Therapy…

Today I went with middle for his therapy and ended up doing most of the talking. The therapist told me I really needed to get husband out of the house. I agreed. When you decide to take charge of your life, how do you get the offender to actually leave?

I asked the childrens godfather to find me a gun. I’m afraid I actually need one because of husband.

Husband started yelling at mother today. I knew it was just a matter of time. Now I’m having to do damage control.

 

*sigh* Will it ever end?

 

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Fourteen years and counting

Yesterday was Youngests thirteenth birthday. It was, blessedly, quiet and full of fun for him. It was just the family, sans gramma because she had to go babysit my nieces son for the weekend. My older brother came and spent the night.

Husband was quiet. He baked a pineapple upside down cake for Youngest. He cooked dinner and was peaceful. I’m grateful for that beyond words.

 

Husband and I have been together fourteen years. Our fourteenth anniversary will be May 1st. The past four have been harder and harder to cope with. After his illness four years ago, he changed. He’s been more violent, less patient and more passive aggressive. He’s withdrawn into his computer. He spends more and more time watching videos and not talking to the family except to complain and cajoal the children. He is becoming more and more unbearable, to the point that youngest asks when we are getting divorced.

Husband has said we will never get divorced. He also says that, if I leave him, youngest will stay with him. Youngest said he will NOT stay.

Snowbodies Business

Well, it’s Tuesday and I have a house full, again. Niece and her baby came over yesterday and were snowed in with us. Her toddler son has been harassing the dogs to the point where the female bit him. Not hard, mind you, just enough to put the fear of God into him. He hasn’t touched her since.

Being stuck in the house with Husband has been trying. Nobody has gone ANYWHERE today and, at 1:30 in the afternoon, we are all starting to feel the cabin fever set in. I’m just glad I talked mother into staying home from work today. I had visions of her laying in the snow, dead. My doctor called and cancelled my appointment so I still don’t know what’s wrong with my ears other than I can’t hear.

Boy dog is doing better. Almost done with his meds and he seems none the worst for wear. Middle made pancakes for breakfast, eldest is on her computer, as usual after sleeping till noon. Youngest is playing video games and husband is watching Zombie Nation or something. I have written in my blog, played some Star Wars and drank a pot of coffee. I wrenched my back yesterday shoveling snow and am hurting like crazy. Heating pad and Tylenol are my best friends today.

Rape Kit Backlog and the Mentally Ill

When I received the call from police in December, I was told that there was a break in the 14 year old case I’d reported. They asked me to come down and talk with them so, in January, I did.

The man who met with me was the same detective who took the initial report, so many years ago.As I sat there, in the interrogation room, I began to feel the same dread, the same anxiety that I felt all those years ago. The man was very polite but I could tell he really was concerned about whether or not this case was viable.

They had finally run the rape kit and found a match. They had a name. They also had a problem.

Back at the time the rape happened, I was suffering. I was deep in a mental turmoil called Dissociative Identity Disorder. I remember little of the incidences of rape, of which, apparently, there were three. By all evidences, one of my personalities was on a online dating site and was having conversations, via IM, with many different men. Apparently these men were the ones I reported had raped me. Two of the three incidences I don’t remember anything about. The first one though…. I remember that.

Because of the mental health issues I suffered back then, the officers, at the time, were unconvinced that there WAS an attack. They were very aggressive during my questioning and I finally recanted. I was terrified, badgered and, when they threatened to arrest me for false reporting, I recanted. I was tired and just wanted to go home. They had, unbenounced to me, taken my son from my husband to be and given him to CPS. When I returned home, he was gone.

I began therapy in order to get him back and, there, found I had at least seven different personalities. I, honestly, cannot say WHAT happened during the periods I’m missing. I just don’t know. So, when I was talking to the detective, I told him to just drop it. I couldn’t see putting someone through that issue if they were, in fact, innocent.

Besides, after fourteen years and ten years of therapy, I didn’t want to take the chance on waking those personalities up again. I NEVER want to see them again! Well, not SEE per sae but you know. I want them to remain dormant, unseen and untroublesome.

I don’t want to be crazy again.

 

A big thing that has been on my mind, because of this, is the extreme backlog of DNA tests that are never run. WHY? I think there is an underlying thought that the victims are all lying. Buyers remorse and all that. I imagine the police are in their offices talking amongst each other, saying things like “Yeah, we got another remorseful victim. Said the guy raped her but she didn’t fight back. I think she’s lying” as he tosses the DNA kit into the evidence locker, never to be seen again. At the moment, there have been Twenty one THOUSAND rape kits found that haven’t been run. 

How many victims could have been saved from being victimized if they would only have taken the time to run the damned kit? Like my case, they have the man’s evidence, they have him in the database. That means he’s been arrested for this crime before, right? What if they had actually done their jobs instead of blaming the victim?

How many other victims have been badgered into recanting their stories because of the police? How many perps are still out there, with cases sitting on shelves, raping another or possibly even murdering them? How much suffering could be averted by the police actually doing their jobs?

A persons mental status shouldn’t be the reason for the police discounting the victim. I WAS raped. I AM a SURVIVOR. I might be crazy but I’m NOT stupid. No matter how many personalities I have/had, I’m still a victim of rape.