30 years on and still learning not to blame myself

I was looking at Wikipedia tonight, researching PTSD in Veterans for a research job I want. The subject led me on to PTSD in rape and, as you do, I carried on clicking and reading as I’d always wondered if I had had PTSD as a result of my rape.

I read a sentence that has hit me hard, because I’ve looked for something like this for years to try to excuse my behaviour after the rape:

“Conversely, some rape survivors become hyper-sexual or promiscuous following sexual attacks, sometimes as a way to reassert a measure of control over their sexual relations.”

I’ve felt guilty and dirty and just plain wrong about this one aspect of my experience for 30 ######6 years - long after I’d (sort of) come to terms with the rest of it. I wish I’d known about this before.

Yeah, I am glad you have come to this conclusion. It is a shame, that these sort of resources are only now available online. In the bad old days all we had was counselors & therapists, who in some cases caused more damage or reinforced guilt ( in some cases, not all or many, just some).

Just talking online with a friend who admitted a distinct increase in her sex needs after seeing a group of men sentenced recently for a similar case to her own. Wish we really knew the why of this. We can all make educated (and in some cases, educated by years of rigorous academia, .. but I am afraid they are guesses none the less).

I wanted for many years to be normal, but I have found much more peace in understanding that I am normal for what I went through and so are you.

Just wish our much vaunted society could be as compassionate as it thinks it is.

Take care.

Thank you so much for your reply. You unknowingly helped with something else I’ve been struggling with, recently. Because I’ve become aware that there are aspects of this that I have never dealt with, I decided to ask my GP for support and a referral to some counselling.

However, the fact that I’ve been thinking about it so much has given rise to a new and completely horrible sensation: I am constantly aware of my vagina in a way that feels like arousal. It’s disgusting. Normally, I spend the vast majority of my life unaware that it’s even there. Now, I’m so conscious, I want to tear it out.

Why do our minds play such horrible tricks on us?

Anyway, I have a referral to counselling (god knows how long that will take) and my anti-depressant dose has been upped, so here’s to a less traumatic future.

Flygirl wrote:

Why do our minds play such horrible tricks on us?

Anyway, I have a referral to counselling (god knows how long that will take) and my anti-depressant dose has been upped, so here’s to a less traumatic future.

Wish we knew. My friend has found peace in accepting it. It also comes and goes in accordance with triggers. For her, after having many children, working in the field and it still happens. We are very complex. Much more complex than many think we are. The Anthony Robbins of the world preach that we can have anything we want if we just work hard enough and this is kind of now accepted. Just not true.

See how you go with the counsellor, maybe try someone else if the first does not work out. I wish you the best. I think accepting that you cannot simply control the body on such complex stuff is part of the way there. This is not passing on the cookies and cake to loose weight, or getting up with the 5.00am alarm for the gym.

Just go easy on yourself, as the worst thing for us is the blame ourselves and start that terrible cycle of self loathing that can follow.

I think you will get there. I wish it was sooner rather than later.
take care.

It's hard to deal with, even when you know deep down you shouldn't feel guilty. When I was a much younger man, I was homosexually raped. I feel guilty that I was so scared I just co-operated with him completely. But the thing that burns is that, after he'd been raping me for several minutes, I realised that he was finally ejaculating. I was naturally disgusted, but I realised this meant the sex was nearly over. I couldn't help myself, and cried out "yes!". When he got his breath back, he said to me "glad you enjoyed it". That phrase has tortured me for years - "glad you enjoyed it".