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Update, Hospitalization, and Progressive Health

Been a long while since I have been on this blog or any. Actually, I haven’t been on the internet in like forever because of what started at the end of May. I got to a point where I wanted to beat my husband up in his sleep, crying myself to sleep every night, major anxiety, and so much more. My husband confronted me at my work because he happened to see that I was talking about partial hospitalization on fb. I told him I was serious. He understood after reading about wanting to beat him up. I just couldn’t handle this “normal” (fake) life anymore. I was hurting and no one cared. Even my cousin (the only one in the family I talk to) told me she was tired of talking about it, and we only talked about it maybe 4 times within a year. Anyways, so off to the hospital I went.

I uprooted my family from one part of the country to the other with my wanting to go back to where I grew up to make sure I got the best care, since there were no trauma therapists or support groups within 2 hours of where we lived. Hated that town anyways!

I went into the ER at 4:30pm, brought to the Mental Hospital here at 2am, and finally laid my head down on one of the inpatient beds at 4am. I slept that whole day or two. I was that depressed. My husband had to go back and work but I was inpatient for 10 days. The best 10 days I could have ever gotten. I really do recommend people going and getting help if they are thinking suicidal or that depressed.

(On the way to my hometown, I wanted to jump out of the car, but I turned my music on and went to sleep for the 23 hour drive.)

After inpatient I was outpatient in the PHP (Partial Hospitalization Program) there while I slept on my dad’s couch. Once my husband drove back down we got a hotel for Hubby and Cupcake (*Not her real name, our daughter). The suicidal thoughts started coming more frequent when interacting with my husband and daughter. If only I was dealing with my past rapes. Rape started a long process of unhealthy relationships for me.

Since they wanted to get me reevaluated again, I got sent inpatient for a LONG 5 days. It was unexpected and very aggravating. I made the doctors think everything was fine. It was easier that way because not having jobs or a place to live and my physical health was more important to me.

Now I realize that, yes, I am living my life after rape, but I am not defined by anything. Not MDD or PTSD or anything. I am me and all I can do is me. I took very colorful notes inpatient and outpatient and have finally been released from the programs. I wish I could stay there for those who are just now coming into the program and be an advocate for them. It is so essential that they realize it is more than just sitting there in the groups, but soaking up the knowledge the therapists and doctors are giving them. I feel like I did all I could do there for my own personal growth.

Now that I am out, I am still journalling from time to time (with markers in composition books) and looking into DBT. Dialectical Behavioral Therapy focuses on Distress Tolerance and Interpersonal Effectiveness, which the inpatient therapist tried to go over with me. Thinking more rationally than emotionally minded when it comes to situations where I perceive distress in relationships. I feel like I have lots of resources and help and I will gladly pass them on to others who need help just surviving LIFE, let alone abuse.

Strive for PROGRESSION, NOT Perfection. I want to surround myself with progressively healthy people than people who are stuck and unhealthy to what my needs are.

Think I might coin that phrase if it already isn’t… “PROGRESSIVELY HEALTHY” or “PROGRESSIVE HEALTH”

Seeing the Effects Rape has Caused

Sorry I haven’t been on here in a while. I have been dealing with personal issues that have truly crippled the person I used to be before dealing with being a rape victim. It turns out that I was able to manage life (however much in denial I was) before I defined it as rape. Now that I am a victim, I see how much it  has truly affected my life and how upside down I feel most days.

See, I met my husband four years ago. I told him back then there was something that happened with my first boyfriend, but I could never call it rape, he did. In fact, I remember that “something” affecting how I reacted to guys when it was brought up again. I’m not proud of how I reacted, but I was trying to protect myself. Anyways, when I told him back then, he didn’t push me into the intimacy part of a new relationship (like every single guy before him did). I was comfortable with him and fell in love with him. We married six months later.

Turns out we were having difficulties for a while, but I was never strong enough to stand up for myself (or I thought that was how I was supposed to be as a girlfriend, wife, mother). So when I started to isolate myself and do things other than what he had been used to, it really aggravated him. Would tell me I am changing. That if I just got off of my support group, then things would be back to normal, etc. None of that was a key to a healthy relationship as I started to see that we didn’t have a healthy relationship.

About three or four weeks ago, I started having multiple panic attacks a day for five days until the “big” one came. I literally was lying on the dining room floor so dizzy and ready to pass out, crying my eyes out, barely able to breathe because the thought of moving to a different state with all of my marital problems put me in a tailspin. Needless to say, the hubby has not been supportive at all. It took him until I reached my breaking point before he would see that things NEEDED to change or we wouldn’t make it.

I reached the point where I literally thought “too little too late”. The thought of death was more appealing than living how I was living or putting my child through a divorce. I still wonder if it is a better option, but I know that I could never kill myself (and I thank God for that). My faith and my fear of dying has held me up when nothing else would. Not that I have practiced my faith, but what I do know helped me not give up when all else failed me.

I often wonder if my husband is doing all of this because I told him things have to change, if he is doing it because he is afraid to lose his daughter (not me), or if he is doing it because he is afraid of another failed marriage. Either way, he is trying, and I feel like I need to let him try… even though he’s had many chances and things get good, and then turn sour quickly. I really don’t know if I will make it through another one of those episodes. He told me after four years of marriage that he finally took down some wall he had up in our marriage. I was like what the heck?! You think I set you up because I didn’t tell you all my problems before we married and you have a WALL up???

Anyways, I say all of this because it truly has made me see how my past has affected my present. It pains me to see the effects. It’s not like I can go back to being in denial about our issues, I just have to find a way to work with them or walk away. And last thing anyone wants to do is walk away. I love my husband, but I need support. He can tell I am depressed. I’ve been depressed for a while now. Even while writing this, I am in a fog… distancing myself from any kind of real emotion and just overwhelmed with the thought of pushing forward to heal. It’s sad. I really am an optimistic woman. I’ve just been torn down so much that I feel myself protecting myself from anything… like I am the one with the barricade around my heart not letting anything in, until I am ready.

I really love being inspirational and sharing information on this blog, but I thought I’d share a little bit about what I am going through lately. None of it has been easy. I am still going through counseling, finally scheduled my depression evaluation (just in case meds could help me get a hold of things for now — never permanently — hate meds really, but I NEED HELP), and am searching other avenues to help me heal.

What ways have helped you through your journey?