Return To Therapy - And A Memory Of A Bad Day

Sometimes things don't seem real. It feels like my life is a dream that I am unable to awake from. A dream that is keeping me trapped and held prisoner in my own angry, painful, tearful, and never ending sludge of a memory. I am really scared and I have no idea what I should do to feel better. I have tried everything but nothing works.

I started seeing my therapist again on Thursday. Although I know that she isn't judging me in a negative way because I stopped seeing her for 4 weeks, I still feel like she sees me as a failure. Of course I am smart enough to know that it isn't her that sees me that way, it is me. The way I am feeling is the epitome of a double standard in that I would never think that another survivor is a failure if they were in my exact shoes. So why do I KNOWINGLY judge myself so egregiously incorrect? If someone who was in my shoes told me that they feel like a failure I would tell them that there is so much empirical proof that shows them to be an amazing success, but when it comes to telling myself the same things I REFUSE to accept it.

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.

I Unplugged For A Few Hours

I was in a really bad mood yesterday. It started right before I went to sleep the night before. I don't have any idea what triggered it because 2 days ago I was in a pretty good mood all day long. Yesterday I woke up all pissed off, not at anything in particular. I felt like I was on the edge of sanity and just one small step away from blowing up.

As some of you may know I started a part time job this week. I only worked 12 hours this week which is okay but I want to work at least 20 hours so I can more easily afford the expenses that come with having a car. Work is pretty easy but there's one thing that bothers me about the job. I think this is one of the things that bothered me so much yesterday. I want to give some quick background so you can see what I'm talking about and where I'm coming from.

I am slightly claustrophobic, always have been. The guy who hurt me held me captive in his van for a 23 hour period of time. The van was similar to a delivery van that you would see UPS or a bread truck using. The inside of it was roughly 7 feet high (just a little shorter than the ceiling in a typical home), about 7 feet wide, and 12 feet long. That's not an extraordinarily tight space but for someone who has a fear or even a slight fear of small spaces it was very unsettling. This isn't even taking into account all the stuff that happened to me in that small space or the fact that I was often blindfolded which made the space seem even smaller.

At the grocery store I work at there's a walk in freezer that just happens to be near the same size as the inside of the van. It bothers me a little to be in there but I know I am safe so it's not too big of a deal. Well, this freezer is designed so that they can be opened from the outside or the inside. All walk in freezer built after a certain year has a safety mechanism which keeps the seal around the door from freezing and trapping someone inside. The manager made me aware of this and has even temporarily placed a handheld radio (walkie-talkie) inside of it just in case someone get's trapped so they can call the manager or someone to help them get out. Being that I hate small spaces and the freezer similarities to the van, I always use something to prop open the door when I am in there. I need to see an open door; it's as simple as that. Yesterday while I was in the freezer someone (coworker) purposely moved the bucket that I was using to prop open the door, causing the door to slam shut. I didn't know at the time that this happened intentionally. No big deal, it will take a few minutes for the door to freeze shut. Long story made short, this employee who was just trying to be funny and had no harming intentions leaned against the door. This gave me the impression that the door had frozen shut. Still, no big deal; I grabbed the radio and called for the manager but of course the manager was out in the parking lot and the radio was on his desk.

After a few minutes the guy who shut the freezer door opened it and let me know that he was just playing a joke on me. I politely told him to never do that again. He was laughing and I then emphasized that I was being serious. He said that it was just a joke and I needed to learn how to take a joke. Now I realize he has no idea what the issue is with me and I do not hold that against him. Still I told him I was being serious about this and he dismissed me.

Later one of the cashiers asked me if I was okay. She said that I looked like I was upset. I told her what happened with the freezer and I also told her that tight spaces are a problem for me. I explained that I'm claustrophobic and that recently something really horrible happened to me in a closed in space. She didn't ask too many questions, but she offered to listen if I needed to talk. This well intentioned cashier at some point told the manager that the guy employee locked me in the freezer. This stirred up controversy that landed right in my lap. As far as I was concerned the freezer incident was over with, but the manager called everyone to the break room for a meeting.

The manager reiterated that this was a work place not a place to horseplay. Okay, good enough. The guy who shut the door on me got upset thinking that I told on him to the manager. I didn't tell on him, the cashier did. He looked at me and called me a snitch and a snob. I was visibly upset at this point and the manager told him again that this wasn't the place for horseplay. The guy co-worker asked what's the big deal about playing a joke on her. It was a harmless joke. I became pissed, I was furious. Why couldn't he have just let this go? I walked up to this co-worker and talked very calmly and quietly. I said, "Brad, I didn't tell on you. As far as I was concerned you locking me in the freezer was over with. Since you want to know what the big deal is I will explain it to you. I am scared of small spaces, maybe you heard of it, claustrophobia. Also since you want to know so badly what the BIG DEAL is, three month ago I was abducted and held captive in a van about the same size as that freezer. I was repeatedly raped and beaten inside that van. So yes BRAD, being locked in that freezer that reminded me so much of that van was such a funny joke. FORGIVE ME FOR NOT LAUGHING."

I felt immediately ashamed after I stopped talking. The fact that everyone else who was there was silent because they didn't know what to say, didn't help. I sort of felt empowered, vindicated, and ashamed all at the same time. I walked out of the meeting and into the employee restroom. It didn't take long before someone came to check on me.

Later after I got home I had a dispute with someone on a support forum. I will say it wasn't with someone on After Silence, it was a different forum. This dispute wasn't a big deal, but an administrator of that forum said to me, "if you don't like it here you can go somewhere else". That hit me the wrong way because I wasn't aware that the dispute I had was a real big deal. The entire dispute came down to an argument that started in a thread. I wasn't even a part of this argument. The gist of it was that the administrator disciplined another forum member, but instead of disciplining them by private message they did it in the thread. Essentially letting everyone know that this person was being punished and what their punishment was. I simply contacted that administrator by private message and told her that I thought it should have been handled privately. I tried to explain that handling this in the thread can embarrass the person in question and it seems unprofessional to do that so publicly. Now keep in mind the person that was being disciplined didn't do some horrible thing, but they did show a little bit of disrespect to another member. The administrator apparently didn't like that I suggested that it would have been better to handle all of this in private. She replied back, "if you don't like it here you can go somewhere else". Maybe I'm too sensitive, but when an administrator of a support forum shows such a lack of common decency I tend to get a bad impression of that forum as a whole.

This just added to everything that was going on in my mind. I felt like removing myself from the world. I almost deleted all my online accounts including my blog, but instead I unplugged for several hours. Plus I have been spending too much time in political debate forums. Sure these forums keep me distracted and since I am being HOME SCHOOLED now, I haven't been able to participate in the debate team that I loved so much at the school I was going to. I thought it would be a fitting replacement. The problem with debate forums is when I leave them and go to a support forum that I need to keep myself sane, I have trouble turning off the competitive debating side of me. As a result I can often become very direct in my opinions.

If I ever become very argumentative, please don't take it as personal. I am a very passionate person and when I see something that I feel really strongly about I can become seemingly cold and insensitive in my responses. If I made anyone feel bad during one of my many opinions please accept my apology.

Tripping Over Rocks On A Downhill Slide - A Very Bad Day

Tuesday night November 2nd, 2011 I was having some really vivid and horrible flashbacks. This started early Tuesday evening but continued on throughout the night. These weren't the usual flashbacks where a new detail to the memory of that event came rushing in, these were more like a reliving of the horror I felt on an emotional, spiritual, and physical level. I haven't been able to sleep and I was so tired on this Tuesday, but every time I closed my eyes I felt trapped in the memory of those events. Several times before I went to bed for the night I dozed off on the couch, but I would awake screaming and flailing my arms at the guy who hurt me. The thing is the only people that were there with me would never hurt me. My little sister was freaking out, she was crying because I was waking up so startled. Dad was jumping each time I screamed also. He tried to hold me and tell me everything was okay, but I know he was getting frustrated. At least two times while I was having one of these flashbacks dad tried to wrap his arms around me and tell me it was okay. When this was happening I honestly couldn't see a difference between the monster who's now in jail awaiting sentence and my dad who was trying to comfort me. All I felt was arms around me, restraining me, controlling me, and not letting me free. I fought my dad as if he was that guy, and more than once, more than he deserved, I hit him. This pretty much continued through Tuesday night and into Wednesday morning.

Wednesday morning I was lying in bed staring into the darkness of the room when the alarm clock buzzed to let me know it was time to get ready for school. If I would have been able to sleep I would have ignored the alarm clock and the fact that I needed to go to school by covering my head with the blanket and disappearing. Dad gave me a ride to school and I apologized to him for reacting the way I did toward him during my flashbacks. He told me something that I couldn't get out of my head, something that inadvertently made me feel worse than I already did. "Jaime, you just have to realize that as horrible as it was for you while you were in that van, it is over with now", dad said. It wasn't really what he said to me as much as it was the tired and frustrated look of his face and the sound of his voice. I felt horrible for putting dad and my sister through all of this. They deserve better. I literally hated myself and my life for what I was doing to my friends and family.

While I was at school I was struggling to understand everything that was going on around me. I was so tired and everyone around me seemed to be moving in fast forward while I was nearly catatonic. Very little of what my friends talked about made any sense; even the things the teacher talked about didn't make sense. We had to take a math test that I nearly failed because I didn't even finish it, I couldn't concentrate. My teacher knew I was struggling and although she is normally very understanding she said to me, "I know you're having a difficult time but you need to get past this so that your grades don't get any worse. Good colleges require good grades". I didn't even verbally reply I just nodded my head in compliance.

After class a guy that I know that I neither considered a friend, acquaintance, or even an enemy cornered me in the stairwell. If it would have been a few months ago his come on tactic may have worked, but all I felt was intimidation. He backed me into the corner, he was playing the whole "bad boy" routine. Just being face to face with a guy who I didn't know made me feel uncomfortable, but he also put his hands against the wall on either side of me, blocking my exit. At first I was terrified and I almost screamed. He apparently could tell that I was scared and he asked me what was wrong. I didn't say anything, I just tried to walk away but I couldn't get past his arms. I asked him to move out of my way but he didn't. He asked me if I would go out on a date with him. At this moment I relaxed a little because I realized he was just asking me out and using the whole "bad boy" routine. I guess he thought the "bad boy" attitude would be exciting. I politely told him that I wasn't interested. To make a long story short, he didn't take rejection too well. He called me a tease, slut, tramp, and he even told me that he heard that I was good at opening my legs and letting guys do whatever they want as long as the guy is forceful. By this time there were a few other students that were seeing what was going on and I was able to get out from the corner he had me backed into. As I was walking away I heard him tell his buddy, and I quote, "I guess I have to get my own van if I want to get some of that". I didn't turn around and even acknowledge what he said. He received a laugh from his buddy and someone; I don't know who called him an asshole.

If someone wants to ask me out, they're welcome to but be polite. If I say no, don't take it personally. I'm just not in a place right now where I'm mentally interested in going on a date. Him putting his arms up and blocking me from leaving was bad enough, but him calling me a slut and implying that I'm easy was rude. I have never had voluntary sex, I have only been raped and I doubt that makes me a slut. Even worse the comment he made as I was walking away proved that he knew what happened to me. My best friend in the whole world, a friend that I have known since I was 9 years old when my family moved back to America, she told me that the guy from the hallway was a longtime friend of the guy who raped me. I have personally tried to verify or debunk that information but have been unable to, but it seems logical because some wording that the guy in the van used was the same as what the guy in the hallway used. The guy in the van said to me several times after I gave up and quit fighting, "YOU ARE GOOD AT OPENING YOUR LEGS AND LETTING A FORCEFUL MAN IN".  It wasn't a word for word quote, but the meaning was the same and the wording was close enough to reasonably assume that the guy in the hallway and the guy in the van either knew each other before all of this or have talked to each other since.

I didn't even stick around for the rest of the school day, I asked my friend to give me a ride home. Although she didn't want to leave school to give me a ride home she did, she knew how upset I was. When I got home I sat in a kitchen chair blankly staring out the kitchen window for at least an hour, then I did as I often do to distract myself from myself. I logged on to the internet and there wasn't much happening on After Silence so I decided to signup for another support forum. One of my friends from After Silence is a member of this forum and a different woman I know in real life from group therapy is also a member. Which coincidentally happens to be a woman that I met before all of this ever happened to me? I first met her at a yard sell that she was having. I was looking for a notebook computer and she just happened to have one. When I saw that same woman 3 months later in group therapy I was shocked. Anyway I'm getting off track here. I signed up for this other forum and immediately tried to find her but was unable to, however I did find my friend from After Silence and let her know that I was a member there too.

I immediately began to post, nothing personal about me or what happened to me. It was mostly posts attempting to show support for others on their threads. It always seems to be a distraction from my own issues when I'm trying to help others. One person made a post about wanting to self harm as a means of coping with their own pain. I made a reply where I did my best to show my support for this person. In my reply I mentioned the same method of self harm that the original thread starter had already mentioned. Not too long after I made a reply I received a message from one of the moderators of that other support forum saying that they edited my reply because I mentioned a method of self harm which had already been mentioned in the thread by the original poster. This moderator wasn't rude but it did hit me the wrong way. It was like salt was thrown into my festering wounds. I was just trying to help this person and I didn't use any language or methodology that the original poster didn't already use. I checked my post and saw that my reply wasn't even censored in a smart way, the entire meaning, was changed and it didn't make sense anymore because the entire paragraph that had the word " c u t t i n g " in it was removed.

Between what happened to me in that van 9 weeks ago, my inability to move past this, me driving my family and friends up the wall, what the guy in the hallway said to me, and the feeling of being a failure at trying to help others caused me to snap. I deleted the 8 or so comments that I made on that forum and sent a message telling the moderators to close my account. I haven't been back to that forum since.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR THE NEXT PART

Everything just built up to a breaking point, I was the only one at home and I decided that I didn't want to live anymore. I decided that I didn't want to be a burden to my family and friends. I sat down and began to write a post for my personal blog. While I was writing my post I received a text message from my friend that drove me home from school. She let me know that she got in trouble for leaving school and was given detention. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of vodka that had been sitting in the cabinet for well over a year and began to drink. I don't know if I was trying to drink away my pain, or trying to drink till I died. My memory is a little fuzzy of some of the things for the next several hours. I carried the bottle of vodka into my room along with a gun and finished my blog post with the last few lines reading, (verbatim)

"I'm sorry for all the pain I will cause my family and friends but I can't take it anymore. I have a loaded gun and it is ready to shoot. When I finish drinking this bottle and making this post I am going to use it. Mom I will see you in 30 seconds".

There was more to the post I made but I can't remember most of it. I remember actually looking forward to ending it so that I could see my mom again. After I submitted my crazy blog post I took a few deep breaths and looked at the gun in my hand through my vodka glazed and teared eyes and raised the gun to my heart. Somewhere along the lines my little sister and dad came home. Amie, my little sister burst into my room like she always does and saw the gun pointing at my chest. She screamed for dad and he ran in. I don't remember him taking the gun out of my hand, but he told me that he had to force it out of my hand.

END TRIGGER

Although I don't remember most of the next 3 hours I do know that dad arranged to have my little sister stay the night over one of her friend's house. He also got my grandma who lives in Alabama to temporarily move up here for however long it takes to make sure I'm okay. Dad doesn't think I should be alone. Dad and I talked; well he talked while I cried myself in and out of a semiconscious drunken state. I wasn't even thinking about the fact that I left a post on my blog about hurting myself for the entire world to see. I'm not going to go into details here because I don't think it would be fair. The short story is that at least 3 people who read my blog saw part or all of my post. One of them tried desperately to contact me to find out if I was okay, but after being unable to reach me this person called the police. It's a long story with details that I'm not going to go into here, but I ended up erasing myself from much of the internet. I deleted my blog and email address that was used with my blog. The reason, well that's another story for another time perhaps.

Since that night I have tried to apologize to the people that I scared in real life and online. One of the persons online became furious with me because I made the post about hurting myself and has refused to talk to me. She won't return my emails or text messages. I hope she will see this post and realize how sorry I am for scaring her. My dad has removed all alcohol from the house, which isn't a problem for him since I have only seen him drink a beer once or twice in my life. He has also placed trigger locks on all the guns and locked them in a gun safe. When I was a baby dad and mom had to baby proof the house, now at age 16 dad has to idiot proof a house. I don't feel too good about that. I feel sort of foolish.

I made a promise to a friend Sunday night that I would never try to hurt myself again. I have made the same promise to my dad, grandma, and myself. In an effort to keep that promise I am going to try to be more open about my emotions in hope that it will keep me from reaching that breaking point.

While at school today I reported the guy who cornered me in the hallway. Although I don't think he will get in any trouble for what he said, but in the event that something like it happens in the future there will be a record of it.

I guess that's all I have to say right now.