As I was leaving the hospital I was handed a brochure, it was for women who had been raped. A support group with a phone number. No other information was provided. No advocate to tell me what to do next. They just sent me on my way after the worst night of my entire life. I was a mess. The weeks and months that followed were a world wind and although lots of people told me I should go to that support group, I wasn’t ready to talk about my trauma to anyone, let alone a group of women I didn’t know.
I remember going to the hospital and entering a conference room. There were at least 10 women in this room that felt a little like a dungeon. We went around the room and said our names and why we were there. All I could think about was that this was a room full of women who had been raped. I mean that was the main reason we were there, why did we have to go around and say that again.
Each woman's story was worse than the one before and by the time I left I thought, shit, I don’t need this, my story isn’t nearly as intense as these ladies. So, I never went back.
Unfortunately, I have a conflict this week and won't be able to serve as Neil's co-host. I encourage you to watch, however. It should be a fascinating discussion.
You can watch the recording on Facebook, Twitter*, LinkedIn, YouTube, Instagram* and Neil's website.
*We won't know the exact urls for Twitter or Instagram until we go live. These links go to Neil's Twitter and my Instagram.
I tried several one-on-one therapists after that. I obviously wasn’t ready for therapy because after telling them my story and what I was doing with my life each and every one said that I was doing just fine and I didn’t need therapy. That was ok with me at the time because I didn’t like a single therapist I went to anyway.
Eventually after about four therapists, I gave up. Every time I got a new therapist I had to relive the trauma that I went through and start from the beginning. It was horrible and even more traumatizing. I decided that I would rather feel empty, numb and emotionless than navigate this terrible system that people called mental health services.
I want to make sure to say that I am very clear when I say, first this was 30 years ago, and second, I received lots of great care right after I got raped from SANE nurses and victim services. That wasn’t my issue. The lack of advocacy and resources given to women facing unimaginable trauma is the thing that I hang my hat on.
I spent years sweeping my trauma under the rug, advocating for others as a way to heal myself. I call it swimming in the pain. Using what happened to me as a reason to help others, screaming at the top of my lungs for more laws and resources and services for people just like me. What I came to find out is that this is not a form of therapy and although the advocacy work was fulfilling, it didn’t get to the core of my trauma.
My trauma was so deeply rooted in ALL the things I suffered from as a child and through my teen years, that the rape was just the shield I used to mask everything else leading up what was really defining me as a human being. Behind the rape were years and years of dysfunction, abuse and scars that I simply didn’t want to face.
Many years later after I had become a wife and a mother, I realized I was just not functioning to my full capacity. I was having panic attacks and depressive episodes that were greatly affecting my life. I tried to sit on sexual violence boards and continue to do my advocacy work, but it was getting harder and harder to accomplish.
The pinnacle of my depression came when I was out of state at a conference, and I could not leave my room. It was a National Sexual Violence conference, and I was completely paralyzed with fear of seeing anyone or doing anything. I knew at that moment that I needed help, that I could no longer tackle this on my own and that without some intervention I was probably going to die.
I was lucky, and that is the sad part. Luck is how I was able to find the right fit for me. I worked at United Way of Greater Milwaukee and Waukesha County (and still do). I knew we funded a sexual assault service provider. I sat on a board with the executive director of that organization, who also happened to be a licensed therapist, and I told her what was happening with me. She let me know that the Healing Center offered free one on one counseling for survivors of sexual abuse. She encouraged me to call and get some help.
I thought that was my answer, but alas more barriers stood in the way. When I finally got the courage to make that phone call, I was told that there was a 3-6 month waiting list to see a therapist. It had taken everything I had to make that first phone call and I immediately retreated and decided that therapy wasn’t right for me.
I never even entertained the idea of taking medication because all I had ever known were the stigma behind doing that. I never even thought to tell my primary care physician what was happening with me. I was stuck with the idea that taking medication was bad, addictive or weak. All things I came to find out later in life were not true at all.
I got the call several months later that a spot had opened up for counseling and at the time I was on a self destructive path. My anxiety was at an all time high, I was paranoid and terrified to live each day. The fear of myself is what drove me to walk through those doors.
The first day I walked in the atmosphere was so inviting. It was quiet and music was playing, there were couches and a kitchen with coffee. There was a little library, and women were sitting and reading. It was very different from all the other places I had visited before that. I almost instantly felt warm and safe and at home.
When I met my therapist, Trish, I was reluctant and nervous and quite frankly guarded. I told her I wasn’t even sure if I needed therapy. She let me take my time and allowed me to work through my feelings at my own pace. I spent 12 weeks with her in a very intensive program. I started to feel better, to understand ways to cope with all of my anxieties and triggers and depression. I learned how to channel my energy in positive ways and realized that my story was my story and only that. I found that advocating on behalf of other survivors worked a lot better when I looked at the issue of victim blaming and sexual violence, as a whole and not just the sum of MY parts.
I was so successful in therapy that I ended up becoming an organizer of one of the biggest events in Milwaukee around sexual violence awareness, Denim Day. Eventually, I won the first Thriver Award from the same organization that gave me back my life through therapy.
The journey to get help is a difficult one, different for everyone I think, but I doubt it will ever be easy.
Struggling to find the right fit with the right person can be challenging and defeating, but the ability to understand that mental wellness is important and vital to well-being eventually got me to the right destination. I truly credit the Healing Center with my continued success to being the best person I can in this life and to helping as many survivors as possible through advocacy work.
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