Once upon a time...

[Genuwine]

Oh PTSD
How I loathe you so
Just when I feel fine
You trigger a death dealing blow!

You make me relive
The ghosts of my past
Which cause such deep pain
And sorrow so vast

Darkness encircles
And fear grips my bones
I can't take much more
Just leave me alone!

But you will not win
I'm determined to fight
My darkness will turn
Into beautiful light

 

[Genuwine]

Once upon a time there was a man and a woman walking together outside. It was a cool crisp fall evening, with leaves layered all over the ground. To an outside observer the scene was calm and eerily silent. The woman was naked; part of the humiliation. She was afraid, almost desperately so, but her panic never showed. He was in control, not just of her, but in control of himself. He was calm, cool and collected. He moved with calculated precision. She knew she couldn't fight him, so she didn't even try. In fact, it may not have even occurred to her to try. He firmly but gently pushed her down to the ground. I didn't see how he tortured her once she was on the ground but, I knew it was inhumanly horrible and extremely painful.

This is dream I recently had. This dream so perfectly reflects my sexual trauma history. When I was raped as a child and later a teen, there was no struggle. The only struggle or panic that occurred was inside of me, as I screamed in silence. They however, were both calm, cool and collected. It was slow and deliberate, not quick and passionate. In those moments, it was as if they weren't even real people, like they shut that part of them down. They were in control, not just of me, but in control of themselves as they calmly placed me where they wanted, in the position they wanted, to do what they wanted. Then in eerie silence, I endured their torture.

 

[Genuwine]

I need...help.
I need...perspective.
I need...compassion. (Although I don’t feel I deserve it.)
I need...forgiveness.

I am struggling. I had EMDR a week ago. Right now we are working on my CSA in EMDR. Of course, the EMDR in and of itself was awful. My brain did was my therapist called “brain flooding.” It made me relive that childhood rape over and over again throughout the session. No other memories, just the actual rape. She said she thinks my brain was trying to desensitize myself to the trauma. As awful as it was, that’s exactly what happened because the last time I “viewed” it during the EMDR session it was not as intense as the first time. (Yay for small victories?)

As odd as it sounds, I am not struggling with my CSA at the moment. I’m struggling with a memory from my teenage rape. My therapist told me once that while working on one particular trauma during EMDR, our brains can chip away at another trauma simultaneously. It appears this is happening to me. I find it odd that the whole appointment had to do with being raped as a child and yet here I sit agonizing over what happened to me as a teen. Agonizing to the point that my stomach hurts. So I have to let this out.

What am I agonizing over? Shame, blame and the ugly truth. I have always blamed myself for what happened as a teen. It’s a work in progress as I slowly challenge what I believe. I saw an exercise from a book called The Courage To Heal. (For the record I do not have the book, never read it. Just saw the exercise posted on another site and figured I’d give it a try.) I’m going to attempt to try the exercise here. It asks that you write down why you believe the rape was your fault and then challenge that belief with why it wasn’t your fault. Sigh...here it goes!


My fault...
1. It was really my fault because I went to the party even when my gut said not to.

2. It was really my fault because I went into the room with him alone.

3. It was really my fault because I didn’t push him away.

Not my fault...
1. It was not really my fault because I chose to trust him. I did not know what he was planning. He promised nothing bad was going to happen when I expressed my hesitation about attending the party. He begged me to come. He said the party wouldn’t be the same without me. (Yuk, now I know why.)

2. It was not really my fault because I only went in the room with him because he agreed to the rule I put in place of kissing only. He broke the rule. He lied.

3. It was not really my fault because I was in shock and I froze. I wanted to push him away, but my body wouldn’t move. I knew he was stronger than me. I was afraid.



So here’s the deal. I’m happy to say that the above mentioned reasons to blame myself are reasons I no longer believe. I used to believe them, but with a lot of help and hard work I have successfully replaced those beliefs with the “not my fault” beliefs. What I’m about to write below, is what I’m struggling with. The 5th one in particular is tearing me apart...gosh my stomach hurts!


My fault...
4. It was really my fault because I didn’t say no.

5. It was really my fault because...(gasp! here it goes...) I pushed down my underwear further when I could have pulled them up. (I’m such an idiot!) I remember after he pulled my pants down, I looked down to try and see what he was about to do next. I noticed my underwear was high up around my legs and do you know what I thought?! I thought, oh my god what if he smells my odour from my pantyliner?! Why the hell would I care about that when I was horrified by what he was about to do next?! As I bent over to push them down further, for a brief moment I had clarity. I thought, wait a minute, why not pull them up and end this whole thing? But, I didn’t. Instead, I pushed them down further. I gave him the wrong impression. Wouldn’t doing that be a green light for him to proceed? I hate myself for this! How dare I call it a rape! I don’t know how to get over this one.

Not my fault...Ok...
4. It was not really my fault because I was in shock when he started taking my pants off. I was under the impression we’d only be kissing because he agreed to that rule. I froze and could not speak even though I wanted to. I tried to scream but nothing came out of my mouth. I did eventually squeak out a no twice after he pushed my head down twice trying to get me to “return the favour” and perform oral sex on him. That’s when he finally backed off. (This gets to me because if I only had the courage to say no in the first place none of it may have happened. After all, he did back off after I finally said no, right? Too little too late? So my fault?) Ugh...let me try this again...

4. It was not really my fault because I was in shock when he started taking my pants off. He ignored the “kissing only” rule. Freezing is a genuine response to trauma. I did not have control over my body at that point. I tried to scream, but nothing came out of my mouth. I wanted to push him away, but my body wouldn’t move. Instead I cried and prayed for it to end. (Why on earth I could manage to say no later on and not from the beginning, I’ll never know. How do I forgive myself for that?)

And finally...
5. It was not really my fault because I was afraid. I was afraid he’d get upset if I pulled my underwear up. I was afraid he’d continue despite any attempt to stop him. It felt like the safer choice at the time. (This one still kills me. I don’t believe any of what I just wrote. What I wrote is true, but it’s not a good enough reason for me. What the heck was my problem?! And why the heck would I care about the odour thing? I remember thinking at one point, if I try to stop him and he continues, I know what that is. I’d rather just pretend it’s mutual. I couldn’t bear the thought of being sexually assaulted. Gotta love the irony!)


Well I feel sick. I hate myself. I feel so ashamed. I need some perspective here. So if you’re reading this, feel free to chime in. And don’t hold back...if you wanna tell me to suck it up buttercup because that’s not a rape and it is your fault for misleading him, go ahead. It’s practically what I believe anyways. I don’t deserve to suffer from flashbacks after the choices I made that night! (Does that sentence even make sense?) How do I forgive myself for this?

Oh, the inner struggle!!

 

[Genuwine]

Well that was a bit of a nightmare! I can barely read through my last post.

Time to take a deep breath! The ugliness is over...for now.

I feel like I can breath again. Hubby helped me put things into perspective. I’m not 100% THERE yet but, I am one step closer and that’s something! I was a mess when talking to him; blubbering like a baby! It’s been tough since my PTSD diagnosis. We had such a peaceful life and marriage until, BAM! A nasty trigger sent me spiraling and everything came flooding back to me. I can’t imagine how horrible it is to live with me. I try to spare him my anguish when I can but, he tells me he likes knowing where my head is at. So I apologized for being such a mess this past year. He doesn’t deserve having to deal with my baggage. He just embraced me and said, “till death do us part baby. This is what it’s all about.” God I love that man!

The other night I tucked my little one into bed while my head was spinning with thoughts of anger over how much I’ve been taken advantage of. I gave him a little butterfly kiss, nose to nose, and told him I loved him. He looked at me with this big facetious grin on his face and then proudly announced, “I just farted!” I couldn’t help but laugh. In that moment the ugliness of the world just melted away.

Well, life isn’t so terrible after all! It’s these moments that bring me peace and help me to keep going. I treasure them more than I ever did before. So if the nastiness of trauma can help me to appreciate the good in my life, then I suppose it’s not all for nothing.

 

[Genuwine]

Ok. Long story short, I recently did another session of EMDR. Holy connections Batman!

My brain recovered a piece of memory I had forgotten from my teen rape. I actually did say no! How could I forget that?! It baffles me!

When we were in the laundry room he took my hand to lead me somewhere. I pulled back and let go and asked him what he was doing. He held out his hand and said, “Come on. I’ll show you.” I hesitantly took his hand but had no clue he could even take me anywhere as I thought it was a closed room, with only the door we came in through initially. He took me through a passage that lead to the furnace room. (How did he know about this and not me? This was probably the first time he had been in that house whereas I had practically lived in this house babysitting the younger children that lived there.) While walking through the passage I pulled back again. He pulled me forward. When I entered the furnace room I stopped dead in my tracks. It was so dark. This didn’t feel right. Something was wrong. I asked again what he was doing. He just motioned with his hand and told me to come over to him. That’s when I said no! I demanded an explanation. Instead, he continued to deflect my questions. He walked up to me, gently grabbed me by the arms and placed me against the wall. I panicked. I felt trapped. I froze. The rest is history!

I am amazed that I could’ve forgotten that I said no! What an important piece of information to forget! I know later I’ll be angry at him because he had the audacity to grab me and put me against a wall (albeit gently) after I told him no while asking him about his intentions. But right now, I don’t care! I’m just so happy I said no! Sounds silly but I’m actually proud of myself!

I’m not gonna get into every nitty gritty detail of the assault. But, my brain did make a connection after EMDR with the underwear thing. You see, I was already being abused by Sgt. Rambo when this happened. He used to sexually abuse me too. I learned the hard way not to stop him; he would get more violent.

In EMDR, I remembered how I reasoned during the assault. When I came to the realization that I could pull up my underwear and stop him, I first tried to play out all possible scenarios in my head to make sure it was safe to do so. (Yes in a nanosecond that felt like an eternity!) I did this because that’s what I would do when Sgt. Rambo was angry with me. I would weigh out all the options. Sometimes I could run. But I only did so if I knew I could get away. Once I tried to fight him...it didn’t work, he just threw me into a wall and knocked the wind out of me. Most of the time, it was safer to “take it,” whatever “it” happened to be at the time. So I believe this trauma history (and the fact that it was still ongoing) played a huge role in the way I reacted at that party. I couldn’t predict how Sir Duplicity would react. (That’s what I call the “friend” from the party who raped me.) I guess my brain decided it was safer to “take it.” It’s still a tough pill to swallow. But understanding why I reacted the way I did, is the first step to forgiveness. I’ll get there. I can feel it!

I’m so grateful for EMDR. It’s working!