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Hello, apologies in advance, this may be a bit long.
I'm Tibblesmum, I'm 43 and married. No children, we can't have any, so we have three four-legged babies instead. All cats, aged 14, 10 and 4. Dh and I have been together for 18 years.
22 years ago in Nov, I was raped by someone I knew. He was my ex-df's best mate. There was a group of us that used to meet up down the local sea front. The ex-df and his current gf (who he left me for) and various others, mostly couples. This mate turned up without his car - his excuse being he was fed up with being pulled by the cops everytime they saw him in his car, so he'd parked it out of town and got a lift down with another mate. Thing was, said mate wasn't staying, and he needed a lift back to his car later that night. No-one else could help him, and he knew I went past where he'd left his car, so I said yes, at 1am. Anyway, he agreed to that, and I thought no more of it. I'd never really liked him, but got on with him because of his friendship with the ex. I wish I'd taken notice of my first instincts.
1am came, and I was ready to go, so called out to him that I was leaving, and if he still wanted that lift, get over here! He did, and off we went. He'd parked his car in a supermarket carpark, unbeknown to me, it was a rooftop one. At that time of night, it was empty, and I didn't like it. Parked next to his car and told him to get out, as I didn't like it. He undid his seat belt, I thought he was getting out but no, he started pawing me. I told him no, I didn’t want it, and didn’t like him like that. Get out. He said that I needed someone to take my ex's memory away, and that one day I’d thank him for it. He undid my seat belt, and I turned to face him - I was going to give him a slap, but he was too quick. He got hold of my left leg and pulled while at the same time pushing on my shoulder with his other hand. I was flat on my back. I landed with his knees between mine. It was well known that he carried a knife, and I didn’t want to find out, I struggled, told him to **** off, screamed “no” countless times, but he didn’t listen. His hand went up my skirt and he got the waist band of my tights and underwear and yanked them down. He must’ve undone his trousers at the same time. The next thing I knew he was in and hurting like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He kept repeating that I needed him to do this, and that I’d thank him for it one day. He must’ve heard me crying “no” as he was adding that I didn’t mean it really. I also then realised that he wasn’t wearing a condom, as it hurt all over again when he came. It stung like hell - burnt like lemon juice on a cut, but much worse.
He got off, tried to help me, but I didn’t want it. Shouted at him to get out - and he did. I pulled everything back up and drove home. I let myself in, went to bed and cried myself to sleep. Had a strip wash at the sink the following morning, as I couldn’t have a bath, as I was bleeding. Tried to put a tampon in, but it hurt too much.
The bleeding lasted 6 days, and that worried me, I knew it wasn’t a period as I’d only had one about three or four days before it happened, and my cycle’s always been very regular. I went to the GP tand very briefly told him what happened, and about the bleeding, although it had stopped by then. He could see I was very upset and didn’t touch me. Told me he thought the bleeding was the result of shock, and promised he wouldn’t put on my notes why I visited, it would just be between us, and that the subject was closed unless I brought it up in the future, I didn't.
I managed to keep it buried till a year ago, when I started getting flashbacks, nightmares and panic attacks. Then I knew I had to do something about it, and that putting a front on doesn't last forever. We were just starting to see a new dentist a year ago, and I ended up in tears on him, I was that scared, fobbed him off by telling him about a **** dentist I had as a kid (true, but not entirely) and he accepted that. We were going regularly as my dh was having a lot of work done. One day, I wrote it all down on the pc, printed it off and put it in an envelope. The next time dh had an appointment, I took it with me. Told the nurse I had something written down for him to read, and she told him for me, so when we did go in, he just said "I hear you've got something for me to read?" and held his hand out. He promised that he'd read it once we'd gone, and that we'd talk about it next time, and that it would just be between him and me. He was as good as his word too. We were up there again a fortnight later, and he and I had a little chat after he'd seen to dh. He told me that I was very brave, and it was a good first step. I told him he knew more than my Dr, and he said that my Dr had to know, as he could help me more than he could, but he'd support me as much as he could. He suggested I make an appointment with him just so we could talk, next time he needed to do something for dh, in another fortnight. So I did just that. The following day, I made another appointment, this time with my Dr. This was for the following week, and I was so very scared to actually admit it verbally. I told the dentist when I went in for my chat with him (he even asked the nurse to leave, so it was just between us) I told him that I'd done so. He was chuffed for me, then handed me his card. On the back he'd written four different helpline numbers, saying I should ring one of them at least, as he didn't think I was ready with face to face counselling - which is what he said the Dr would probably arrange. I thanked him, and promised I'd ring, and I did. I needn't have worried about the Dr though, he was absolutely marvellous. I was in his room for half an hour while I told him the basics, and he looked through my records, to see what my GP put when I went at the time. "Taken advantage of by a friend." That was the way he put it. My Dr said he couldn't do that this time, and that he had to put it down clearly, but not to worry, as only medical staff would see it, and that it would make things a lot easier for me in future, as they'd understand why I was so scared for anything invasive.
The Dr referred me to the hospital for an assessment, and they arranged counselling, to take place at the GP's surgery. The first session was the 8th Jan this year, when I thought it would be a getting-to-know-you session. Nope, she asked me if I was ready to talk it through, and I said not really, but if I don't talk about it now, I never will. So, through clever questions on her part, I talked it all through, stopping a lot, but she got me going again, to get it all out of me. I came out shocked. Drove the short distance home, and my neighbour knocked on the door, seeing my car there, she wondered what was wrong. I told her I'd been for counselling, she asked what for, and I handed her a copy of the "letter" I gave my dentist. She read it through, hugged me and let me sob my heart out, for the first time since it happened.
The following week, I had, along with the rest of my colleagues, a compulsory job move. New people, new office, new management and management systems, and I just couldn't cope. I had a breakdown, I suppose you'd call it, couldn't stop crying, felt so very alone, even though I was surrounded by people, getting out of bed of a morning was impossible without breaking down in a heap. I went back to see my lovely GP, and he diagnosed anxiety and depression and put me on Fluoxetine. That was the third week in January, and I'm still off now, have another seven weeks on this certificate. The anti-d's are helping, I'm a lot better now than I was, but get anxious when there's a lot of people about, and the slightest thing feels like my whole world is crashing around my ears - though it's not nearly so bad as it was. Last time I saw him, a fortnight ago, I said that if my attacker had any std's, after all this time, I'd know by now wouldn't I? Hoping he'd agree. He didn't, and advised me to go to the local GUM clinic, for my own peace of mind. He gave me the details, saying it was another step in the right direction, and to go when I felt ready. I went last week, my lovely neighbour took me, and waited for me in the waiting area. The nurse was great, very understanding once I told her why I was there, and said she could see I was struggling. She was quick and gentle, took three swabs down below, all the time me shaking like a leaf, and she then took some blood. We had a nice chat, where I cried on her, twice. She told me I was doing all the right things, and was getting all the right support from the right people. She asked who my GP was, and when I told her, she said "Oh I know him, he's lovely, he used to do sessions down here!" That explains a lot then!
I have to ring the clinic next Wednesday for my results, though she said she didn't think I had anything to worry about, as everything looks perfectly normal, and she didn't want me making myself worse by worrying. On the Friday we've got a check up with the dentist, we've got a lot to catch up on, I'm sure he'll be pleased I've come such a long way - and I suppose the Dr and nurse are right, it had to come out somewhere, manifest itself somehow after all this time, and the job change just finished it off. I have my final follow up appointment with my counsellor the week after that.
As I say, I'm a lot better now than I was, and good days are outnumbering the bad. Can still dissolve into tears a few times a week, and my sleep isn't always what it could be, but it's improving all the time. It is a long haul, but I can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel now, so I know I'm on the home stretch. I've got to go and see an Occupational Health Specialist at some time in the future for work, and I'm still waiting for that appointment to come through. Work have offered me a graduated return when I do go back.
22 years ago in Nov, I was raped by someone I knew. He was my ex-df's best mate. There was a group of us that used to meet up down the local sea front. The ex-df and his current gf (who he left me for) and various others, mostly couples. This mate turned up without his car - his excuse being he was fed up with being pulled by the cops everytime they saw him in his car, so he'd parked it out of town and got a lift down with another mate. Thing was, said mate wasn't staying, and he needed a lift back to his car later that night. No-one else could help him, and he knew I went past where he'd left his car, so I said yes, at 1am. Anyway, he agreed to that, and I thought no more of it. I'd never really liked him, but got on with him because of his friendship with the ex. I wish I'd taken notice of my first instincts.
1am came, and I was ready to go, so called out to him that I was leaving, and if he still wanted that lift, get over here! He did, and off we went. He'd parked his car in a supermarket carpark, unbeknown to me, it was a rooftop one. At that time of night, it was empty, and I didn't like it. Parked next to his car and told him to get out, as I didn't like it. He undid his seat belt, I thought he was getting out but no, he started pawing me. I told him no, I didn’t want it, and didn’t like him like that. Get out. He said that I needed someone to take my ex's memory away, and that one day I’d thank him for it. He undid my seat belt, and I turned to face him - I was going to give him a slap, but he was too quick. He got hold of my left leg and pulled while at the same time pushing on my shoulder with his other hand. I was flat on my back. I landed with his knees between mine. It was well known that he carried a knife, and I didn’t want to find out, I struggled, told him to **** off, screamed “no” countless times, but he didn’t listen. His hand went up my skirt and he got the waist band of my tights and underwear and yanked them down. He must’ve undone his trousers at the same time. The next thing I knew he was in and hurting like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He kept repeating that I needed him to do this, and that I’d thank him for it one day. He must’ve heard me crying “no” as he was adding that I didn’t mean it really. I also then realised that he wasn’t wearing a condom, as it hurt all over again when he came. It stung like hell - burnt like lemon juice on a cut, but much worse.
He got off, tried to help me, but I didn’t want it. Shouted at him to get out - and he did. I pulled everything back up and drove home. I let myself in, went to bed and cried myself to sleep. Had a strip wash at the sink the following morning, as I couldn’t have a bath, as I was bleeding. Tried to put a tampon in, but it hurt too much.
The bleeding lasted 6 days, and that worried me, I knew it wasn’t a period as I’d only had one about three or four days before it happened, and my cycle’s always been very regular. I went to the GP tand very briefly told him what happened, and about the bleeding, although it had stopped by then. He could see I was very upset and didn’t touch me. Told me he thought the bleeding was the result of shock, and promised he wouldn’t put on my notes why I visited, it would just be between us, and that the subject was closed unless I brought it up in the future, I didn't.
I managed to keep it buried till a year ago, when I started getting flashbacks, nightmares and panic attacks. Then I knew I had to do something about it, and that putting a front on doesn't last forever. We were just starting to see a new dentist a year ago, and I ended up in tears on him, I was that scared, fobbed him off by telling him about a **** dentist I had as a kid (true, but not entirely) and he accepted that. We were going regularly as my dh was having a lot of work done. One day, I wrote it all down on the pc, printed it off and put it in an envelope. The next time dh had an appointment, I took it with me. Told the nurse I had something written down for him to read, and she told him for me, so when we did go in, he just said "I hear you've got something for me to read?" and held his hand out. He promised that he'd read it once we'd gone, and that we'd talk about it next time, and that it would just be between him and me. He was as good as his word too. We were up there again a fortnight later, and he and I had a little chat after he'd seen to dh. He told me that I was very brave, and it was a good first step. I told him he knew more than my Dr, and he said that my Dr had to know, as he could help me more than he could, but he'd support me as much as he could. He suggested I make an appointment with him just so we could talk, next time he needed to do something for dh, in another fortnight. So I did just that. The following day, I made another appointment, this time with my Dr. This was for the following week, and I was so very scared to actually admit it verbally. I told the dentist when I went in for my chat with him (he even asked the nurse to leave, so it was just between us) I told him that I'd done so. He was chuffed for me, then handed me his card. On the back he'd written four different helpline numbers, saying I should ring one of them at least, as he didn't think I was ready with face to face counselling - which is what he said the Dr would probably arrange. I thanked him, and promised I'd ring, and I did. I needn't have worried about the Dr though, he was absolutely marvellous. I was in his room for half an hour while I told him the basics, and he looked through my records, to see what my GP put when I went at the time. "Taken advantage of by a friend." That was the way he put it. My Dr said he couldn't do that this time, and that he had to put it down clearly, but not to worry, as only medical staff would see it, and that it would make things a lot easier for me in future, as they'd understand why I was so scared for anything invasive.
The Dr referred me to the hospital for an assessment, and they arranged counselling, to take place at the GP's surgery. The first session was the 8th Jan this year, when I thought it would be a getting-to-know-you session. Nope, she asked me if I was ready to talk it through, and I said not really, but if I don't talk about it now, I never will. So, through clever questions on her part, I talked it all through, stopping a lot, but she got me going again, to get it all out of me. I came out shocked. Drove the short distance home, and my neighbour knocked on the door, seeing my car there, she wondered what was wrong. I told her I'd been for counselling, she asked what for, and I handed her a copy of the "letter" I gave my dentist. She read it through, hugged me and let me sob my heart out, for the first time since it happened.
The following week, I had, along with the rest of my colleagues, a compulsory job move. New people, new office, new management and management systems, and I just couldn't cope. I had a breakdown, I suppose you'd call it, couldn't stop crying, felt so very alone, even though I was surrounded by people, getting out of bed of a morning was impossible without breaking down in a heap. I went back to see my lovely GP, and he diagnosed anxiety and depression and put me on Fluoxetine. That was the third week in January, and I'm still off now, have another seven weeks on this certificate. The anti-d's are helping, I'm a lot better now than I was, but get anxious when there's a lot of people about, and the slightest thing feels like my whole world is crashing around my ears - though it's not nearly so bad as it was. Last time I saw him, a fortnight ago, I said that if my attacker had any std's, after all this time, I'd know by now wouldn't I? Hoping he'd agree. He didn't, and advised me to go to the local GUM clinic, for my own peace of mind. He gave me the details, saying it was another step in the right direction, and to go when I felt ready. I went last week, my lovely neighbour took me, and waited for me in the waiting area. The nurse was great, very understanding once I told her why I was there, and said she could see I was struggling. She was quick and gentle, took three swabs down below, all the time me shaking like a leaf, and she then took some blood. We had a nice chat, where I cried on her, twice. She told me I was doing all the right things, and was getting all the right support from the right people. She asked who my GP was, and when I told her, she said "Oh I know him, he's lovely, he used to do sessions down here!" That explains a lot then!
I have to ring the clinic next Wednesday for my results, though she said she didn't think I had anything to worry about, as everything looks perfectly normal, and she didn't want me making myself worse by worrying. On the Friday we've got a check up with the dentist, we've got a lot to catch up on, I'm sure he'll be pleased I've come such a long way - and I suppose the Dr and nurse are right, it had to come out somewhere, manifest itself somehow after all this time, and the job change just finished it off. I have my final follow up appointment with my counsellor the week after that.
As I say, I'm a lot better now than I was, and good days are outnumbering the bad. Can still dissolve into tears a few times a week, and my sleep isn't always what it could be, but it's improving all the time. It is a long haul, but I can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel now, so I know I'm on the home stretch. I've got to go and see an Occupational Health Specialist at some time in the future for work, and I'm still waiting for that appointment to come through. Work have offered me a graduated return when I do go back.
xxx
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