Life Afterwards

I’ve told my story. I’ve seen it hundreds of times in flashbacks. Now it’s been over 18 months since the first time I told my story. I’m still healing, but now I know I’ll be able to be happy again. I’ve seen glimpses of happiness in the last 3 months. I am now independent. I am now my own self and have the right to my own body. Believe me, I still get scared. I know there will always be that scared feeling but that’s because I’m protecting myself. Now I make my own living. I’m not afraid to see the path ahead of me. I see marriage and kids and a future. In the last 18 months I’ve learned that change does happen. I didn’t finish college but I still have a full time job. I didn’t finish the major I worked on but now I know I want to do art and accounting. Who knows what will happen next…
So this is the end to my blog. Thank you to all my followers and I hope I helped you. Rape and domestic violence is a terrible thing. I know my life goal is to help survivors out there. I want to help them have a voice! Hopefully one day we won’t need to be scared anymore. Remember survivors out there, you’re strong! I know I am!

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Last Therapy Session

My last Trauma therapy session was yesterday. I feel so much healthier from when I first started. I am able to understand what happened to me, how it effected me, how I can deal with it, and that it isn’t my fault. It is truly amazing what 6 months of support can do! I originally had a bad therapist, but my new one was through a crisis center and she really helped. Even if you have one bad therapist, there are many good ones so don’t be afraid to get help! I am glad I tried again and I know now that in the future, I will be better! Thank you RAINN to opening up crisis centers!

The day I told my parents

I kept quiet for 13 months. He told me not to tell, so I didn’t.  I’d tell people he needed help.  My mom didn’t understand why he needed help.  I’d say he had depression, but she didn’t realize how bad it was.

The day I told my parents, I was in a fight with him. We fought often. Every week basically, but I never really told my them when we fought.  This fight was bad.  I was done with waiting around for him to get help when he was never going to get it.  I remember I was in the car with my dad and he asked my if my ex could drive me to an appointment before my mom showed up.  I said no and my dad started asking me why.  Eventually, I told him we were in a fight.  I told him something about my ex posturing to grab my wrists.  My dad didn’t respond.

When I got home, my dad told my mom we were in a fight. I didn’t tell them anything, but eventually I told them how he hit me.  My mom flipped out.

My mom invited his family over for Thanksgiving awhile back because she thought they were going to be part of the family one day.  She started freaking out that she had to spend time with the guy that was hurting me. Eventually, my mom’s good friend (who is also a survivor) started talking to me about how it’s still my choice to stay with him, but I need help.  During the dinner, he went upstairs and punched a pillow because my mom told him he needed therapy. Therapy wasn’t going to fix him though – he was far gone.

On black Friday, I broke up with him. I told him that I loved him, but couldn’t be with him if he didn’t get help.  I didn’t love him… He lost my love long ago.

On that Saturday, I reported.  It all spilled out. The countless rapes, his manipulative behavior, the times he pestered me to do things against my will, the isolation… Everything. It was abuse.  I was in shock for months, but that was the start to my healing.

He may have told me not to tell because he thought he could get away with it in his sociopath way.  People ask me why I didn’t tell sooner, but there is no answer. I just couldn’t.  I didn’t trust anyone and I thought I was going to get hurt.

After all that happened – I was still able to tell. And I won’t let him win. I am braver and stronger than he thinks!