Journals of a sexual abuse survivor o6

To those of you that continuously reach out with encouraging words.. I just wanted to let each of you know that those words mean more than I could ever describe to you, so thank you.

In my last post, I discussed the morning when I was raped- a traumatic day. I also believe I have described how long of a process this whole thing truly was for me. P was arrested August of 2017. He was not convicted till September of 2018 and not sentenced to prison until January of 2019. Therefor the trial process lasted well over a year. With the abuse beginning in 2016, it was a major part of my life in very important years of my life. Everything relating to what I went through basically lasted from my sophomore- senior year of high school. When I say it took over my life, it really took over my life.

Going back to school that fall after P was arrested was really scary for me. Not only that, but because the whole process was a rollercoaster. There were a few times when P was bailed out and I wasn’t informed of his release. An example that comes to mind is this: P’s trial was the week of homecoming my senior year. To a typical high school girl, like me, homecoming was my favorite week of the year. So it already was tough because I was going to be missing so many fun events and dress up days for the trial- not to mention It was about to be one of the worst weeks of my life- I was about to testify in court against my abuser. Anyway, he was convicted by the end of the week. I felt okay, not great, to go to the game and the dance because it was just a hard week. So, I was at the football game and I received an automated text saying P had bonded out of jail. I didn’t even know he had the option to bond out AFTER he was convicted, yet I get a text while I am supposed to be having fun- telling me. my abuser who I had JUST testified against was being set free until he is sentenced to prison. Yup. It felt like a huge slap in the face. Sometimes, our justice system does not make any sense, and that is a PRIME example of that. It felt similar probably to walking on broken glass. Long story short though, senior homecoming was ruined for me lol. Anytime I went out in public, I was beyond self-conscious that people just knew me as, ‘the girl who was raped or sexually abused’. Honestly, as a 16/17 year old girl, that was terrifying. People didn’t know if they should treat me normal or what. I know it probably sounds dramatic, but it was real life for me.

Something important to know is that my anxiety and depression were absolutely through the roof at this time. During my junior year of high school, there were countless days where I couldn’t even sit through class because I was just having a hard time. This occurred especially towards the beginning of the school year. I remember a specific day, again,homecoming week, I went to English class. It was my first class of the day. First of all, I showed up to school with actual tears running down my face and I couldn’t make it stop. That was probably my first mistake. My high school had this policy where if you missed two days or less of a class you wouldn’t have to take the final. That being said, it is probably easy to tell where my priorities lied. Anyway, I was in my desk, in the very front of the room in English class- STILL crying. I remember my friend behind me was just like, “Denni go home lol what are you still doing here school isn’t this important”. Eventually, I went up to the teacher and told her that I had to go. This was all because I was just so unbelievably unwell I quite literally could not function.

Most days, I didn’t even make it out of bed to class. I literally was so depressed that I could not muster the energy to get out of bed in the morning. Looking back on it, it’s actually extremely sad, but a reality that many people do live. All throughout that year, every one of my teachers knew what was going on with me. They knew that if I suddenly needed to leave the room, I HAD to LEAVE the room. I often emailed my guidance counselor, our School officer, or even our school social worker, in hopes of finding someone to vent to or cry to in the middle of the day. Everyone knew that I was just really struggling, and I guess I was really lucky to have the support around me that I did have. Junior and senior year I took far more mental days, than were allowed. My school administration literally had to sign off saying it was okay that I missed more than 20 days so I wouldn’t fail my classes. It was really terrible.

Oh, and did I mention I was also having really bad sleeping problems? I absolutely could not go to sleep in complete darkness, I always had my closet light on. Which is something I have never had a problem with before. Often times I would sleep on the couch in the living room hoping to get some sleep. It never worked though. I was REALLY going through it. So, in the previous paragraph when I mentioned that I didn’t have enough energy to get out of bed, that was probably also due to the fact that I literally was not sleeping. In contrast though, I would skip class and nap for literally 3-5 hours every day. That literally spells D E P R E S S I O N.

Ice skating was my absolute favorite thing at this time, and sometimes even that couldn’t make me feel better. I was so angry and sad at the world that some days I couldn’t even find it in my heart to let my teammates give me the love and support that I so needed. If you know anything about me, you know that I always have loved each of my teammates with my whole heart- so this was so hard for me. Luckily, My teammates and coaches knew what was going on in my life. That being said though, there were multiple days where I would literally have to say to my teammates “I’m having a really hard time, please understand I’m not trying to take it out on you,” or something along those lines. And they always understood. I was really, really lucky. There was even a couple times at morning practices that I literally had a panic attack and had to sit down and take a breather for a few minutes. If you haven’t been able to tell by now, I am telling you- I was really going through it.

Basically, the entirety of my junior year was like that. I was so lost.

A few months ago, when I began this blog, I went back through my old phone from those two years of high school. I have never admitted this to anyone, but to give a perspective of how much I was hurting, I literally found suicide notes in my notes app. Yes, that’s right, noteS, as in multiple. I don’t remember typing them at all, but they were addressed to the most relevant people in my life, my parents my sisters, my best friends, my teammates, and people who I felt caused me this pain. I’ve explained this before, but I’ve always just found it therapeutic to put my thoughts into words. I believe I wrote those letters just to get my anger and pain out. I was never actually going to follow through with killing myself, but I needed some sort of outlet- which apparently helped me in the end.

I ask myself this really often, but how did I find the strength in me to keep fighting? I was so young and naïve. I was so unsure of my life, and it just felt as if my whole entire world was CRASHING down around me. Though, I have been finding out that there was a bigger picture to everything I went through. Every day I live a life proud of who I am on the other side of everything I went through. Sure, there are days that are really hard and there are times when I experience a trigger and I am brought back to those dark times in my life. Thankfully, I am reminded of the strong women that came out of that situation and feel grateful that I did.