MrsKubalabuku
New Here
I'm not sure how to start all this, but I'm desperate for support so I'll just dump out my heart on the page.
My name is Jessi, I'm 23 years old, and I was raped almost 4 years ago. It was a stranger attack. I was a virgin, but I found myself pregnant after the event. I made arrangements for the baby to be adopted, but lost him at 5 months. Sometimes I think I hear a baby crying at night. Rarely I'll find myself tearing the house apart trying to save him. I have a son now, and I know it freaks him out to see his Mom going crazy. I spend hours standing by his crib while he sleeps, afraid he won't take his next breath.
Immediately following the rape there were mistakes in my care. I was not taken to a hospital. The first counselors I saw used the phrase "If you were raped..." repeatedly. This is part of what caused most of my problems. I was bloody, bruised, and clearly disturbed beyond measure! It made me afraid to reach out.
I was in the military, but have since been medically retired (at age 21) because of the PTSD. To me it felt as though nobody in the military took my case seriously until I had an episode at work when a male in my office accidentally cornered me between a wall and filing cabinet. I still don't know what happened, but I somehow bruised his face badly. He forgave me quickly, but I have always felt guilt.
9 months ago they finally put the man who raped me in jail. I never saw his face, never even let them tell me his name. I felt as though if I didn't know anything about him, I'd never have to acknowledge he was human and not a monster.
I can't cope with daily life now. Since the rape I met and married a wonderful man who accepted me for all that I was and all that happened. When I told him about it he looked me straight in the eye and told me it didn't count as losing my virginity, which meant worlds to me. We have a storybook romance with only a few slight problems. (Mostly stemming from my confidence issues.) We have an 18 month old boy together. We bought a house, have 2 huge dogs, and by all outward appearances we live the American dream.
But behind it all my husband is finding it harder and harder to cope, as my anxiety and insomnia get worse and worse. He often tells me he doesn't know how to help me anymore. I think he blames himself at times for not meeting me sooner, not knowing me before it happened and helping me get home safe that night. I try to reassure him there was no way he could have known, but for both of us the kind gestures and words fall flat to what we really need.
I tried to join a local group once, but I was scared off by something stupid: I met women who had been raped over 30 years ago. I couldn't face the fact that this wasn't something that would just go away in time. While they were kind and supportive, it was like glimpsing a future I couldn't handle yet. I feel better able to handle it now, but I'm in a different city and am terrified of starting over.
I talk about my life in 2 segments. The Jessi Before and the Jessi Now. It felt like who I was died that night and some strange woman rose up and took her place. I often feel like I'm living in a show, the Jessi Now acting the part of the Jessi Before. And the Jessi Now is a bad actress.
I don't sleep at night. For the last month and a half I've only slept 4 hours a day MAX. The doctors have tried sleep aids, up to 60mg of Valium, and they fail. I'm up for a sleep study soon, but I'm too scared to go to the clinic and sleep on a bed being monitored. I try to tell myself that if I get there and am too scared to sleep it's golden because that is what they are looking for. But it's like the Jessi Before trying to get the Jessi Now to let her guard down. I'll probably get dragged to the clinic sometime kicking and screaming.
I have military insurance, but it doesn't seem like these doctors really care. They always call and cancel or postpone my appointments and don't listen to my requests to see a psychiatrist for possible anti-anxiety medication. My last counselor saw me for a few weeks and then went on maternity leave without informing me. I feel helpless and want to give up, but my family needs me to keep trying.
Sometimes people miss what I'm trying to say. I get confused when I try to talk about my emotions and experiences. Sometimes it's hard to separate past from future, real from imaginary. Only my closest friends and family know what happened. Most of my family still doesn't know. I hope someday I can tell them.
Overall, I know I have have a good life now. I'm searching for a way to get control of myself, my fears and emotions, and my sleep so I can properly enjoy the amazing family and home I have been gifted with.
I don't know what else to say.
My name is Jessi, I'm 23 years old, and I was raped almost 4 years ago. It was a stranger attack. I was a virgin, but I found myself pregnant after the event. I made arrangements for the baby to be adopted, but lost him at 5 months. Sometimes I think I hear a baby crying at night. Rarely I'll find myself tearing the house apart trying to save him. I have a son now, and I know it freaks him out to see his Mom going crazy. I spend hours standing by his crib while he sleeps, afraid he won't take his next breath.
Immediately following the rape there were mistakes in my care. I was not taken to a hospital. The first counselors I saw used the phrase "If you were raped..." repeatedly. This is part of what caused most of my problems. I was bloody, bruised, and clearly disturbed beyond measure! It made me afraid to reach out.
I was in the military, but have since been medically retired (at age 21) because of the PTSD. To me it felt as though nobody in the military took my case seriously until I had an episode at work when a male in my office accidentally cornered me between a wall and filing cabinet. I still don't know what happened, but I somehow bruised his face badly. He forgave me quickly, but I have always felt guilt.
9 months ago they finally put the man who raped me in jail. I never saw his face, never even let them tell me his name. I felt as though if I didn't know anything about him, I'd never have to acknowledge he was human and not a monster.
I can't cope with daily life now. Since the rape I met and married a wonderful man who accepted me for all that I was and all that happened. When I told him about it he looked me straight in the eye and told me it didn't count as losing my virginity, which meant worlds to me. We have a storybook romance with only a few slight problems. (Mostly stemming from my confidence issues.) We have an 18 month old boy together. We bought a house, have 2 huge dogs, and by all outward appearances we live the American dream.
But behind it all my husband is finding it harder and harder to cope, as my anxiety and insomnia get worse and worse. He often tells me he doesn't know how to help me anymore. I think he blames himself at times for not meeting me sooner, not knowing me before it happened and helping me get home safe that night. I try to reassure him there was no way he could have known, but for both of us the kind gestures and words fall flat to what we really need.
I tried to join a local group once, but I was scared off by something stupid: I met women who had been raped over 30 years ago. I couldn't face the fact that this wasn't something that would just go away in time. While they were kind and supportive, it was like glimpsing a future I couldn't handle yet. I feel better able to handle it now, but I'm in a different city and am terrified of starting over.
I talk about my life in 2 segments. The Jessi Before and the Jessi Now. It felt like who I was died that night and some strange woman rose up and took her place. I often feel like I'm living in a show, the Jessi Now acting the part of the Jessi Before. And the Jessi Now is a bad actress.
I don't sleep at night. For the last month and a half I've only slept 4 hours a day MAX. The doctors have tried sleep aids, up to 60mg of Valium, and they fail. I'm up for a sleep study soon, but I'm too scared to go to the clinic and sleep on a bed being monitored. I try to tell myself that if I get there and am too scared to sleep it's golden because that is what they are looking for. But it's like the Jessi Before trying to get the Jessi Now to let her guard down. I'll probably get dragged to the clinic sometime kicking and screaming.
I have military insurance, but it doesn't seem like these doctors really care. They always call and cancel or postpone my appointments and don't listen to my requests to see a psychiatrist for possible anti-anxiety medication. My last counselor saw me for a few weeks and then went on maternity leave without informing me. I feel helpless and want to give up, but my family needs me to keep trying.
Sometimes people miss what I'm trying to say. I get confused when I try to talk about my emotions and experiences. Sometimes it's hard to separate past from future, real from imaginary. Only my closest friends and family know what happened. Most of my family still doesn't know. I hope someday I can tell them.
Overall, I know I have have a good life now. I'm searching for a way to get control of myself, my fears and emotions, and my sleep so I can properly enjoy the amazing family and home I have been gifted with.
I don't know what else to say.
