Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Yesterday I Flipped The F**k Out

*Warning, there is a lot of swearing in this post* Please also note, my children were at daycare. Thought that was important to throw in there....

I flipped out yesterday. No, I didn't just flip out, I FLIPPED THE FUCK OUT.

I can honestly say that I have never felt so angry in my entire life. This was the first time I have ever gotten truly angry over something that had put me in the "victim" category. I don't usually get angry. I am usually able to look and feel past the anger and admit to whatever feeling caused me to feel angry in the first place (remember the post about anger being a powerful secondary defensive emotion to a primary feeling?). I usually have no problem admitting to whatever vulnerable and hurt feeling I am experiencing, and therefore avoiding the feeling of anger altogether.

I think the last time I reacted in anger was when I finally put my ex mother in law in her place, and it had taken me twelve years to finally get to that point.  Other than that, I can't even remember the last time I have really gotten angry. I can't even remember the last time I've raised my voice, not even in the typical "mom is frustrated and angry at her misbehaving children" kind of way.

I made it through my hellish childhood into adulthood without killing either of my parents. Be proud. I managed to respectfully disown them without flipping out. My husband walked away from me and nonchalantly cast my children out of his life, and still I never raised my voice at him. I pretty much just cowered away from him court. Hell I even nicely packed up all his belongings when he left, and put them outside when he asked me too. I made it through the torment that my brothers rained down upon me when I disowned my parents without freaking out. When one brother told me to go drown (kill) myself  and do the family a favor, I decided that the last words I would ever speak to him would come from a place of love.

Note the date, its been almost exactly a year since I lost my siblings. And yes, I used the wrong "your."

When the man after my ex, the man that I thought I would be with forever, told me that my kids and I had been thrown out like trash and he wasn't going to be the garbage man that picked us up, and then proceeded to moved out of my house the night before my 30th birthday, I freaked out and made some crazy phone call to my attorney trying to figure out what to do as he moved his, and my, belongings out of my house, yet I never raised my voice towards this man. Heck, even after the two nutcase neighbors threatened to run me over with their car when I had the audacity to ask them about the money they owe me, I still shoveled their driveway. I have a very long history of being able to control my temper, probably because I really don't have a temper. Until yesterday that is. Yesterday, I lost it. I lost my fucking mind.



I was making phone calls and setting up meetings for my not-for-profit when I was transferred to the social worker that had previously been involved in my stalking and rape case. I have talked to this woman quite a few times, and never really gotten anywhere with her information wise. I don't know how many of you have read my most recent XOJane article, "I regret reporting my rape," but if you haven't I suggest clicking on that link and reading it before you read the rest of this post.

Remember how I said that the rape had finally broke me? Like I had said in the "How It All Began" post, it had all just been too much, for too long, and I finally broke. Yet even then, I still never felt angry. Hurt, betrayed, scared, dirty, humiliated, worthless, overwhelmed and under loved, but never angry.

In the weeks prior to the rape that broke me, I had been stalked relentlessly by my ex and the stranger man. I made phone calls in the double digits to every place I could think of that might be able to help me. Eight trips to the police station. Two calls to the states attorney's office. A meeting with the police chief and my attorney. 911 calls that went unanswered. An order of protection. I was getting no where, the message of "we don't care" was coming across loud and clear, and yet, I still only felt scared and hurt. Frustrated for sure, but not angry.

When they all failed me, and I was brutally raped, I still did not feel angry. My heart broke for the women that I knew would be following in my footsteps, enduring the same things I had. I wanted to protect them from what I had gone through. I wanted to make a change for them by founding my not-for-profit, but for myself, I never really sought justice. I didn't feel angry. Irritated yes, but not truly angry. I never felt like I needed justice for myself, I just wanted to help other people.

So anyways, yes, I regret reporting my rape. Big time. The whole thing was so grossly mishandled by the authorities that it is laughable. I knew that it was being handled wrong, but I was so broken at that time, that I couldn't feel anything but the pain and despair of being raped. I was dealing with so much inner turmoil then, that dealing with police misconduct was so far out of my capabilities that I just shoved it down. I don't think I realized how much I shoved it down until yesterday when it came roaring to the surface and I FLIPPED THE FUCK OUT.

The social worker basically flat out told me a bunch of information that I should have known a long time ago. Information that had I known about when I had made all of the stalking reports to the police, might have saved me from being raped. That might have prevented me from now continually waking up every night from a terrifying nightmare, only to realize that the horror, is real.

I got home, and I FLIPPED THE FUCK OUT.

You guys, I lost my fucking mind. I barely made it in the door, and I just stopped. I think I actually threw my purse at the wall. I very clearly remember saying "You have got to be fucking kidding me. Are you fucking serious? Are you fucking serious? Seriously. Are you fucking kidding me?"

Then I started crying. Crying turned into sobbing, which turned into wailing from the core of my soul. My whole body was shaking and covered in tears, snot, and running make-up. It was the exact same ugly cry I had right after the rape. Before I knew it, I was yelling at my ceiling. I wasn't yelling at God, but rather at the whole world. Yelling quickly escalated into screaming.

I was screaming at the top of my lungs about everything that had ever gone wrong in my entire life. I was screaming at my parents. I was screaming at the police. I was screaming at that man. I was screaming at my ex for leaving us. I was screaming at the social workers who kept sending me home as a child. I was screaming at all the people that had never noticed that I was living in a hell home. I was screaming at my brothers. I was screaming at the whole entire world.

At one point I walked over and started screaming through the walls at the two nutcase neighbors "CAN YOU FUCKING HEAR ME OVER THERE YOU TWO FUCKERS? HUH YOU FAKE ASS, FAKE BLOND, FUCKING UGLY BITCH!? CAN YOU FUCKING HEAR ME!? BECAUSE YOU TWO CAN JUST GO TO FUCKING HELL. BOTH OF YOU!!!" Then I went right back to screaming at my ceiling. "You should have protected me you FUCKING POLICE! It was your JOB! I am WORTH SOMETHING! Doesn't anybody see the good in me!? I am a good person and you let me get broken! Don't you even care that I'm breaking!? Don't you even care that I am a human being and I'm hurt and YOU LET IT HAPPEN!! STOP FUCKING BREAKING ME!!!"

Then I sat down on the couch, nearly convulsing in sobs, where I continued to cry until all that I had left in me was an exhausted whimper.

It was not pretty.

After what seemed like an eternity I picked my now exhausted, sorry ass up off the floor, fired off a few angry text messages to Mr. Attorney Man about the information I had found out, and washed my face.


I looked later and the two nutcase neighbors weren't even home, so I guess I'll just continue to try and be nice to them.

I felt near comatose the rest of the night. The guy I'm sort of dating had no idea what was going on, yet was being overly sweet and kept trying to get me to call him. He called me a few times, calls which I immediately sent to my voicemail. I was in a terrible mood, and the last thing I wanted to do was drag someone down with me. If there is one thing I have learned in life, it is to not speak in anger, and I felt like daggers were going to come out of my eyes towards anyone that talked to me last night.



An hour later....


Another hour later....



I put the kids to bed early, climbed into bed with a glass of wine and entire tray of brownies, and fell asleep.

This morning, the sun came up, it was a new day. I showered off the anger, I felt the feelings that I was masking yesterday, and I accepted the fact that I am deeply hurt. Deeply, deeply, hurt. A little bit broken, a little bit wounded, but not un fixable.

Broken just means that you need to take some time to put the pieces back together. I'm broken, but I'm not demolished. I'm taking some time to dwell on the feelings that I am living with, and deciding my next step. I feel betrayed by a broken and uncompassionate system, a system designed to protect me, a system that failed me.

I'm not angry anymore, but I'm definitely feeling a little more weary. For once in my life, I feel like I want justice, and I'll admit, that scares me a little bit.

So there you have it folks. I spent yesterday as an absolute crazy person. It doesn't make me look good, it doesn't make me proud, but you know what? This is trauma. I promised you guys from the beginning that I was going to be real, that I was going to be raw. No holding back, no presenting only the parts of my recovery that make me look good, while holding back the parts that make me look bad. Nope, I knew when I started this blog that I needed to be prepared to let my ugly hang out. This is what trauma looks like. This what recovering from abuse looks like. These are the cracks where the ugly seeps out of a rape survivor. It's not pretty. It's not easy. Sometimes it is nothing more than screaming from the depths of your soul.

But like I always say, beauty blooms in the cracks of life. Good will come of this, healing will prevail. My soul will breathe and my life will go on.

Thank you all for being on this journey with me.



Photo Credit Exploding Head: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ruminatrix/

29 comments:

  1. Wow. I'm pretty bummed your neighbors weren't there to hear that. That would've been GOLDEN.
    But I guess it would've only caused more drama.

    I'm glad you had that cathartic experience. Sometimes things have to get ugly before they can get better.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm oddly bummed that they weren't home to hear it either. I finally said everything I wanted too lol!

      Delete
  2. What caused such a visceral reaction? Can you do anything with what you learned?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's a good question. In all the things I've been through, I'm not sure why this was the one that flipped my lid. Maybe just too much for too long. Yea, I think I might need to get an attorney and sue the city. Fun times

      Delete
    2. Well get the kind of attorney that does stuff like that. My Attorney Man does not

      Delete
  3. I'm sure it's very mature and evolved that you can go past the anger, do not pass Go, do not collect $200 and straight on to the original emotion (silly Monopoly reference; mature and evolved is the opposite of what I would be). But is that a choice or is it just how you deal?

    Having suffered what you did as a child you probably got the message from your parents and then your a$$husband that you didn't have a right to be angry. Abusers want to take everything away. Even your right to feel your own emotions. Anger, while sometimes ugly, can be cleansing. Like a fire burning out all of the ugliness and fear. Sometimes getting pissed off and screaming your head off is exactly the answer to releasing all of the pent up pain and frustration that's eating a hole in you (or some of it; though I 100% agree with you about not taking your anger out on other people; words cannot be retrieved, once said).

    So I'm wondering...how do you feel? Any better? Did it help at all?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I felt....exhausted. I would like to say that I felt better, clearer in the head, and free, but really, I don't think I did.

      I know that its not good to bottle up anger, and I truly believe that sometimes you have to let it out in an appropriate fashion and deal with it, but for me, I don't know. Maybe I'm broken or have been programmed wrong, but anger just doesn't do much for me.

      Maybe I will have to try again ;)

      Delete
    2. Bruised, maybe. But not broken. You are perfectly and wonderfully made. And you are strong and resilient. You have to do what works for you. If anger doesn't work then go about it your way. Healing will come. And no matter what, you will be okay. <3

      Delete
    3. Thank you hun :) Here's to hoping!!

      Delete
  4. I think everyone needs to scream once in a while. The failures of the system make me deeply angry, have driven me to write in anger many times. I don't think anger is all bad, actually--sometimes, people need to hear the raw, visceral reaction. It's the thing that gets them moving.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Well it definitely got me moving, thats for sure!

      Delete
  5. Good for you! That anger was probably just what your body needed!

    It is too bad you couldn't sue the police...sounds like they didn't follow the law in their handling of the case perhaps? Maybe that is just what is needed to keep them from doing this to others. But I know that takes money...rotten b**tards!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I went back and met with the social worker again today. Her exact words were "Sue them. You want to make a difference, then sue them. Make some noise and cost them some money. That will get things to change around here."

      Yikes

      Delete
  6. Do you have an email to receive private messages?

    ReplyDelete
  7. Anger is an important human emotion. It tells us that we are being or have been violated. There should be no shame in feeling it.

    Those who have been abused are often afraid to feel anger. We are often masters of disguising our anger as depression or alcoholism or worse. Or we learn to direct our anger outwardly in ways that hurt ourselves and others, and begin down the path of becoming abusers ourselves.

    It's critical that we (meaning every human being) learn to express our anger appropriately. And by that, I mean calling Mr. Attorney Man, as you did. I don't know exactly what information the social worker withheld from you, but if she didn't tell you something she was legally obligated to disclose and it led to the rape, Mr. Attorney Man should most definitely be involved!

    As for ranting and screaming, they're entirely appropriate responses to the situation so long as the innocent are spared the scene. Much better than holding the feelings in, so long as you don't stay in that place too long. Taking a shower and letting it all go after the rage is also good.

    In other words, I'd say that what you did was entirely mature and appropriate to the situation.

    Now on to the future: What are you going to do with this experience? Is there a recourse you can take against the social worker, and do you even want to expend the energy on it, or is there a way that you can use this experience to help others so that they might be able to avoid the same sort of trauma that you've suffered?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This, exactly this. I think anger got trained out of you. Hugs to you.

      Delete
    2. Thank you for your long response!! I think I answered all the questions and made comments that go very nicely with what you said, in my above comments. :)

      I'm sorry that is a terrible response, I'm just completely drained today.

      Thanks for caring guys

      Delete
  8. Those social workers sigh, I have had the bad luck of having to deal with them in CPS when I reported child abuse and I wish I hadn't really. They are a total waste of time, clueless and ignorant and nothing ever comes out of it on the contrary you get in trouble.

    My email is jonsnowgmt at gmail dot com if you want to hear the story.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You must be Ned Stark's bastard.

      Delete
    2. Anytime, send it on over.

      notmyshametobear@gmail.com

      Delete
  9. :( I'm glad you got it all out.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Hmmmm. It is not like you to not respond for an entire day. I hope you are alright.

    It is extremely exhausting after letting it out; but, much less than holding onto to it and carrying it around with you. for. ages. I admire your strength and tenacity. You continue to move forward - and who doesn't suffer a few hiccups along the way.

    The current guy seems to be understanding of your space and he's got a sense of humor. Yes, let us discuss how very cool he is. LOL

    Keep taking good care of yourself. You had a meltdown, probably a long time coming. The clouds are clearing and it is a new day. A new day in your new life. Lean hard on those around you. Kick ass and take names when necessary. And put it all in your book. hahaha

    Much love and a really huge hug for you today from the east coast

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks hun, thanks for caring. I posted a new post today.

      Delete
  11. I can't think of anything else to say that hasn't already been said. So I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking about you and I'm sending you lots of positive energy and hugs.

    ReplyDelete
  12. While it's heart-wrenching to read of your horrible experiences, congratulations on finally getting angry. Looking back to the time after I left my abuser, It wasn't until I allowed myself to be angry that I transitioned from merely trying to make it through the day to actually thriving. It was my anger that helped me decide that if I allowed myself to live in fear and shame, then those who hurt me would would get exactly what they wanted. And Damn it! I was not going to allow them to win!

    I was eavesdropping on my children, now grown, at a family gathering a while back. My oldest, who is in the military, said his job is to fight for those who can't fight for themselves, and that I taught him that. They went on to say that one the things they most remember growing up is how I never let anyone intimidate me, that I always stood up for myself and for them (even if they were wrong).

    If you proceed with a lawsuit, you will call a lot of attention to yourself without the anonymity you have here. There will be many times when you may feel discouraged. I truly hope your new-found anger will give you the fortitude and motivation to fight well, and fight hard. Your kids will learn from you.

    Two articles you might find interesting:
    http://www.spring.org.uk/2012/03/the-upside-of-anger-6-psychological-benefits-of-getting-mad.php

    http://dondwest.hubpages.com/hub/Virtue-of-Anger

    As for being broken, I'll leave you with a small quote that has given me comfort many a time over the years: “When the Japanese mend broken objects, they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something's suffered damage and has a history it becomes more beautiful.”― Barbara Bloom

    Hugs to you, and, again, thank you for having the strength and courage to share your story.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It sounds like you have raised some awesome kids. Way go awesome momma!!

      I hope one day my kids look back and are able to say I taught them well :)

      Thank you for sharing the articles, I am going to read them right now :)

      So glad that you are here. Hugs!!!!

      Delete