Unexpected Freedom

It has been almost four years since I said goodbye to most of my family. A few years ago now, life took a turn for me, and I was SA'd. I asked someone I knew to drive me to the hospital, I regret not taking my cell phone or anything with me, but I was in full flight of a Fight/Flight response, and without telling anyone else where I was going, I ended up in the ER. At this time, I was not the mature adult woman I would like to think of myself as, at that point I was a scared little girl in the body of a twenty-some lady and I told the nurse the equivalent of "someone hurt me, I need to talk to the police," And, covered in bruises, I spoke to the police- from the back seat of a police escort as they sent me to the nearest hospital with a Psychward. I received psychiatric treatment for just over a week. Regardless of what I said/asked, the hospital didn't run the tests I'd asked for, and I wasn't given a rape kit. I felt crazier by the minute. Admittedly, looking back on it makes my heart heavy because I was not in a good state mentally, but physically my treatment was sadly neglectful. Diagnosis: they told me nothing, and I left with no prescription.

After my stay at the hospital, I called my Brother-In-Law; asking if they minded if I spend a few days to visit, I was forthcoming and told them I was just getting out of the hospital. Admittedly, not the first person/people I reached out to, but other friends and family were busy.

I wanted to spend time with people I trusted, where I felt safe. I hate to say the conversations with my older sister up until that point, weren't always light hearted. The bit of advice she had given me just before our last visit, was over a heartbreak I was going through with her husband's friend; "So? He left you for a younger woman, get over it."

Fast forward. I'm at my sister and brother in laws place, the kids have gone to bed. I've been there two days. We all sit down and she insists I have a drink. I end up pouring my heart out about my personal life, what I'd been through in the previous weeks; the sexual assault, speaking with the doctors. Now, I've known this woman in front of me, my whole life. She probably hated it but she helped change my diaper when I was a baby. This was a hard conversation, and there were tears. The person who had hurt me was close to both of us, and it was a heart-wretching situation.

The next day, they set up a "meeting," where she said they would ask me questions that the police would. She asked me if I was on drugs. She asked me how big my assailant's c**k was. Sent me into a full blown panic attack.

Within a week, she'd gone through my things (I didn't have much) accused me of being on drugs, told me to get a job and dropped me off at... You guessed it. Another psych ward. Diagnosis? Depression. Last time I saw any of them. I haven't heard from any of my brothers since my sister spoke to them, either.

To circle back, to my first week that I was in assessment. It still makes my gut turn, because I was going to school. I was selling my art part time... And when I "went missing," my Dad told my Mom that I had probably killed myself, and they had spent "days looking for my body."

Regardless of all that. I found myself a solid psychiatrist. I finished putting myself through school, and I've been on to the next. 💪 I hope all this space in my life has left room for better things. Lesson? You don't need to put up with shitty people. 👏 Regardless of how long they have been in your life. Good luck in 2025, people. Wishing all the best 💕