So Much More Than a Mom recently wrote about the events that lead to her breakdown. That got me to thinking about my own little breakdown. Cyndi's climaxed after a 2-year series of unfortunate events; mine climaxed after 8 14 years of unfortunate events.

I *should* password-protect this post so that it doesn't end up being screen-shot or quoted on someone else's blog, but I'm tired of letting CAB hinder me.

Looking back, I almost find it hard to believe that I lasted almost 8 years before everything finally came to a head. There were many, many times when I thought I couldn't go on, when I felt suicidal, when I was wasting my body away to nothing, but still, I pressed on. I always functioned enough to go to school, to go to work, to do shows, to appear normal. If I really had to, I could trace the beginning of the breakdown further back to 1995, 14 years ago. Yes, let's begin there. That's 6 more years involved than just the first rape that I usually think of as starting the downward spiral. Really, though, it began the summer before my freshman year in college.

Read below at your own risk. May contain triggering things for some people (Date Rape, anorexia, sex, partner-rape, domestic abuse, stalking, suicidal feelings)

• 1995 - graduated high school, got my first broken heart, felt lost and depressed. Stopped eating and eventually was up to 4 hours of exercise every single day, in addition to taking 24 credit hours in college. I remember this girl giving a speech in Oral Communication about depression and prozac. I remember thinking that I had all the symptoms she described, but that I couldn't possibly be depressed. And, there was certainly no way I needed to take medication.
• 1996 - continued downward spiral of 1995. Stopped doing my homework for musicianship (music theory) & started staring out the window during class. My professor started asking people what was wrong with me, eventually asking me, myself. Wore all black most everyday. Somehow managed to pass Theory I & II while others failed. I remember crying while on choir tour in a store. My friends were trying on sunglasses and I started crying, saying that my face was too fat to wear sunglasses. Lynn, a sophomore, came up to me and asked if I had an eating disorder. She said I always wear black & that it takes one to know one. She was a bulimic. I said yes, that I was anorexic. It's probably the 1st time I admitted it to anyone. Finally, one day before band practice, I sat down in the hallway crying, and realized I couldn't take feeling like that anymore. I called my mom on the payphone & told her I was ready to go to the doctor. She'd been begging me to go. He ended up putting me on Prozac which made me feel different from the old me. I ended up flushing them down the toilet a lot.
• 1997 - 1998 school year - I was a voice major in college, which is fine as long as you don't wake up one day & decide that you can't sing anymore. Somewhere along the way, I decided that I wasn't talented and I couldn't sing. So, I stopped singing in choir and my voice lessons. My choir director & voice teacher pulled me out of piano class one day and made me call a counselor. Heh. I started going to free counseling at the clinic across from school, but I barely remember it. It seemed pointless. My individual counselor was like, "Tell me how you're feeling," which was not something I responded to very well. I believe I did group for awhile. There was another girl from campus and some older women. One woman was so depressed she couldn't hold down a job and I remember thinking, "Why am I in here? I'm nothing like these people." Somehow I either stopped going or they ended. I don't remember. Clearly I didn't learn anything memorable, except I'd always remember that other girl about my age any time I saw her around campus. I'd wonder if she was feeling less depressed. I got out of taking my final jury spring semester and was allowed to do it in the fall. Thank goodness. That spring, we did the musical A Little Night Music. The director kicked me out of the show for not going to a "Non-Mandatory" rehearsal. Yes. He weighed 450 lbs and had a crush on me and did not like that I had a boyfriend. So, he took it out on me by kicking me out of my junior show. Nice. This was the year I started dating IB, my 1st serious bf.
• 1999 - I got the post graduation slump after college much like I did after high school. I had a Bachelor of Music in Musical Theatre and had NO idea what I wanted to do with my life. I spent my 2nd summer at CLOC which pissed IB off. Up until that summer, he'd been a loving, caring bf. His inner controlling nature came out, however, when I decided against his wishes to go back to CLOC for a 2nd summer. He wanted me home to be with him. I ended up with my period for the entire 3 months that summer b/c before I left, he talked me into getting the depo-provera shot. Most women don't get there period after taking it. I was the .000928% that got my period EVERY SINGLE DAY for 3 MONTHS! This made me VERY sick. I had no energy and slept through meals, losing lots of weight. IB called & yelled at me everyday if I didn't call him right after a show or when he thought I should. I eventually couldn't take the meanness or controlling and broke up with him. My parents then FLEW TO MA from OH to try to BRING ME HOME so that I would go back out with IB!!! Yes, people! My own parents liked him MORE THAN ME! They had no clue how he was treating me & wouldn't listen when I told them. I refused to leave with them. When I returned from CLOC, who did my parents send to pick me up at the airport? IB! Nice. I stayed broken up from him after I returned although we still talked on the phone & saw each other occasionally. It's hard to break up with your 1st love. He lived 1 1/2 hrs away from me by this time. What I wanted was to move to NYC, but I knew I had to save up some money first. I followed up my stellar college career by working for $8/hr at the electronics warehouse where my dad was a manager. Yeah. I was so depressed I wore pj's to work and never did my hair, yet managed to be the hottest person there. Go figure.
• 2/15/00 - I was drugged and raped twice by JB. He was the 1999 Captain of the OSU Wrestling Team. Go look him up if you like. There's not much to say about this incident except that he drugged me, then raped me twice. I was so out of it. I knew he was having sex with me, but didn't really understand why or how I got into that situation.
• Aftermath of 2/15/00 - I didn't tell anyone for a month. I think I told Jen prior to everyone else finding out. I remember going to her house and sitting on her floor, refusing to take my coat off. I brushed off her requests to sit on her bed or take my coat off. She knew I was acting weird. And then, laughing, I said, "I was raped." I was laughing about it. She was confused b/c I was saying something so serious, but giggling like it was a joke. Clearly my emotions were all mixed up. I don't remember crying about it or anything up to that point. After the rape, I started drinking every night, drinking to get drunk. I eventually told IB what happened a month later b/c he kept asking me to come see him & I refused. I screamed what happened to me in his ear. I told him NOT to tell my parents. That was MY choice. The day after I told, I woke up to my parents coming in my room & shutting my door. They said I wasn't going to work that day & that they were taking me to my psychiatrist. He told them. I.WAS.SO.ANGRY. And what was my psychiatrist supposed to do? She just prescribed my depression meds - she didn't do counseling. I ended up with a rape counselor and I mostly don't remember anything we talked about, how long I went to her, etc. At the end of March, I went to visit IB (at least that's what I thought in my head) and ended up finding a job & moving in with him. He wanted me to move in so we'd be an item again. Me? I was simply running 1 1/2 away from the place I'd been raped, my mother who was acting like SHE was the one who'd been raped, my dad who was pretending everything was fine, and my brother who was freaking out about the whole situation (once again, I told my mother NOT to tell my 17-year-old brother. This set off a 2-year bipolar phase in his life. He still blames me to this day, although he'll never know that I NEVER wanted him to know. I was trying to protect him).
• Living with IB 2000 - Thus, IB picked up with the controlling behavior where he left off the prior summer. I wasn't allowed to get the bath mat wet. I didn't fold his socks correctly, the way his mother did. I didn't put the dishes away in the correct spot in the cupboards. He didn't even sleep in the same bed as me. I slept with our dog, Zoey, in the bedroom while he slept on the couch. He only came in the bedroom when he wanted to have sex with me. And he liked it to last forever, nevermind the fact that I'd been raped & didn't want to have sex. My mind would go out of my body and onto the ceiling while this happened. Dissociation became my friend. Then he started tying me down (which reminded me of being raped, since I was drugged & couldn't move). He started using sex toys on me which I didn't feel comfortable with and even did some sick things to himself. Thinking back, I see now that I was in a domestically abusive relationship. I was being partner-raped and I complied because my self-esteem was so low that I thought I deserved everything I was getting. He isolated me from my friends, my family, from everything but him. Zoey was my only solace during this horrible year. She was the only thing I could hold onto and that was there for me. My anorexia was back full-force and I developed IBS from the constant stress of everything. He never hit me, but he grabbed me and thinks like that. He blamed me for getting raped - his mother told my mother that it was my fault it happened to me. He punished me for getting raped. Then, he started cheating on me with the best friend of his ex-gf. She would call and leave messages on our answering machine saying "Hi, it's me." I was the only "me" in that house. Things culminated around Christmastime when he said he was driving home to visit his parents. I told him to call me when he got there. He never did - which was his fatal mistake. He wouldn't answer my calls - I thought he was dead somewhere on the side of the road. I called his parents. He, of course, wasn't there. His brother, a police officer, finally found him at that girl's house. I was done. I moved back in with my parents.
• The Stalking of 2000 - 2002 - I still don't talk about this. All I'm ready to say is that during this year, I was physically stalked by a guy from CA who would fly to OH to stalk me. He ended up raping me. I went up on the ceiling during that too. A month later, I was pregnant - I don't know if it was IB's or AZ's (the stalker/rapist). All I'm going to say is that I lost the baby and that is still something that greatly upsets me. I don't like to see sonograms or hold newborns, so please, don't ever ask me to. The physical stalking ended in 2001 when he got caught drunk-driving around the interstate at 4am trying to find my house. Imagine the explaining I would have had to have done if he'd made it to my parents' house. God saved me on that occasion. He ended up being sent back to CA. The physical stalking ended, but he continued to hack my website, email me, and im me under different names for the next year. It finally petered off. NO ONE in my life was ever the wiser of the existence of him for 2 whole years. It was like I was leading a double life, hiding this stalker away from everyone. I was afraid if anyone found out, they'd say, "She, obviously YOU are the one causing all of this because it keeps happening to you." I already felt guilty and shameful enough. I didn't need my mother and brother to start in on me.
• 2001 - After I moved home, I would go to J's (a friend from college) house to drink. I wouldn't say I was an alcoholic - just drinking a lot. One night, he said "Kiss me." At first I said, "No," but somehow it ended up happening anyway. Thus began our 14-year on & off love affair. He ignored me; I loved him. In my mind, he is tied into my rape period and years of PTSD. I had no self-esteem anyway - he just added to it. I was the sickest I've ever been. My hair was falling out from not eating and I could barely walk. I developed a heart problem because of this.
• 3/2003 - 12/2006 - I started officially dating M (J's best friend) after 2 years of messing around with each other. I won't go into the details of this relationship. No point. He's the only person I've ever been in love with and probably the only one that will ever be. I suffered from daily PTSD during this time. He constantly told me I needed to go to counseling to "fix" myself or he was going to break up with me. In May of 2006, we bought a house together. The week before Thanksgiving, he broke up with me. I don't think he expected me to actually move out a week later, but I did. I think that if I'd stayed, we would still be together, BUT, I know that I am worth much more than to be with a person who would toss me away like that after 6 years of being together. My heart was so broken that I was physically sick for many months. I only recently, after almost 3 years apart got 97% over M. I never want to go through that pain again. It was like mourning the death of someone, only that someone was still alive & just chose not to love me anymore.
• 1/2006 - Through a series of strange events, I figured out the correct spelling of my 1st rapist's last name. I ended up getting his email address from the web & confronting him about my rape via email. After several worried emails back to me on his part, he finally said, "I don't mean to hurt you or deny anything." I figured that was as close as I was going to get in getting him to admit it, so I ceased contact. Immediately, I felt numb and knew I needed help. 6 years after my rape, almost to the day, I called a Rape Hotline. I knew I needed help or I was going to lose it.
• 2006 - 2007 - I spent 1 1/2 years in counseling with Chris, my savior. She helped me figure out that my anorexia, cutting, freaking out, etc were all hard-core PTSD symptoms. I'd lived that way 24/7 for 6 years. I was tired. She taught me how to retrain my brain, did EMDR therapy, and helped me learn positive coping techniques. She even helped me realize that I probably had PTSD BEFORE I got raped, although it just got much worse afterwards. She made me realize how dysfunctional my childhood was and that my relationship with my mother was ANYTHING but normal. She saved my life, although she would say that I saved my own life with the tools she gave me. As with most relationships, mine ended because I changed during & after counseling. Although M had spent years telling me I needed to change, when I did, and for the BETTER, HE wasn't ready to change along with me. When one person changes, the other person in the relationship must be willing to change too. He liked being his workaholic, stubborn, mama's boy self and was not going to change for anyone. He didn't like the new assertive me. It challenged his manhood in some way. Whatever. Being single and living alone was the best thing for me at the time, although moving 3 times in one year was not. I started dating JK. He made me laugh and I needed to feel better.
• 2008 - Things at work were bad. My ex-best friend at work became my worst nightmare. It's a long story as to why, and I can honestly say it was all her and not me. She set off on a mission to get me fired. Her best friend at work was my Team Lead. You do the math. I spent every day on-edge, waiting to get the axe. Skipping ahead, I broke up with JK mid-summer because he said he "just wasn't attracted to me anymore." He liked "tan girls and" I was just "too pale." Did I ever once mention his fat stomach or his tiny dick while we were dating? NO, because I AM NOT superficial. I broke up with him. One night I found him drunkenly crying & waiting for me on my doorstep at 2am after I'd been out for the night. I was still angry with him for saying those things and sent him home. In September, his mom got very sick and almost died. I believe that almost a year later, she is still in a nursing home at age 51. JK & I started hooking up again and I was either at the hospital with him or we were at one another's houses. I spent the night in the hospital waiting room on more than 1 occasion, was there for her surgeries, etc. Apparently that wasn't good enough, b/c he got mad that I didn't post about his mom's condition enough on my site, asking for prayers. Silly me - I thought actually BEING THERE was more important than blogging about it. I thought he wanted to be back with me, thought he'd come to his senses, so to speak. Nope. He just needed someone to support him while he was down.
• 10/2008 - In October, I finally lost my job. I was moneyless & jobless. JK texted me the 2nd week in October saying, "I just can't have a relationship right now. Everything is just too much with my mom." Stupid me, although I was upset that he told me this VIA TEXT after 1 1/2 years of being together, I believed him. The truth was, he met CAB on facebook speeddating. I didn't even know this prior to having my little breakdown & going into the hospital. I spent the week after losing my job/getting dumped by JK via text message suicidal. I'd finally had enough. For YEARS, things had been coming at me and I just kept going and going and going and going and I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't be strong anymore. I couldn't carry on. I was done. I spent an entire week constantly thinking about shooting myself in the head. I tried in vain to get into counseling somewhere, anywhere. I knew that the little snowball of my life had been following me down the mountain for so many years was about to cause an avalanche in my life. I could feel the breakdown coming on and I was desperate to stop it like I had so many times before. On that Friday, I LOST IT on the way home from my newly acquired job. LOST IT. I was crying hysterically, trying to find my mom. I called home & her cell and she wasn't answering. I called Jen. I called poor 77-year-old Dottie & freaked her out. I was incoherent. I just knew I was going to kill myself if someone didn't come over and get me. I called my doctor, trying to get an emergency appointment. I just knew I needed help AND FAST. I told the receptionist that I was bipolar and needed to see Dr. Morris about getting new meds ASAP. She responded saying, "Dr. Morris is out of the office dealing with her own bipolar child. She can't help you." I felt even MORE alone and lost after that. I finally called JK after not speaking to him for a week b/c he lived close by. I wanted him to drive me to my parents' house.  He answered and told me his was "out of town at a coworker's house." I found out a few days later, while in the ER, that what that REALLY meant he was out of town with his NEW girlfriend. That just added more fuel to the fire. I finally got ahold of my mom who came to get me. I spent the entire weekend under watch. I slept with my parents in the same bed because they were afraid I would kill myself if they weren't watching me closely. Monday, I went to work, but got in to see another doctor at my Dr's office. She took one look at me and said I should go to the hospital. I told her how I'd been constantly thinking about suicide for a week. So, mom and I went to the ER where I spent the entire night because they didn't have a room for my on the psych ward. I spent 2 days there and decided I was ready to come home. My new job fired me for missing a week of work, so I once again had no job.

After the Breakdown:

• 10/2008 - 2/2009 - I spent these months jobless and taking in NO unemployment compensation. My 2nd job contested it all the way and I lived on the handouts of my parents. I gained a lot of weight just sitting and being depressed during those months. No one was hiring because of the economic crisis. I started counseling with one counselor, but she forgot to schedule me for an entire month, so I switched to someone better.
• 4/2009 - I started receiving strange emails which I eventually figured out were coming from JK's new gf, CAB. She spent the next 3 months stalking my site and my emails online. Apparently, she'd been reading my website ever since JK and I broke up. I wish I could post the crazy-ass things she sent me. I eventually had to make a police report against her. Dealing with her brought up all the details of my being stalked before. CAB was making screen-caps of my blog and posting it on her site. She even took my butterfly theme & made it her theme too. CRAZY! Then she started writing that I was stalking HER instead of the other way around. Hilarious. I didn't even know who she was before I started getting those emails. She even had her OWN DAD sending me emails. Crazy. I'm sure writing about this on here will stir her up again, but I am telling THE TRUTH. It may not be the twisted truth that's in her crazy mind, but it is REALITY. I don't think she understands what that means. Anyway, I eventually stopped caring about what she was doing or saying. I haven't really mentioned it publically on my blog until now. Whatever. She can have JK. I certainly don't want him. And boy did he get his bad karma back for the way he treated me. He got it back and then some. He has to marry this girl, because if she's crazy enough to stalk his EX-gf, what will she do if he breaks up with her?

So, since then, I have a good job and am trying to catch up after months of not making any money. Things are ok right now. I'm doing biofeedback to help myself even more. I'm choosing to remain single and have no desire to date. I just want to be me and to make me the best me I can. I'm working towards the elusive "Happy" that I've spent my life seeing other achieve, but never me.