Last night I watched Captain Phillips, and at the end when he is rescued, I had a bit of a realization. When something that you experience doesn't have any words, then you see a movie and you think oh my gosh that's it, that's what it was like, it is one of those light bulb moments, If you have seen that movie you know. The part where he realizes that he is safe that he is not captive anymore. The inability to speak, the state of confusion, the pain from his wounds it all hit me really hard, and part of me completely froze, I understands that,because I understand exactly where he was, only there wasn't anyone to tell me that I was OK. So many moments went through my head, my reactions to situations, and not one person understood really. I think Dr. Culpepper did and I am grateful. It was that moment where you understand something that you never did before.
I am really hard on myself. I want things a certain way, I should be over certain things. My heart should not hurt anymore. Things should not bother me, I should not remember the way that I do. I should not feel things so deeply after all this time. I could make you a million and one lists of the things that I should and should not have done. Things I did to make things worse. Split second decisions that only made things worse; I mean I could talk about that forever but it would take me hours to come up with why I deserve a break.
Those last few minutes of that movie in some crazy strange way was permission for me not to have it all figured out, not to have it all under control. There are things it made me remember in a new way and understand myself in a different way. He was traumatized in a different way, but I was able to see the impact for him and that was OK. For me I should be stronger, should, be coherent, should have the words, should understand the feelings and I don't do any of those things. I should get up brush myself off and be fine. But I have tried doing all of those things and they have not worked at all.
That moment of shock, of utter fear that you believe that you might not make it out alive. There have been many of those moments in my life. For the most part I was able to keep it all together, continue to do all the things that I was supposed to do. I think that things started so young with my father that it was a gradual process; so as things got worse I just got used to it I was able to as they say keep my head on my shoulders, but there were times that I was defiantly not OK. There were many times I was more than pretending that all was fine but really things were crumbling. But that movie last night mad me think about the time after the gang rape. In every sense of the word I was broken. My mind, my body, my spirit my soul. After they left I was so afraid that they were going to come back or do something else. They had been there for so long, and there were times that day when my world literally went black, when there was nothing left to do but shut out the world. What was happening was unimaginable and even as I sit here typing my fingers freeze and I think could I really have survived all that happened was it really that bad ? These are the moments that play over and over in my head. It was hard to walk hard to get up. I was worried about the house being a mess for when my parents came home. All that had just happened and I was worried about the house. I can remember trying to find some clothes but they hurt my skin, every inch was bruised and even the light cotton shirt felt like a brick wall. I can remember being obsessed with the fringe on the blanket. I just couldn't get it to lay right , and I tried so hard but it just wouldn't do it. There were no tears , I was just trying to fix everything make it look pretty. I don't have a clue how I was able to move, because even walking was almost impossible. I made sure that all that had been done in my parents room was cleaned and that everything looked like it did before. I was in shock not believing all that had happened that day, and that I was still alive to even clean up.
I finally went to bed and they, my parents, came home, at what time I don't have a clue. I was down for a few days, I can remember taking pain medicine , I was hurt really bad, I was black from the bruises. My body not in a good place at all. The bleeding lasted for days and A hug hurt, anything hurt from sitting to taking a shower it was all painful. And I just had to hope that things would heal and I would be OK.
I don't think I realized that I was in shock until really in the last year or two. Looking back its so obvious to see that I was in complete shock and not one person did a thing, not one person cared to think about me. Not even most of the professionals.
This is one of the things that gets me, some details I remember so very clear and other things I can't. I am not sure about the time frame but I know that Calvin said that I had to tell that I couldn';t keep getting hurt. And it was like I was watching everything from up above. All the commotion all around me, all the talk that I was lying that I just wanted attention. Joan's first question was asking if we should get a pregnancy test. I was numb to the world. Almost dead to the world really. I remember Calvin walking in and giving him a hug and worrying about all of their questions.....
They took me home that night and Bob Lux sat me down on the coach to tell me how different that things were going to be....he spoke for a long time I just wanted everyone to go away....I wanted to be alone.....who was he to tell me how different that things were going to be......
The next day I remember waking up to both of my parents standing by my bed and looking at me. This was my life what was their problem. There were the overheard phone conversations from the police, to therapists, to Joans phone call telling my parents that she didn't believe me, I just wasn't showing enough emotion. I just wanted attention. Fuck you Joan, there was no emotion left you try being raped by 5 men, in your own home for hours and tell me how you deal with it ?? What was I supposed to do oh please share ?
There was the trip to Dr. Culpeppers office, he was the only one that listened to me. I remember sitting there and him talking but I don't know what he said. I was sitting on the table scared he was going to touch me , that I just might crumble. I know that he said that I couldn't keep it all bottled up inside. I remember him patting my knee and telling me that it was OK. I remember him asking if he could do an exam. I said no that I was fine. I was not fine but the thought of someone seeing what they did was unbearable. He listened and said that we would do it in the future. Part of me today wishes that he did, but another part of me was grateful . If he would have I could have gotten the medical help that I needed. But in the long run everything healed and he was the only person that respected me enough to even care what I wanted, for that I am more than grateful. The trauma and problems that would have caused would have been horrible.
There was the trip to the rape crisis center. I remember getting a happy mean and laying down in the back of the car and eating it. Chicken nuggets and fries. I remember that her name was Cynthia Hodges. I remember that she wore way too much Turquoise jewelry and that she almost double crossed her legs. That meeting also didn't go well. My father yelling and screaming, pointing his finger at me and I sat there.....nothing nothing......then when he is done she says well maybe we need to do this separately. These are the people and they way that they were responding to me.
There was sitting in my fathers therapist office and having them have this conversation about me with out involving me, I just sat there between my mother and father as they spoke about me. My father calling me an entity unto myself whatever that meant....He asked me how many, he asked me a few questions but there was no concern there, they were not asking about my heart, if I was OK, how I was handling what had happened to me. I was asked to leave and they stayed in there for a little while, I was literally dead inside, all my energy, all my strength was in trying to heal my body.
These are the things that hurt my heart, these are the things that I don't care to remember yet I do, I remember so much, I remember the little details. It was that crazy movie, and seeing him in shock was such a realization. I have been through a lot and it was a long time ago but there are things that hurt a person that take a long time to heal. Things happened to me that no person should experience, but I did and I lived through them and for the most part I am a whole person. I still hurt but I am much better than I have ever been before. I am happy but I think there is always going to be a sad surrounding my past just because of the things that happened, the things that were taken, the experiences that I have lived through. But I am here, I am still breathing and I will never give up to completely heal my heart. I do wish there were people to remind me that I am OK during those hard time but maybe even that is coming, you just never know. So here is to a time of being kinder gentler to myself, I have been through the worst and am working on the repair.
Trying to get my heart where my mind is. Someday.
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