Anything But Typical

I'm here today on the one year anniversary of my sexual assault. One year. I would like to start opening up and sharing my progress for those who may be in a similar situation, or are a loved one of a rape victim. 


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The Short Version

I'm in my early thirties and recently left my job to stay home with my toddler. I've struggled with depression and anxiety for many years have been out of therapy for a few months after being in it for about 3 years. I don't usually tell people much about my family or my relationship with my mom, which I have renamed 'Mama Drama' because I think it often freaks people out, or they think I'm being negative or a bummer. I don't socialize often these days because I find it a bit difficult to make new friends, and most of my established friends are working most of the time, live in a different town, and don't have children so they are on a completely different schedule. 

 The short story is that my mom is codependent and/or is in what I consider an abusive relationship. My parents divorced when I was 8. My dad has manic depression/ bipolar disorder and has never been very stable. My mom then had a three year relationship with a very violent and abusive man who was an alcoholic and a heroin addict. We got out because he was killed in jail. 

My mom then entered into a relationship with a man who was not an drug addict and had a respectable job, but who is extremely narcissistic. My older brother and younger stepsister moved out around this time and I was the last child at home.

My mom's new husband was very controlling and horrible to my mom and I, and was sometimes physically abusive - pushing her or holding her against walls, and beat her up badly a few times. I think he may have been diagnosed with a personality disorder at some point, but I'm not sure. They've been married twice, split up, and got back together more times than I can count, due to his cheating, controlling, and abusive behavior.

Throughout most of this, I was the emotional support person for my mom. It was very difficult and stressful, on top of dealing with our crazy living situations. I eventually told my mom that I couldn't talk with her about her husband anymore. It was too hard for me, and I was tired of having him blame me for their relationship problems. She was very angry with me. I thought if I didn't talk with my mom about him at all, then he couldnt blame me for their fights. I don't think it has worked this way. 

The last time he and my mom split up lasted about a year. He stalked her and eventually she answered one of his calls and she immediately got back together with him. She packed up all her stuff at 3 am, sent a mass email to family saying they got back together, moved out of state and didn't contact anyone for about two months. 

After many years of dealing with all of this, I have decided to no longer have contact with my mom's husband. I couldn't take the drama and manipulation anymore. I don't want him to have access to my daughter.

They are still together at this time, and I still do not have contact with him. Its been about two years. 

At this time, my mom is extremely angry with me for not 'working on my relationship with her husband.' Many of our conversations end up with her trying to guilt me about not seeing him. I would like to be closer with my mom, but we rarely connect at all anymore. The only times I can even remember connecting with her in my life were when I was basically counseling her about her messed up relationships and her childhood traumas. She is very competitive with me. She blames me for not being able to see me, because I won't let her husband come along. I would really like to have a better relationship with my mom. I love her and I miss her so much, especially now that I have a child. She feels that I shut her out of my life because I don't want contact with her husband. My grandmother supports my decision, my grandfather thinks I need to 'forgive and forget.' I'm not close to any of my siblings.

My mom is extremely religious and feels that the man is the head of the household. She thinks all of my problems are because I haven't accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior. She doesn't consider that it's possibly because my dad is crazy, my first stepfather was physically abusive, my second stepfather was (is) emotionally abusive, and my mom is more interested in maintaining her relationship with abusive partners than in protecting and nurturing her family.

That's the short version.  


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Meant To Live

This is for all of us who are with The Band that have ever thought about ending it

I know you've heard people tell you your life will get better. I also know that, right now, you may not be able to see that. So, through the tears I'm shedding, I want to tell you a story about what just happened.

First, I need to give you a little background. When I was a teenager, I dated this boy we'll call Steve. Steve suffered from severe bouts of depression, and his struggle with self-harm was a huge impact on my own. He would tell me he saw no purpose in life; no future, and happiness was not worth seeking out because it made the pain that was sure to follow so much worse. After his suicide attempt, he still didn't seem to be getting he help he needed, and we finally fizzled out after his apathy led to infidelity and the inability to maintain any sort of relationship.

We lost touch over the years, but recently he sought me out on social media. And I honestly didn't even recognize him. The pallid, dead-eyed boy that I had shared so much pain with when we were young was now a clean-cut young man with smiling eyes and a grin to match. Going through his photos told me most of what I needed to know, and he soon filled in the gaps. He'd stopped drinking, gotten a job, and married one of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen. And that's not an exaggeration. They have the most beautiful baby boy, a house in the city, and a simple, yet happy life.

After our initial message exchange, we didn't chat too much. But today I recieved a message out of the blue that he was going to be in my town for the afternoon, and would like me to go to lunch with him and his family. And that, The Band, is why I'm crying right now. But not because I'm sad. I just got back from seeing him and meeting his wonderful little family, and I am filled with so much hope. If he had succeeded in ending it when he thought he wanted to, he would be missing out this amazing life that he had never thought possible

And that's it. That's the kind of proof I need. When the darkness gets so suffocating, so impenetrable that we can't even fathom there ever being light again, that especially is when we need to hold on til tomorrow. Depression tries to tell you that tomorrow will hold nothing but the same emptiness. But no one, not even the monster that is Depression, can possibly know what tomorrow will hold. So please hold on, The Band. Because no matter how hopeless today may feel, I've seen with my own eyes that things can, and do, get so much better. Keep this in mind, and keep it close.

Because I know you can find the life that you were meant to live.

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Never Forget

All you have to do is kiss me, and I will smile. All you have to do is hug me, and I will lose all my worries. All you have to do is say "I do," and I will be yours forever.

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In Hell

Hello The Band! This is my first time posting. 

Have been mentally ill all my life. Just looked normal on the outside and could distract you long enough with humor. 

At age 18, I was in an accident and lapsed into a coma, but my troubles started well before that. 

I had trichotillomania at 14. Yes, I pulled my hair out - one strand at a time. It made my anxiety go away. 

College failure, then back again. Second marriage now. The "I Hate Being Married" post from Band Back Together hangs on my wall. My husband is a nice enough man and a good provider. He just has terrible hoarding and undiagnosed Asperger's Syndrome. His family and he are ULTRA FUNCTIONAL, so it just makes it harder - there's nothing wrong with them. We went to counseling before marriage and he decided the problem was me, initial patient.

I still pull my hair in very stressful situations. I have to use organin dust to hide bald spots. 

Friday, I was arrested. That's why I'm writing. My best friend was bitten by a dog and the dog's owner then pushed my friend down a flight of stairs. I called 911. The dispatcher was making me so frustrated and I was so scared of the guys - friends of the dog's owner - standing around my car that I cursed at her. I called her a "fucking idiot." The police came to my house I'd thought to investigate the dog bite and assault of my friend. 

Instead, the cops arrested me for "abusing the 911 system" and being "rude to the 911 dispatcher." They never read me my Miranda rights; they hauled me off to jail. The cops ripped my sweater. They stomped my foot. I have bruises up and down my body from them smashing my head and body on my car.


I am humiliated; alone in this world. I've been to the crisis center twice. I am so paranoid now - I don't trust anyone. 

I've always had trust issues; my father's an alcoholic, my mother a control freak. My trust issues are worse now. I feel like everyone's against me. Some people actually are. The friend who'd been bitten by the dog, the one I'd called 911 for tells me I should learn to keep my big mouth shut. 

I'm exhausted and alone and can't stay at work. Can't even go in some days. 

Today, I was told I have Social Avoidant Personality Disorder. The police want to make this event go to trial. 

The police brought the dispatcher I'd yelled at to my arrest. She is was leaning on the police car and rode in the police car with me to detention. I'm devastated - I feel like I'm floating. 

I feel like I did as a little kid with all the chaos in my life - no one knew the truth - or no one was telling me; they were all trying to trip me up. 

I'm sorry if I sound like a victim. 

I didn't know what else to do tonight but write. 

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