Journal Entry: Feb 23, 2016 (I Got Schooled)

Journal Entry: Feb 23, 2016 (I Got Schooled)

Journal Entry: Feb 23, 2016 (I Got Schooled)

Brushed Teeth: Yes
Walked: Yes, 54 min 2.73 miles
Healthy Breakfast: Yes
Shower: Yes
Mood: Determined and depressed (such conflicting emotions)

I done got schooled at PT today. First off I shouldn’t be stressing about working my lower abs because you can’t single out your lower abs, it’s one muscle (rectus abdominis). You can’t work part of a muscle. He assured me that the crunches, side crunches and bridges he assigned were enough. I then asked him if the leg workout he gave me (squats with calf raise) was enough because I had been doing a lot more. He said yes and to never do the single leg raise it’s a bad exercise. I told him I would love to work smarter, I don’t want to be working out in ways that aren’t going to help me lose weight. He could see that I was itching to do more so he took me out to the gym.

He taught me 3 different types of workouts that were quick and effective; tabata, 5x5x5, and 50s. Tabata is a simple interval training system. You do 20 seconds of an exercise (today we did squats with calf raise) as hard as you can and then rest for 10 seconds. You repeat that 8 times and then you are done. It works your muscles and raises your heart rate. It’s awesome. 5x5x5 we did with push-ups and it was not easy. You do 5 reps very slowly, 5 very fast, and 5 at your regular pace with no break in between. It was very hard. The last one 50s is also a pretty simple concept. You do 50 reps of an exercise no matter how many sets it takes. So do as many as you can or 15 whichever comes first then repeat until you’ve done 50 reps. I think this would have been harder if I had been using heavier weights but, it was still a good workout. Read more

Journal Entry: Feb 10, 2016 (EMDR Session) [trigger warning: rape]

Journal Entry: Feb 10, 2016 (EMDR Session) [trigger warning: rape]

Journal Entry: Feb 10, 2016 (EMDR Session) [trigger warning: rape]

Brushed Teeth: Yes
Walked: Yes, 42 min 2.16 miles
Healthy Breakfast: Yes
Shower: 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.

Another Fun Corporate Outing (trigger warning: rape)

Another Fun Corporate Outing (trigger warning: rape)

Another Fun Corporate Outing

Imagine you’re a man, the manager of a young girl.

Your boss and bosses boss say, “let’s take her out for drinks.”

Your bosses boss is clearly flirting with this girl who you see every day.

Your bosses boss is clearly trying to get her drunk.

Your bosses boss announces the company is paying for hotel rooms all around.

You know this is a shady scene.

On the way to the hotel rooms this sweet girl who is falling down drunk asks you and your boss for help.

She is clearly not on board with joining your bosses boss in his hotel room.

What do you do? Do you think about how wrong this is but, decide to do nothing for the sake of your job?

Are you OK with this situation? The girl drank all the drinks your bosses boss bought her after all.

When in the end you laugh it off rather than do anything to help this poor girl, does it haunt you?

Do you have nightmares about that moment?

Do you worry about your own Daughter or Sister and hope that if they’re ever in that position help will be given when it is asked for?

Do you remember my face?

Or have you just forgotten it completely as another fun corporate outing?

 

Why I Have PTSD: part III (trigger warning: rape)

Why I Have PTSD: part III (trigger warning: rape)

PTSD 2 3

This is going to be a very graphic retelling of my many rapes. Why am I so rapable? Well, I’m not quite sure. It could be because I was very promiscuous from a very young age. I can’t remember the names of everyone I’ve slept with, I don’t even have a number range and I’m ashamed of that. Here I am slut shaming myself when I would never dare think of doing that to another woman. I think it’s demeaning and wrong and what a woman does with her own body is her business but, when it comes to myself I honestly think maybe I’ve been raped so often because I had a sort of scarlet letter on my chest that was only visible to creeps. I have always had low self esteem and been slightly needy, maybe that was the thing that put the target on my back or another part of my anatomy? I can’t tell you why I’ve been raped so often or why I never pressed charges or even fought or screamed, all I can do is tell you my tales and how they still affect me to this day.

I was always starved for attention. My Father at a very young age made it clear, unintentionally, that I would never be good enough and my Mother made me feel like a burden. They were both struggling with their own mental health issues though my Mother would never admit it. I began to get very sexually curious around age 13 or so after finding pornography in the basement. I had also stopped looking quite so gangly and I had grown into my teeth. When I started getting attention from boys I was thrilled. I saw every “boyfriend” as a chance to have a real relationship and connection with someone. The boys unfortunately did not have that in mind. Read more

Anxious Meditation

Anxious Meditation

Anxious Meditation

Inhale                                 Exhale

Focus only on your breath.

Inhale                                Exhale

Clear your mind.

Inhale                                Exhale

But, if my mind is empty what will drown out those thoughts?

Inhale                       Exhale

The thoughts that bring me right back to the worst moments of my life.

Inhale              Exhale

The many men I’ve known, not all by choice,

Inhale       Exhale

And how I asked for help that night.

Inhale   Exhale

Words uttered in a police station by someone I love,

Inhale
Exhale

It hurts to remember.

Inhale
Exhale

So much for relaxation.

Inhale
Exhale

Now to learn to breathe again.

The Night Before She Quit (Trigger Warning: Rape)

The Night Before She Quit (Trigger Warning: Rape)

The Night Before She Quit

Sleazy VP 20 years her senior,
buying her drinks all night,
of course he expects something.

She asks for help from his subordinates, her bosses,
but they only chuckle at the silly, drunk girl they employ.

He gets what he wants.

Where to Start? Not at the Beginning.

Where to Start? Not at the Beginning.

As a Doctor Who fan I know that time is not a strict progression of cause to effect so starting at the beginning would be silly and it would take a long time to get to any real events of consequence. No I think the better option is to make this post my mission statement of sorts as well as a getting to know you, ice breaker post. I have been told time and again that I’m a great writer but, thanks to my very low self esteem, I often think people are saying this to be nice. I don’t think I’m a terrible writer though so I thought blogging along with my twitter feed @RealismBites would be a good way to get my story out there and hopefully cause many people to say, “I’m not the only one!”

So that is the basis of my mission statement. It is to help those who need to know or be reminded (as I often do) that depression is as real as a broken leg. That you aren’t the only one who finds daily things, that others seem to do without thinking, extraordinarily difficult. That it isn’t out of the realm of possibility that you might be extremely lonely and yet cancel every set of plans because you want to be alone simultaneously. That you had a severe panic attack when you heard about the most recent mass shooting. That hearing your neighbors argue gave you a PTSD flashback to feeling exactly like you did that time your ex husband wouldn’t let you leave the bedroom until you agreed to have a drink with him and yelled for hours about you judging him. That it is impossible to watch a rape scene partly because it is a horrific thing for anyone to go through but, also because you wish you had been as strong as the women fighting and clawing and screaming at their attackers. That it isn’t abnormal for you to be able to binge watch Jessica Jones but be incapable of concentrating in a 30 minute meeting. That people do not often go out of their way to be so nice as to make much effort or in my case to promote you as my therapist has assured me many times.
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