one year…

bike week 2008
Originally uploaded by jayfherron


It may very well be that I am obsessed. Maybe I should leave it all alone…perhaps this is what happens when you spend the rest of your life alone-you just gnaw at things and let them gnaw at you. To be able to let it go would be peace.
Tomorrow will be one year from standing in the hall across from the door where Charlotte came to get me when the clerk at the desk bounced by and gave me a look and and said…”What are you doing here”? He gave me this look and I’m not sure what I said other than…”it’s Tuesday”!
Something like…”No no…not until I call you and let you know” something like…”Charlotte’s not here and we’ll call you”!
That was pretty much it.
I remember trying to exit the building by the stair at the hall by the clerks office-I thought I’d been down the stair many before,but this time it seemed the doorway was not there,or…but I went down the stair and had to go back up-and passed the clerk-and through the building and out.
The following week the conversation was less gentle and more direct-like with a look that says ‘are you stupid’…and I was told that they would call me when appointments resumed.
They never did.

I cannot express how much of me got compressed into the booth of a room where I had been seeing Charlotte well into three years-each week. I cannot explain the way my mind works-it plays with me and grinds into itself these perspectives of what might be-it analyzes each thing and eventually builds itself into a mess.
After almost two months went by and no appointments I began to believe Charlotte had done the worse-even convincing myself she was no longer able to handle all of our lives story and it took her.
It was wrong-the thoughts that built,but the unfairness of what had happened was seriously hard to take.

The way things happened in my life from even just a boy with my sister dying when I was not much older than six-and Mr.Hoke blasting his brains out not much more than two years later…and then there is the other parts-it even exhausts me to think on them…and yet I do,and always will. They are all hard to believe it happened in one guys life-hard enough for even me to believe, and yet Charlotte listened and and heard so much and believed…that was the part that amazed me is how she believed me and could talk about things that she remembered about what I had said the weeks before,and seemed the only person interested enough to do so.

At that abrupt end my entire spirit ended any involvement with the VA. The trust I had that was held together with hope that there would be a better way coming went out with the wind….the trust that had built up was shaken so bad.
I last saw Charlotte three months later.
She told me the reason things were the way they were-she tried to help a veteran outside of the box,and it backfired. The VA answered with pulling all of us out of her program-an incredible liability to our mental health.

I have many times said that I wished I never said a word about my rapes in barrack D.
A person has no way of imagining what it felt like the first morning-to be woken in a urinal and having someone yelling at you to hurry-your body in pain…your pants and under drawers in a tangle on the ground in front of you-rolled in a way they took time to loosen and time to comprehend what happened-to walk past snickering men to be taken to another man who merely shrugs it off with a chuckle.
Get used to it…the only answer or explanation or offer…and then that is somewhat how you live your life. Trying to get used to it?
That moment walking back in there-into barrack D,was like one of those ‘survival’ shows on ‘tv’ where they make someone walk through a floor covered with snakes. That is what I felt that morning-as I walked to the bunk I had chosen the evening before I had to walk past everyone…every one who knew,and when I walked by the main one,the words ‘hello mister’ makes me sick-still.
I don’t know why -even yet- did I say one damned thing….but now it is so big in my life as to always remind me.
I only had the energy to trust Charlotte over the three years. To tell the whole thing to have someone hear it all the way through. I would not be able to do it again.

There is a movie called ‘We were the Mulvaneys’ with Beau Bridges (based on the novel of the same title-by Joyce Carol Oates) in the lead role. It is the story as how as a successful man in his industry fell because of the rape of his daughter-they went from riches to great losses,his life fell apart-the whole family fell apart.
It may only be a fictional story-that part I am not sure,but the story was so correct on how rape tears up so much and destroys with such confusion. The crime isn’t over when the moment ends-it continues and continues and continues like a fester,rotting your life.
I knew the story was accurate-I know how it feels in me,how I perceive best because I was there first hand and know my side of it and know what it was like to be there. So whoever wrote the movie had understanding.

“Lillie’s that fester smell far worse than weeds”
William Shakespeare

2 Responses to “one year…”

  1. Bug Girl Says:

    I can’t say much other than I’ve been there (sort of), and you have my sympathy and best wishes.
    From the perspective of 25 years since my attack–things DO get better.

    Remember that you were not the person that did anything wrong.
    You’ve probably heard this before, but sometimes it’s nice to get a reminder.

  2. jayherron Says:

    ….a person needs a hug every once in a while-actually,more often than that…thank you,I really needed that.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: