THE DRUGGING & RAPE OF PHOTOGRAPHER SUSAN HUNTER - CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 18

I thought except for the first visit to a new psychologist Dr. P later this afternoon, that I would have the day off. It's starting to feel like one of my two days off is full of detectives, or psychological visits, or courtrooms, or rape centers, or police precincts. That I don't get a full two days off on my "weekend" anymore to do absolutely nothing if I want, so I decided to take today off. I have to wait for the fingerprinting before I go back to the judge anyway. I was getting ready to call A, my advocate and psychologist at the center and figure out next Monday when she called me. She won't be working there past next Thursday, so next Monday will be the last time I see her. She can't explain to me why, but she says it's better for her to move on at this point. I think she quit. What ever the higher ups did to make her quit makes me want to punch someone in the face. It really sucks, but I'm not going to let her hear that in my voice. I know I will be ok, and I know ultimately, so will she. It just sucks thinking she would always be there at the center for me if I needed to talk to someone who fully understood everything going on. This just sucks.
She was the one on the phone with me when I tried to kill myself. I honestly don't remember. I barely remember T walking in the door.

She was the one who called me after the angry journal dropping off at the little window incident.
She was the one who gained back my trust and in a lot of ways helped me to learn to trust people again as a whole.

Even if she wasn't available, she always made sure someone was if I needed an advocate or a shoulder to cry on. Damit.

Things never seem to hit me right away. It's like it takes time to really sink in, but I already know this sucks. Yes, I am well aware I only had a visit or two left anyway, but I don't want to loose A in my corner. To who ever the higher up that pushed her into quitting, screw you. You’re a dumbass and you will never realize how amazing of a person she is and how much of a loss you will suffer for letting her go. Fuck you dumbass.


For what ever reason I have always been raised to be aware of my surroundings, and I have always been aware of what I felt. A warned me of acute sadness, and her leaving has only compounded it. I feel like my knees have been cut out from under me. I'm starting to dislike food. I start to eat, then I just feel gross for eating. It's worse than just loosing my appetite. I am well aware this is bad. What else can I drag into the pile of screwed up? Now an eating disorder? Today was a bowl of rice cereal, half a chicken Caesar wrap, and four chicken hot wings. I hate myself for the cereal. It was unnecessary in my eyes. I know that is wrong. I'm not sure which part of me knows, my brain or my heart, but something in me knows I'm just trying to gain control. There is so much I can't know of what's going on around me, what's involving me, and the stress of so much unknown. I don't have control over shit in my life. Now I'm loosing A. God this sucks. I have to be stronger than this. I have to be rational. She's not dead for God sakes. She's just not working at the center anymore is all. I need to reel this crazy train back in. I need to get myself eating again instead of a strangle hold on food. I'm just not hungry. I just want to curl up in my bed until all this shit passes. I want to be able to stick my head out of my sheets and my life is back. None of this crazy shit has happened. It was all a bad dream. Ed and Naylor never did what they did to me. There were never courtrooms, or detectives, or rape centers. I will never know what kind of a person Ed is, or know a broken heart from loosing A at the center because I never met her. I was never betrayed, or let down, or kicked around, or raped. I constantly dream about what it would be like to just wake up and none of it happened. Then I picture trying to hang out with Ed again, and it creeps in. The knowledge that the sight of him fills me with rage and I want to vomit all at the same time. Naylor makes me freeze and turn my head and ball up my fists in anger and hatred. I can't undo what had happened. Even deep in that space in my mind. Even in the safe space of my brain, they have violated and my life will never be the same again.  I just need to breath and eat.

Deuteronomy 22 - if a virgin is raped in the countryside, do nothing to her as she has done nothing wrong. If a virgin is raped in a city, and fails to cry out, stone her to death as she did nothing to protect herself.

It's a good thing I'm not a virgin then because I was raped in a city and did not cry out. This means I should be stoned to death according to the bible. It doesn't mention anything about women who are no longer virgins, but I'm sure I can drum up a four year old girl who was raped in the city and failed to cry out for you to throw rocks at until she is dead because she didn't do enough to stop her own rape. This is what the bible says to do anyway. Which causes a lot of confusion for me. The only part of the bible stated to be written by God is the ten commandments. One of which says "though shall not commit murder". Isn't stoning someone to death murder? Why is the rest of the book written by man given more weight than the part actually written by God? Not one of the commandments states that a rape victim should be stoned to death. Guess its a good thing I wasn't a virgin when I was raped, or I would have to become pretty good at ducking. I have to wonder how many poor women suffered that fate. First rape, then having rocks thrown at you painfully breaking all your bones until you die from internal bleeding? Those poor women. God, let them be in a better place and never know suffering again. Now at least all we have is the psychological stoning that happens after a rape. How its your fault and your going to destroy someone else's life because you had supposedly just had sex with them. At least I can pick myself up and continue on after the mental beat down.
It should read "Should a woman cry out rape, a tire iron shall be given to her and she shall beat the one who raped her. If she beats him to death, she was not lying and do nothing. If she can not beat him to death, take the tire iron away from her and make her to apologize in public". Isn't that the reversal of what it says? When do victims get to do something wrong and run away free and clear for it like we let rapists do now?

One more thing to cross off the crazy check list. I have an advocate for VOC. When I was talking to Det. M the auto detective, he gave me the phone number of the advocate there. I still can’t walk through the grey door. I have all my meetings with him in the main lobby of the station. I could care less if someone overhears that I am here because of a rape. I could give them a link to this journal if they really wanna know. I’m just happy that’s one more thing I can cross off my list.

"You will have to go back downstairs and fill out the paperwork all over again". The bailiff from the same courtroom is looking me squarely in the face. He doesn't remember me, or if he does, he isn't showing it. I remind him how he told me if anything changed to come right back to this courtroom. Well if things have changed, it's a new restraining order.  I want to cry already.
The really nice auto detective told me to not wait on the fingerprinting. It's so backed up, it could be months before I find out the results. I'm not going to wait months for Ed to do something to me. I went back to the same courtroom I tried to kill myself after the last time. I had a silly day dream that this bailiff would remember me and help me. He doesn't.

I go downstairs and fill out the same paperwork, about the rape, text messages, window, and drawing on my door. I ask for the fee waiver, and I'm told to go to a different courtroom this time. It's the same as domestic restraining orders. It's the "wrong" courtroom from last time and where we had to race in. They will handle domestic and civil restraining orders now. I have to wait an hour and a half for a response to my request.
I'm so sick of this shit. I really am.

The order is granted.

The sheriffs fee is waived so the sheriffs office will serve him. All

I have to do is show up to court. The same courtroom as before. I can do this. I know I can. Court will be three months and one day shy of the last time around. I have already made my promises that no matter what happens, I won't do what I did last time. That I will just pick myself up and keep moving forward no matter what. I will not try to kill myself because at least this time around, I don't have to face returning to the bullying. For that, my mind is stronger.

 narcis·sist (noun) A psychological condition characterized by self-preoccupation, lack of empathy, and unconscious deficits in self-esteem.
At the best and most basic, this will describe most rapists and drug addicts. At the worst with a rapist, it will become someone who is psychopathic. The ones who torture a woman before they rape them. There are three kinds of rapist categories that I came across and it seems to make sense for a shortened version of rapist 101. Angry, power, and sadistic. With all three of these, they are all narcissistic. It's always all about them. In my last visit with A today, (who by the way has given me a link to stay in contact with her so I don't feel so put out with her leaving), we discussed this personality sign. Stay away from narcissistic people since they lack empathy for other people and are guaranteed to leave you in a bad spot in life. Drug addicts are also narcissistic. They only care about themselves and their next high. Watch out for narcissists in life and don't let them close to you. I can guarantee it will only end badly.

I also had to talk about being jumpy. In the brain of anyone dealing with some serious trauma there is a....ummmm.....there is a specific part of your brain that gets turned on. I can't remember what the part is called, but it puts you in high alert mode. A shadow goes by me when I'm doing dishes and I jump. I have to remind myself it's just a bird flying by. Naylor isn't able to levitate to my second story window. He's not a fucking magician. I have to rationalize with myself. Identify what is making me freak out and realize if it's really a problem or not. I have a hard time taking showers. It's a vulnerable thing to take a shower. Your totally naked. I have to check all the locks on my door before I shower. Luckily I had a dream long before any of this started. I dreamt I was taking a bath and some guy walked into my bathroom with a piece of wire between his two hands to strangle me with. I threw a bunch of bath water in his face and then beat him with the shower rod. It helped me to have a plan because of this dream. If your a victim and your having a hard time with something you need to deal with, then do the same thing. Come up with a weapon and a plan. A shower nozzle in the eyes is a weapon and will blind them long enough to hit them and get help. The bottom line is, you shouldn't have to be scared of your own shower or shadow. That part of the brain is just the alarm going off. It's also making me suspicious of guys around me. I have to push past that. I know I was betrayed by one man who I thought was a friend, but I can't blame all men in my life for it. The guys I work with would never hurt me and are not a threat. Neither is N, my neighbor and friend, but part of my brain is having a hard time with this. It wants me to see all men around me as a threat and I can't let that happen.

So I was as blind to Ed being an addict as he was blind to me being raped. I like my new psychologist. She is tough, but she is good. That's a hard pill to swallow. Of course he lied to himself, me, and the police, because other wise he would have to accept responsibility to the fact he failed me and allowed me to be raped.

He in fact helped it. And instead of taking responsibility and caring about my well being, his loyalty shifted to sticking up for the piece of shit that raped me because he is a drug addict. He only cares about getting high, and that's what Naylor is, his next high.

Detectives have to take a psychological test to become detectives. I don't know how often they take one after that, but SCU detectives have to constantly weed out the liars who screw everyone else from the real rape victims. I got lumped in with the liars because of Ed and his addiction until I tried to kill myself and the blog was published. The two detectives I got were burned out long before I got here.
Naylor is a control rapist. He rapes to feel control because he lacks control elsewhere in his life and probably has for a long time. He was this way long before he ran into me.

The bottom line is, honestly, none of this shit is about me. All of these men were fucked up long before I got here. All their crap cumulated on me, but this whole situation is honestly not about me. How's that for a mind fuck? It's about a narcissistic drug addict who can't take responsibility for his life, even to the point he screws over the things he loves. It's about a rapist who feels no control and has to rape women to get off and assert himself because he is a pathetic fucked up looser otherwise. It's about two burned out detectives who turned a job protecting people into a game of  "teach the lying bitch a lesson", because of the women who cry rape that weren't, as the only way they have control in this world. It's all about them and their failures, and them failing me. It wasn't even about me to begin with. Talk about a messed up processor. I guess deep down somewhere in me I knew all this. It just takes hearing it from someone else and having your anger diffused before it hits home. I don't want my anger diffused. I don't want to be understanding of these mother fuckers. I want to hate them all with a blind rage. For me, it is all about me and fuck them.