I knew after entering the building, that on this winter windy
night – I was never going to be the same. My anxiety had been heightened all
week long as I stewed on the invite to spend time with friends at a bar just on
the outskirts of Hillsmere, Maryland to enjoy a DJ’d karaoke night and a few
games of pool. We arrived early to get the best seats in the house, right next
to the dance floor. As I sat enjoying conversation with my husband, I’m
horrified as I see myself walk through the door. She is a blonde with a big
smile and is laughing with two other friends.
My darkened inner world tells me it’s Donna and Crystal – but the
reality is that I’m in Annapolis, Maryland, but I see 25 years ago in Adak,
Alaska at that very same moment. My instinct tells me to run, my heart smiles
to see my husband making full eye contact with me when my gaze is not
distracted by false images of a flashback that is trying to convince me that I
have returned to the past.
A smell that doesn’t belong there entombs me – mom’s house,
the peach air fresheners, the smell of fresh cut grass, the sounds of the ocean as
seagulls fly over - these things help me wear a faux smile - but doesn’t
release the invisible grip of my rapidly growing paralyzing fear. I don’t want to be there, I want to go home,
but say nothing as I don’t want my friends to know that I’m scared, I’m
vulnerable, and I want this pain to finally go away. A master of hiding what
hurts me, is what I believe I am – I am so very wrong!!!!
I briefly turn to alcohol, to try to cut the fear - a
temporary fix as the events of the night begin to unfold. I’m asked to turn
around and look at the lady in the booth behind us – The blonde, people are
laughing, they are taking pictures – I see my attacker and a video camera. She
is dazed, dizzy, confused – she has been drugged and I must save her before he
gets her. But I’m told it’s not my business and to not pay any attention to it.
It’s up to the bartenders to take care of her. Elizabeth is who I see when I
look over to the worker behind the bar to find this woman help. But nobody listens
and tells me to turn away. I’m confused as the smell of my mother’s home during
the same year I was assaulted - once again entombs me. I’m agitated, angry,
scared, and mad, that my mind is telling me that nobody is doing anything to
help this woman as men keep coming over to touch her, offering false
assistance. She falls to the floor unable to stand unassisted. Nobody helps her
– My friends immediately take charge to get the woman out of the building and
away from males who are taking interest.
I’m told that my friend will be back as she takes the blonde
outside, I turn to be face to face with a false image of my assailant as my arm
is touched. I’m angry, I’m mad and something kicks in after all these years I'm
no longer afraid, I’m bold, assertive, and I'm confident that my suit of armor
is one of steel not tin foil – “DO NOT
TOUCH ME!” I command without fear. When I return to my table, I am angry as I see a drunk woman sitting next to my
husband, I don’t shy away this time – I speak up for myself, this woman will
not take over my night with my husband and my friends. I find courage; I find a
voice that I can hear as I speak. “Get up this isn’t your seat and that’s not
your husband!” She tries to meet me with resistance and attitude – she's unaware
I am fueled by excessive flashbacks and are stronger and stronger as I am forced to
see the past that I had blocked for so long. 25 years of being angry that a
waitress - that resembles this unknown woman at our table - that helped my
attacker by drugging my drink.
I don't want this negative element near my family anymore.
I'm following my instinct that is filtered with past and present gut instinct -
she's fake, she's unwanted, she's trouble - I finally become a voice of
confrontation - “Get the fuck up and move on.” My friends have never seen that
in me – my husband has never seen that - and I've never done that publicly -
clearly something is coming to a head, but I refocus as I’m asked to assist
again two other women, who are the blonde's friends, and an unknown male that
was also feeling the effects of something other than excessive alcohol. My
friends and I take over the chaos to get these women out of the building and
home safely. It is only after the women leave that my fears had been confirmed
- In the purse of one of the women - were the drugs that took a negative form
of control on what was a night of fun, dancing and singing with friends.
The one of the bartenders are apologetic, but I want no part
of what feels like poor acting as if they care. I’m insulted when I’m brought a
shot from the female bartender trying to express that she should have known
better. I’m skeptical that something is in the drink and my attacker awaits me.
She doesn’t see the flashback that is entertaining my thoughts and visions. I only reply – when she finally acknowledges
that it’s her fault when she saw these patrons in distress earlier and did
nothing. It is then I am able to speak and say – “Yes, you are right.” She
realized she should have done something about it. My friends and I saved these
three women while another group of people helped the man who came with them,
from the other side of the room, get home safely as well.
I feel I had finally been giving a chance to right the wrongs
that haunted me - I couldn’t save my roommate in 1991 and that I didn’t know
how to help the girls that reported to me what had happened to them, as I was
dealing with my own shock of being sexually assaulted and my own command did
nothing when I reported it to them. As the negative chaotic atmosphere of the
evening dissolves - I’m alone at the
table, when it is at this moment, my icy heart of hate, is deteriorating- I
don't want to let go of who I had become on the inside, bitter while at the
same time - so loving but iced over. I have a small fire of feeling a glimpse
of self-worth that is growing - I'm panicked by this new feeling as my emotions
are overwhelmingly drenched by the beautiful sense of inner goodwill.
I comprehend at that moment I’m not terrified by the sense of
touch from someone who is not my husband or family, and I finally allowing a
supportive hug from a friend who offered comfort as I finally found the courage
to share the darkness in my mind, with those around me. I’m over flowing with
sobbing emotion – I was meeting for the first time - the realization and full understanding that
what happened to me in October of 1991 – WAS NOT MY FAULT!. I feel that this
was the final act of destroying my inner hate, and was placed at a cross road -
I'm giving one of only two choices - I could be the victor and claim my new
shoes of life, or retreat to the darkened corner of my thoughts and place it
there again, for another day to try to emerge as my heart and soul try to finally
heal the years of pain, fear, and anguish.
I like the new shoes. They are a bit snug, but will mold to
meet my needs as I move forward in a positive light. I will NEVER forget that I
can’t change the past and can't go back, but I can learn from it and teach to
others what it has now taught me. It is OK to be afraid of things – but never
let it control your life, because all those days you waste hiding and worrying
– are days of your life you can never get back and only added to the hate and resentment.
I can't say that I'll ever be 100%, trauma really changes a person and their perspective on their lives and the people around them. I'd be lying if I said that I will never have to check a room before
entering and I'll won't have to look over my shoulder all the time. There is just something things
that change in a person and as for trusting, this is the clause embedded among the walls of my mind.
"You're modern woman with strong morals and several
surprising old fashion values. You will have to be very clear about
who you are while also understanding that often times you will scare potential friendships away. Your ability to trust is a process that is
earned over time; nobody is entitled to it, no matter how privileged one may
believe they are. If one gains your trust, always know the clause, guard it
with your life, because once another loses your trust - it’s gone and it could
take days, months, years, or maybe it will never be given back - Only you can
make that choice of when or if ever."
