The first year anniversary of the day i was raped is only a week away. I thought it was time for refelections and thoughts about how i have coped, how i feel now and what has happened since i last wrote.
The last time i wrote was 5 months after the attack. It was a time when i had just heard that the Crown Prosecution Service were not going to go ahead with the trial. I was totally devestated and didn't know what was going to happen to me. I had a choice. I could either give in or heal. It was a very hard road ahead.
I virtually gave up. I was living each day in a blur, nothing felt real. I was coping with everyday things but only doing as much as i needed to to get through. I was existing. I gave up the Victim Support counselling. Part of me felt like i had been rejected by society, so i decided subconsciously to in turn reject society itself. I totally withdrew. The flashbacks started to come back with avengence. This time bringing back memories of childhood that i had been trying for so long to deny and ignore. Nightmares were plaguing my dreams.
I decided to put all my energies into building up Survive, using it as a way of helping myself to find out more about what i was going through so that i could understand and try to help myself. I didn't need anyone else to help me, after all the people who were supposed to deal with these things had let me down badly, and i couldn't trust anyone any more. I was determined to try and do it all on my own.
I worked on Survive most of the day and often well into the night so that i didn't have time to think about how i was feeling, or more often, not feeling. It became an obsession. I was letting the rest of my life slide becuase the only thing i wanted to do was to work on building up Survive to what you see today. Nothing else mattered.
Becuase i had lost interest in my life and had let things slide i was running into financial problems. My ex husband was no support with my children, and his attitude towards me had started to become very aggressive. Every conversation i had with him seemed to develop into a full scale row ending with me stressed and in tears. The children were often upset by having to experience seeing me have these very traumatic flashabcks. One of my children got arrested for having drugs, and i had to deal with the police over that on my own. Another one of my children had probelms in school and refused to go which meant hysterics and struggle every morning, which in the end i just couldn't face. A lot of school was missed just becuase i didn't have the strength to fight back.
One morning in October i struggled out of bed to find a letter from the balifs saying that they were coming to reposses soem of my things becuase i hadn't paid my council tax, and another from my solicitor saying that the court case dealing with the financial side of things from my marriage had been put back another 2 months. I sat and wondered why i was struggling, what was it all for. There was no light, not even a glimmer at the end of the tunnel. Here i was nearly 10 months on and i was feeling just as bad as i did then. I was tired, so sick of existing in a body that i could no longer call my own. Wracked with flashbacks day and night. There was nowhere to run and hide. The thought of everything i was facing was all too much i just didn't want to do it any more. I took a long hard look at myself. I hated me. I hated what he had turned me into. I felt helpless and useless. I couldn't even look after my children. I was a hopeless mother. They would be better off with their dad. I just wanted to escape from everything.
I decided then on a plan. I would fool everyone into thinking i was getting better. I took my children out for the day, and spent a lot of time with them. When Tanos phoned i was happy, although inside i was weeping in desperation. Knowing that what i had planned was going to be so hard on him, and that he would be so devestated. But then i told myself that he like the children would be so much better off without me. All i was doing then was causing everyone so much pain and hurt, and i felt so guilty that i wasn't better, i wasn't able to be the person i wanted to be. He too, would be better off without having to constantly worry and be there for me. I know how much it was taking out of him too, and i couldn't put him through any more.
I'd been prescribed some valium along with many other drugs, but hadn't been taking any of them as i didn't like the way they made me relax and then the flashbacks hit stronger when i wasn't on my guard. I had been to the hospital to see the doctor the week before and he wanted me to have a short stay in hospital to have a much needed rest. I had told him i couldn't leave my children, and how unsafe the thought of hospital made me feel.
That evening i started drinking. Something that i didn't usually do. I was drinking vodka, almost neat, just mixed with a small ammount of coke. As i began to feel hazy and relaxed, i knew the time was right. I found the bottle of valium. They were so small and easy to swallow. I took a couple, and after 30 mins they hadn't had any effect, so i took another 4 or 5. I was scared inside and wanted to feel drowsy before i took more. I kept on drinking, but the alcohol didn't seem to be having an effect either. I swallowed more tablets, washing them down with vodka.
I logged on to Survive and removed the pages all about me, and what had happened. I thought that way Tanos wouldn't have to look at them and be reminded of me after i had gone.
I hugged all of my kids then told them i loved them and needed to go and sleep. I'd showered, and dressed in clean clothes beforehand. I still was awake and aware of what i was doing. I thought maybe the valium wasn't strong enough so took some other anti depressants i had stashed away. I don't know if it was the ammount of vodka i had consumed or the combination of tablets, but the next thing i knew was i was throwing up in the bathroom. This wasn't in my plan. I was beginning to get scared. I remeber then swallowing a handfull of valium. I don't know how many there was, but i know there wasn't that many left in the bottle.
Tanos phoned. That wasn't part of the plan either. He sounded uneasy about something. I was starting to feel drowsy, but i tried to reasure him i was ok, just tired. I realise now that he knew me better than i knew myself. I remeber telling him how much i loved him and how wonderful he had been through all of this.
I felt really dreamy and calm. Kind of floating. Nothing hurt any more. For the first time in 10 months i felt at peace. Tranquility like i had never know. I took more tablets. I liked this feeling. If this is how dying felt then nothing was going to stop me now.
The next thing i remeber is Tanos shaking me telling me to keep breathing. Everything else was a blur. I vaguely remeber the casualty department at the hospital, and the mask on my face. I do remeber them saying i couldn't go home that i had to stay in hospital and screaming that i couldn't becuase of there being men in the same ward, and not feeling safe.
I remeber waking up in bed and seeing Tanos sleeping in the chair by my bed with the screens all pulled round so that the other ladies in the 4 bedded bay wouldn't get a shock in the morning when they woke up.
That was the point when the realisation that i had not managed to succeed in doing what i had so desperatly wanted to to eascape the pain hurt and sheer desperation of not being able to go on another minute longer in the nightmare that my life had become. That was when the tears came.
The feelings of uselessness increased as i knew i couldn't even escape. I had messed that up like the rest of everythign i tried to do. I felt so guilty knowing how worried Tanos was, and what i had subjected him and the children to.
The day past in a haze. Evidentally i had taken so many valium that my breathing was really depressed when i got to hospital. Luckily i had vomited they said otherwise it could have been more serious in view of taking the other pills.
The doctors persuaded me that i needed help, which really involved a stay as an inpatient in hospital. I explained how i was so worried about being admited to a general psychiatric ward, and how scared the people with mental illness like schizophrenia made me. I explained that i needed to feel safe. They assured me that i would be ok in this hospital. They said that i could have a side room all to myself where i could close the door feel safer, knowing i had that option.
The night before i was admitted to hospital, they allowed me out so that i could collect what i needed and make arrangements for my children to be looked after properly. That was when my attacker phoned. I couldn't believe it was him. How did he know? He told me that he loved me and that anything he could do to help all i had to do was call. I was dazed, stunned and he said he knew i had tried to kill myself. That is why he was calling. he knew i was going into hospital, and which one. It had to be a dream, this couldn't be real. That night was just flashback after flashback.
Somewhere in my head i had this idea that i was more likely to be attacked by a male in a phsychiatric ward than in any other place. After all they were mentally ill, and they couldn't be watched 24 hours night and day. Who could tell what they were capable of doing.
I was so upset when i was admitted. I felt so alone, so small and terrified. My room was nice, but it didn't feel that safe. I found i could push the armchair up against the door balancing the waste bin on the arm and it would fall and make a noise if anyone opened the door, thus acting as an early warning alarm if someone did try and get in. It offered me a small sense of security, but not much.
It was later in the afternoon when Tanos had gone that i realised that i was in the wrong place, that i wasn't safe, and they weren't going to offer me the right kind of help. On my primary nurses instructions i went and sat in the day room. I was tense and nervous, continually on my guard. The stress must have triggered a flashback and i remeber this nurse shaking me and telling me to pull myself together and stop being so silly. This was someone who was supposed to understand and be able to help me. I ran from the room, shaking and sobbing. If they thought i was being silly maybe i was, maybe i was blowing everything out of proportion, maybe i was stupid and childish and just feeling sorry for myself.
The next minute she barged into my room and got hold of my arm and frogmarched me down the corridor to relaxation classes, where she assured me i would learn to relax and it would help! I felt about 5 years old. I couldn't relax at all. I lay on a bed, rigid, my haands tightly clenched into balls, my knees drawn up under me and i couldn't stop the shaking or my teeth chattering. Flashback after flashback hit me, bombarding me with memories too real, too powerful. I was confused and alone in a scary place where i didn't want to be. I sat on my bed, looking at photos of Tanos and my kids, cuddling animal-my soft cuddly dolphin.
I wandered out into the corridor to be confronted by my nurse again. She was so rude, so abrupt asking me if i was over my panic attacks. I told her they were flashbacks, not panic attacks. She said they were the same thing. It didn't inspire me with much confidence.
Nightime came. The night staff were so nice. I warned them about the door and what i was going to do becuase they were checking on me every 20 minutes, and i didn't want to wake up the whole ward if the bin came toppling down. I listened to music in an attempt to induce sleep, but i didn't feel safe. The night staff made me warm drinks and sat on my bed and talked to me, trying to reasure me that i would be safe to sleep, that they wouldn't let anyone come near me. But i couldn't trust them. I couldn't trust anyone.
The next morning they started me on medication. Within an hour of taking it i was sleepy and drowsy. I didn't like feeling this way. I couldn't stay awake, and spent most of the day drifting in and out of sleep on my bed with my door firmly closed and the chair against it.
That day and night passed in a blur. The next day though i felt more awake, and more relaxed. That was until my primary nurse came barging into my room to tell me that i had to gather my things together becuase they were moving me to a 4 bedded bay. They said i needed to be more social, that i needed to be around other people. I argued that the only reason i agreed to coem into the hospital was becuase the doctors had promised me i could have a room on my own right beside the nurses station so i would feel safe. She kept telling me i would be safe, that no one was going to hurt me, that i was just being silly. Why couldn't i make them understand that i needed to have this feeling of safety? I wouldn't have that in a 4 bedded bay where the only protection was being able to pull curtains around my bed. How could i lock them? How could i barricade myself against the outside world?
They sent for the doctor to talk to me. I told them i wasn't going to stay. I phoned Tanos and asked him to come and pick me up that i was going home. I know i was in no real fit state to be alone and at home, but there was no way that i was putting myself at risk just becuase they didn't understand.
I ended up signing my own discharge, and sitting outside on a bench waiting in the freezing cold for Tanos to arrive. He was wonderful. He hugged me and told me it was all going to be ok. He bundled meinto the car and went back to the ward to see what it was all about.
He was there when they promised me that i could stay in a room on my own, and he knew that was the only way they could get me to go in the first place. He talked to the doctor and the nurse involved. It seems that the doctor had decided to try bullying tactics to get me to respond. That is why everyone seemed so heartless and uncaring. It seemed there had been a breakdown in communications somewhere along the line. Seems that no-one should have made a promise about the room, and no one had thought to tell me upon admission that ward policy meant that i could have been moved at any time.
They were treating my flashbacks as panic attacks. The doctor upon questioning really hadn't got a clue how to tell Tanos how to handle flashbacks. They did however say that they were referring me to a specialist PTSD doctor for assesment, and were going to arrange counselling meanwhile.
The CPN (community psychiatric nurse) arranged for social services to be involved to help me with some of the problems with the kids, and to try and help me establish a routine. I was assesed by a counsellor and offered counselling at a local mental health respite hospital, which i started just before Christmas 1998.
My CPN was good at first, calling in once a week to check i was ok, and to help me deal with any problems that had arisen during the week. Social services assigned me a social worker who comes as much and as often as i need her to. Unfortunately the CPN's visits have become erratic and now non-existant, maybe becuase i am getting help now from other sources, but i haven't seen or heard from her for over 8 weeks now.
Just after New Year i started weekly psychotherapy. This is as well as the weekly counselling sessions. It is very intense, and very traumatic.
Survive meanwhile has grown above all my wildest hopes and dreams. The mailing support group has well over 40 subscribers, and is a wonderful place, full of sensitive loving people who understand and care about each other. I know i owe all of the people on the list my undying thanks for making it such a great safe place to heal. I don't know what i would have doen without them at times. It has been a lifeline for me.
Here i am now with just a week to go till the first anniversary of the rape. I am dissapointed that i am not fully recovered, but i have also learnt so much about rape and it's devastating effects on your life. I have coem a long way, but sometimes it feels like i have so far still to go.
I never know from day to day how i am going to feel. Some days are worse than others. Some days i just can't face gettign up in the morning. Some days i wonder why am i bothering, and what is it all for. The mood swings are awful. One minute i can be feeling really good, the next i'm deep in the depths of depression. Although i still do think of suicide i know for me it is not an option any more. I try and take each new day as it comes, and when it is over i know i have survived another day.
I'm slowly trying to take control of my life back, but it is not easy. I still have no self confidence. I live most of my time hidden behind a mask. The outside world sees someone who can smile, who can join in a conversation, someone who looks like she is doing ok and coping with all that life throws at her. Inside however there is a different person, it is the real tiana that only one person ever sees. It is the frightened scared little girl who has no self confidence, no self esteem, who cries herself to sleep at night, who is wracked by flashbacks and bad dreams. The littl girl who needs to be loved and cared for, who hates herself and constantly punishes herself. The litle girl who was never allowed to be a little girl, who wants to feel happiness not constant pain and hurt. The little girl who wants to be able to grow into a healthy happy woman, who can give love and learn to trust people again.
So that is where i am on my healing journey. I hope that by this time next year i will be able to write that i am fit well and free from all the bad things in my life. I do know however that it will take as long as it needs, and that no matter how hard i try i can't rush it, that i must be patient and not expct miracles, or magic spells. I know also that i must try and do the things i so freely tell others to do that will help. I am good at giving advice, but hopeless at doing things myself. I know i have to learn to ask for help, which is very hard for me still to do, and also let those that offer to help do just that. I know too that unless i deal with the issues that are causing the pain, no matter how distressing or traumatic they may be that i won't be able to heal.
So looking back over what i have written i can see that i have coem further than i at first thought. I know what i have to do, and i have the means available to me to do that. I can't erase what happened that day, but i can move forwards and ease the pain.
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Last updated 20th March 2000