🚩 CONTENT WARNING: This post discusses abuse, violence, and sexual assault.

🚩 Details: Events are mentioned using accurate terms but without graphic descriptions.

🚩 Media: There are no images.

🚩 Audience: Reader discretion is advised. Not suitable for children.

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My sexual assault occurred in 1984 in Frankfurt, Germany. I had been in-country less than two weeks, and this was my first duty station. I was 18, a private (PV2), my rapist was a sergeant. Alcohol was involved. I was not able to stop the attack physically. My first experience with hard alcohol and sex. My first experience with utter humiliation. My first experience of fearing for my life. 

That was the worst day of my life.

The second worst day of my life was the next day, when I was laughed at and called awful names because what happened the night before was presented quite differently to all of his friends.

Mine was unreported (fear, shame) and my personal behavior in the aftermath, and for a long time, was very self-destructive (drinking, risk-taking, promiscuity). I certainly “lived up to” what all the guys called me that day. 

This is the bare bones of it. I’m not even going to get into that first two years in the Army. All the horrible things said and done. By others. By me. Some of those horrible things had life-long consequences. I’m still working through it myself. But I wanted to write enough about it, to acknowledge my assault openly. The rest of it is another story, that may or may not get told.  That night fundamentally changed me as a person, and not for the better.

This particular experience wasn’t the only one I had when it came to inappropriate sexual contact either. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that it occurred twice. In 1988 the unit I was stationed with at Ft. Hood, deployed to Honduras. It was there, about 2 months in, that a fellow member of my platoon took it upon himself to enter my separate sleeping quarters and shove his hand down my pants. I awoke to him fondling me and whispering in my ear his plea for sex. I couldn’t even scream. I wanted to, and I couldn’t. My mind went back to that night in 1984 and I was terrified. I eventually whispered back that I would “tell” if he didn’t stop. He stopped and pulled his hand out and insulted me, calling me a fucking slut, and left me laying there sobbing. I ended up having to get up to throw up, until I was dry heaving outside, and still crying. Once I got myself back together, I went to bed. I did not report this. See, this is what I felt I deserved. I wasn’t good enough to like as a friend. I wasn’t good enough to be as proficient at my job as the guys were. What I felt was….that to my male colleagues, all I was good for was sex, wanted or unwanted, and all the crap jobs they didn’t want to do. My first duty station at Frankfurt taught me that.  I didn’t mean for this to be so wordy. I just wanted to show how one was connected to the other, and frankly, how it was connected to the next 30 plus years. 

This was followed by decades of difficulty keeping jobs long-term, great marital strain, difficulty keeping friendships long-term, unexplained deep depression resistant to therapy, parent and sibling relationships disintegrated, no coping skills, night terrors, and problems sleeping (and my first several years on social media were a nightmare as I could not handle anything negative, true or perceived, I would melt down and lash out)…..this ultimately resulted in me wanting to take my own life at the age of 50 (32 years later).  I just couldn’t “do it” anymore and I wanted it all to stop. 

The V.A. Crisis Line saved my life and they followed up with immediate care and treatment the very next day. Imagine my surprise when a caring medical team reached out to me…….and through integrated care, concentrated on my whole health. A primary care doctor to care for me, a psychiatrist to assess and treat me, and a psychologist (MST coordinator) to help me begin to unravel everything I have known about myself, since that awful day so long ago. 

I had been living with untreated PTSD for over three decades and all along had just thought I was bat shit crazy and defective and worthless. 

I’m 52 now. I’m still in treatment (therapy) and I’m still hanging in there with all my providers, that started this journey with me 2 years ago. My husband and three friends specifically, stuck with me, took me to my appointments, loved me, and didn’t judge me…..and I am now able to be grateful for them and their support….while at the same time actually believing I’m worthy of their love. 

Hardest thing I have ever done. 

Best thing I have ever done. 

There has been a lot absences from social media, and great difficulty following through on a lot of things (anything about my life outside of therapy)….the past two years. My blog was ignored entirely. I really didn’t feel like I had anything “to say” anymore. 

Sometimes I feel selfish because I have been “working on myself” all this time. Especially when I have set-backs and deeply ingrained coping habits bubble to the surface again.  Or, when I feel I have let others down. Being scattered is not my intention, and I hope my friends understand. I am slowly putting the brokenness of me back together again, with a lot of help. 

That having been stated, I am now beginning to feel brave enough to at least acknowledge publicly that this happened to me. I am NOT brave enough to share the nitty gritty of those nights outside of therapy, yet. 

I also feel brave enough to let others know that IT IS OKAY to reach out for help. You deserve a life free from despair. It is okay to do whatever you have to, to save yourself. 

You are worth it. 

I am, too. 

P.S. What a way to jump back into my blog, huh? I also want to mention that I have been in structured therapy for two years, I take medication for anxiety and depression, I am learning new coping skills for everyday stress. I reached out for help, and the V.A. reached back in a big way. I have a long way to go, but I am not on that path alone. And for what it’s worth, I don’t “feel” alone anymore. That feels pretty nice. 

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🚩 If you or someone you know needs support, resources are available at: RAINN (1-800-656-4673).

🚩 Resources and support are also available at the National Crisis Line at: Call or Text 988.

🚩 If you are a VETERAN, you can reach the free, confidential 24/7 VETERAN CRISIS LINE three ways:

🚩 Call: Dial 988, then press 1

🚩 Text: Send a message to 838255

🚩 Chat: Visit the Veterans Crisis Line Chat

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