Question 10 of 10 (Therapy Assignment)

Question Submitted by M.M. 

Q: Where do you see yourself in 10 years.

A: I am going to break this question up it three ways.

1) Where do I want to be in 10 years?

a: I think I want the same thing most people want, I want a good education, and well on my way to a good career. I want to be comfortable enough in my own skin to be in a romantic relationship. I want to see a possibility of children by the time I am 26 and have 1 by age 30 and maybe 1 more by age 34. I choose those ages because I want to still be in my lower 50s when I see my kids become their own adults.

I want a husband that is strong willed, intelligent, and nurturing to our children and me. He needs to realize that happiness and individuality is important, and that a big house and fancy car are just life's perks and not life's goals. He must be willing to understand what me and other survivors has gone through so that he can not only be supportive, but a cornerstone that an unbreakable foundation can be built upon.

2) Where do I think I will be in 10 years?

a: I think I will be sort of in the same position as I am currently in, too scared to face life, too scared to face strangers, and too scared to consider any type of intimacy. I think I am going to be jumping at every sound that I hear behind me and still running to a safe place just because I see a similar van or someone who looks similar to that guy. I think I will try and fail at a career and end up working at some type of position that an automaton could do so that I won't have to think. I can see myself so stressed out that I am forced to enter in a mental health facility so that the courts believe that I will be safe from myself. A part of me longs for an existence in a hospital where I am virtually catatonic and kept in a semi conscious zombie like state with some really strong drugs. I'm not sure that is a fix, well I am reasonably sure it isn't a fix, but I think it would be better than feeling a constant gnawing pain that makes me want to kill myself.

3) Where do I think I am now?

I think I am going through the motions in a foolish attempt to trick myself into thinking that healing is possible. I think I am in hell trying to swim to shore but each sluggish attempt to swim only pushes me further into the burning lava where is can burn my heart and eyes. I think I am pessimistic instead of optimistic and I am at a loss as to how to fix it.

Question 9 (Therapy Assignment)

Question submitted by an anonymous poster.

Q: In light of all this, have you given up completely on the idea of ever having a sexual relationship? And if not, why not?

A: I have never been interested in a sexual relationship, not because I think it is gross or something like that but because I am 16. Now after this happened the thought of any form of sexuality that I am involved in gives me the willies. Even something as simple as kissing would make me uncomfortable. I think kissing would sort of feel gross now because of the fact that it will remind me of what happened to me and at this point in time it is hard to ever assume that I could separate the nasty feeling of that van from any future relations. Does that mean that I am planning on never being in a relationship? Nope. Sometime in the future I want to have at least 1 child and I think I would like to have a husband.

Have I given up on the idea of a sexual relationship? Nope, but I never really had thoughts of a sexual relationship. I think as long as I continue therapy and keep myself surrounded by good supportive people I will eventually be able to handle a sexual relationship, and just maybe view it as something good instead of just a necessary thing for me to be involved in a relationship. The only way it would be off the table is if I can't heal from this.

Fork, 911

Last Thursday wasn't a good day. It wasn't just a day absent of good, but it was a bad day. I guess I should be use to it by now being that all of my days are bad days. I want all of my online support friends to know something, I have been lying to all of you. I'm not really sure why I have been lying. A part of me believes that if I lie to myself enough by telling myself that I am going to get through this I somehow magically will. A part of me is also scared that I will hurt others so I lie. I tell people that I am okay, but even worse than that I pretend that I am okay. I put out this totally fake persona that is literally meant to deceive everyone around me so that they don't know the truth. I will get to the truth later in this post perhaps.

I was sitting at the lunchroom table at school last Thursday next to a few people I get along with. I don't want to call them my friends because that too would be a lie. If I said I had any genuine friends at my new school I would be lying, I only have people I get along with. Everyone else around me was talking and eating their lunch, but I was just staring at the ingredients label on the back of my single serving milk. Like everyday at school I was simply wishing I wasn't there. I kept fumbling with a band-aid that was on my left wrist from where I accidentally burned my wrist on a skillet when I was cooking supper the night before. It wasn't a bad burn by any means, but it was a little tender and felt a little uncomfortable against my sleeve. One of the girls that was sitting at the table with me noticed that I was messing with the band-aid and she asked me, "What happened? Did you try and kill yourself?"

I didn't reply back, I pretended that I didn't hear her. I pulled my sleeve down over the palm of my hand to cover the band-aid hoping that she would just shut-up, but she didn't. She said to everyone else at the table, "Look, Jaime tried to kill herself."

No one at my new school knows what happened to me, so I guess i can assume that everyone's actions are out of ignorance. As soon as she lied and told everyone that I tried to kill myself, some laughed, one wanted to know why I would do that, and another one asked to see my wrist. I don't know why but for some reason I showed everyone my wrist. I guess I thought they would see it's just a band-aid and let it go. The band-aid goes across my wrist, not up and down. The same girl that began the whole ordeal then laughed and said, "Look, Jaime is too stupid to even do it the right way."

I understand that she was just trying to be funny and she had no idea of what I am dealing with, but it just hit me the wrong way. I picked up my half full milk carton and poured it on her notebook that she was studying out of. I then said (verbatim), "Bitch, I know how to kill myself if I want to kill myself. I know to cut my wrist lengthwise so that the bleeding will be harder to stop."

I then opened my purse and pulled out 4 bottles of prescription medication and said, "Even if I didn't have a knife which I have plenty of at home, I could down a few dozen of any combination of these and that might do the trick. If I wanted to be sure that my attempt to kill myself was successful I would jump off the overpass to the interstate and let an 18 wheeler run me over, that would do the trick."

I pulled my sleeve up and ripped the band-aid off my wrist and then asked, "Do you want to see me bleed? You must want to if you think suicide attempts are so funny."

I grabbed my fork off my lunch tray and jammed it against my wrist and dragged it up my arm leaving four bleeding scratch marks about eight inches long. "Is that enough blood for you?"

Again I dragged the fork up my arm making myself bleed even more. I did this five or six times before a teacher grabbed the fork out of my hand and escorted me to the front office.

As you can imagine this caused quite a stir, but it wasn't like I had a knife that could actually cut me. The only thing the fork could do was make scratches that bled a little, not even enough to warrant any medical attention. The school called my dad at work and told him that there was an emergency and that he needed to come to the school right away. The school dean and counselor was treating this as an attempted suicide and they actually called 911. So now there is a policeman standing in front of me, a fireman EMT, and a priest (being that I go to a catholic private school). Dad comes running in the front door just after he ran past a cop car, ambulance, and fire truck in the parking lot. I can only assume that dad assumed the worse walking in. Dad looked confused because he saw that I was okay. Long story short my dad filled them all in on the fact that I am having some emotional issues while I just sat there. He didn't go into detail, he just told them enough so that they knew I was in therapy. They suggested that I leave with dad and talk to my therapist before I return to school.

Thursday's are my normal therapy days so dad and I went home and then left home at 2:30 to take me to my therapy appointment. As you can imagine the things that happened at school became the subject of discussion in therapy. My therapist kept asking me question about how I felt before all of that, how did I feel when that girl made those comments, and how did I fell as I was scratching myself with the fork. The truth is when I was scratching myself with the fork it felt good, the pain felt good. I felt like I deserved the pain and I felt like I was getting what I wanted. I explained that to my therapist and then she asked me, "What are you thinking about as you look back at what happened at school?"

I didn't even think about the answer, I simply blurted out, "It would have worked better if I had a strait razor."

So now everyone at school thinks I am suicidal, my dad thinks I am suicidal, my therapist thinks I am suicidal and has asked my dad to keep a closer eye on me. More than that, I think I am suicidal. That's the truth, but that's not the scary part. The scary part is that the realization that I am suicidal doesn't scare me. Shouldn't it be freaking me out? In all honesty, I am somewhat calmed by the thought of my own death. I also realized something; the only reason why I haven't killed myself is because I don't want to hurt the people who foolishly care about me. I don't care about me, but I do care about others. I just wish I knew a way to convince people what I already know, THAT I AM NOT WORTH CARING ABOUT. If I could convince them of that truth, I could bring my pain to an end, I could cry my last tear, and I could leave those painful memories behind.

I guess I am just being stupid and the douche bag of a busy body whore from school was right. I just wish no one cared about me so I could do what I need to do to end this pain.

Update: March 7th, 2012 - 5:30 pm

Since people think I am going to kill myself or over reacting I just thought I would add this last part.

Just because I am suicidal doesn't mean I am so stupid that I will kill myself.

Question 8 (Therapy Assignment)

Question Submitted By BradDavisDude.

Q: How has this whole tragedy affected your trust in men and do you think you will be able to trust men enough to date again?

A: In general terms it has affected my trust in men, especially at first. I think it is because my assailant happened to be male and because men are nearly always so much more physically stronger than me. It makes me feel vulnerable to be around men. I don't want people to misunderstand me, I don't think all men are dangerous or that all men are willing to rape. I have simply acknowledged that with the vast majority of men, if they made the choice to hurt me, I am physically less able to defend myself because I am not as strong as a man. That realization makes me cautious and I imagine that extra caution will be something that I have for the rest of my life.

A: I think I will be able to date again, but with me it really isn't dating again. I have never really been on a date in the first place. So I guess the question is do I think I will be able to date men in the future. The simple answer to that is yes, however the reality of it is a little different. I think a traditional meet and date scenario is less of a possibility. What I mean by that is that I would not do the whole blind date thing or go on a date with someone that I don't know. There is two exceptions to this rule. If a trusted friend knew this person, or we went on some double dates. Other than that I think I would have to become "REAL" friends with a guy before I was able to trust them enough to go on a date with them where I could potentially feel vulnerable and alone.

Eventually I do want to go on dates, I want to marry, and I want children, but more than that I want to trust myself and others so that those things are possible. Until I learn to trust again, dating is simply impractical. Of course I do have to admit that part of the process of learning to trust again may involve putting myself in situations such as a date where I feel vulnerable so that I can then face my fears. I just know I'm a long way off from there, and I have trouble foreseeing a time when I will be there.