I haven't posted here in ages but....
Nov. 13th, 2005 @ 05:52 pm
This is my latest l.j entry, I'm not trying to say i was raped again, I am giving all the info I know.
oh god where to start... this has deffinately been the wierdest week of my life.
apparently i was raped again, or someone attempted to rape me (get that, twice in two years, i had an half hour arguement with a very patient police officer over the odds of that happning, she insisted it could, I was desperately telling her it could not).
The thing is I don't remember a damn thing. Police found me at 9.15 p.m tuesday night in a "state of undress" on my knees screaming for help, they arrested a male "moving away pulling his trousers up". I was subjected to various intimate medical tests, they cut my hair, scraped under my fingernails, poked about inside me with various cotton buds etc etc, it went on forever. A "crime scene investigator" man came around to photograph my injuries and measure them.
I told them straight up that I thought this was all very fucking ironic. When I was damn sure i had been raped in daylight, stone cold sober they didn't want to know, now i have no idea if anything at all happened to me they wont fuck off.
people keep calling me saying "are you ok?" and creeping about me on eggshells. I know they mean well, but I feel like screaming I'M FUCKING FINE GET IT?????? Although I'm not fine, and I know it. Somewhere locked away in my mind are the events of that night. I am scared, not because it happened, but because one day I might remember what happened.
It's an uneasy feeling that wont go away, I remember how i felt after I was raped, I do not feel that. That is a god send. I feel... like I'm not remembering for a reason, and I'm glad I don't. At the same time, I KNOW that I know, you know? Police call me constantly asking me if I can remember anything yet. "no" i always tell them resolutely. "keep thinking" they tell me. I never keep thinking.
I started pulling my hair out last night in big huge clumps, in front of everyone. I just flipped. I was sat down, my mum popped a ciggerate into my mouth like a thermometer, picked my hair up and looked at it instead of me. I stared at the wall, refusing to keep thinking.
Current Music: Black Eyed Peas- Where Is The Love
back home & back to the memories
I had a best friend in my uncle up till the time i got boobs.. then he became "bad Rick" and the best I could figure was he liked them more than me... i know he would stay over the night sometimes on the front room couch and yeah, I had a thin wall between my room and my parents but I had some very vague INTENSE dreams that will always make me wonder... what do I remember that I don't know about yet? It didn't help that things went to hell in a handbasket that year with the birth of a younger brother that I felt i had to stick around to protect from my mother with postpartum psychosis. well, had to move back in with the family after our "extended honeymoon" in PA died due to Katrina repercussions in the job market. thank god I didn't have to sleep in my bed and a new one that fits us is in my room as I type. i know i couldn't handle sleeping in the same room I've had since high school with it looking exactly the same since I'm too pregnant to move furniture. I know that weight fluctuations bring out the memories.. it's like the layer of fat I layed down when all the shIT hit the fan when I was a teen is poisened by the memories and digging it out makes me remember things nearly physically. ....
This is totally differnet from what I wantd to say to you... I'm just hopping thru random communities looking for a place where I can deal with the emotions of being back home with the parents who didn't believe me until I had sunk into a depresion and now figure that my depression was all related to Bipolar. ummm, no... it's not, some is heavy metal toxicity, some is having parents telling me to calm down every time I experience an emotional verbal comment. (yeah, assumptions piss me off.. maybe i have a reason for that... nahhh.) i never waste time on anything that does not move me personally .. and you move me, hon. If there is anything I can do to help you move away from this point in your life towards real healing, with the ability to find those you can trust and people worthy of your love... Tell me. i am a Psychology BA because I knew I needed to have the skills to understand emotions.. bcuz I could pick up on them... yeah, slightly psi... and your honesty and strength both here and on your journal sorta triggered a response. I hope I don't scare you.. I hope you are willing to believe it when I say- I try to leave healing in my wake.
oh, LJ gave free members 3 new icon spaces, feel free to steal this one. I stole it because somedays what i remembered and my rage at such memories felt exaclty like that icon. "It won't work for me but if I poke at it, it just squashes me flat." also sometimes talking with people just makes me feel the same way... especially if they won't fight for themselves anymore. you do. i admire tht and think you deserve a friend... even if it's a person who is too far away to hurt you. lotta hugs hon... be well.
|Date:||January 10th, 2006 02:49 pm (UTC)|| |
Re: back home & back to the memories
you do not scare me, you intruige me, and you make me feel less alone.
Since this I have done a video statement, which I thought was mad, I was making a statement about an event I didn't remember happining, but somehow the whole thing took nearly three hours to finish.
I was pregnant. That's what I haven't told them. He must of raped me, because I was pregnant. I knew it as soon as a few weeks after, but i didn't prove it to my mum untill just before christmas. My "best friend" found out i was pregnant when i ran to the bathroom in the middle of her birthday meal to throw up. When I came out, she had gone, ditched me. I haven't seen her since and three days later I miscarried and it broke my heart.
That was only 8 days ago and I haven't really been myself since. I have gone back to what I did when I was a child, before my father killed himself, while he was still beating me and my mother. I read. I lie there all day and read at least one book a day. I find myself bursting into tears when the mood around me is high. I haven't gone back to college since the miscarriage. I feel like I don't belong there. Or here.
Sometimes my mum sits me at the table and plonks a meal in front of me, and chats to me. I nod and smile and pick at my food. She is worried that I am going back to my eating disordered behaviour. Maybe I am, I don't know, I don't really seem aware of what I'm doing lately.
Oh none of this makes sense does it?
make sense later- now is hard enough
Actually, it makes perfect sense & I followed it quite well...
I spent a year where all I did was bring a book to school and walk the back wall, away from everyone and anything that made me think. I did homework and I read... that was all.. But then that was 6th grade in a catholic school with a teacher who had no problem yelling at us. I would do my homework in my room crying all the time.. I would clean the bathrooms crying... I did everything I was alone during crying...
It sounds as if you aren't even up to the crying point. In the worst way possible you need to have a doctor or therapist check you out, hon... I KNOW you don't want something that intensive right now but you need to let the cops know (about the miscarriage) and you need to make sure that you get the motivational push FROM OUTSIDE yourself because at this time your internal motivations have been squashed.
I miscarried at 18 and while school did not suffer- I made sure I did. It says something that 'the father' is a person I still consider a good friend. (We broke up a few days before I managed to block out the act of miscarrying. It was only seeing the birth stages book and realising I had actually -seen- a fetus... not only a strange clot was when I realized I had done so.) The person I let woo me the week my ex was recovering from our break up is still at the highest level of my shit list it is possible to get at.
As far as your friend goes.. understand at your age friends are liable to be real idiots... it's just the age.. do not take her personally... usually it's all about not thinking real hard about how actions cause emotional reactions. This is a common problem for lots of people who have never seen the void in their own soul or the horror in daily life. And 18 is not the age for such things.. unless something like what you went through happens. (Heck, that was the year one of my exfriends got pregnant by a recently discovered half-brother. He stayed right at the top of my shit list after I counted back the months from her labor.)
Your mom... have her get you Flintstones Complete and feed you 2 a day. Really, it will do more for you than being bullied through 5 meals a day, 2 including just salad and fruit. You aren't getting odd eating habits, you are still in a state of shock between fight and flight. Until you roll into one or the other your stomach can't decide what, if any, food may help prepare it for the next thing you need to do. It's expectable and she needs someone she can talk to- to figure out how to help you- to figure out how to leave you alone to heal. Also, funny thing is many times deficiencies cause disordered eating behaviour. Let her mother you... she may not know what to say or do... but she wants you healing.
Right now, awareness is not gonna be at the high end of the scale. Go easy on yourself and drop your classes.. you have massive reason that should let you drop without penalty. Let your school know you will be back when you feel more stable. Stability will not happen right away but will come at some point.
Hun, no one feels as if they belong... in so many ways this world makes us realise that we have to fight for our place and that we don't ever really earn it. It's cruel, it's cold and it is the only way you can ever hold the hand of someone you care for. What you have seen of life is very little and only a fraction of what is out there and in so many ways it is worth getting there. okay, cliche... but somehow it's what my heart wanted to hear years ago and only now telling you this filled in a spot that had been bare for a number of years. Reminded me of how hard it was in the short term but in the long-term... what joys... what good.
|Date:||January 11th, 2006 05:22 pm (UTC)|| |
Re: make sense later- now is hard enough
Thankyou, amazing how words from a stranger can ring so true, make so much sense, and comfort me.
I really apreciate you taking the time to write to me. You've truely helped. Thankyou doesn't seem the right word somehow.
Love And Peace *abi*