To live in the present tense

This is just a rough outline of how I began to deal with the trauma.

For nearly 10 years, I was in denial about what had happened.

My concept of rape and sexual assault was a woman being grabbed from behind while walking down a dark alley alone and raped by a stranger.  

I had no concept of intimate partner rape and violence.  I honestly thought that since I had consented to sex before with #2, that he had the right to have sex with me whenever he wanted.  Even by force.

I started having nightmares, flashbacks, panic attacks.  I was having repeated cycles of depression that would incapacitate me for weeks at a time.

I had been in therapy since I was 16, but I never fully acknowledged what had happened to me until I hit the 10 year anniversary of the first assault.

At that time, it seemed like the “poison” was clamoring to get out.

When my parents moved from my childhood home, I found a pile of my old journals from a very painful part of my life.  I remember sitting in my car, reading all of them.  And crying my eyes out.

I had misgivings about my marriage from the beginning.  I was yearning to have a secure and stable relationship with someone that didn’t hurt me.

But around the time I got pregnant, things fell apart.  Please note, my daughter was very much planned.

As a nurse, I was aware of my cycle and fertility.  I even had a calendar on the fridge that had it all mapped out…when I was fertile, when it was ‘safe’.  I had stopped birth control the year before due to horrible side effects.  I had a very honest and informational talk with #3 and we agreed to start trying for a baby.

Imagine my surprise when he locked himself in our bedroom for three days with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

He didn’t participate in my pregnancy…at all.  He almost missed her birth.  And forget about waking up at night or doing anything more than the absolute basic for her.

When I confirmed his infidelity (put it this way, I became VERY sick in certain regions of my body) I got on a plane to take me to my  birthplace 1500 miles away, and where my parents had recently located.

It was a time period of revelation.  I reviewed my life up until that point.  I started analyzing the panic attacks and the nightmares.  I decided to find effective treatment with someone experienced in these matters.

I scheduled an interview with the local women’s shelter.

The plethora of information they provided at intake made me realize that even though #3 didn’t rape me or hit me, his constant emotional abuse and intimidation was a common form of abuse.

I distinctly remember reading a checklist of behaviors that indicated abuse.  I began ticking off many that applied to my failed marriage.

From that point, I started going to group therapy at the shelter with other women who had experienced abuse.

I can’t not express to you how much this has helped my recovery.  I honestly thought I was alone.  I thought that no one could possibly understand what was going through my head.

Each week for over a year I faithfully attended group therapy meetings.

I also started investigating a type of therapy that was suggested to me by two of my former psychiatrists.

EMDR.

I found a psychologist near my parent’s home that used this method of treatment.  And thus began a 2 year journey of extremely hard work to help “get the poison out”.

I am by no means completely healed.  I don’t think I can ever be.  But I function better, I have less nightmares, and nearly zero flashbacks.

I think that I will always have the trauma in the back of my mind.  But it no longer paralyzes me.

I am a better woman, better mother, better wife now that I have dealt with my demons.