Brushed Teeth: Yes
Walked: Yes, 42 min 2.16 miles
Healthy Breakfast: Yes
No Dunks or Starbucks: Yes
Mood: Good, frustrated, blah, not quite dreadful though
I woke up too late to go to the gym before driving my daughter so I took my meds and brushed my teeth and sat waiting, bored out of my mind, for her to be ready to go so I could hit the gym after I dropped her off at school. Turns out she gets a ride from a friend on Wednesdays. This has happened before but, I didn’t know it was a regular thing. Now I know and knowing is half the battle, GI Joe! So I got to the gym much later than I’d like but, I had a good workout followed by a good breakfast. I don’t really know what I did while waiting to go to therapy at noon. I should try to write these that night rather than the day after from now on.
I got to therapy and my therapist told me she read my piece The Dread and is always worried about me. She said she is still really thinking it would be good for me to go inpatient to be able to tweak my meds in a controlled environment until we get them right. I am very against this idea. I told her I feel like I’m not depressed and yet more depressed than ever. Not depressed because I’m able to get stuff done (exercising, showering, eating right) which is usually a big problem for me when I am depressed but, more depressed than ever because the dread is the worst I’ve ever felt. We moved onto the point of the session though which was to get some EMDR in to help me get over some of the traumas I have been repressing. (If you would like to know more about EMDR click here.)
We decided to start with my rapes. We chose the one that upset me the most which is the one with the VP (see all of my mentions of my rapes here). I didn’t feel anything during our session but, I processed a lot intellectually. I realized how angry I am at myself for not saying no after the third or fourth drink he bought me, for not removing his hand from the small of my back while we were all still drinking at the bar, for not coming up with some clever excuse to get out of there, for not fighting/screaming/scratching him, and for not pressing charges. I am so angry at myself and yet if my friend or even a stranger told me this story I would admonish her for blaming herself for any of it. I would get so angry at the men that were strangers to me and I would spit venomously about what monsters they are and how she shouldn’t even think for one second that she had any part in it. Yet I can’t show myself that same compassion and understanding.
We broke a lot of it down and I realize how silly it is for me to think I should have known what to do as a 24 year old woman who just got this job at this company that was so fancy it was paying for us to have drinks to celebrate and providing us with hotel rooms so that we wouldn’t have to drive home drunk. I mean I was movin’ on up. This was the big time. I was hobnobbing with the VP and the District Manager and my Manager and I was a clerical worker. I was one of the guys. It felt great and then suddenly it got creepy and I just didn’t know how to go from cool chick to, “get your hands off me!” in the middle of a crowded bar. I realize now I could have played it funny like, “whoooa there…” and laughingly moved his hand off my back. I didn’t have to flip out I could have handled it smoothly but I don’t know that 24 year old me who had no clue what her alcohol tolerance was anymore and who had been bought an insane amount of liquor could have pulled that off. So I shouldn’t be angry at myself for that. I shouldn’t be angry at myself for not scratching his eyes out because I was married to a rapist and got used to just letting it happen, it would be over in a minute, the first go never lasts that long. Not to say I didn’t say no, I did but, I didn’t physically fight and I wish I had but, I think it was that learned behavior that took over and may have saved my life. My therapist said that sometimes if you scream the attacker will get violent in a panic.
I still feel guilty for not pressing charges but, I did quit because I was raped. I mean I told them in tears I can’t come in today because the VP raped me last night. He called me and begged for his wife and children’s sake to not report him. He was in such a panic I hope that I put the fear of God in him and he decided to never do anything like that again. I responded that I just never wanted to see his face again. I still wish I had reported it but, even then I had this disgusting need to protect men. Should I take away his livelihood? What would happen to his wife and kids? Then there was the fear of a trial. I was terrified of the slut-shaming that would ensue. I was terrified that his buddies who just 24 hours prior I considered my buddies too would say that I was all over him or something. I just couldn’t handle a trial I was blank and broken and didn’t know what to do. So why am I still angry at myself? I know, as I’ve pointed out, that I rationally have no reason to be angry with myself and yet I am. I can’t forgive myself for letting this happen so many times. That’s what I need to work on. I hope next week we’ll get to that. Maybe we can tap into whatever repressed emotions or guilt I have and process them right out of my head.
Something else that is very personal and possibly TMI, I do try to be as raw and open as possible, have any of you who are victims of rape felt an almost pleasurable sensation in…well down South…when telling your story? I did while doing the EMDR and talking it through even though I was angry and disgusted as I spoke and it weirded me out but, my therapist said that can happen. I understand if you don’t want to share such an intimate detail but, I’d love to hear from you if you feel comfortable sharing just to know that I’m not alone. I’m sorry for such a dark and heavy post today. I hope you are well or on your way to wellness.