Speeding Ticket

Ok, this is my first post with very raw emotions. I got a speeding ticket, my first ticket ever. The crazy thing is that I didn't even know I was being pulled over. I was in a park trying to get to my softball game. I got a little lost in the park and therefore was going to be late for my game. I finally found my way, and when I did, I sped up so I would be able to make the game. I parked my car and then got out of the car. Next thing I knew, there was a police officer asking me why I was driving so fast. It took me completely off guard. I was fine through the game. I was fine through dinner afterwards. Then all of a sudden it hit me. Like a ton of bricks.

How could the police give me a ticket for speeding and not even give the rapist a warning for doing the horrific things he did to me? I mean, they should have at least put him on the sex offenders list. I can't stop crying. I keep thinking of the police dective's face when I think about getting that ticeket. I get flashes of the rapist's face. He got away with it! How could I not get off for going too fast in the park, and HE was able to walk free and clear after he RAPED me???

I'm really not upset about the ticket, obviously. People get tickets all the time. But this was my first ticket ever. I've been driving for 13 years and it was the first time I was even pulled over. I am upset with the police. They have no problem punishing people for their first offence when it is something simple like driving too fast, but when it is something like rape, they let the guy off free. They just assume you made up the whole story. I wonder how that police officer would feel if I told the judge that he made up the whole thing. That I was really going very slowly. His wife will leave him if he doesn't make more money, so he made the whole story up. I wish that would work. If I knew it would, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But clearly that is not how life works. I have learned the hard way that life is not fair at all.

I cannot reiterate enough, please, please, please, ALWAYS believe a woman when she tells you she was raped. It has been 5 years since my rape and I still have episodes like this from time to time. Everyone thinks I'm so strong. I'm only "strong" because I have to be. I have to keep living my life. I can't let this rapist take anything else from me. But from time to time I do have these moments still. And it sucks! But tomorrow is a new day and I will be fine. I am a survivor.

(I definitely feel better having written all that down. I should be able to sleep well now - I hope!)

Party Time!

Hello Everyone!

I took the day off today to prepare for the party. Matt* bit off a bit more than he could chew with the home repairs, so hopefully this place won't be a total disaster for the Take Back the Summer Party tomorrow! For the record, he and Rick (Matt's dad) have made the place look amazing so far! I just hope it will be complete by party time! I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm still here and that I have just been busy with party preparations. I will post some pictures soon!

*For those of you who don't know me, I will be blogging about Matt soon!

Memphis

We are in Memphis right now. You may be wondering what this has to do with the rape. Well, going along with yesterday’s post, it has to do with my rape anniversary. I was trying to find something to do for me on that first anniversary. One of the other things I felt like I lost was my drive to exercise, especially run. I used to run all the time before the rape and I even completed a marathon a couple years before. So when the anniversary was approaching, I decided to look for a run. I knew a marathon or even a half marathon was a bit out of my range since I had let myself get so out of shape and I only had a few weeks to train. So I started looking for a 5K in my area. I did a few internet searches and came across a site for the Memphis Sexual Assault Resource Center (Memphis is only a 4 hour drive from me). They just happened to be hosting a “Take Back the Night” 5K the week before my anniversary! I was so excited and I decided that I was going to participate.

I also wanted to do something for the Women’s Resource Center. I could go on and on about how wonderful they were to me during my first 2 years after the rape, but I will save that for another post. Anyway though, they were so great to me that I decided to do the run as a fundraiser for them. So I sent out a note to ALL of my friends, family, friends of the family, etc. letting them know what happened to me a year ago and what a wonderful organization the Women’s Resource Center is and I asked them for donations.

I was extremely nervous to send out that letter. After what happened to me with the police detective, I was afraid that people wouldn’t believe me. I was afraid that I would lose more friends. I almost didn’t send it out because of this. Then I decided that if the Women’s Resource Center even gets a small amount of money, it would be worth it. So I reluctantly dropped the letters off in the mailbox and went home.

A couple days later, the donations started pouring in. With the donations were words of encouragement and support. I couldn’t have asked for a better boost on my one year anniversary. A time when I thought I’d be all depressed, I had never felt more loved. And to top it off, I was able to raise over $3000 for the Women’s Resource Center. Having so many people rally around me like that was extremely therapeutic and it helped me heal more from the emotional wounds.

Although I never ask my friends and family for money anymore, I do continue to do the Take Back the Night run every year. Many of my friends know I am going down there and will send a donation along with me anyway. I’m sad that this year they are not having the run anymore. Since we already reserved our rooms, we decided to go anyway. We went to the Red Birds game last night and we plan to attend some museums and hang out on Beale Street today. Not exactly what we had planned, but it should still be fun. I plan to send any donations I receive into the Women’s Resource Center and just enjoy myself in Memphis. I need to start a new tradition next year. I’m glad I have a whole year to figure that out, because I have no ideas now. Any suggestions are welcome!

Blog Title Significance

Wow, it’s been an awfully long time since I’ve written on here. To be perfectly honest, it’s that time of year. That time when the weather starts changing into Spring. I can smell the air, hear the birds chirping . . . and see all the sites I saw when I was driving home to my parents house the day I was raped. Sounds that are glorious to most, but it gets to me every year. Each year the pain is less, but it still gets to me. I couldn’t bear to write about it this time of year. So that’s why I had the hiatus. Anyway, in an effort to get back into writing on here without getting too upset, I thought I’d take a little break from the rape story and explain the title of this blog.

A couple months before the first anniversary of my rape, I spoke to my counselor, Cynthia, about what I should do on that date. I didn’t want to be sitting around and moping about all the things I lost that day. So Cynthia and I started talking about all the things I lost. I lost more than I could list in this post, so I won’t go into everything, but at that particular visit with Cynthia, these are the things I brought up:

• I lost a group of people that I thought were friends
• I lost the ability to give blood for an entire year (I love giving of myself for others)
• As a result of depression and being stuck in a traumatized state I felt like I lost out on my favorite season, summer.

We discussed these losses. I realized that I had met and become very close friends with a wonderful new group of people who lived near me. I also still had all my college friends and some from even earlier in my life that, although they may not live in the same city as me, I still feel very close to them and I know I am so lucky to have them in my life. After reflecting upon this, I realized that the rape did not make me lose friends as much as it helped me to make even better friends and also appreciate the ones I already had.

So then we discussed the blood giving. This may seem like a strange one since I really don’t LIKE getting stuck by needles. However, there is something so powerful in the fact that all I have to do is sit there for a couple of minutes with a needle in my arm and I can save people’s lives! That alone makes the needle stick worth it for me. The fact that I was unable to give blood as a pure result of the fact that I was raped was extremely discouraging. Every blood drive I came across was just another reminder that I had been raped. There is nothing anyone can do to give me back that year that I was unable to donate, but the lovely thing about giving blood is that you can do it every eight weeks. So I scheduled an appointment for a couple days after the year anniversary to give blood. Just making the appointment empowered me and helped me to not feel so much like a victim.

So as we reflected upon the list, the only thing that I still hadn’t taken back was the summer. I can tell you, based on how I feel right now and based on how I have felt this time of year every year since it has happened, it would be VERY easy for me to slip back into that depression and miss the summer every year. I just lost so much of myself that day, and to be quite honest, I really miss who I used to be. It would be so easy to mourn that loss all summer long. But I decided not to let the rapist have that kind of control over me. He already raped me once, and I was not about to let him ruin every summer from here on out.

So I planned a party. I call the party my “Take Back the Summer Party.” Here is what this year’s invitation reads:

Most of you probably know by now that the first weekend of May marks the anniversary of the day I was raped. This marks my fifth year of survival. For those of you who don’t know, “Take Back the Summer” is my own take on the famous “Take Back the Night” rally. Take back the night started back in 1976 to protest the violence that women experienced while walking in public at night. “Take Back the Summer” is my own personal version of this. After my rape I spent my summer in a state of sadness and depression because of all the things I lost as a result of the rape. Because of this, I felt like I missed out on my favorite season, Summer. My “Take Back the Summer” parties symbolize me taking back everything that the rapist took from me. But this party is not just for me. It is also a thank you to all my wonderful friends and family for standing by my side through all of this. I wouldn’t be where I am without each and every one of you. Please join me for a celebration of life, survival and wonderful friends and family.

The first year was very small with just a few close friends and my immediate family and now the guest list has expanded immensely. I even encourage people to bring anyone else they think may want to celebrate with us. I cannot even tell you how empowering it was to have everyone there supporting me. I plan to keep this party going indefinitely. It will be May 9th this year and I am looking forward to it rather than dreading the date. Mission accomplished!

My Story – The ER

This has been a little harder to write about than I thought it would. I took a little break from it, but I think I’m finally ready to start back up. Forgive my horrible writing style. For now, it’s taking everything in me to just get the words down, but it’s very important to me to get my story out.

My mom, dad and I arrived at the ER and they checked me into a room. They asked me if I would like someone from the Sexual Assault Resource Team (SART) to come and speak with me. They also asked if I would like to report the rape. I said yes to both. The woman from SART was wonderful! I cannot thank her enough for being there with me! However, the detective they sent to question me about the rape could not have been further from wonderful.

He started by asking me what happened. I told him with a lot of hesitation (remember that this guy was my friend before. I was nervous to report it because I didn’t want to lose my friends). Instead of realizing that this was an extremely traumatic experience for me, this detective decided that the rape was my fault.

He came up with an explanation for everything when I was trying to tell him that I was violated. He told me I was wearing some awfully tight clothes and that because they were so tight and because I was drinking that I was asking for it. When I told him that I was a virgin he scoffed at me and said, “Hmmf, a 23 year old virgin! Who’s still a virgin at 23? You clearly wanted to lose your virginity and then regretted it so you told your parents you were raped.” He told me I need to drink less and be more careful about the signals that I send to men. I was asking for it.

Thank God for the woman from SART. I was trembling after my conversation with the detective. I started to believe that it was my fault. She reassured me that it was not and gave me the phone number for a counseling center in my area.

So not only was I victimized by the rape, but I was re-victimized by the detective.

PLEASE! Always believe a woman when she says she was raped! She is going through something extremely traumatic as it is and it will only make it worse to not believe her. Most women who actually go through a sexual assault do not even report it. So PLEASE always believe a woman is she comes forward to you about it.

I could never even convey to you the damage that detective did to me. It took years of counseling to get me better. More on that at a later time!

My Parents

I know I said I’d write about the ER today, but I feel like I need to put in a post about my wonderful parents first. I promise to write about the ER tomorrow.

I was living with my mom and dad at the time the rape happened. I had left the house that day telling my mom that I was going out to lunch with a friend and then I was going shopping. I told her I planned to be home in time for dinner.

Well, dinner time came along and I of course wasn’t there. So my mom called me. I happened to be in and out of consciousness at the time. She called again. Still, unbeknownst to her, I was in and out of consciousness. So she called again and again. I was completely unaware at the time that she was calling me.

As soon as I drove off from Mike’s apartment, I looked at my phone and realized that I had missed several calls all from my parents. I listened to my voicemails. The first one was my mom sweetly saying, “Caitlin, it’s mom. Just wondering where you are. Thought you’d be home by now.” The next message was my mom again, getting a little angry, but still fairly calm, “Caitlin, it’s mom. Where ARE you? This is not like you to just not call us. Call me back.” The next message was one of desperation. “CAITLIN, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE WORRIED SICK.” I never thought I’d be so happy to have my mom yell at me. It just felt so good that she loved me enough to know there was something wrong.

When I got home my parents yelled at me again asking why I didn’t call. Now something you have to realize, I was 23. They really didn’t expect me to actually be home for dinner, but if I was not going to show up for dinner I was to call them just so they didn’t worry about me. At the moment they started yelling and asking where I was I couldn’t even talk. I felt so overwhelmingly loved by them and I was still in so much shock as to what happened that all I could do was cry. Of course this upset my parents even more. Finally I caught my breath and told them that the guy I was with took advantage of me.

I will never in my life forget my dad’s face after I said that. It was a mixture of shock, sadness and rage all in one. The next question was, “Did he rape you.” I was so confused and I was crying and I wasn’t sure. My mom took my phone from me, called Mike and left him a voicemail saying that we are going to the ER and that he WILL be reported. I told my mom that I didn’t want to go to the ER. She told me we had to. I asked if I could at least take a shower and remove my blood covered pants. The answer again was no. We all got in the car and headed to the ER.

My Story - The Rape

My story begins in March of 2004. I was a recent college graduate and I had just started my first post college job. At the time, I was having a bit of a difficult time meeting new friends. I had just moved to a new city away from all my college buddies and was very lonely. Then finally around this time I met a girl at work who was my same age. I had been praying for something like this to happen and I was thrilled! This girl, Veronica*, introduced me to all her friends and I began doing things with them. I finally had people to hang out with and suddenly I didn’t feel so lonely. Most of these people worked at the same place as me, and we ate lunch together every Friday. It was wonderful!

Weeks later, on May 2, 2004, something came up at work and I had to work on a Sunday. Because of my job title at the time, the company I worked for could not legally have me work overtime. Since they needed me in there on that Sunday, they decided to give me the day off on Friday May 7 to make up for it. On Thursday the 6th, I was hanging out with Veronica and the rest of the group. I was really excited because I was off the next day and I was definitely bragging to everyone that night since they all had to go to work the next day. Then Mike, one of the guys that did not work with us, asked me to meet him at his workplace for lunch since he’s always left out of our Friday lunches. I thought that sounded like fun, so I planned to call him the next day to get directions to his office.

The next day, I called Mike. Oddly he sounded like he had just woken up. As it turns out, he did. It ended up being the first absolutely beautiful day of the year and he decided to just take the day off instead of going into work. We decided to still go out to lunch, so I met him at his apartment and we went out from there. We had a very nice lunch and shared some wine. He asked me about wine and discovered that I really like it and that it was a topic of interest for me.

When lunch was over, he asked me to stop in his house for one more glass of wine. He said he had just gotten this bottle and wanted to know if it was any good. I figured that one more glass of wine wouldn’t hurt so I joined him in his apartment. He had me sit on the couch in the living room and he went into the kitchen by himself, opened the wine and poured us each a glass.

The next thing I knew, I started feeling very dizzy. I had never felt this way after only two glasses of wine so it was very strange to me. Mike sat next to me and started kissing my face. I asked him to stop and told him I wasn’t feeling well. He helped me into his room so I could lay down. Or so I thought. He actually led me into his room to rape me.

I don’t really remember much of anything that happened after that. I blacked out and then regained consciousness several times. I do remember not wanting to be there, but I felt so heavy and I couldn’t seem to fight back. I felt him slip my pants off and I just lay there unable to move. I know I cried a lot and really wanted it to stop but I felt helpless.

The next thing I remember is waking up in his bed. He was not there anymore. The sun was just starting to set outside the window. I felt dizzy, tired and sore. Just then I heard the front door open. In walked Mike and upon seeing me laying in his bed, he said, “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe you are still here! I got hard just looking at you!” Then he proceeded to get on top of me, hold me down and rape me again. Another blackout came and the next thing I remember is waking up again alone in his bed.

I finally was feeling a bit better and I stood up, pulled up my pants and got myself a glass of water. I was so scared that Mike might find me. All I wanted to do was get out of there. I found him passed out on the couch. I went to the bathroom to find myself bleeding profusely. I cleaned myself up as much as possible, left the house and sped off as quickly as I could.

The rape was an absolutely horrible experience for me. One that I will never forget as long as live no matter how much I try. But as horrible as it was that day, the horror continued with my trip to the ER. I will write tomorrow about my ER visit.

*Names of people involved in the rape story have been changed.