Still Here

Sorry that I have not written in quite some time. As difficult as the last post was to write, I believe what followed is harder.

I just wanted to check in to let you know that I'm still here--Fully committed to finishing what I have started. Please stay tuned..........

Seize and Plunder

I had written off my mother.....She had disappointed me. Her phone calls were in vain, as I strove to punish her by ignoring them. At the same time, my father's deep grief and sadness was too much for me to take anymore. I couldn't bear to hear him crying on the other end of the phone, so I ignored them too. Ironically, Dean ignored all my phone calls and voice mails to him, and never returned one. The ground under my feet was crumbling, and I was spinning out of control into a place I had never been. Reality was setting in that Dean had moved on and wanted nothing more to do with me. I convinced myself that I could always call off our "time out", and jump right back to where we left off whenever I wanted. This simply was not so. Dean had a new life......One that did not include me. My pleas were in vain. I didn't know how to accept his rejection. I still loved him.

The truth is, I didn't know how to be present in life as I was now being forced to know it. So, I saturated myself in the night life of drinking and going out. My co-workers became my "friends and family". It was odd to me how these people (including myself) could execute these very different lifestyles. We were closing down the bars, but alert bright and early with our suits and card keys and brief cases........Smiling and accomplishing business.

Soon, a couple of "baby attorneys" showed an interest in me. These "baby attorneys", as we called them, were first year attorneys at the firm. It was flattering to be pursued by them, and I was naive enough to think they might want to date me. One night while out at a bar, Luke, one of the "baby attorneys" began buying me drinks, and eventually pulled me aside to have me to himself. I enjoyed flirting back, as I was certainly attracted to him. Later, when he asked me to go home with him, I laughed, telling him that I wasn't that kind of girl. Drunk, and not in my right mind, I ended up spending the night with Luke. I don't remember a great deal about that night, but despite his persistent efforts all night, I did not have sex with him. Thankfully, he would adhere to my decision. I did, however, do more than I wanted.....more than I should have. Luke drove me to my car the next morning on our way to the office. I soon realized that he wasn't happy that he put forth that much effort and never got what he wanted from me. At no time did he want a relationship with me. Who was I kidding? I was an amateur to this world. Luke and I passed each other daily in the halls of the law office, never again to speak.

At that same time, an attorney who was up for partner that year needed a few file clerks to do a document production assignment on location for a couple of weeks. My boss put me on this assignment. The attorney who we were working for was, Stuart, who I saw out at the bars sometimes. However, I had never actually met him. All of the file clerks assigned to this case had a brief meeting with Stuart before he sent us out. Every day for two weeks, we worked on location gathering documents for this case. During this time, Stuart asked me to report to him daily after work to review our progress. Immediately after our first meeting, he invited me to dinner and later drinks with the rest of the group. This became a daily routine. Stuart was thirty-one, and I was nineteen. It was public knowledge that he had just broken up with a woman whom he lived with. It was a foggy line of boss/employee when he would take me to dinner every night and then out for drinks. I felt confused as to why he wanted this, but obligated since he was now my boss temporarily. He wasn't blatantly flirting, but it wasn't completely innocent either. For days, I was simply perplexed. After all, we were always in a big group hanging out together. Although I was still drinking tremendously, I always made it home safely to my apartment.

At the end of our two week assignment, Stuart invited me to a Super Bowl party he was throwing at his house. Everyone that we hung out with would be there too. Even though I could have cared less about any football game, I was looking forward to a party with my friends. I felt privileged to be invited. Not unlike any of our other gatherings, everyone got completely wasted. I remember feeling like I had passed the point of no return. I had gone too far. For some reason, this time was different. I felt sick, and just wanted to go back. Unfortunately, I was stuck in my drunken stupor, unable to escape this plight. I found a chair to sit in while I tried to escape my haze. Hours went by, and I started to sober up. When I walked back into the room where everyone was, no one was there. I looked out the window to find it dark and the driveway void of cars.......Except for mine! Frantic, I walk around the house looking for Stuart. As I'm walking around, I become painfully aware of the pain in my head and the unsettling in my stomach. I found Stuart sitting in a chair in the living room. Something was strikingly different about him. It was alarming to see him awake, but not alert. He sat there emoting nothing, but staring straight ahead, eyes glassed over and red. When I called to him, he slowing looked my direction, still emoting nothing. I explained that I was sorry that I got so drunk, and that I should be leaving. He sloppily told me that I should just stay in his guest bedroom because it was late and I had been drinking. I agreed, and thanked him as I headed for bed. What happened next is a nightmare. The horror of it still crushes me today.

At some point in the night, I was awakened to Stuart clumsily staggering into my bedroom. My eyes were trying to adjust to the small bit of light that was shining into the dark room, which frightened me even more as I heard him struggle. I asked him what he was doing, receiving no reply. As I felt him collapse next to me, I told him that he was scaring me. Stuart just laughed. He wreaked of hard liquor, and when he began kissing me, I was repulsed by the taste. I pushed him off, saying that I didn't want this. Stuart was the size of a linebacker. I was getting nowhere with my attempts to stop him. He was talking, but it was all a jumbled mess. He slurred and laughed and forced his way on top of me. My cries got louder. I begged him to stop. I looked into his glassed over eyes, hoping he would see my fear as I cried uncontrollable tears. The more I resisted and fought him, the more forceful and violent he became. "Please don't do this"! "Please stop"! "Please, I don't want this"! I remember pleading this over and over. He was starting to really hurt me as he fought back, and became angry with my resistance. He said things I didn't understand, but I knew what he meant. I could fight him no more. The physical pain was too much for me to endure any longer. When he ripped my underwear off, Stuart was successful in accomplishing his goal. I stopped fighting. I just laid there as he stole from me what was not his. At first, in that moment, everything went completely silent. I thought of Dean as Stuart continued to pillage. I was overwhelmed with shock, grief, and sorrow. Then, I began to wail, "why"! Stuart was unmoved by my state. Finally, he was done. He got up, and stumbled out of the room.

I lay in the bed, completely numb. I swear I heard my own flatline. I was paralyzed; unable to move. Was this real? Did this really just happen to me? All of a sudden, reality set in. This was real! Stuart really did rape me! Was this my fault? After all, I did stay the night at his house. Was this rape? I felt as if I had cheated on Dean. He was the only man that I had given myself to. But it was consensual. This was not! I began to cry wildly; moan deeply. The physical pain Stuart left me with was great, but the pain I held inside was massive-immeasurable. Again....Amateur. That's what I was to this new world. What now?

Shattered

Upon arriving at my parents' home later that evening, I soon came to find out why it was so urgent that I return. I walked into the living room, and waiting on me was my mother, father, and brother. They all sat silent, each on their own piece of furniture. The looks on their faces were heavy, and I felt anger building up inside me as I knew what I was about to hear.

My mother broke the silence by saying that she wanted us all to be together because she had something that she had to say. She began by saying that she had already spoken to my father about it, and now wanted her children to know.

"I love your father.......I'm just not "in love" with your father."

With that, I let out a sarcastic, boisterous laugh......"Right!.......Who's the other guy?" I asked. "There's no one else." she said. My mother explained that she and my father were getting divorced. I looked at my father sitting across from me, still silent with tears in his eyes. Then I turned toward my fourteen year old brother, Jack. He was falling apart.....crying like a baby. I thought about what he would now have to endure in that house, while at the same time being so grateful that I wouldn't have to be there. My heart was breaking for him.....and my father. My mother stood stoic and numb, watching us all process this new information. It seemed so cold that she wouldn't comfort us, but truthfully, I didn't want her to come near me. Maybe she just knew better. I was livid, and I knew that I was about to unleash mountains of anger and resentment.

I walked up to my father, hugged him, and told him that I loved him and that I was so sorry. Tears began to stream down my face. Next, I just held my baby brother, assuring him that I would take care of him. I had to get out of that house, though! What could I do for him? As I thought about it, I knew what needed to be done. Dean was like a big brother to Jack. He looked up to him, and loved hanging out with him any chance he got. I immediately called Dean and told him what had just happened, and he came straight over and picked up Jack. To this day, I don't know exactly what they did, or where they went that night. All I know is that I'll always be so thankful for what Dean did. He did what I could not......what I did not do. Jack needed someone, and Dean was there for him.

After making sure that Jack was taken care of, I went back into the living room, walked up to my mother, and said things that I shouldn't have.....things I regret. I don't remember all of the words spoken in my fit of anger, but I do remember that at some point, my mother started to cry. I had not one bit of compassion, and mocked her as she broke. Finally, at the end, I told her that I knew she was lying......There was someone else. I said that I didn't want her calling me or trying to see me. With that, I left. I showed her no mercy.......no grace. It made me feel better to hurt her like she was hurting us. The truth is, I had no idea what she was feeling.......where she had been.....hurts in life.....her failures......her losses.....her disappointments.....what had gotten her to this point in her life...........And I didn't care to.

This news only drove me further into drinking every night. It was my escape. I called my father every day to check on him and Jack. My mother left a couple of voice mails on my phone; none of which I returned. A week went by, and I got another phone call from my mother. She said that she needed me to come home one more time........There was something else that she had to tell me. I did not want to see her face, but wanted to make her say those words to me. So, I returned home that weekend.

When I got home, she drove us to the high school football stadium parking lot. Not a word was spoken the whole way there. Once we parked, she turned toward me and confirmed my speculations. "You were right. There is someone else", she said. Smugly, I blurted out, "I knew it!" She told me his name, and how she met him. I was disgusted and at the same time stunned. The woman sitting across from me felt like a complete stranger. It seemed impossible that this could be the same woman that I called "mom" all of my life.......The woman that I loved so.

He has a Face

I have to interrupt my story to write about a new development.......I told you in the beginning that it was on going.

Today has been a really weird day, to say the least. I've been tending to two sick children, which is always quite a bummer, as I so hate it when they feel bad. I'm happy to report that it looks like we are "out of the woods."

Anyway, I recently received a friend request from someone on Facebook. Over two weeks ago, when she sent it to me, I was puzzled because I didn't know who she was. Normally, I'll look over the person's friend list if I don't immediately recognize them to trigger my memory. When I did this, nothing made sense......But, her maiden name was the same last name of the guy who molested me when I was four. I decided to ask someone that I am close to who had her as a friend on Facebook. After much discussion and research, we finally confirmed that this girl was related to my perpetrator.

Even though this girl had done nothing to me, I will admit, the whole situation really freaked me out. It is times like these that I want to cancel my account....retreat......be completely under the radar--stealth. It all just felt too close. I won't do this, though. It's not me.....I'll not live my life like that. However, I'll be more cautious from now on who I let into my life......Even through Facebook. I'm so happy that I didn't confirm her without further investigating.

So, this whole thing started a bigger endeavor. I never remembered the face of J.B., the guy who molested me. When I think back to what he looks like, I remember only some things, but his face is always a smudge and blur of distortion. As I mentioned in an earlier post about my molestation, I always wondered if he did this to anyone else, among other things. As my friend and I investigated further, we ran across a man with the same name as my perpetrator....the same age......from the same town I'm from. His name is an obscure one, so I felt sure it was him. The only way to confirm this, was to ask my mother.

You see, we found him on the state's public sex offenders registry website. There are four photos of him, which seem to correlate the number of offenses with the dates of offense. When I laid my eyes on him, I didn't remember that being his face, but my gut told me it was him. I just knew it. When I say that this guy is creepy, it doesn't even begin to explain it. His sinister smiles in his mug shots say what words cannot. He obviously has no clue the depth of hurt he has caused, and has no remorse either.

I sent my mother the link to the page from the sex offenders registry via email. First, I called her to tell her what I was sending, and asked her if she was alright with it. I was so worried about her and how it would affect her. She agreed to view it. Today, I received an email from my mother.

It read:
So sorry, yes it is...

This man is J.B.! My worst fears have come to pass. He has done this to others........Who knows how many?! I had hoped that because he was found out when he molested me, that he'd never do it again. They say sex predators have a sickness....an addiction--That once they do something like this, it is likely not the last time. Guess what his offenses are?.......You guessed it. Crimes against children. It makes me sick......I'm so disgusted! This man is vile! My heart is heavy for the "others." Tonight, I pray for them........for healing......restoration......

Topsy-Turvy

This is where my story begins to gain momentum.... I got reckless.......My life was drama-filled......Full of disorder....Things began to move quickly in so many different directions. This is when my life began to be turned upside down.

Dean and I never re-gained whatever was lost after the miscarriage. Since we saw less and less of each other, we spent more time with others. We drifted further and further apart. First, we postponed our wedding. We both new what it really meant. There would be no wedding for us.

John, Dean's best friend and roommate, never really liked me. He saw me as the girl that took away his best friend--The "Yoko." He had actually stopped talking to Dean altogether when he found out that we were engaged. So, when Dean moved in with him, John was on a mission to show him how much fun bachelorhood could be. Their apartment was the ultimate bachelor pad. Drugs, girls, alcohol, parties and more were almost a nightly occurrence. Every time I called, there was a party going on, and Dean was either high or drunk. Girls would be talking in the background, which increased my insecurities and worries. The few times that I visited their apartment, John made it clear that I was not welcome. This was before cell phones, so when I called their apartment one day, John answered and after saying some really nasty things, told me never to call his house again....and hung up on me. Dean seemed more comfortable in his "new life" than he did with me. It became obvious that he was not ready for marriage, engagement, or me at all. He wanted to party, not answer to anyone (me), and enjoyed this new found freedom. I felt insecure and was not alright with his lifestyle. So, we talked about our relationship, and decided to call off our wedding altogether. Our relationship was sketchy and almost non-existent. It was clear, but unspoken that we both wanted a break. This was not a clean break, however. Dean and I left things undone....open-ended....Just in case.

I began hanging out with friends from the law firm after work. I had never really drank alcohol in my life. I think I tried a taste of a wine cooler once in high school. Growing up, alcohol was never in our home--Never. I was ignorant to anything alcohol-related. I had never been to a bar, because I was underage. So, it was such a surprise that at nineteen, I could get into any bar or club I wanted to........So long as I was with all the attorneys from my job. The first time I drank while out with them, I got completely wasted. It felt so good not to feel. I didn't have to think about how my heart was breaking over Dean. I didn't have to think about the miscarriage that I had. I didn't have to think about my parent's constant fighting. This was a new world to me. I started going out almost every night after work. The group of people who went out together was a mix of attorneys, secretaries, and file clerks. I started to get to know many people at our firm from our floor (31st), and felt like such a grown up. Because I lived an hour and a half away from work, I started looking at apartments downtown to move into. It is only by the grace of God that I didn't kill myself or someone else driving home every night completely drunk. There are times that I can remember passing out at the wheel, and waking up to the sounds of the bumps on the shoulder of the road. Some mornings, I'd wake up to go to work, and have no recollection of the night before. I am ashamed to admit these things, but it is the truth.

I finally found an apartment in the city that I could afford. It was an efficiency, but it was exactly what I wanted. This made my commute to work half an hour with rush hour traffic, and close enough to drive home late after the bars and clubs. I packed up all of my belongings into my Toyota Celica, and started driving an hour and a half into the city. Upon arriving at my new place, I got a phone call from my mother. She told me that I needed to come back home immediately. She said that it was important.....She had something that she had to tell me. This was the same day that I moved out of my childhood home, and into my very own first place! My mom refused to tell me over the phone. I told her that either someone had died, or that she and my father were getting a divorce. I knew something was really wrong, so I headed back home to my parent's house.

Loss and Change

I miscarried the baby with Dean several weeks into my pregnancy. This would be the first of four miscarriages in my life. It happened at his house on a Sunday. I'll never forget the pain, confusion, and sadness that I felt. At first, we had no idea what was happening.......We were so naive. As the pains got worse, and remnants of a lost life were being released from my body, Dean and I realized what was happening.

When I think back about that day, I am amazed that we didn't seek medical treatment. We didn't seek any advice, for that matter. No one knew. I was weak, in excruciating pain, running fever, had chills, was throwing up, and losing a great deal of blood and tissue from the baby. However, we never went to the hospital until it was all over. (I went to the doctor the next day) Dean would have had to pick me up and put me in the car if he was going to get me there, and that wasn't going to happen. There is one thing above all the pain and sickness that I remember more than anything........The silence. Neither one of us knew what to say. I remember how helpless Dean looked. What could he do? I remember his gentleness as he cared for me......He did the best he could. I laid in his arms on the floor of the bathroom for hours until it was over. Many tears were cried that day.

As the next few weeks passed, things began to change. Dean had to move out of his place, because the owners of his rent house no longer wanted to lease it out. He moved in with his best friend, John. I got a job at the largest law firm in the city as a file clerk. It was an awesome opportunity that I could not pass up. I too stopped attending college during the day, and took night classes after work. As a result, Dean and I saw less of each other. We were still trying to sift through all that had just happened emotionally between us after the miscarriage. It was something that we couldn't put our fingers on....It was just different.