My name is Laure, I live with Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) and I am not ashamed of saying it.

I’m telling you this because I know there’s a lot of you reading this that are living with the same disorder as I have. It does not define me, but it surely shapes who I am. I’ve struggled PTSD and GAD for about 8 years now. Still, it’s not always easy, but I found my own way to live with it. I want you to know that it’s possible to live with this illness even if it’s not all sunshine and rainbows every day. We all have our own way to survive this, but I’ll show you how to embrace it. Our story is not the same (I would definitely love to hear yours) but this is one reason of all and it’s important to speak out. I’m telling you this story because I want you to understand why I am like I am. This is the story of How I Met Anxiety…

 

I wrote this text when the #metoo movement spread in October 2017.

Yes, I’ve been raped at 17 years old. It was also my first time … and it was a roommate. After High School, I went to Nova Scotia to improve my English (and yes meet Sidney Crosby, but that’s another story). Instead of it, I lost my virginity…

At first, I couldn’t believe it… It didn’t happen like in the movies. Nobody kept me in a house basement, beat me almost to death or anything like that. It was simply a guy that I lived with. At first, he was nice. We went to the beach, had a really good time and then went back home. At this moment, he asked me if I wanted to watch a movie with him, in his room. I said yes, why not? We start kissing but not long after he made a move. I told him that I didn’t want to do anything else than kissing. He was fine with it, but… He tried again… I said the same thing plus that I’m not ready to have sex or anything else… He was still fine with it… He tried again but with more conviction… And there it is, I got scare… I couldn’t do anything, couldn’t move or talk. It’s not that I changed my mind and let him do the work but simply that I didn’t want it and I wasn’t ready, so I froze. After a while, my mind came back and I pushed him away. I left the house but I didn’t even know where to go or even what to do.

 

How could this happen to me?

I wasn’t looking for this… Was I?

I felt so much guilt, I thought that it was my fault. That I deserved what happened. Maybe I shouldn’t have said yes for the movie or more, for the kissing. I was looking forward for this to happen…

 

You may think that it’s stupid to say that, but at first it’s what I really thought. I walked for about thirty minutes before I realized that I needed to talk to someone. I was in another city, with no friends and no one to speak in French with (yes, french is my native language). At the same time, he was texting me to say that he was sorry… I really thought that he was… I wasn’t planning on throwing away his life by telling the police, but I should have. Later I’ve learned that he was convicted for a crime before and after this event… I don’t know why but it doesn’t matter. I should have said something, but I was afraid. I was scared that he meant that he was sorry and that I was overreacting. Maybe I hadn’t been raped, it was only a misunderstood.

 

After walking for about 30 minutes, I found a woman in the street that helped me. She called a friend that spoke a little bit of French, enough to explain to the woman what had happened to me. Then, the woman came with me to the hospital, but she had to leave me because she also needed to be with her child (which I understand). She made sure that I was in good hand at the hospital. I was really lucky, I had great nurses that took care of me, but they didn’t really know how to deal with what happened to me. I didn’t want to report him to the police so there wasn’t much else to do either. I had been tested for every STBBI just in case but then I had to go back to my apartment, where he was… I had nowhere else to go, and all of my stuff was there. I was alone, and I had to go back out there… I’ve waited four days in my room without going out for eating or else.  I wasn’t even able to sleep in case that he would come in my bedroom. I was so scared to leave my bedroom, it was my only “safe” place of the house. I’ve finally decided to go back to my home town, so I’ve waited until 4am to make sure that everybody would be asleep to leave without saying anything to anybody. I left the house in the middle of the night to go back home. I had to drive 12 hours in a row; it was a hard thing to do but I wanted to be home so badly.

 

But at home…. What could I do? I knew that I would have to tell someone.

My parents, my friends?

 

Hopefully, at home there are no such things as a taboo subject. My family has open mind with sexuality, and I knew that I should tell them at least to feel a little bit better. But how would they react? It was hard to imagine telling them this kind of thing, mostly because I felt like that it was not a real raped…

 

Back home, I thought that I would simply forget everything, and it would be like nothing happened. I was so wrong. After I was raped, I changed a lot. A lot of things happened to me. I took a lot of drugs and I’ve done a lot of stupid things to try to forget. I just wanted to be like anyone else. Plus, I first thought that I didn’t need any help because it wasn’t really a raped… After a year, I’ve started anxiety and panic attacks. I finally decided to get some help, and I met a psychologist for the first time. It’s at this moment I realized that it was true… I have been raped. She explained to me that majority of victims knows their rapist… It’s also rare that it happens like in the movies. I was normal… I mean… It was a normal way to happen, but It wasn’t the only way…

THIS IS THE STORY OF AN ANXIOUS GIRL

 

This is only the begging. On my further post I’ll talk more about this anxious girl who is now living with anxiety pretty much every day. Not all days are good but mostly, not all days are BAD.

If you want to know more about how I’m struggling with PTSD and GAD follow me.

 

 

Comment below your story of “How You Met Anxiety”.

Now that you know more about me, let’s start that journey together and read my other posts.