No Longer a Slave to Fear

TRIGGER WARNING: This blog post contains information about sexual assault which may be triggering to survivors.

There’s no doubt that I am an open book when it comes to my battle with maternal mental illness. Though it has been on my terms and when I’ve been ready to share, when I finally was or am ready to share, I’ve never held back. I’ve shared many details when it’s come to my struggles, my thoughts and my hospitalizations that have come with my postpartum depression and anxiety/OCD. My whole goal is to let other moms know that they are not alone. That there is hope and healing from maternal mental illness. That there is a beautiful, bright light at the end, of a sometimes long and dark tunnel.

But there’s another dark moment in my life that I don’t talk about. I can count on both hands how many people know and almost half are medical professionals sworn to patient confidentiality. It’s been 7 years that I’ve kept it to myself because that’s what most women do. They don’t talk about it. They don’t report it. They pretend it never happened. They stay silent. I’ve stayed silent. Until now…..I am a victim of rape.

I first felt compelled to write about my assault back in October when the audio of Donald Trump and Billy Bush was published. I will never forget the words I heard and I know you know what I’m talking about. I can’t even begin to describe to you the emotions I felt when I heard the recordings. This man, at the time of the release, was running for president and his comments disgusted me. I felt so much anger and disgust for him and the fact that he said it so matter of fact. I wanted to scream from the top of my lungs, “YOU CANT DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!” But I couldn’t speak up. I was ashamed.

For years I hid my shame, guilt and pain because I blamed myself. I’m a strong woman, I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve fought at all. But I didn’t. I froze. It was the scariest and strangest moment for me because it was a complete out of body experience. I was so afraid, yet I couldn’t move. I didn’t say a word. I felt helpless and confused. Why? Because I knew him. I trusted him. And he thought he could do whatever he wanted. At that moment, I felt powerless over my body. Like I had no say. It wasn’t until I was in treatment back in December that I learned more about fight/flight/freeze and how the brain works. I learned that that specific portion of your brain is hard wired to certain responses and until you’re in a certain situation, you won’t know how you’ll react. I cried at that revelation because for the first time, I felt free of fault. I didn’t freeze because I was weak. I froze because that’s how my brain was hard wired. That’s how I protected myself.

I remember after it happening being told excuses for what happened: He got caught up in the moment. He didn’t realize what he was doing. He’s a good person. He made a mistake. And me? I was told if I report it, I run the risk of them looking into my sexual history. My past being thrown in my face. It would potentially throw me out into the wolves. So basically, I should keep quiet. And I regret it to this day. I should’ve never let my past interfere with what was wrongly done to me. I can count on one hand how many men I have been with. Men that I knew. Men that I was in a relationship with. Men that I CHOSE to enter into a sexual relationship with. And I haven’t and won’t apologize for that. Because it was MY decision who I shared MY body with. And 7 years ago, one man destroyed that with a decision he made to do with my body, without permission.

That night has shaped me in a way I can’t explain. It started my journey into anxiety, something I never dealt with before. It made me afraid to trust and afraid to be intimate. I hated him and I hated myself. So I shut myself down emotionally, mentally and physically and vowed I would never let another man EVER take away from me. And then I met my husband. I didn’t want to meet him. I wanted my friend to shut up about this “great friend” she had, because I had baggage. Lots and lots of baggage. But I finally gave in and agreed to meet him and actually show up (I agreed to meet on many occasions, even them being at the place, and I would cancel) just so we could end what wouldn’t begin.

But fate has a funny way of playing out and one date led to another date to another date and to us being exclusive. He was wonderful and perfect and I couldn’t get enough time with him. He made me feel beautiful and strong and most importantly, he made me feel safe. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Over the course of our dating relationship which turned into us buying a home, getting engaged and eventually married, he has been there through the baggage of that night. Nightmares where I would be screaming in my sleep, tossing and turning and him holding me tight until I could relax. He would stay up with me when I was too afraid to shut my eyes. He never pushed for answers, details or information. He was just there. And he still is and I always question why. Why would he stay with me?

I look at myself and I see a broken, bruised and beaten down little girl. A girl who has been diagnosed with clinical depression, acute anxiety disorder, post traumatic stress disorder, postpartum depression, postpartum anxiety and postpartum OCD. A girl who wants to get better but on many days, can’t find the drive, but wants that drive more than anything. It’s a stupid cycle.

And then I look at my beautiful, perfect daughter. Who is a spitting image of her daddy but has my sass and stubbornness. I love her beyond anything I can comprehend and then, at times, I get angry. Angry at the thought that I won’t always be able to protect her from the monsters in this world. That one day, there’s a chance she may have someone take away from her what isn’t theirs. And that our leaders of this country will take away even more of our rights as women and it scares me. I tend to avoid political talk because it is not an area I really care to engage in. But I can’t ignore the ignorance that is going on right now when it comes to my right and my daughters right over our bodies. To know the extent of how our leader objectives women and the extent that he is defended, disgusts me.

While I respect that you exercised your right to vote, I don’t respect your candidate choice. While I understand that what’s done is done, doesn’t mean I have to accept it and listen to it, because I don’t. So please, especially if you personally know me, don’t push your opinions, your thoughts or any attempt to try to put him in a positive light because the only thing you will do, is push me away from you. I am a woman who has my own thoughts, ideas, views and beliefs and I can not be swayed. You have not walked in my shoes, you have not felt my pain, you have not had my thoughts and you have not lived my worst nightmares come true.

The only opinion that matters to me, is of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. He who carried me when I was too weak to walk in my shoes. Who felt my pain. Who knew every thought that was not mine and held me through them. Who was there with me in every nightmare that came true and never once, ever left me alone, even when I felt alone. For 7 years I have been a slave to my pain, my fear, my guilt and my shame. But in the name of Jesus, I am free from my pain. I am free of my fear. I am free of my guilt. I am free of my shame. I am free. I am no longer a victim of rape….I am a survivor.