Tag Archives: healing from sexual assault

THE COURT TRANSCRIPT – PART ONE

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Today’s post is coming directly from the court transcript.  To differentiate my comments from the content of the transcript, I will put my comments in italics, and everything else  from that delightful day will be in regular type.  I will not be including all of the transcript, just the pertinent parts.  If you’ve ever been to court or watched a court proceeding on television, you know there is a lot of superfluous chatter, and while important to the overall case, it is not important enough to bore you with.  Also, for some reason I have never chosen to use my attacker’s name and have just referred to him as cockroach boy.  I will continue to do that.  Part of it is I don’t want to give him the honor of naming him and partly because I still see him as a cockroach.  I will also not use his attorney’s or the D.A.’s names.  This is all part of the public record, but I feel like it is somehow ‘cleaner’ to leave actual names out.

We went to court in Chula Vista, because Coronado is in the “South Bay” district of San Diego.

“IN THE SUPERIOR COURT OF THE STATE OF CALIFORNIA IN AND FOR THE COUNTY OF SAN DIEGO                                                                                                                  SOUTH COUNTY DIVISION

SAN DIEGO, CA – THURSDAY, JUNE 25, 2012 – 2:40 PM

THE  COURT:  Okay, I have read and considered the probation report and the recommendation.  I’ve also read and considered the sentencing memorandum.  It looks like there are some statements from the victims (besides my statement, there was a statement from the girl he pulled the bathing suit bottoms down of the month before my attack.)  So let me read those.

D.A.:  Thank you.

THE COURT:  Have you seen these?  (Speaking to cockroach boy’s attorney, referred to from now on as ‘C.A.’ for cockroach attorney.)

C.A.:   Yes, Your Honor.

THE COURT:  Okay.  I’ve read the letters from the victims as well.  Do you wish to be heard as far as sentence?

C.A.:  Yes, Your Honor.  I will not reiterate everything that I wrote in my sentencing memorandum.  I would like to point out that cockroach boy has family members here. They have been here for all of the court hearings as well as his stepfather. (Now, this was a big, fat lie.  Laura and I were there for all the hearings, including the bail hearing 4 days after the attack, and  NEVER were any family members present.)  He has several family members that have been here each of his court hearings.  He does have a lot of support.

 But most importantly, I don’t think it’s possible to understand cockroach boy or his actions unless his mental health issues are taken into consideration.  Even without the mental health issues, under the Rules of Court the — this court does have to take into consideration the seriousness of the crime as it relates to other crimes that we see in this courtroom all the time.

 And based on what we normally see, this was relatively–I don’t want to use a word that minimizes what happened, but it’s less serious than other crimes of this nature that we’ve seen.  (Okay, at this point, I am ready to come out of my seat and attack his stupid attorney.  She was basically saying that, while he did attack me, it really wasn’t that bad.  All I could think was, that’s let him attack you and see if you think the same way.)

And then when you can throw in the fact it’s occurred because of his mental health issues, it just makes it far less serious and more understandable.  (I could never understand how she could say these words with a straight face.  Even today as I am writing this, it still pisses me off and I’d like to slap her silly for trying to defend his actions.)

If we really want to do something that will change the circumstances (can’t change them, they happened) and make sure that this doesn’t happen again, then we should give him probation.  (As I mentioned in a prior post, I knew this was a possibility, but hearing her say it in court was incredibly upsetting, especially after her minimizing the actual crime.)  He will not get any treatment while he is in custody if he is sentenced to prison.  He will not get supervision afterwards.  Nothing will change except for that he’ll be taken off the streets for some amount of time, then he’s going to be released and may even be worse because of his incarceration in prison than he was before he came in.  (Ah, let me think about this- off the streets?- sounds good to me.  And I will say at this point that I believe, in fact, if he lives through his prison experience, he will definitely be worse when he is released.  He will not only have been in prison for approximately 5 years, he will have been someone’s bitch, he’ll be extremely angry and he’ll be a much better criminal.  Believe me, I considered all of these things, and I struggled with it.  Ultimately, though, I came to the conclusion that his crimes deserved prison.)

So we are asking the court to impose probation, give him very intensive supervision requirements, and get him treatment and follow-up that will change things so that this sort of thing does not happen again in the future.  (He has had treatment in the past, and fat lot of good it did.  In fact, he was supposed to be headed for an inpatient treatment facility just days after my attack.  Decided to have a last blow-out before being committed by his family.  Interesting, huh?)

THE COURT:  Anything from the People?

D.A.:  Yes, Your Honor.  Your Honor, the People are asking the court to follow the recommendation of Probation (this is the Department of Probation, which is who, after reading all the police reports, and all the other information available, including my statement and the statement of the ‘Jane Doe,’ decides and recommends a sentence to the judge), not to be confused with plain old probation, which is what his stupid attorney thought he should get,) which is the six years maximum on this.  He is ineligible for probation.  And it is the People’s position that this is not an unusual case.

The Defense wants us to not consider the Static 99 that says that — told us that his risk of re-offending is moderate to high, and yet she’s provided us no alternative.  We don’t have a doctor’s report.  We don’t have one page of anything verifying any of these mental conditions he’s supposed to have.  All we have are facts of these cases.  (Interestingly enough, his attorney never bothered to actually get the psyche evaluation done.  Or if she did, it was so damaging that she chose not to include it, though her argument was based on his supposed mental condition.)

And when I say CASES, I mean two instances, a month apart; the first one in which he removed the bathing suit bottom of a young woman; and the second one in which he went further, he removed her bottom and got on top of her, straddled her.

And the only reason there weren’t more serious physical injuries, there was a good Samaritan there who intervened and stopped what surely would have been a rape of that victim, Miss Shriver, who is present in court.

The emotional injuries that both of these victims have suffered are lasting.  They continue today.  They will continue into the future.  And Miss Shriver will be addressing the Court.  She would like to address the court to share some of that.

In addition to this not being an unusual case, Your Honor, I think that here are some aggravants under the Rules of Court that should be mentioned that weren’t.

 One is the vulnerability of each of these victims under 4.421 (A) (3).  These were both women who were walking alone.  They were vulnerable  to an attack by this defendant because they were alone and didn’t have anyone to protect them except for, thank goodness, a good Samaritan who stepped in.

Also under 4. 421. (A) (8), Your Honor, the manner of the crime in the situation involving Miss Shriver, this defendant walked by her.  He walked by her.  They made eye contact.  She gave him a greeting, and he decided — he made a decision to come back around and attack her.

So he chose his victim in Miss Shriver, and he came back around and attacked her.  So there was certainly some planning and thought that took place before he pushed her down, removed her bottoms and got on top of her.

Also, 4.421.(A) (2), Your Honor, wasn’t mentioned.  And I think it is important to show that his — based on his criminal history that we know from the Probation Report (I have a copy of this Probation Report and I will be sharing things from it at a later date.  So I knew exactly what his criminal history was.) and these two acts, they were increasing in seriousness.  Because the first one, all he did was remove the pants from the victim and chickened out, or didn’t take it a step further.  But a month later he did take it a step further, and pushed her down, and he was on top of her.  So he is — his crimes did indeed increase in seriousness.

Alcohol, Your Honor, is certainly not an excuse for these crimes.  That doesn’t make this an unusual case.  (Cockroach boy claimed that he was drunk.  He may have been drinking the night before, but during the attack I never smelled alcohol on him and given the position we were in, I would have smelled it had it been present.)

And  —  oh, Your Honor, regarding circumstances in mitigation, there are very few.  And I think even when you look at what those factors are, they actually weigh against this particular defendant.  In particular 4.423 (A) (5), that the defendant had no predisposition to do that.  Again, we go back to the facts of this case.  He did it once, and then he took it further the second time.  And we’re just fortunate it didn’t go any further than it did with Miss Shriver because of the individual that stepped in and stopped it.

I do think that because he is statutorily ineligible, because the aggravants outweigh the mitigates, this should be a six-year case.  And I’d like the Court to hear from MIss Shriver as well.”

I’ll stop here for today.  It is long and a pain to type from the transcript.  As you can see, though, it was an incredibly difficult day.  Having to sit there and listen to his stupid attorney make light of what happened, to try to excuse it, was almost more than I could stand.

I will also mention here that this took place LAST year.  I am no longer in the same place emotionally that I was then.  I continue to get email from concerned friends and family members that I am still suffering from and not moving on from my attack.  I can assure you all that I am fine, great, in fact.  I am writing about my experience to help others and in the hope that I am somehow able to affect change in how sexual assault is perceived and dealt with.

MY VICTIM IMPACT STATEMENT

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The following is the statement I made to the court on 25 June 2012.  My intention was to read it directly to cockroach boy, while looking at him.  Ha!  I couldn’t even look up from my paper to read it to the judge.  I was so nervous and my mouth was drier than the Sahara.  I think, in a way, that this actually helped me because it forced me to speak slowly.  Otherwise, I may have raced through just to be done with it.

I have mentioned many times how traumatized I was with every contact I had with anyone associated with this case.  The exception was a woman in the probation department.  She was kind and compassionate and helpful in ways that no one else was.  She encouraged me to be brutally honest about the effects of the attack and how my life had changed.  She told me I could talk as long as I wanted to.  She said it was important that the judge and the court hear and understand from me what I thought should happen to cockroach boy.   It was the first phone call I had with someone other than my therapist who was on my side.  Anyway, writing my statement was not easy, but this is what I came up with:

“Your Honor

The actions of the defendant have greatly affected me, and to a lesser degree, everyone in my life.  Before the attack, I was a happy, positive person:  I had a successful business; I was very physically active; I lived on an island that I loved and considered magical; I was 6 months into a new relationship with a wonderful man.  In other words, I had a fairly regular, normal life.

A little before 6 AM on 24 September 2011 all of that changed.

That Saturday morning I was engaging in my daily exercise routine of a seven mile walk when I was viciously attacked.  The attempted rape took place IN FRONT of the Hotel Del Coronado along the ocean sidewalk/path, not in some isolated portion of the island or on a dark street or under the bridge.  No, it occurred in a well-lit, populated area.  Of all the places I would have felt safest, this was one of them.

Completely unprovoked, and in the most cowardly way possible, the defendant ran up behind me and rammed both his fists into the middle of my back, and using the momentum of the rest of his body, slammed me to the sidewalk.  My telephone, which I always carried for safety, flew from my hand as my body propelled violently forward.  As I skidded along the pavement, my hips, hands and face sustained injuries.  Before I knew what was happening, he aggressively flipped me over onto my back and hooked his finger in the waistband of my skort and underwear, and I felt the terror rise within me as he ripped them off, for now I was naked from the waist down.  I kept fighting and screaming, but this did not stop him or even deter his efforts.  All I could think was, ‘there is no way I’m letting him rape me.’  I kept fighting, knowing that I was literally fighting for my life.  Then I saw his fists getting ready to punch me in the face to shut me up.  At that very moment, I heard someone yelling at him to stop, to get off of me.  He did not stop, nor did he get off of me, but it startled him enough that the expected punches did not come.  The man who was yelling got closer and closer until he was yelling in the defendant’s face, “GET OFF OF HER.”  Finally, he stopped, got off of me and ran up the sidewalk towards the street.  I immediately jumped to my feet and pulled my clothes back up.  I was later told that the man who saved me, and who I refer to as my guardian angel, was a guest at the hotel.  Instead of chasing after my attacker, he walked me into the Del, got hotel security, who then called the police.

Nine months later, I am still haunted by both the physical and psychological effects of the sexual assault.  I am in therapy and have been since a few days after the attack.  I have a strong support system but each day has had its share of challenges.

I have now experienced first-hand the roller coaster of shock to anger to depression, each phase accompanied by its own share of anxiety and fear.  Living in Coronado for 9 1/2 years prior to this vicious attack, I walked every day before dawn.  Since my attack, I still cannot walk near the Hotel Del Coronado or the beach and never walk before dawn unaccompanied.  As a result of my depression, which I am dealing with, I became suicidal; I came very close to jumping off the Coronado Bridge and might have actually done so had I not seen a friend’s car on the bridge behind me.

I now want to move away from Coronado because it no longer feels good to be here. I no longer feel safe.  I look at most men now as potential threats.  Walking 4 blocks to the store  if it is nighttime is no longer possible.  So many things have changed.  If I allowed the sadness for all these changes that are a direct result of the attack, I am not sure I would survive.  I now approach life in a very different way.

Perhaps the most starkly evident effect of all this has been my ability to work.  I am a self-employed seamstress.  I make custom home furnishings: slipcovers, window treatments, pillows bedding, anything for the home.  Since the attack, it has been very challenging to work as my concentration and focus are affected.  Jobs that would normally take several hours, now take several days, if not longer, if I am able to do them at all.  There has been a substantial loss of income, as a result.

There is no doubt in my mind that had my guardian angel not shown up when he did, the defendant would have beaten and then raped me.  No doubt at all.  In addition, there was absolutely no hesitation on his part.  He knew exactly what he was doing.  The attack was more violent than any photos or police reports, or even my own words, can convey.  He may have been on his best behavior while in jail, but that’s because he is monitored, forced to take medication and there are no women for him to attack.  Statistically, chances are the defendant will never be ‘cured.’  Even with medication compliance, the chances of another vicious assault are very high.

Given all this, I believe he deserves and I am requesting he be sentenced to the maximum time allowed under the California statute for the crime of attempted rape.  We all know he would have completed that rape given a few extra minutes.  I can tell you, without hesitation, I might not be here any longer if he had.

The 24th of September 2011 was, without a doubt, the worst day of my life.  I may have been a victim of a crime that day, but I am NOT a victim.  I WILL get through this and in the end will be a much stronger person.  You are NOT worth my life.

Sincerely,

Tamerie Shriver”

Although, as I said at the beginning of this post, I was not able to read this directly to cockroach boy in the manner I wanted to, I did say to him while looking at him and he looking back at me, You are NOT worth my life.  And when I sat down, I asked my boyfriend if he (cockroach boy) had been looking at me the entire time.  He said, no, that he had only looked at me when I looked at him and told him he wasn’t worth my life.

Next post I’ll get into the details of exactly what happened in court and, even more interesting, what happened after, which was even more upsetting than being in court.

THE LONG-DRAWN-OUT PROCESS OF GETTING TO COURT

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The original date that we were supposed to go to court, or, rather, the first fitness or readiness hearing was scheduled for the beginning of November 2011.  Then it was continued until January.  Then, because cockroach boy’s attorney still had not gotten his psyche evaluation done, it was continued, yet again, until April, then May.  All of this time waiting was taking an emotional toll on me.  I was worried that we would have an actual trial and worried that we wouldn’t, that for some reason, he’d be let out.  As I mentioned before, the D.A. did nothing but traumatize me with her dire predictions and her seemingly uncaring attitude towards me, the victim of the violent attack.  So, on 24 May 2012 another readiness/fitness hearing was scheduled.  I was so used to postponements at this point that it never occurred to me we might actually move forward in the process.

From my journal 24 May 2012:  12 noon – “He pleaded guilty, which means sentencing will be 21 June at 1:30p.  I will give my victim’s impact statement then.  I am both relieved that I won’t have to testify in a trial and pissed that we had to wait 8 fucking months for this.  Also, cockroach boy wrote me a letter the day of the attack after he was picked up by the police.  In it he expressed his egret, bla, bla, bla.  The D.A. let me read it but wouldn’t let me have a copy of it.  I will ask at the police station here, but chances are they will say no.  I wish I had never read it.  In it he said that he never meant to hurt me, that he hurt himself, too, that he knew I was terrified.  Well, la de da.  Fuck you.  And the “best” news of all is he may only get 365 days, of which he will have served 9 months by sentencing and with credit off for good behavior, he could conceivably walk out of jail that day.  Un-fucking-believable.  I am so mad.  I cannot even process it.”

 

I am in the process right now of again trying to get a copy of that letter he wrote to me.  I tried to get it right after the sentencing, but because he filed an appeal, the case was considered open/active and my request was denied.  Once I have it, I will do a post with his exact words.  I was hoping to have it for this post, but that didn’t happen.  Anyway, the D.A. was traumatizing me in ways she wasn’t even aware.  When she told me that he might get no time, I really lost it.  It seemed inconceivable to me that he could commit a violent crime and potentially spend no time in prison.  I realize this happens all the time, but when you are in the middle of something like that, you really cannot think clearly.  And as I’ve also said several times, my brain was not functioning properly anyway.  This was just another layer of shit heaped on an already huge pile.

 

And from my journal, 26 May 2012:    “I want to contact a local newsperson and offer up my story.  I am still not free to say anything I want to with regards to my experience and I am not sure how or when to approach someone.  I do feel like my victim impact statement is VERY important and that may be the basis of my video that I post on my Facebook and YouTube, etc.  My intention is to grab the attention of the greatest number of people possible so that I can get my project and my message out there.  My mission is to take sexual assault from the hidden to the light.  And that I believe, no, I know, will help countless women who haven’t had a voice or a platform.  I know it will help me, too.  

I keep thinking that not only do I want to get my brain scanned, but I would like for cockroach boy to have his done as well.  Wouldn’t it benefit everyone if he is medicated properly so that he never, ever puts anyone else through what I am going through?  I think it’s important.”  [Note- I never did get my brain scanned, let alone request that he get his done.  I was grateful that the Victim Compensation Fund was paying for my therapy and knew they wouldn’t be open to paying for an expensive brain scan.  Nor did I make a video for YouTube or Facebook.]

 

Now, it seemed, all I could do was wait until the sentencing hearing.  I was not doing much writing about this at the time.  I remember being so tired of the uncertainty.  I was never sure about when it would all end.  Even though we now had a date and a plea, I had no faith that we would actually go to court on 21 June.  And, as it turned out, we didn’t.  The date was postponed until 25 June.  Next post will be my victim impact statement and the story of my day in court.

SAFARI PARK HALF MARATHON 2012

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As I mentioned in a previous post, I was not doing a lot of writing during this time period. I was really suffering with my ‘brain damage’ and even the simplest tasks proved beyond my ability on most days. I was doing my best to train for my upcoming half-marathon, which was to be held on 6 May 2012 at the Safari Park Wild Animal Park in Escondido, California. So the following journal entries deal mostly with that.

27 April 2012

7a As it is the lat Friday of the month, it is time for the ‘Ladies With Sexy Guns’ (I think that’s what they sometimes call it) hiking group to get together and, well, hike. This morning we are going to hike the Pine Mountain Valley Loop, or something like that. The sun is out, so it should be a beautiful day. Since I’ve been cutting back on the St John’s Wort, I think I actually feel somewhat better. At least nothing has tripped me up and brought the feelings of hopelessness and despair in the last several days.

9:30p The hike was very nice, with high altitude (6000’+), sunny, not very strenuous nor very long. But after I got home, I was exhausted. I slept for over 2 hours and had a heck of a time waking up. Apparently the altitude was more of an issue than I realized.

28 April 2012

7a Had a rather sleepless night. Good, fast walk with Mike this morning, though. Our average speed was 13:30 per mile. Not bad. Just one more week until my race. Am I ready? I have to be.

5 May 2012

6:30a My period decided to make an (unwelcome) appearance. I have not had a period for 106 days and wasn’t expecting it. It does explain my crabbiness, general bloating and the headaches, though. Bill and I are doing yoga this morning and like he said, I can simply lie there and listen to Mike’s meditation if I do not feel well. [Note–This Mike I am speaking of here is yoga teacher Mike, not be confused with my walking friend Mike.]

6 May 2012

11:55p Can’t sleep, so I thought I’d come downstairs and write a bit. I am feeling better from this morning, though I am still kind of sore. Going down the stairs is a lot harder than going up.

My time was 2 hours and 43 minutes, which works out to 12min. 44sec. miles. Not too bad. When I did the Atlanta Half Marathon 11 1/1 years ago, my time was 2 hours and 57 minutes. Quite an improvement, I think. Best of all, Bill got up with me, took me to the race and was cheering for me as I crossed the finish line.

We had to nap this afternoon and as we were lying there, I said, “I don’t understand why I am so tired.” Bill said, “Duh! You got up at 4:45a, you didn’t sleep well, you’re on your period, and you just did a half marathon. Of course you are tired.” Oh.

Perhaps I should go back upstairs and try to sleep again.

9 May 2012

6:40a I keep thinking and hoping that one of these mornings I’m going to wake up and feel great, feel like my old self. What I’d really like to wake up feeling is the way I felt when I first moved to West Hollywood in 2001. I’m not sure anymore exactly how long I held on to ‘that’ feeling, but for at least for the entire year I lived there and for probably another 6 months or so after I moved here. I think it gradually faded over time and I never realized it was going away. I’m not sure what makes me think it will ever come back AND I remain ever hopeful that it will.

My legs are still pretty sore. I think yoga yesterday was a good idea and no walking for several days to let them rest/heal is also a god idea. I found out I did even better (time-wise) on the race than I thought. I did not take into consideration the fact that it took me 2 minutes to get to the starting line. My actual time was 2 hours and 41 minutes and my pace was 12:20 per mile!

 

As I also mentioned in a previous post, I was awaiting the arrival of a copy of the court transcript from the sentencing hearing. I finally received that and a couple more, very interesting, things have happened around my case in the last couple of weeks. I am doing my best to get my story our in chronological order before adding too much of what I now know. I will probably have to write about them and since they really have nothing to do with my healing process, I won’t be jumping ahead of myself in any way.

PLEASE SIGN THIS PETITION

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While on Facebook just now I came upon this post:

“CNN: Apologize on air for sympathizing with the Steubenville rapists.” on Change.org.

It’s important. Will you sign it too? Here’s the link:

http://www.change.org/petitions/cnn-apologize-on-air-for-sympathizing-with-the-steubenville-rapists

I know I haven’t done a post in several weeks.  I was out-of-town and have just been dragging my feet.  In my journal entries, I am almost to the sentencing hearing and, at the time, I wasn’t writing much.  I also had to get a copy of the court transcript from that hearing and finally talked to the court reporter yesterday.  With any luck, I should have that in my hands by the end of the week.  When I tell the story of that fiasco, I want to be sure to have the exact words that were said by cockroach boy’s attorney.  It was unbelievable, as you will see.

PUSHING THE ENVELOPE

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Before I get to my journal entries, I wanted to tell you that I have been pushing the envelope of darkness, so to speak.  I am still (mostly) afraid of the dark, and going out into it to walk, unless I am walking with someone, is not possible.  Or is it?  Lately, as it gets lighter earlier, I have been going out before it is actually light.  Okay, only by a couple of minutes and only because I know the sun is coming up and it will only get lighter and lighter.  And when I walked at 4:30a the other day with my friend Mike, I was able to meet him part way down my block.  Of course, I watch out the window and can see him turn up my street.  Still, it feels like progress.  I also remind myself of my friend Erin, who was raped 30 years ago in an attack that was similar to mine, in that she passed him, spoke to him and then he grabbed her from behind, and she walks in the dark, sometimes alone, almost every day.  And then there are the odds.  I mean, really, what are the odds of it happening again?  As they say, lightening doesn’t (usually) strike twice in the same place.  I am still very cautious, though.  I expect that at some point I may be able to walk in the dark again.  But maybe not.  And maybe I’ll just continue to push it a little more each day, but never too much.

 

Back to the past and my journal entries:

Wednesday, 18 April 2012

Feeling rather crappy today and I’m not sure why.  There is no rhyme or reason to the ups and downs of my emotions.  I walked 6 miles and still feel bad.  I feel okay as I am actually walking and then when I stop, all the crap comes back full-force.  I just want the pain and awful feelings to stop.  Why are they being so difficult to release?

10:25a  Had my shower and cried the entire time.  I can’t believe how bad I am feeling.  I’m back in bed, hoping I can sleep and wake up feeling better.  The thoughts that keep running through my mind are disturbing, to say the least.  It’s like I am in a battle with a part of myself that is determined to make me give into it.  I feel like I cannot not tell anyone this, even Susie, but Monday when I was coming home from therapy, feeling really, really, really low, as I was coming across the bridge, I actually considered stopping, hell, I almost stopped and, well, at the very least would have caused the bridge to be shutdown.  As it turned out, Mike was 2 cars behind me, which I didn’t know until he came up right behind me at the light at Orange.  As far as I can remember, I’ve never come so close to doing something that I don’t think I really want to do.  I continue to fight that annoying part of me that just wants to leave, to check out.  I am trying so very hard not to give in.

11:20a And now I just feel like I’ve been beat.  The feeling of complete hopelessness goes away to be replaced by a feeling of overwhelming exhaustion.   All I can do is sleep.

 

Monday, 23 April 2012

“8:15a  It’s another marine-layery day.  How delightful.  Oh ,that’s right, not so much.  Like I need depressing weather when I am already in a depressed state of mind.

And the big question is – Am I being completely honest with Susie about how I am really feeling?  Not all of the time, but more than I think I should be.”                                               [ Note- I’m not sure what I was thinking when I wrote this.  And I wrote this prior to seeing Susie on this day.  At this point I had not told her what happened on the bridge.  I had not told anyone, including Bill.  And as a matter of fact, I did not tell him until some weeks later.  I was always afraid that if I was completely honest with Susie, she would have me committed to a mental hospital.  I did not write that afternoon when I got home from therapy.]

 

Tuesday, 24 April 2012

“5:30a  Had another very fast walk with Mike.  13 1/2 minute miles, which is pretty dang quick.  I’m planning on the 7:30a yoga class, so I am resting until it’s time to leave.

I am very hopeful that, once all of the stuff (SAMe, St. John’s Wort, and whatever that other pill I’ve been taking) is out of my system, Wellbutrin won’t be necessary.  I guess it’s a good thing that I told Susie what’s really going on with me since, it appears, the pills I was taking, at least the St. John’s Wort, was making me worse instead of better.  I just want to not feel like I do”.

 

So, the St. John’s Wort was making me suicidal.  I should clarify that.  It was making me even more suicidal.  Although I am not bipolar as my brother and my uncle are, it turns out I am in the bipolar spectrum and what that means is, just as there are certain drugs and/or supplements a person with bipolar disorder should never be given, someone who is in the bipolar spectrum has to be treated in the same way.   Had I not told my therapist what happened, there is no telling what I might have done.  As I said, I do not remember ever coming so close to doing something about my desire to leave this world.  It’s not like I ever had a plan or have ever thought much past the idea of not being here anymore.  This incident really scared me, and even though I did not tell Susie right away, I did tell her the next week.  She immediately knew it was what I was taking; something that was supposed to make me feel better, was making me so much worse.  I couldn’t just stop taking it, either.  I had to taper off of it.  Eventually, all of what I was taking got out of my system.  At that point, I was afraid to take anything.  My body has such weird reactions to medications and after this horrible episode, I didn’t trust anything.  In the end, I decided to go without any kind of medication.  Should I have tried a ‘real’ antidepressant?  Maybe, but I chose not to.  As I said in an earlier post, I thought that  I was not clinically depressed, but situationally depressed.  It was what I was going through and I felt like once I got through the therapy, I would be okay.  I was, however, open to it if Susie really thought I needed it.  I was lucky that I was being monitored and that I was finally honest with Susie.

IT GOT WORSE

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I think I’ve been putting off doing a new post because, first of all, I was getting ‘worse’ rather than better and, secondly, I wasn’t writing as much and there are far less journal entries.  The ones that are available are kind of hard to read, at least for me.   And I am now coming from a place of being completely healed from the attack.  At the time, though, I was so engrossed in my therapy that writing about it was the last thing I was capable of doing.  Of course, that was the very thing that would have been helpful, but as I’ve said many times already, my brain was not functioning properly.  I was doing the best I could from where I was.  So, several more entries…

 

1 February 2012

My neck pain is back with a vengeance.  After I came out of shock, the pain seemed to lessen.  At least  I could move my head again.  Now, though, it hurts as much as ever.  And yesterday I got a horrible headache, which still hurts this morning.  I thought it better not to go to the gym.

 

9 March 2012

I can feel myself slipping further and further over the edge.  It’s a terrible feeling and I’m not sure I can stop it.  I so want to isolate myself from EVERYONE, even, and especially, Bill.  Tomorrow is one year from the day we first met; not the date, which is the 12th, but the actual day.  We are going to Jimmy Buffett, which should make me happy.  I am hopeful that this weekend will not be a repeat of last weekend when I just felt bla.  I started taking 2 SAMe today because I still do not want to take a ‘real’ antidepressant.  Perhaps the higher dose will help.

Mother told me yesterday as we were hanging up that she loves me.  This seems to be what set me off this time.  I just want to feel whole and loved and that I matter and the simple truth is I just don’t.

 

15 March 2012

Once again court has been continued.  Cockroach’s bitch of an attorney still has not gotten his psyche evaluation done.  I wasn’t holding my breath that we’d actually be going to court on the 27th but I was hopeful.  Hopes dashed yet again.

 

20 March 2012

Kind of ironic — I feel better about what I went through in my past, the past I’ve been stuck in for the last couple of months in my therapy, and still, I’m not ‘me.’  I can’t seem to do what I’m supposed to do.  I finally got my new computer (have been without for over 6 weeks) and I still haven’t cleared off my desk so that I can set it up.  I feel stuck in some other pattern or something.  I want to work and I don’t, can’t.  I want to sew.  I want to be working on my new website/project.  I want to be working on my new yoga bags (and eventually, I’m sure, a yoga clothing line).  I want, I want, I want, and what do I do?  Nothing, nothing, nothing, and then some more nothing.  I seem to have lost my drive and determination.  I also ‘lost’ my stomach ache that I had for over a week.  It was caused from my therapy and the events of my childhood that I was revisiting.

What I did today: yoga class, walked with Laura, went to Pacific Beach to get frozen yogurt, then to AmVets on the way home.  Every day I wake up and think, “This’ll be the day,”  that I’ll finally be back on track.  So far, though, it hasn’t happened.  Oh, and today should have been the readiness/fitness hearing for cockroach boy.  Instead, Mary Loeb emailed me the new dates which are 24 May, fitness hearing and, assuming we move forward at that time, 31 May for the prelim.  I made sure the new dates would be when Bill was not in Mexico.

 

21 March 2012

I had a very nice marriage proposal this morning on my second walk.  It’s too bad I’m not into older men, and by older I mean 93 years old!  Still it was nice.

I don’t understand why I can feel almost good one minute and the next feel all the despair I’ve been working so hard to get rid of.  I suppose it’s the depression talking.  I so want to be motivated and the best I can seem to do is get back in bed.

 

22 March 2012

I realize that what I am is not clinically depressed, but situationally depressed.  Whatever you call it, it feels crappy.

 

As you can clearly see, I was more depressed than I realized and I was fighting to not go on an antidepressant.  I took Wellbutrin back in the mid-90s and, though it did what it was supposed to do, it was a horrible experience and I was trying to not repeat it.  At the time, too, although I was depressed and  knew I was depressed, I didn’t think I was really depressed.  Funny how the mind works.  I should also mention that since I am taking these entries directly from my journal and it is my journal, I don’t have to explain things because I know what they mean or who I may be referring to.  For the purpose of this website right now, my only intention is to get my story told.  After that is finished, I will be filling in the blanks and there are a lot of those to be filled.  If I filled them in as I went, this would take a few years to get through.

Another thing I realize that I never wrote about in my journal was back at the end of January or very beginning of February 2012 I decided to compete in a half-marathon.  Because I was, at the time, still having so much trouble forcing myself to walk, I knew that I had to train for something so that I would have to get out there.  I chose the Safari Park Half-Marathon because it benefited the tigers.  The date of the race was 6 May 2012.   So during all this not-being-able-to-do-much-of-anything-period, I was also meant to be training for a 13.1 mile race.  It’s funny (to me) that I never wrote about it, but that’s just another example of how my brain wasn’t working normally.

 

 

ANOTHER PART OF THE (VERY LONG) PROCESS

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After coming out of shock, the fun was just beginning.  Believe me, I use the term ‘fun’ very sarcastically here.  As you will read in the next several entries from my journal, my initial conversation with the D.A. that precipitated my coming out of shock only served to confuse me further when I met with her the day before a scheduled hearing to see what was what and where everything stood at that point.  Really, I was a complete mess at this point in the process.

 

17 January 2012

I may have moved from shock to anger, but now I’m feeling a lot more depressed.  I am meeting with the D.A. today.  She needs to know who I am and that I am expecting her to do her absolute best to make sure cockroach boy pays for his crimes.  Oh, I definitely have mixed feelings about it all.  On the one hand, he violently attacked me and I KNOW he’ll do it again if he is not in jail.  I also know that in jail/prison he will just learn to be a better criminal and may do even worse things when he gets out.  So what’s the answer?  That I do NOT know.  And it turns out that cockroach boy apparently has bipolar disorder and Asperger’s Syndrome.  Oh well, doesn’t excuse his actions one little bit.

 

18 January 2012

Off to the fitness hearing.  Oh, joy.

 

20 January 2012

And more joy — the trial/case/whatever you want to call it is postponed/continued for another 8-10 weeks.  I don’t know the exact dates yet since the D.A. didn’t bother to call and let me know.

 

21 January 2012

6AM  Feeling very overwhelmed and depressed, like something very heavy is sitting on me. Mother’s suggestion – just don’t feel it.  Ah, okay.  If only it were that easy.  I’m feeling like I did when I was still in shock and had no control over what my body was doing.  All I could do was go along for the ride.  This is so much like when I came back from Spain and no one knew the true extent (hell, they didn’t have a clue) of how I was feeling.  No way am I telling Bill.  I feel like I have to ‘put on my happy face’ around him.  It’s not that he wouldn’t be supportive, but I’m not sure he’d understand, not really.  No one can.  I feel all alone.

 

23 January 2012

I actually feel like I am not going to make it, like this is all too much, that the ‘injury’ my brain has suffered is just one thing too many in a life full of one thing after the other, that it truly won’t get better in time, that all the EMDR is doing is stirring up all the old crap and nothing good will ever come from that.

We didn’t even get to the EMDR today.  Suzie gave me the brain assessment test again.  Turns out I’m depressed and I have excessive anxiety and I’m a little something else, which I forget.  Probably has something to do with memory.  I even saved getting my Sprinkles cupcake until this morning when I was leaving La Jolla to go to therapy.  Of course, I couldn’t eat it when I got it because I had an empty stomach and a cupcake on an empty stomach isn’t such a good idea.  So I waited until I got home and ate lunch.  Then I finally ate it.  It didn’t taste so good to me.  Maybe I’ve reached my cupcake limit.

I can feel my heart beating ad I can tell my breathing is not right.  Also, I think Emily is pretty close to dying.  I held her when I got home.  She did purr for me but she won’t eat.  I told her it’s okay if she leaves.  I also asked God to let her go to sleep and not wake up.  It’s not that I want her to die, it’s just that I cannot take her to the vet and have her put to sleep.  I don’t think she would want that.  I just need for her not to wake up.  I can just add that to my PTSD list.  Her death, I mean.

 

24 January 2012

6:30AM  I can feel myself sinking further and further into the hole.  It’s just like when I was feeling that my brain wasn’t working properly and there was nothing I could do about it.  It’s a terrible feeling.

 

25 January 2012

I knew Emily would not be alive this morning.

 

27 January 2012

Still keep looking out the window to see Emily in her chair and when I slept until 7:30 this morning, I thought, gotta get up to feed Emily.  Can’t believe she’s really gone.

 

28 January 2012

It is so weird to NOT have to get up to feed Emily.  She is my first thought each morning.

Today is my 5th day of taking SAMe.  Do I feel better?  No idea.  It’s probably too soon to have kicked in, anyway.  It is sunny today, which does help, and it’s supposed to be 80 degrees.  That really helps.

 

So as you can see, I had a lot going on.  Dealing with my 20-year-old cat dying was just another added thing I clearly did not need.  And even though it has been a year now since she died, every time I come through my back gate, I turn to look at her chair, expecting, I guess, to see her waiting there.  I did bury her in my backyard, so I can ‘visit’ her whenever I feel like it.  It’s not the same as having her here.  Not even close.

Another strange thing is happening to me.  The other day I was talking with a friend I had not seen in something like 7 or 8 months and she was asking about the sentencing and all that had transpired since we last sat down and really talked.  I had trouble remembering the details, which, of course, at the time I thought I’d never forget.  I said to her that I hoped I had written about that experience.  Turns out I didn’t.  It is funny how our minds work, whether it is to protect us or to keep us safe in some way.  That’s why I think the retelling of what happened to me and how I felt at the time is so important.  What is also nice to know, is that I was able to completely heal from this.  I think I may have mentioned before that when I read or tell my story now, it seems like I am talking about someone else.  I feel a sense of sadness and empathy, but it doesn’t feel like it’s me.  I guess that’s good.  And my EMDR really worked the way it is meant to work.  (Thanks, Susie!)

IT SURE TOOK A LONG

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From my journal, 12 January 2012…

“It is official – I have moved (FINALLY) from shock to anger.  And boy and I angry!!!!!!!!! I am so mad that it took me so long to get to this stage; that it happened to me at all; that I have felt pretty much nothing for the last 15 weeks; that we live in a society that would allow and produce people like cockroach boy; that I have been stuck on so many levels for so long; that all I did yesterday was cry; that I was unable to cry for the last 15 weeks; that we may have to go to court and have an actual trial; that his attorney will try to make this my fault (HA); that it is her job to do that to me; that I haven’t been able to walk for 15 weeks; that I got fat (okay, just a little pudgy, but I FEEL fat) because I was unable to walk; that I had to join the gym in order to be able to get any exercise; that I have been in extreme pain for at lest the last 10 weeks, maybe longer; that I am not supposed to talk about my experience because anything I say can be used against ME in a court of law; that I did nothing to incur this attack; that most people have no clue what I’ve been going through and will continue to go through for at least a little while longer; that I no longer trust people in general; that I look upon every man and teenage boy as a potential attacker; that I have been unable to work; that I even consider breaking up with Bill because of the craziness I feel; that I cannot immediately jump into my new project because I might jeopardize my case; that I no longer feel safe in Coronado; that I want to leave where I have lived for the last (almost) 10 years; and there are probably 100s more things that I am mad about, but for now, this will have to suffice.”

I actually typed this rant at the time because, as mad as I was, I knew I could never write fast enough to keep up with my thoughts.  It is almost comical, now, the things that I thought at the time.  I really had no idea of how long it would actually take me to process, deal with and get through it all.  And the thing that brought me out of shock was talking with the D.A. assigned to the case.  It completely freaked me out when she told me that we would be going to court because she had to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he was guilty, that she had to prove his intent was to rape me, that she had to prove this to 12 people on a jury.   Well, I simply lost it right then on the phone with her.  I was so upset. (On the one hand, I was happy that I was finally crying, but on the other, I was better able to understand just what I was dealing with.  And it sucked.)  I thought, what do you mean you have to prove he’s guilty?  I know he’s guilty, I was there, I’m the one he brutally attacked.  And you have to prove his intention was rape?  Well, what do you think it was?  To have a tea party?  He ripped my clothes off.  Where is the doubt in that action alone?  Believe me, I understand that criminals (I use this word purposely.) are innocent until proven guilty in this country; what I don’t understand is why the alleged perpetrator is given all the rights and the victim of the crime, in this case ME, is treated as though she is the criminal and has done something wrong.   Oh, it was very eye-opening and not in a good way.  Part of what took me so long to recover was the repeated trauma I suffered when dealing with the D.A.  I always felt victimized after speaking with or meeting with her in person.  Even though she said she was on my side, I certainly never felt that.  And the truth was, she was the attorney for the city or state or whomever, she was NOT my attorney.  I didn’t have an attorney, though she was always happy to point out to me that it was my right to hire my own attorney.  So, let me get this right: I was the victim of a violent, attempted rape and if I want to be protected I need to pay money for this privilege?  I’m the one who was harmed here, not cockroach boy.  And I am not automatically protected?  See what I mean?  This is but one small example of how it went for me.

Something to keep in mind, too, is up to this point, we still had not gone to court.  His attorney kept getting a continuance, ostensibly because she (or he, I was never clear on this) hadn’t had time to get his psych evaluation done.  Okay, I also get how overworked the public defenders are, but, really, it’s not like cockroach boy was busy.  As far as I was concerned, he was having a merry old time in jail.  Maybe jail isn’t fun, but he chose to go to jail by attacking me.  He was getting fed each day, he didn’t have to work, he had television and internet privileges. Does that sound like he was suffering in jail?  I don’t think so.  And even if he was, too flipping bad.  I’ll say it again;  HE CHOSE to go there.

I will get more into this in my next post.

14 NOVEMBER, 19 NOVEMBER 2011

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14 November

Therapy was tough today.  I almost cried.  The tears just wouldn’t come out.  It was when I was talking about Andy.  Also, Susie said she thinks my talking is my tears.  For now.  That’s probably why I am talking so much about the attack.  To everyone I see.

I think that when I was growing up, I never felt that I mattered, that I was not important.  I think I still feel that way a lot of the time.  I mean, and I know I’ve said this before at various other times in my life, I’m 51 years old and I have nothing to show for it  —  no husband, no kids, no house, no money.  Oh sure, I have a talent for making beautiful things, and a portfolio full of pictures of those beautiful things, but what does that really mean?  I think I’m trying to make myself feel relevant.  I know there are quite a lot of people who would miss me if I were gone, but what does it take for me to feel that I matter while I’m here?  I think writing my autobiography is a step in the right direction.  Also, writing about what I’m going through now.  I cannot be the only one who is experiencing it, though why no one else has come forward or no one I know has ever been attacked, I can’t figure out.  No one talks about it.  And I can’t seem to shut up.  And then there’s the annoying little voice that keeps saying, ‘Why do you think what you have to say is important?’ and ‘Why do you think anyone will even be interested or listen or care?’ and ‘Maybe I am the only one who this matters to.’  

And seriously, what’s the worst thing that can happen to me for writing it all down on my blog?  No one reads it?  I only help myself get through it?  Well, so what?  The whole point is to get me through it and if I happen to help someone else along the way, great.  If not, well, I will have still helped me.  It’s not like anyone is really reading my blog these days anyway.  I do need to figure out a way to increase my readership AND have people leave comments.  I want, no, I NEED to know that I’m not just wasting my time.  (Note- The blog I am referring to here is http://www.alittleofthisthatandtheother.blogspot.com and even before the attack I was having a bit of trouble posting on a regular basis.  After, I tried to go on as if nothing had happened, occasionally making a veiled reference to something, but never coming totally clean.  After I launched this site, I foolishly thought I could do posts on both.  That has not happened.)

19 November 2011

Slowly, but ever so slowly, I am realizing I have a very deep sense that I simply do not matter.  I, of course, l know this is ridiculous, and yet, the feeling is still there.  This was pointed out to me last Monday in therapy.  When I was talking about how mean my brothers were and how I got no relief from Mother until I took the drastic measure of running away from home, Susie asked me if I felt that I didn’t matter?  I said, yes, and I’ve thought about it a lot this past week.  I’m not sure why I feel this way.  Oh, I can understand why I would have felt it before, but not after Hoffman and all the subsequent work I’ve done to deal with my past.  Apparently, though, it is still there.  Rats!

The Hoffman gathering today was pretty powerful for me.  The topic was Gratitude.  My first thought was, ‘of course I am grateful for everything.’  And then I thought more about that and realized it was the perfect topic for me because, although I am definitely grateful for a lot of things, I am not nearly in the frame of mind I was pre-attack.  I can’t even thank God for my island anymore.  That has got to shift for me.  I am working on it, but maybe I really do need to ‘fake it ’til I feel it again.’  Kind of like the releasing resentment prayer that Mike sent me.  I’ve been doing it and I’m pretty sure I’ve done it for more than 14 consecutive days and I’ve yet to feel any less mad or resentful towards cockroach boy.   Still, I’ll keep doing it.  It certainly cannot hurt anything and may be helping me in ways I am not even aware of.  (Another note – the releasing resentment prayer I mentioned here is an amalgamation from the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous and says the following: “God, please help me show ____ the same tolerance, compassion and patience that I would cheerfully grant a sick friend.  This is a sick person God.  Save me from being angry and resentful.  Thy will be done.  I ask for everything that I want for myself to be given to him.  I ask for his health, his prosperity and his happiness.”   Say it for 14 consecutive days and see if it doesn’t help you release your resentment.  Remember that this is for your peace of mind and serenity, not his.)