April
Friday, December 21, 2007 at 8:32PM BIO
My name is April, and I am 25 years old. At the age of 19, I became involved in a relationship that ultimately ended in violence. While dating him at the age of 19, the main abuse focus was emotional manipulation on his part. We went our separate ways, and I believed for it to be over. In the summer of 2003, when I was 21 years old, he wound up in my life again for one night. I was drugged and raped. It goes without saying that these events in my life impacted everything to follow. However, through ups and downs, I realized it was up to me to decide whether the impact would be positive or negative. At the time of the attack, at age 21, I was living on my own and attending a four year university, double-majoring in Biology and Chemistry. I dropped out, and moved to a new city. Four years later, in July 2007, I received my A.A.S. degree as a Respiratory Care Practitioner, graduating from college ‘with distinction.’ For as long as I can remember, even before the attack occurred, all I wanted to do was graduate from college. I accomplished that this year, and it feels wonderful. I love what I do, I’m good at what I do, and I look forward to building my career in the many years to come.
By far, the most rewarding experience for me on this journey thus far has been meeting fellow survivors. I can’t even count how many women and men I have come to know and count on. If the experiences that we have endured must happen, I know I am grateful in knowing that I will not find myself alone.
April's Contact Info:
Email: daysie_duke_00@yahoo.com
Q & A
1. What is your favorite coping skill?
“Grounding techniques.” They are simple, easy methods to keep in mind when you find yourself in a ‘hyperaroused’ (e.g. fight or flight) or ‘hypoaroused’ (e.g. disconnection, numbness) state of mind. The most common trigger I come across is something that will remind me, and even send me into flashbacks, of the night the rape occurred. Little things that I know, that would probably mean nothing to someone else, are things that can trigger me. The first one that comes to mind is a certain ring tone on Nokia cell phones. I remember his phone ringing and ringing that night, with his girlfriend calling and wondering where he was. Grounding allows me to come back to the present, and control the ‘fight or flight’ response, or at least keep it to a minimum. I can do anything from chew gum, utilize ‘labeling’ (concentrating on the things that surround me, taking an inventory, if you will, of my surroundings. “I see that painting. I see the television. I see the stereo…etc.”) It’s easy to remember, and no one is the wiser to what is going on, if I so choose it to be like that.
2. What was the best piece of healing advice you ever received?
The simplest advice has been the best for me; it has been something that I keep reminding myself of time and time again. It was not my fault. I did not deserve to be raped. Like many other survivors, the first thing that I started beating myself up over was the fact that I was under the impression that I had asked for it. That I had done something horrible and I was now being punished for it. I think that initial support I received, from friends and family members who were the first to tell me that it was not my fault, was what set the healing wheels in motion. One can’t begin to live as a survivor, to heal, until that rock has been overturned and reveals those positive vibes.
3. What was the worst piece of healing advice you ever received?
Oddly enough, the worst advice was advice I gave to myself. I thought I needed to recover and heal on some sort of timeline; I thought I had to ‘make myself OK’ by a certain point in life. I couldn’t have been more wrong. After the assault happened, I threw myself back into ‘normal’ life and tried everything I could to live as if nothing had ever happened. I dove head first into intimate relationships, all the time ignoring the warnings going off in my head – telling me that I was not ready yet. Living in such denial only postponed the healing I so desperately needed; however, I try not to think of that episode as ‘regret.’ Instead, I think of it as a lesson – something to learn from. The past cannot change, but we can always learn from it.
4. What were the three hardest obstacles to overcome?
- The fact that my ex boyfriend was never punished for his crime. The farthest the investigation went was his interrogation, and the surrender of a DNA sample from him. However, due to a far less than stellar performance done on behalf of the hospital I was taken to, vital evidence was destroyed, along with my case. It destroyed me – but not for good. I know what happened. Each time I speak out, someone else will know, too.
- The overwhelming feeling of guilt. Even though I heard “it’s not your fault” from the beginning, I still had to learn to believe it.
- Allowing the memories to bleed into my present life. I had to relearn how to trust again. I had to relearn how to be happy. I had to figure out for myself that I had to look forward to living life, instead of worry about the ‘what ifs.’
5. Have you ever hit “rock bottom?” What keeps you going?
More than once. More times than I can count. The support from important people in my life is the vital fuel that keeps me moving forward. When you’re in pain, keeping it to yourself will not remedy it. One has to reach out and find the support. It’s out there. Trust me, I’ve found it.
6. What does forgiveness mean to you?
This is something that I actually have just been trying to figure out. It finally occurred to me that when one is forgiven, it does NOT have to mean that the action is validated – that it was OK. The hardest part of this journey is learning, realizing, and attempting, to forgive my ex. In the beginning, I was adamant that it could not be done. I was under the impression that if I ever forgave him, it was the same as saying “what you did was okay. I deserved it,” which was everything I was trying to overcome. I can forgive myself, for the self-loathing, pain, and guilt. I am working toward forgiving my ex boyfriend. Carrying around this hatred for him does nothing to him, but still hurts me. When I can let it go, I can only imagine the weight that will be lifted.
7. When did you know that everything was going to be okay – that you were going to make it?
The first time I told my story. In doing that, I simultaneously was reaching out and accepting the hands of support that were extended toward me. In realizing that I was not alone, for the first time I knew that I would survive and that I really would be okay. Finding the others out there that are like me is comparable to finding that oasis in the desert, right before you collapse.
8. Is there anything that you would like to say to someone just beginning their journey?
If you can remember just one piece of advice, let it be this: you are not alone, and you never will be. There is always someone out there to listen, and to understand – no matter where you are. It will never be an easy journey – but in surviving, you already have the strength to take that road. No one can take it from you.
9. If there was one piece of advice that you would give, or one thing you would want the significant other, best friend, etc. of a survivor to keep in mind throughout the survivor’s healing process, what would that be?
Don’t be there just to be there. Don’t be a shoulder to cry on because you have nothing better to do. When the survivor wants to speak, listening does not involve just your ears. Most of all, if you are going to start this journey, you need to be there for the duration, and not just when it’s convenient. We as survivors did not have the luxury of clearing our schedules for the abuse to occur.
LITERATURE
Writing:
September 2007:
I’ve come to liken my journey to that of breathing. It hurt so much in the beginning – like I was holding my breath. For days, weeks, months, everything began to tighten its hold on me and to suffocate me. Then, it became my every day life. I began to get accustomed to the breathlessness that took over, and succumb to the black-out sensation that was rapidly approaching. In learning to survive and in beginning to fight, I took that first gasping gulp of air and felt immediate relief. Slowly, my senses returned to me, and as time passed, the tiny straw I had begun to breathe through grew wider and wider – allowing more air in with each breath. I breathed in hope, and exhaled the shadows that had been holding me back.
Excerpt from my story, from TBC website:
“…However, perhaps in some sort of ‘blessing in disguise’ (my mom’s words) I do not remember the actual rape. I do not know how I was drugged, or when I was drugged. No longer do I remember the pieces of my shattered life that took place before I was raped. I guess that phase of my life is over, and I need to keep realizing that and learn how to function post-trauma.
I lost a lot of things in one night, even if they didn’t actually disappear until later on. I lost ‘things’ – clothes, property, stupid shit that I still mourn for some unknown reason. I lost friends, and I lost a lover. I lost a job, I lost an apartment. I lost ideas – safety, security, confidence, trust. I thought I had lost my identity, but I really only gained a title. It was up to me, however, which title I wanted to go by: victim or survivor. ‘Victim’ would not let me advance any further. ‘Survivor’ would help me get back what I could, and release what I could not.
There are things in my life now that I want to keep with me, and remember for the rest of my days. In the years after I was raped, I have met fellow survivors, and each of them have had their own impact on my life – fingerprints, if you will. From them, I have learned that no matter how low I get, how much I despise my life and everything that has happened to it – I’m not alone. We’re all linked together in our survival. I’ve seen four anniversaries so far – they will always come, year after year. They are a constant, now. They will never stop. Each one that passes is one more that someone else can learn from. Each one that passes is one more year that I survived.”
Journal Entry “A Conversation with Myself”
Things I will forgive myself for:
1. It was not my fault. I said no.
2. It doesn't matter if I only said no once. Once should be enough.
3. I didn't ask for it.
4. My failed relationship with (*) did not rest solely on me. We both failed each other
5. It's OK to hurt.
6. I followed the 'rules' as best as I could. I reported it, did not shower, change clothes, etc. There was nothing else I could do. The system failed me.
7. I do not have to return to the 'self' I was before it happened.
8. There is no timeline for recovery.
9. Wanting to start a new life does not mean giving up. It means adding on to. It means growth.
10. Survivor. Not victim.
11. It's hard to heal on your own. Asking for help does not imply weakness.
12. It's OK to be happy. Being happy does not mean I'm 'over it.' It does not belittle what happened.
13. I will seek counseling only when I'm ready. I can't force myself to do anything. That will only make things worse.
(*) = Name removed.
LETTER
“A Letter to July 19th”
--I initially wrote this in between the 3rd and 4th anniversaries of the night I was raped. On the day of the 4th anniversary, I simply added on an entry to the end.
Dear July 19th,
As the years go by, I will never forget you. Everybody has one anniversary or another. Birthdays are anniversaries, of the day we are born. Some have wedding anniversaries. Some mark the anniversary of the death of a loved one. But you, for almost four years now, have been my anniversary. July 19th, you mark the day my former self ended. You mark the ghost of who I used to be. In a way, you mark her death. I lived for twenty-one years before you came in to scar me for the rest of my life.
7-19-2003: The day we first met. I woke up that morning feeling no more different than any other day. But by the end of the day…I knew that things would never be the same again. I was raped that night. I was raped on the night of July 19th, 2003. Goodbye, former self. Hello, Hell.
7-19-2004: I had no idea what to expect this day. You were ever present in my mind. You were ever present while I was awake, and you were there in my sleep as well. One year had passed, yet it felt like a lifetime. However, it was then that I realized that you would keep coming…year after year…and I had to find a way to learn to live with you in my life and still function among the living.
7-19-2005: Two years. Isn’t it funny the things you remember, and the things that you don’t? It was here that I realized the fact that I had lived a life for twenty-one years before I was raped and only two years after…and for the life of me, all I knew and all I remembered was the nightmare of the two years after. Twenty-one years of my life were gone, and I had to start all over again. My new self was only two years old…a baby. One who was beginning to learn not how to function as a victim, but how to function as a survivor.
7-19-2006: I’ve come a long way in three years. I’ve gone from living merely in the physical sense to living in the spiritual sense as well. I survived, and now it’s time to live as well. I can be alive and breathing, but that’s not really living. That’s no kind of life. July 19th, this year, I finally figured out that I don't have to be afraid of you. I can look forward to July 19th and not betray my new life. I’m no longer in mourning. Maybe that girl didn’t disappear those three years ago…maybe she just transformed.
I’ll always remember you, July 19th. I’ve progressed from obsession to acceptance. You will always exist, but that doesn’t mean that I cannot. You did not create the image I have of you now. That was a force beyond your control. I know that now. It was a force beyond my control as well. I don’t blame you anymore. I’m learning not to blame myself. Oh sure, I regress sometimes into that state of mind…but I’ve gained the tools I need to come out of it. I used to want to black you out of the calendar altogether, but then I realized that if I did that then I would be removing a piece of myself.
So, July 19th, year after year, I will be thinking of you less and less…but you will still be there. And I want you to be…I need you to be there. Because if you disappear now, then I’m not the person I’ve fought for all these years. I was raped on July 19th, 2003. But I survived.
7/19/2007:
Four years later.
Guess what. You came again. Big surprise. I actually thought about not getting out of bed at all today. I wanted to cancel everything, stay in bed, and cry my eyes out.
But what would that help? Would it erase the past? Nope. Would it change the fact that I am now a rape survivor? Nope. The only thing it would change would be the fact that I'd get nothing done today, and no one would give a shit as to why.
Today, I decided to stop obsessing about the past and about the things that I simply cannot change. It will NOT make it better. I do need to be concerned with what CAN change, and that would be the things that have yet to happen. I even emailed (*) tonight, to tell her exactly how she hurt me and what has been going on in relation to that. Can I control how she responds to it? No, but at least I will know that I did my part.
So, I got out of bed, I took a shower, and I went to clinical. I tried to make it just any other day. This will never be just any other day, but every year, I can make it easier.
(*) = Name removed.
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