Cherryblossom encouraged me to share the last part of my story, despite it being mostly upbeat. And she's right - we do need to tell the good parts here, don't we?
Here are links to parts 1, 2 & 3 of my story, if you want to know the bad stuff.
The assault at age 8 - very graphic:
[DLMURL="http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-1.280/"]http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-1.280/[/DLMURL]
[DLMURL="http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-1.280/"][/DLMURL]The date-rape:
[DLMURL="http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-2.325/"]http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-2.325/[/DLMURL]
The pregnancy as a result of the rape, and the loss of my baby:
[DLMURL]http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-3.517/[/DLMURL]
Again, if you recognize me from this story, please keep it under your hat. I need the anonymity of this site to open up and share. Thanks.
Here's the last of the story:
After the terrible experience with Pete (the date-rapist), the pregnancy and losing my baby, I returned to my hometown. I dropped out of college and got a job. At this job, I began training in a specialty, and soon worked my way up. I wound up in a job that people usually go to school 4-6 years to work in. It wound up being my career. I never did return to college.
I continued my destructive dating patterns for a while. Then I had a one-night-stand with an old friend (Ryan), whom I had known since I was a preteen. Somehow it became a two-night thing, then a two-week thing, and so on. We dated for four years.
Ryan was very good for me. Despite the fact that we were not the most compatible couple, we were great friends, and that helped us through the rough patches. I opened up and told him about the rape when I was 8, about Pete, about everything. He helped me to work through my sexual hangups, and learn to enjoy sex, instead of regarding it as an act of power (if I initiated it, then no one could take me against my will, I guess). He also taught me how to work on a relationship, because we did have to really work at it!
Eventually, Ryan and I decided that we just weren't working. We have remained good friends, and he eventually married a lovely, lovely woman that I've known most of my life. She's a perfect match for him, they have three sweet kids, and I'm so happy that they are happy.
After Ryan and I broke up, I began dating again. It was a long series of bad dates, and I got pretty discouraged. I started slipping back into old patterns. I think I was headed toward a bad place again - when fate intervened.
A dear, beloved, blessed friend set me up on a blind date with a friend of her boyfriend. Steven was everything that I had always hoped for in a man. He was kind, generous, thoughtful, considerate, and so careful and gentle with me. Within 2 weeks we were discussing marriage. We married soon after, and have been married for 15 years. In Steven, I found a perfect partner in life. Of course, we still have our moments (who doesn't?), but he's been the best choice I ever made.
We have two lovely little boys, David and Mason, ages 7 and 2. In becoming a mother, I finally found a way to be comfortable in my own skin. "Mama" feels like my REAL name.
Unfortunately, I have unearthed some of my PTSD problems (that I thought I'd resolved years ago) due to my compulsive need to protect my kids. I've always been overly vigilant about them, not willing to leave them with sitters, etc. Then, about a year and a half ago, David was lured by a pedophile in a public place. I interrupted and confronted the monster before he was able to isolate my son, and the guy was so brazen with me. He looked me in the eye, with a little smiling shrug, as if to say, "Oh, well - you caught me!", and walked away before I could alert security. I called the police, but there was nothing they could do - he was gone.
In the aftermath of this experience, my PTSD absolutely exploded. I was constantly on a hair-trigger, obsessively vigilant about my kids' safety, and doubting the decency of everyone I knew. I finally realized that I had to seek help, and with Steven's full support, I began therapy. It made a big difference for me, and the medication I finally decided to take helped even more.
I'm really doing quite well these days. I'm continuing to work on resolving these old issues, but my PTSD has settled down a great deal, and I even hope *fingers crossed* to discontinue medication toward the end of this year.
And as Paul Harvey used to say, "…And that's the rest of the story!"
Here are links to parts 1, 2 & 3 of my story, if you want to know the bad stuff.
The assault at age 8 - very graphic:
[DLMURL="http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-1.280/"]http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-1.280/[/DLMURL]
[DLMURL="http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-1.280/"][/DLMURL]The date-rape:
[DLMURL="http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-2.325/"]http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-2.325/[/DLMURL]
The pregnancy as a result of the rape, and the loss of my baby:
[DLMURL]http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/my-story-part-3.517/[/DLMURL]
Again, if you recognize me from this story, please keep it under your hat. I need the anonymity of this site to open up and share. Thanks.
Here's the last of the story:
After the terrible experience with Pete (the date-rapist), the pregnancy and losing my baby, I returned to my hometown. I dropped out of college and got a job. At this job, I began training in a specialty, and soon worked my way up. I wound up in a job that people usually go to school 4-6 years to work in. It wound up being my career. I never did return to college.
I continued my destructive dating patterns for a while. Then I had a one-night-stand with an old friend (Ryan), whom I had known since I was a preteen. Somehow it became a two-night thing, then a two-week thing, and so on. We dated for four years.
Ryan was very good for me. Despite the fact that we were not the most compatible couple, we were great friends, and that helped us through the rough patches. I opened up and told him about the rape when I was 8, about Pete, about everything. He helped me to work through my sexual hangups, and learn to enjoy sex, instead of regarding it as an act of power (if I initiated it, then no one could take me against my will, I guess). He also taught me how to work on a relationship, because we did have to really work at it!
Eventually, Ryan and I decided that we just weren't working. We have remained good friends, and he eventually married a lovely, lovely woman that I've known most of my life. She's a perfect match for him, they have three sweet kids, and I'm so happy that they are happy.
After Ryan and I broke up, I began dating again. It was a long series of bad dates, and I got pretty discouraged. I started slipping back into old patterns. I think I was headed toward a bad place again - when fate intervened.
A dear, beloved, blessed friend set me up on a blind date with a friend of her boyfriend. Steven was everything that I had always hoped for in a man. He was kind, generous, thoughtful, considerate, and so careful and gentle with me. Within 2 weeks we were discussing marriage. We married soon after, and have been married for 15 years. In Steven, I found a perfect partner in life. Of course, we still have our moments (who doesn't?), but he's been the best choice I ever made.
We have two lovely little boys, David and Mason, ages 7 and 2. In becoming a mother, I finally found a way to be comfortable in my own skin. "Mama" feels like my REAL name.
Unfortunately, I have unearthed some of my PTSD problems (that I thought I'd resolved years ago) due to my compulsive need to protect my kids. I've always been overly vigilant about them, not willing to leave them with sitters, etc. Then, about a year and a half ago, David was lured by a pedophile in a public place. I interrupted and confronted the monster before he was able to isolate my son, and the guy was so brazen with me. He looked me in the eye, with a little smiling shrug, as if to say, "Oh, well - you caught me!", and walked away before I could alert security. I called the police, but there was nothing they could do - he was gone.
In the aftermath of this experience, my PTSD absolutely exploded. I was constantly on a hair-trigger, obsessively vigilant about my kids' safety, and doubting the decency of everyone I knew. I finally realized that I had to seek help, and with Steven's full support, I began therapy. It made a big difference for me, and the medication I finally decided to take helped even more.
I'm really doing quite well these days. I'm continuing to work on resolving these old issues, but my PTSD has settled down a great deal, and I even hope *fingers crossed* to discontinue medication toward the end of this year.
And as Paul Harvey used to say, "…And that's the rest of the story!"
