I know that you feel completely overwhelmed. The current stress associated with your work injury has you spinning. As much as you want to trust the doctors at Concentra, you know that they do not care about injured employees. Instead they care about the corporations who use them to evaluate injured employees. The goal is not to provide top-notch medical care; the goal is to save the insurer money. This unfortunately is the reality of the current situation.
I know that there is another force at play behind the scene. I know that you are dealing with the memories of returning from Germany with physical and mental injuries. As much as you tell yourself that the past cannot hurt you now, you cannot stop the panic that is causing your heart to pound and your body to tense. Fighting the fear is causing you to want to shut off and run away. Fighting the fear is also pushing you to act out of anger; to act hastily. Instead, I implore you to step back for a moment. Take a moment to breathe. Take a moment to believe in your ability to protect yourself in a calm and rational manner. You are smart. You are resourceful. You are your biggest supporter.
Instead of fighting the past, change your focus. Do not dwell on the painful memories of being abandoned; rather, focus on the strength you found to fight back. Focus on the courage it took to demand medical care. Focus on the fact that even while you were somewhat “disconnected” from reality, you found a way to protect yourself.
Believe in yourself. Trust that you will survive once again. You are a warrior. You are a fighter. I love you and I believe in you.
Healing…how many times are we told that we have to forgive the transgressions of others? How many times have we been told that part of healing is letting go? These ideas have lead to shame and unnecessary self-torture.
The above scene from “The Handmaid’s Tale” echoed my own desire for revenge. I saved my rapist’s business card for years. I fantasized on finding him to slowly inflict my vengeance. I wanted to kill him; but even more, I wanted to destroy his sense of normality and safety. I wanted him to feel the same pain that I have felt since that night. I wanted him to beg death to take him because the thought of living another day was too painful. I wanted to ruin his ability to be intimate with another human. I wanted to destroy his life.
Luckily the fear of prison was greater than my desire for revenge. While it took almost a decade, I allowed myself to destroy that business card. While I can never avenge myself, I openly admit that wish him pain. Forgiveness will never an option.
“Holy water cannot help you now. Thousand armies couldn’t keep me out. I don’t want your money. I don’t want your crown. See, I have to burn your kingdom down.”
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This arrangement is dedicated to the Survivors of Sexual Assault
“[Referring to rape] It already is bigger than everything else. It lives in front of me, behind me, next to me, inside me every single day. My schedule is dictated by it, my habits by it, my music by it.” ― Daisy Whitney, Mockingbirds
On April 10, 2003, I awoke to the sound of the shower. Where was I? Why was I naked? What happened?
How could I report “it” when I didn’t even know what “it” was. That evening I told myself that whatever happened was my fault. I had to put “it” behind me and push forward. It was time for me to focus on my Airman Leadership class; once again I would graduate as a “Honor Graduate.” And that’s what I did. I buried “it”deep down inside.
Over the next year, I felt so much anger. I was so pissed off at the world. And I found myself resenting everything about the Air Force. What happened to the overachiever? The perfectionist? Was I giving up on my dream of becoming a commissioned officer? What was wrong with me?
I volunteered for a 45-day deployment to Rhein Maine, Germany. My hope was that I would remember everything that I loved about serving our Nation. Unfortunately, the 45-day deployment turned into a 53-day, psychotic inducing series of events.
Two days into the deployment, a fellow NCO started to flirt with me. As a female in the Armed Force, it wasn’t anything new. “Boys will be boys”, right? The flirting didn’t feel harmless. And I wondered how many times I would have to deny his request to “give me a massage” in my room.
I did not realize at the time but the “harmless” flirting triggered memories I had buried the previous year. 5,300 miles away from safety, I realized that “it” had happened. I realized that “it” had a name: rape. My acknowledging of the rape was significant. Yet it would not be part of the trauma I experienced in Germany.
I am not a victim of sexual assault. I am a survivor. No amount of inner strength erases the questions that I had when I woke up to the sound of the shower. After the rape and as I endured multiple bouts of psychosis, I often wondered, “How could this happen to me?”
I was scheduled to leave Frankfurt, Germany on July 31, 2004. I checked in my luggage and obtained my ticket/boarding pass. The relief I felt as I handed over my boarding pass quickly vanished. Somehow my ticket had been canceled and I would not be allowed to board the plane. Fortunately, I contacted the individual responsible for securing transportation for arriving and departing members. This individual’s name is Jaime. Jaime was able to purchase a ticket to depart the next day and lodging off base. Jaime assured me that he would not get into any trouble and that the MEO (Military Equal Opportunity officer) would protect him. Jaime and another member of the deployment squadron drove me to the lodging without informing anyone else that I was still in Germany. Jaime told me to rest, not to go back on base, and to take the hotel shuttle back to the airport in the morning. I should have listened to him.
I ran back to the base which was a few miles up the road and made my way to Jaime’s room. I needed to ask him one simple question: what was said behind my back about the informal sexual harassment complaint I had filed? I was told that I was seen as a traitor and all I did was complain. I was told that my room and office had been bugged and everything I had said and done would be used to prove that I was mentally unfit. That the goal was to get me kicked out of the Air Force. My heart broke into a million pieces with each word. I thanked Jaime for telling me the truth and left.
I returned to my room with a broken soul. I knew I had not broken any rules or regulations. I knew I followed protocol when I reported the sexual harassment. What did I do wrong? All I knew was that I could not face my family if I was going to be dishonorable discharged from the military. I couldn’t return to my unit and be seen as anything less than an overachiever who loved the Air Force. Betrayal, despair, confusion, and a severe lack of sleep lead me down a very dark road which ended with suicide. I picked up the phone to tell my Mother goodbye one last time. When she answered she was crying. My Mother told me she missed me and just wanted me home. As I put down the phone, I knew I couldn’t end my life.
The next morning, August 1, 2004, I boarded the plane. As the plane ascended, I started to write down everything that happened during my 53-day deployment. The lack of sleep, the betrayal, the fear, confusion, and reliving my experience created the perfect storm. This perfect storm was the switch between sanity and psychosis. As I was leaving behind one nightmare, I did not realize I was slipping into one which would last for two years.
When the lights of Albuquerque became visible, “This War Is Over” started to play in my mind.
Take off my shield Carry my sword I won’t need it anymore Find me a sky Give me my wings Frozen and broken but free
Tell them I’m all right I’m coming home Tell them I’m all right I am alone This war is over I’m coming home
Take off my shame Bury it low I won’t need it anymore Find me the sun Give me it whole Melt all the chains in my soul
Tell them I’m all right I’m coming home Tell them I’m all right I am alone This war is over I’m coming home
Take off my pain Carry me slow I won’t fight here anymore Tell them I’m all right I’m coming home Tell them I’m all right I am alone This war is over I’m coming home
I will never be able to make sense of what happened in Germany. I will never be able to forget the torment and fear that is called psychosis. I will never be able to forget the shame I felt when I was denied re-enlistment. But I will also never forget that somehow in all of the confusion, I found the strength to fight for a medical retirement. I found the strength to ask for help when the psychosis was too much to handle on my own. I know that strength started the moment my Mother told me to come home. And the strength continued with the love and support of my Parents and family, my friend Mark, Theresa, and La-Tressa, and so many other amazing people. I am so grateful that I found the strength to keep living.
Today as I got dressed for work, my mind wandered to the past. I wondered if I would be able to work safely or if I would be filled with anxiety all day.
Part of me wanted to stay home and give into the anxiety. I took my time getting ready and allowed myself to reflect on the significance of today’s date.
My life was altered forever on this date in 2003. I will never be able to remember the details of the rape due to being drugged. I will never be able to fill in the gaps of time. I will never be able to process the evening. I wonder is it better that the night is a blur or does it hinder my ability to heal.
All I know is that I didn’t do anything to provoke my colleague to take my body when I was unable to fight back. I didn’t ask to be raped. I wasn’t given a chance to fight back. I was completely helpless as he forced himself on me.
For many years, I blamed myself for drinking with strangers. I blamed myself when I couldn’t remember anything past my first drink. I blamed myself when I found my way back to safety. I blamed myself when I denied that I had just been raped. I told myself that no one would believe me. I tried to push the rape out of my mind and pretend that it never happened.
It happened. I may not recall all the details. I do remember wanting to scream as he undressed me. I do remember waking up without clothes. I do remember leaving the room and not knowing who “he” was that had just raped me.
I felt shame for not reporting the incident. At the time, it was the only way I could survive. It took years for me to admit that I was raped. It took years to realize that I wasn’t a victim. I am a survivor of rape. I am a testimony to the strength of the human spirit to overcome trauma. I am greater than my past.
Sharing And Surviving 