#NEARLY 20 YEARS OF MY LIFE LOST TO A HAZE OF ANTIDEPRESSANTS

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A PILL TO MAKE YOU NUMB A PILL TO MAKE YOU DUMB A PILL TO MAKE YOU ANYBODY ELSE ALL THE DRUGS IN THIS WORLD WON'T SAVE HER FROM HERSELF

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Why

This post is going to be somewhat controversial. To be able to tell my story, I had to create a new email address, create a false name, and create a separate tumblr profile.

Let’s get to the point. I was sexually abused by an older family member from the age of six until about two weeks before my fifteenth birthday. We lived right across the street from my abuser. When my cousin came forward and told her parents of the abuse SHE was suffering, the abuse I suffered came to light as well as the abuse of other children in the family. My parents moved us away from our abuser and then we had to go through a lot of counseling legally. Because my abuser had instilled in me that he would find a way to hurt me and my family if I told, I gave very minimal detail on my abuse. Thankfully, they didn’t need explicit details. To this day, I still have nightmares.

I am a former Mormon. When the abuse came to light, my bishop sat down with me one on one. He explained to me that it is OK to be sad and scared, but that I had to remember that when I was in the spirit world living with God, I CHOSE the life I would live. I CHOSE my trials and hardships. I CHOSE to be sexually abused. I was told that I was such a strong spirit and that God KNEW I could survive the abuse. Because of this, I chose that life so that someone who wasn’t as strong as I was, wouldn’t have to go through it. I believed this for just shy of fifteen years. That’s nearly half of my life time. When I was a 16, my parents took me to a counselor. I went a handful of times before I basically decided for myself that I wasn’t going anymore and I forced myself into the background so that my brother could get the full attention that he needed for the abuse he suffered. When I was 17, I had finally isolated myself so much that I felt as if no one knew I was even there. I went with the motions. I did my best not to make waves. One night, I was sitting in my room thinking about what my bishop had told me. I did not feel strong. I felt weak. I started to cry. My dad came in to say goodnight and noticed that I seemed upset. He and my mother did their best to get it out of me. I convinced them that I was just stressing over graduation that was happening in a little over a month, I decided I had drawn too much attention to myself. I found an unopened bottle of Midol, and I took the whole thing. I then went and kissed my parents goodnight for what I thought was the last time. I collapsed while I was hugging my dad, and I was rushed to the hospital. Thankfully, I survived that suicide attempt. I know that you’re probably thinking, “If you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself, why attempt suicide?” What you have to remember is that I was 17. I had been sexually abused for nearly nine years. My trusted church leader had basically told me that my abuse was my fault. In my warped 17 year old brain, I thought my family would mourn me for a few months and then move on to continue helping the other children in our family. I know better now, but back then? It seemed like the only way to make things better. As messed up as that sounds to a normal non abused human brain, it really seemed like the only option. 

When I was 20, I tried to drown out my past with partying. One night, I was so drunk I decided to stay at the friends house who threw the party. I remember being in a haze as he begged me to have sex with him, I repeatedly said no, but he kept begging. He slid his hand up my skirt and used his other arm to hold me down. I was too drunk to fight, and despite my saying no over and over again, he still forced himself on and inside of me. I decided to go BACK to the Mormon church and I went to my bishop (a new one at this point) and I told him my story. I felt so ashamed. I remember him telling me that I had been raped. It had never crossed my mind that what happened to me was rape. I remember him trying to console me. But what I remember most vividly was him telling me that this was why the Mormon church had the stance it had on alcohol. So again, I felt like this was all my fault, and like a lost puppy, I put my metaphorical tail between my legs and started going back to church and following Mormon law. After all, I did go against the church and drank, therefore, I ALLOWED myself to be in that situation. I had ALLOWED the environment for the rape to happen.

Fast forward to last year (2017) I was three months shy of my 30th birthday. I was dependent on my antidepressants and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I talked to my Mormon husband and I told him my experience. I told him how all these years, I have lived with not only the guilt I felt for the other kids being abused, but I also lived with the burden that I chose this life. And because I chose this life, he was suffering, and our kids (if we had any) would suffer. Just to let you know, with most antidepressants, they advise you from becoming pregnant as the prescriptions could harm an unborn child. My husband and I had always wanted children, but we couldn’t because of MY CHOICE! My husband did not agree with what my bishop had told me all those years ago. While he knew that this was the way the Mormon church felt, he had no idea that I had personally been told that and he felt bad for me. He had also discovered inconsistencies with the doctrine taught. Because of my history and the inconsistencies, I left the Mormon church, and I have never been happier.

I am not saying that all Mormons are bad. I know many Mormons who know my story and sympathize. The most common phrase I hear is that “God is perfect, but humans aren’t”. I understand that. But to be told twice that I CHOSE to be abused/assaulted is not OK. It wasn’t by just ONE bishop either. It was TWO. AND my husband confirmed that this is what they (priesthood holders) are taught to say in those situations. If you are Mormon (or even if you aren’t) and you believe the way my bishops did, then OK. If you can live with that, then you are stronger than I am. I, on the other hand, could not live with believing that these events were my fault. I wasted years of my life believing that something was wrong with me and that I was unlovable because of these events. I refuse to live that way anymore. And for me, that means walking away from Mormonism.