Living daily

I went into psychotherapy after the rape & was convinced that I had completed enough therapy to get through my life.  But, gradually over the past couple of months, I find myself again withdrawing from society and having panic attacks when I think about going out or attending church.  I am weeping more often again and withdrawing from family and friends. Numbness. Failure. I am relapsing.  I have to figure out why. I have to ask Jesus why, again.

I don't have problems with conversations regarding the weather or other news. I can pretend well. It's a gift.   I don't want my children to know when I am having a really hard time, so I keep a smile on my face or I just delve into another project.  At work, I also have to put forth a different persona. Why?  When you are a leader at work, people judge your decision making and mental health. 

When you step out and tell people, even your boss, about sexual assualt and violent crime, it is out there for everyone. For instance people in our society think, "Why did she make that decision or does it really make sense for her to be in a place of leadership at all?"  After all, she suffered through "that thing" and she cannot possibly be normal ever again.  And please don't tell me I am paranoid because I have been approached and asked about these things.  Add on top of that, my complicated migraines, and life just gets more "out of control" and doctors and friends suggest that I should go on permanent disability.

I know that I have to go back into therapy.  I feel frightened most of the time or I just want to be left alone. The evil man who attacked me is still out there, walking loose amongst us. 

I made myself a long necklace with a big cross and tiny hearts & leaf charms attached.  It is meant to remind me of one of my favorite songs by Mercy Me. 

My heart will fly

Why this happened I cannot explain

Why write the script with such heartache and pain?

Could there not have been an easier way?

Watching life through this glass so faded

I cannot see the bigger picture taking place

Oh to understand one day

And my heart will fly

When I finally see you face to face

And my tears will fly

Away, away

Won't be long 'til we all go home

With all things revealed

And on that day we'll finally know

Oh as we are finally known

And what appears as incomplete

Is still completely Yours

And one day we'll see

As we've been seen

And we'll SOAR

And my heart will fly

When I finally see you face to face

And my tears will fly

Away, away

And my heart will fly

And my heart. . .

Many months later......

I have made the decision to make my new blog public.  The one I wrote last September.  Don't read it unless you decide that your life will change.  That will be because if you know me, well you will know that I NEVER questioned God as the foundation in my life.  That is until everything was turned upside down/inside out. Don't read it unless you can handle extreme truth.  And prepare yourself to think differently about me.  I now carry an emotional, dirty little sign around.

If you read the blog from last year, you will understand why I shut down my life and my facebook account.  Why I torn down all of my happy Mary Engelbreit pictures.  Why I ate Krispy Kreme Donuts constantly and gained (and lost) about 20 pounds. Why my family will never be the same.  We moved, we escaped as best we could. 

I have gone through tons of therapy and most of what happened has been stored in different places of my brain.  I don't live it or dream about it anymore. I am back to normal, except for my faith.  I am having to build my faith in God again.  The way I built it as a child, brick by brick, by memorizing hymns and songs and singing them constantly to myself.  Lately, I have been able to sing again.  Since the "incident" I have been listening to Lady Gaga,  Pink, Imenim, Lady Antebellum.  If you know me you will think, "what is wrong with this woman!"  Lady Gaga?  What happened to Marcy Me and U2?  I am getting there.  They are from a past life and I feel nauseous when thinking back that far. 

I was so arrogant and thought I knew what trauma was.

Now, I live day-to-day and hour-by-hour.  Life has been this way for me for years due to my medical history, but now it is even more "in the moment" and not thinking about what is for dinner tomorrow.  I don't even know what is for dinner tonight! 

a simple question - why, why, why?

written 9/18/2010...posted 9/20/10

My life has always been full of questions, as most human lives are.  Childhood & teenage questions, marriage and all of the complications two people face together, grieving with death of friends & relatives & miscarriages, severe & constant medical issues, living through strokes and what seems like a million migraines, raising children to respect others.  Some questions are answered, but to other questions I scream WHY?!!  I am only 51, but I feel that I have seen and felt such hideous evil, that I can barely keep my sanity.  If you don't agree with me, read further.

Because I am a woman, I feel that I can only speak for women. So I say this: One of the only things worse than losing a child, is being raped.  Add to that, being brutally raped, and you have hit the lowest point of maintaining dignity and sanity.  As when I grieved over a serious miscarriage, no one knows how to talk to me, no one knows the internal and external trauma that I bear. Everything has lost meaning.  After two months, I am really no closer to healing internally.  I have to pretend to be sane each day because I have a family, and a job that supports my family.  I have learned to suppress who I really am and have invented a woman who focuses on the moment and not the dark, dark evil that eats her alive.

I have closed my other blog and quit Facebook because they existed in another lifetime.  I do not know the reason that I feel the need to make this blog public to my friends and family...except for the need that they need to know that I am not strong.  I am not positive (except for pretending), I am not happy. I am grasping at imaginary ropes each day to keep from drowning. The Susan that lived at 11:18 am on July 26, 2010 no longer exists.  That personality sadly died and a new one was born around 11:25 am, July 26,2010.  The old Susan believed in God and had a basic trust in humanity. The new Susan does not pray, does not read the Bible, does not sing, does not feel loved, and will never, ever be the old Susan again.  

I will write what happened in this posting only, but then concentrate on my quest for answers. What I say here should not be read by anyone who really cannot stomach violence and pure hatred.  But I have decided to share my story and not to be so private about what happened. Some generations will judge me for making it public, but I feel the need to share, even if it is humiliating and painful. Some of you, who may subscribe to my blog, will then be there with me through the experience of trying to find answers to my questions. So, henceforth the story comes.

On a hot & sunny Monday morning, dated July 26, 2010, I awoke with a fever of 101 and decided to stay home from work.  Tony went to work, Elliott was in bed & Ellen had stayed the night at her friends upstairs to babysit that early morning.  Elliott slept soundly with a fan that sounded like an airplane.  Ellen came downstairs and knocked on the door about 11:00 am.  She had the little girl she was babysitting on her shoulders.  They played with our cat and got a cookie.  Ellen said she would be home in about 10-15 minutes and asked that I leave the door unlocked because she didn't have her key.  I told her I would be in the shower.

I took a quick shower, put on some clean clothes and went to the living room.  I was sitting on the edge of the couch when the door opened.  I thought it was Ellen and didn't even look up for a split second.  The door closed and a man stood there and screamed at me, "Oh, you stupid bitch! You are the wrong one!"  I jumped up and tried get away but he grabbed me and knocked me out by hitting the back of my head.  I soon awoke on my back with plastic stuffed in my mouth.  He continued to curse over and over.  I could not tell what he looked like because he had on a hooded sweatshirt (weird because it was hot) and his shirt pulled over his nose.  My glasses had also been knocked off.  He attacked me sexually and was not pleased with the results.  He went out of my sight for a few seconds and returned.  To my horror, he then attacked me sexually with a knife.  I remember thinking that if I stayed quiet maybe he would not kill me AND maybe, just maybe Elliott would not wake up and come out of his room. 

The unknown male cursed again and then left, leaving the front door wide open.  I won't detail what happened the rest of that horrible, pitiful day, except to say that I went by ambulance to the hospital and made myself endure more unbearable & unthinkable acts to document what had happened.

Believe me, these few moments of absolute terror constantly go through my mind, over and over and over. Speaking of this crime makes me physically ill.  It is day #45.