It wasn't a quick thing; it went on for several hours. He'd been using coke for 3 days straight (new to him at the time, though it had become clear at that point that he was an alcoholic). I had stopped by to check on him, unaware of his condition, and at some point he attacked the guy who was living with him. He looked determined to kill him, so I jumped in.
That's when he decided to direct all of his rage at me. He didn't seem to recognize me, and I certainly didn't recognize him. The other guy ran off, promising to call the police. They never came. No one did. I was there for several hours. My fiancé vowed to not let me leave the apartment and said he was going to torture me. He kept his word. I took a knife to the chest, and various other injuries. I was completely ready to die and expected it. I was actually happy; I felt a huge sense of release.
But I didn't die. I got up at some point and fought back, escaped. Drove myself to the hospital. And didn't tell a soul about what had happened. I called my family and said I'd been in a car accident, told my boss at work the same thing. I'm sure plenty of people would judge me for handling it that way, but the truth is I couldn't stand the thought of being a victim. Of family and friends showing up and looking at me with pity on their faces. I turned stone that day and couldn't cry for years.
I had been scheduled to go through several weeks of "defensive tactics" training for my job, which involved knife defense and hand to hand combat. Rather than dealing with what had happened to me, I pushed it down as far as I could and went through this training. I still had injuries. But like I said, I'd turned into stone. I felt nothing.
For years now, I have felt nothing. I have been unable to admit that I was a victim and that it is okay for me to be damaged from the incident. I moved overseas and learned a new language, in some weird attempt to reprogram my brain and become a new person, forget what happened. But it has caught up with me, as I should've known it would. Nightmares, panic attacks and general anxiety. I don't believe in warmth and love and all those things that we've been programmed to live for ... so I don't really know where to go from here. How to build relationships when I expect others to harm me, how to feel. I realize I've been avoiding dealing with this for years, both by self-medicating with alcohol and being an adrenaline junkie. Any feedback would be appreciated. I just needed to finally admit to myself that I have a problem.
That's when he decided to direct all of his rage at me. He didn't seem to recognize me, and I certainly didn't recognize him. The other guy ran off, promising to call the police. They never came. No one did. I was there for several hours. My fiancé vowed to not let me leave the apartment and said he was going to torture me. He kept his word. I took a knife to the chest, and various other injuries. I was completely ready to die and expected it. I was actually happy; I felt a huge sense of release.
But I didn't die. I got up at some point and fought back, escaped. Drove myself to the hospital. And didn't tell a soul about what had happened. I called my family and said I'd been in a car accident, told my boss at work the same thing. I'm sure plenty of people would judge me for handling it that way, but the truth is I couldn't stand the thought of being a victim. Of family and friends showing up and looking at me with pity on their faces. I turned stone that day and couldn't cry for years.
I had been scheduled to go through several weeks of "defensive tactics" training for my job, which involved knife defense and hand to hand combat. Rather than dealing with what had happened to me, I pushed it down as far as I could and went through this training. I still had injuries. But like I said, I'd turned into stone. I felt nothing.
For years now, I have felt nothing. I have been unable to admit that I was a victim and that it is okay for me to be damaged from the incident. I moved overseas and learned a new language, in some weird attempt to reprogram my brain and become a new person, forget what happened. But it has caught up with me, as I should've known it would. Nightmares, panic attacks and general anxiety. I don't believe in warmth and love and all those things that we've been programmed to live for ... so I don't really know where to go from here. How to build relationships when I expect others to harm me, how to feel. I realize I've been avoiding dealing with this for years, both by self-medicating with alcohol and being an adrenaline junkie. Any feedback would be appreciated. I just needed to finally admit to myself that I have a problem.
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