Going out on a limb here and making a bold statement that has recently come to light in my mind very strongly. I do not trust men. I wish that I did. I wish that I had a better feeling when I was around them. It's difficult to explain...it really is, but my anxieties rise through the roof something terrible when I am around men. My Father was a wonderful example to me. We weren't emotionally close. He grew up in the depression, and didn't really speak very often, but there was a reverence about him. At least to me, the youngest, I knew for certain that he loved me and that he always had my best interest at heart. I have four brothers. Again, our age span is so great that we didn't really know each other very well. I have somewhat of a relationship with three of them now. My one brother lives out of state, and has done since I was 18. There is such a generation gap between us all that even though I love them dearly I do not feel close to them.
I felt differently about my husband when I first met him. He was someone I could talk to. We could talk together for hours, and it really didn't matter what the subject was. Just the fact that we talked and got along was wonderful to me. Looking back now however, I see how this was more like a friendship rather than a romance, but I enjoyed being around him and spending time in his company. After our marriage and time passed, this trust began to dimmer. I no longer felt a sense of "ease" in his presence but my heart would begin to race when I knew it was time for him to come home from work. When I say it would race, it wasn't in a good way. I hurried to make the house look perfect, make myself look beautiful, and make sure that from the time he came through the door all my attention was focused on him and "his" day.
Time has passed and my heart has done a lot of healing as well as forgiving, however I am finding that there is still much I need to forgive. Not every man wants something "more" than what he expresses, and not every man wishes to use me for something. However on the few dates that I have been on over the last several years I can't help but sink into a restaurant booth and thinking to myself. "What does this man REALLY want." Why is he really telling me I'm attractive? What other motives does he have? It makes me extremely nervous when a man pays me a compliment. Especially one about my appearance. Immediately I begin to wonder what he feels I "owe" him, or what other things does this person have in mind. I question his job, his integrity, finances, love of children, and above all....I begin to question, "What in the world does this man want from me?" I have been fooled in the past by a fast talker and I refuse to let those strong brick walls down just to let my heart crumble again.
Rape is a strong and harsh word. It's kind of one of those words that you whisper while out in public. Like if you say it quiet enough it didn't really happen. I read recently that one in every three women will be raped in their lifetime. One in every three women will also experience cancer. Women have some pretty crappy odds. Being a victim of rape is something that I'm not sure you ever get over. The flashbacks, the questions, and the alternative scenarios which play out in the heads of victims don't ever really go away. The only way to deal with rape is to talk about it, however there is shame, remorse, and disbelief that "you really didn't do anything wrong" stays with you. Many times just after my second daughter was born I can recall waking with a strong headache. I always assumed it was because I was no getting enough sleep with a new baby. I believe that I have always been a bit of an early sleeper. Having two little kids you learn to sleep when they go to be, so many nights I remember being fast asleep by 9 o'clock. Since my ex would rarely get home before 7 or 8 at night he was always so good to make me a diet coke filled to the brim of the glass with lots of ice. It was a nightly routine for me. I loved carrying it in front of the tv and relaxing until I would head up to bed. However some nights sleep were often more disturbed than others. I would wake around 4 to feed the baby with the most awful headaches. Not only did my head pound, but I would find my pajamas strung across the floor of our bedroom. This wasn't something every night so naturally I assumed that I had gotten hot during the night and taken them off while sleeping.
This went on for several months. Again, not every night, but it began to happen often enough that I just started sleeping only in garments. Even after this began things weren't right. Clothes weren't on so that I felt dressed completely. I noticed a few times bruises. I made excuses that they must have come from the gym. I did work out, and I did bruise easily. This is not easy for me to talk about. As I sit here I even wonder whether or not I want to type. Sometimes it's easier to stuff memories and feelings back so you don't remember them. So many things I remember, but it has taken years to get those memories back. Once they're back I do nothing but wish they'd go away.
In my first apartment where I lived with my girls they were very young. Ellie was 4 and Olivia was only 16 months. It was here where my mind began to piece things together. Flashbacks began to come so strongly. Flashbacks when I would look at a certain picture on my bedroom wall. I woke up so many nights with faces staring at me. They were faces of men I did not know. I could hear laughter. I could hear jokes. I could feel pressure, and I could see myself there. The only way I know how to describe these times is this.....I found these words written down in a journal from this time and I think it describes it well.
"Woke up completely drenched in sweat again tonight. It's 4:06 on the clock and both girls are here in my bed. My chest is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. I have got to get rid of that candle holder on the wall tomorrow. It's in my nightmare and the wax keeps dripping off of it in my dreams. I hear Drew in my dream. His face is close to mine and he's laughing at me. My ankles feel like they want to kick but they are tied with something. It's an awful horrifying dream. I keep looking at our closet. I feel eyes watching me, and I scream out to those eyes but nobody comes. Pretty soon my arms are held down and I'm in pain. It's a nightmare!!! I know there are people there besides me and Drew, but they stand at the end of my bed and do nothing. I don't know....I feel sick to my stomach. These nightmares keep happening over and over."
Only a few weeks after this experience I was able to grasp a firm grip on what had happened to me over several years. The details of this are still so difficult for me to talk about. I really am trying to deal with the evil that lies in mankind. However, there is so much good that also lies in those people on earth. I try hard to make that my focus and strive to become stronger. I would much rather laugh than cry, however I am a firm believer that crying is necessary at times. When I cry into my pillow (which I have done often) I always offer prayer, and I KNOW without a doubt that my Heavenly Father hears those prayers. I feel arms wrapped around me. As I continue to work on trusting men in my daily life, I remind myself often that there are wonderful men in my family who are great examples of goodness. It is something I am working on. I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone and bitter at every male I meet. I want and wish to find love again one day. If I don't here in this life, than I know I will in the next life. I believe more than ever my Heavenly Father is in control of that area of my life. I'm honest enough to know that I'm not ready to give my heart away just yet, but perhaps in the future I'll be ready to try again to give it to someone special.
Beautiful blog! Thanks for sharing your thoughts and your heart. So many good lessons there if we can all just apply them. Love ya!
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