This is where I begin.
I am possibly going to try to take things in a new direction and have some ideas of creating more out of this blog. I have been holding off due to changes in work and also not knowing where to begin. But I am going to begin by telling a story. This is a story of life and distractions. It is a difficult subject but really it is no big deal and something that happens too often. I am going to speak of it as something that isn't that big of a deal anymore, but yet its an important story to tell, subject, and an important beginning. I tell this story in hopes to eventually help others, reach out about the subject matter, and also it be somewhat of a direction for a new blog style/purpose.
Like many college graduates, I was still unsure of where I wanted to go. I knew my passions and my dreams, but I didn't know my path. I was lost as many recent college graduates can relate. I was lost career wise and relationship wise. I was talented and used my creativity, but was trying to figure out my way, passing time, and trying to not be too anxious.
I was bringing apple pie and ice cream to a friend and going to use their dryer. I enjoyed sharing baked goods with others. I felt joy in experimenting in the kitchen, and believed everyone needs a nice warm dessert to feel comfort. Laundry machines had a long wait in my complex. I was tired of waiting and knew I had a busy week ahead. After waiting around for a free machine, darkness came before I knew it. I was leaving in the night. But many people were in and out of the building throughout the night. The apartments were full of others my age coming and going, working overnights, and often outside for a smoke. I felt comfortable in my area. It was a hectic day. My brother was getting married in four days and I was to be a bridesmaid. I spent all day constructing 300 wedding programs, sewing them to bind and I knew I needed my rest. I was in a hurry, but went about things as I often did. I'd come and gone late at night before. I felt safe.
As I reached to set pie in my car, I was grabbed from behind. I screamed and dropped my apple pie. It flew slowly in the air and I watched it splat on the ground. As I looked up, I saw a young dark man with a knife. "Shut up! Get into the car," he said in a deep voice as he held his knife straight up.
In this position, you go into survival mode. What went through my head, at that time was mostly blank. I froze I suppose. I thought "Oh No!" But subconsciously it was "I need to live, help me god." I guess that was mainly my first reaction, I remember thinking the second I saw his face, "I've heard about you. I know what happens next. Oh no, you are real!" I instantly was praying in my head. I don't think I knew who I was talking to, but I was praying "please any way out of this." This is what went through my head as he forced me to drive him to a different location. "Please let me live." He didn't want my cards, my car, he wanted much more... power, and to satisfy himself. He asked how old I was and what came out of my mouth was that I was 18. Why didn't I say younger, It probably wouldn't have mattered. He asked if I had any money. I scrambled through my purse and spilt change all over and found a ten dollar bill. "How do I get out of this? How do I get out of this?" I had thoughts of purposely crashing my car. I pulled into a random driveway thinking maybe I could run to the door, he screamed "What are you doing? WHO LIVES HERE? WHO LIVES HERE?" and shoved the knife into my face as he clenched onto me. I was trapped in my vehicle.
I listened to him. I just wanted to live. I tried another time to escape and he showed the knife. I knew I wanted to live. I felt half there. When I told him I felt I couldn't breath, somehow I thought he'd realize I was about to faint and care. I thought he'd realize I was a human being. That when I told him I was just bringing pie and ice cream, he'd realize I was a kind person minding my own business. When I said these things a noise came out of his mouth "pshhhhh" and he shrugged because he had no care. He told me to turn many corners and I asked where we were going, shaking and in fear. Why did I bother asking. He told me to drive into an empty parking lot to an old Forestry Building. He said to pull way to the back and turn my car and lights off. As my lights take awhile to turn off automatically, he yelled and I felt the need to apologize. I tried to escape out my door as he said to get into the backseat. But with a knife shoved in my face I stepped into the back from inside. While doing so, he grabbed my butt and said "aww yeah, I'd like a piece of that," as he stared me up and down like a piece of meat. A large laundry basket full of clothes was in the way and he made me move it, he wasn't going to do anything. He watched every move I made closely with a knife ready. He said to take off my panties. I knew what was happening and felt outside of my body, that I couldn't control anything, it was just happening. So I said ahead of myself "I am having my period, I have a tampon, should I take it out?" He made that weird noise again "pshhhhh." And tells me to get over and give him oral. But he said it worse, he said in a deep voice "COME SUCK MY DICK." And then he performed vaginal intercourse. I stared off to the side and felt nothing. I felt like I was actually hovering over my body, watching. He asked if I'd ever had sex before. And I blurted out the number of serious relationships, which was very few based on my morals. He kept going and asked "Does your boyfriend like it like this?" He said in loud frustration, "You're dry as fuck." Then he asked me to turn over. Nothing seemed to please him. Minutes seemed like hours. I felt like I was in a dream. I felt, I must get out of this. I kept silent. For in a way, I think I felt like guardian angels were there. I knew someone was watching over me and even though I couldn't help what was going on, someone was helping me get through it. Or I knew I needed to survive and I did what I had to. As nothing pleased him, He went back and sat on the far passenger side and asked again for me to come over and give him oral. He kept holding the knife straight up in the open. In my dizziness, I said "OKAY! OKAY! Just PLEASE PLEAAASE get the knife out from in front of my face." He shoved my head down. He kept shoving and yanking my head back up. He again asked if my boyfriend liked it like that. I gagged, many times. I kept gagging and then stopping and then I'd look up, wondering when I could stop. He yelled and kept pushing my head. I wondered if I'd ever be able to stop and I worried that I wasn't doing good enough for him. He then told me "okay, go back up front" and as I began to move, he must have realized I looked like I was about to vomit or I was in fear of not satisfying. He says in his deep evil voice "What's WRONG?" I felt I had to bow down, I felt I had to apologize "I am really sorry, I am sorry, my mouth, my mouth is just really small." I felt I didn't satisfy him, and I was suppose to apologize for not doing good enough. But I was able to climb up front. He then told me to drive to a different location. He forced me to withdraw money from my bank account and when I told him it only allowed me to withdraw 200 instead of 300, I felt I had to apologize again. Then he told me the next direction to drive, clenching onto the back of me with a knife still in hand. Now he talked to me calmly, like I was his friend. He asked my name and told me his name was Brian from Sioux Falls, or something like that. His name wasn't Brian. He asked where I was from and for some reason I actually answered correctly. He was suddenly calmed and talking and behaving like a normal person. Was this because he got his rage out of him already, or because he was trying to be friendly so I wouldn't tell on him. In a way I knew it was about over. I thought if he was going to kill me, it would have already have happened. He led me to a park across town and wanted out. As he tried to open the door before they were unlocked, he got frustrated and punched the window. He fled on foot and I drove as fast as I could across town. I knew I needed to find someone I was close to right away.
At the time, the person who I felt close to seemed to be someone who comforted me. He went with me to the police right away and to the hospital. Police told me to promise them I would see a counselor. They told me I would have a range of emotions I would have never imagined. A roller coaster of feelings - depression, anger at men, anger at the world, confusion, disbelief, lack of feelings at all, tiredness, anxiety. It was going to be a long road ahead. I was up all night and went to my brothers house that morning. I showered thinking that was what I was suppose to do. Thinking thats what people do after such a situation, to feel clean, to feel better. But I felt nothing. As a matter of fact I think I felt nothing for awhile. I went back "home" to my parents to stay for a few days before the wedding. I crawled in a ball and hid in the basement in front of the television. That evening my dad came to say goodnight and said "Allie, I sure wish I could erase today for you. But I can't. I just wanted to say, your mother and I, love you very much." This was the first time I'd seen my father with tears. He gave me a big hug and went to bed. He told police if they didn't find the guy, his first reaction was "I will kill the guy." As any father would have these feelings. The man was found with the help of tracking dogs, and swat team, attorney general, and many cops. I like to think that the dog Cooper smelt my apple pie and it is what led him to my attacker. I kept telling myself this and it brought meaning and joy. I collected a couple dozen business cards - police, states attorney, general, counselor, women's shelter. My father asked if I wanted a new vehicle. I couldn't imagine stepping foot back into my jeep. I wanted this jeep for years. I dreamed of having a jeep, I loved the vehicle, but not anymore. Many things were taken from me. I didn't realize what was ahead of me. I went to my brothers wedding though and felt love and happiness around. I actually had so much joy for my brother, nothing was on my mind that day. I drank and enjoyed the night. I drank too much. I sang old memorable songs with my brothers and had the time of my life, but then I slow danced with my father and I broke down. I ended up on the floor of the women's bathroom with my sister in law (not the one getting married) for hours bawling. Both of us with mascara all over our faces. I told her I was angry with god. I never found myself to be a religious person. But I was saying this. When my brother and sister in law who got hitched asked what was wrong they were told "Allie just had too much to drink." We kept the secret from them at this time.
What was to come was many sleepless nights. Having to sleep with a light on and multiple locks. Catching two hours of sleep and then meeting or having to talk with states attorney or other people the next day. Nightmares. I was prescribed sleeping pills and anti-depressants. But I refused to take them. I decided I wanted to feel. I wanted to deal with everything right then and work through everything. Instead of ignoring and years down the road I would realize I never dealt with such things. I promised myself I wasn't going to shove it into the back of my head. It made me angry seeing others my age having fun around me partying, drinking, and enjoying fun with friends. It made me angry because I couldn't enjoy these things. Life seemed unfair. I wondered why someone that was so cautious about sex, had to be abused. Why me? I analyzed everything and tried to make sense of the whole event. I replayed the event over and over in my head, every little detail. I blamed myself and felt ashamed for not fighting back. I went to a women's doctor once a week to check for STD's, AIDS, etc. I took Plan B. I was absent from work for about two weeks and as I returned I often called in not feeling well because of not sleeping. I was in fear of black males. I have never been racist, but I couldn't help this fear. This case wasn't going to come to a close soon either. For many months I talked with the attorney and the defendant continued and continued to try to bargain. I wouldn't settle and I was told that if he got such and such years, and he couldn't get parole until he was 70, that'd be like he was giving up his whole life. I thought he deserved that and he should have thought about that before he committed wrong. As I talked daily with my father, I told him "This is fucking bullshit" and then apologized for my swearing. I never swore to my dad. Nobody swears to my dad. He said "I fuckin understand." He understood. About one year later things were finally settled in court. Then a month later he made an appeal and we were back in court. Both appearances he gave apology speeches that made me cringe and full of disgust. They were fake and done for him, not real apologies. He had no idea what he had done or how he made anyone else feel. He was apologizing to help him get less years. For several months, if I had to write the current date for anything, for some reason I had one date in my head and kept accidentally writing it.
I went through the period of not sleeping, and then a period of a month or two of depression and anger, feeling like I could no longer focus on what once made me happy. I tried to work on projects, I tried to bake, but rarely could I finish projects. I was angry that this was taken away from me, along with my vehicle, my home, my sense of safety, my sense of seeing good in people. Being so depressed that you can't enjoy things you once loved is the worst thing ever. I struggled in my relationship. And realized who my true friends were, who would stick by my side through darkness, the WHOLE way. Who would put up with my middle of the night phone calls and panics, and mess of a life. As I struggled and fought in my relationship, eventually I realized it was because it was unhealthy to begin with. And it turned out someone who cared about me, could also physically hurt me. As I worked at different jobs and was bothered by power and control, being pushed around, I sometimes questioned if I imagined it. But the truth is, I did not. What I have realized is that I do not have to be treated in ways that I do not want to be treated. I have realized that it is important to stick up for myself and that it is okay to do so, or to at least walk away from such situations. One does not have to put up with being talked to poorly, being pushed, being put down. It is important to know that I deserve to be treated well. I have developed strength and have realized my worth. I also had an amazing counselor for awhile that helped me focus on myself and realize my self worth and importance. She was certified with EMDR therapy, which is often used for post traumatic stress cases dealing with abuse, or even war vets. Its a hypnosis type of therapy that works wonders and really helps one to gain back calmness, feeling of safety, comfort. It helps one deal with triggers and flashbacks. I owe a lot to this lady that really helped me come a long way. For months I was in fear of darkness, I couldn't even walk around a house at night and slept with lights on. Its amazing how much one can overcome and how much ahead you can get.
Today I write this with the feeling of content in this area of my life. It has taken two years now to go through much anger, re-evaluation, meaning, ups and downs, relationships, and friendships. I write feeling no anger. I feel I've allowed myself to feel every emotion and struggle. I've allowed myself to go through all of the darkness, so I could get back to the light. Some of these emotions were not fun, and some can still slip up occasionally. Not every day anymore, or every week or month, but sometimes it just slips up randomly... and that is okay. I realize now that It is not my duty to satisfy others all of the time. And it is okay to live for me. It is funny, this person gave me an apology letter that was a paragraph long, and had no meaning. But at the end it says "Good Luck". Often sexual abuse is committed by people who experience such things while growing up, or even physical abuse. Domestic Abuse often comes from someone who has experienced it in their childhood. It is like they have to come back and regain their feeling of power. And he was known to have such abuse done to him, so its kind of like he'd had things happen to him and his life was screwed up, so now that he did this to someone else he was going to come back and say "Now you've had someone screw up your life, now good luck to YOU in picking it all back up, it's impossible." But I am. I've picked myself up from a mess. And I still continue to do so, but I have definitely come a long way and I strive to live my life to the fullest and I push and push to follow my dreams. Nothing will stop me. He's made appeals since, but I don't bother caring or making it a part of my life. This person has nothing better to do and some people in this world, are just shitty. That's just the way it is. And holding on to anger and not forgiving humans is only hurting the one holding on to that anger.
I believe that everything happens for a reason. This event HAS brought me to believe in a higher power and belief that at times of uncertainty, we can have a little bit of faith, hope and trust. That no matter what, things eventually will be okay. That no matter what you can see the good out of that bad. So in a way this experience has been a gift : Bringing me closer to family, building a strong relationship with my father, being closer to my brother, knowing good friendships (which was hurtful to come to terms with who those people are and are not, but its important), Bringing more of a purpose to my life, appreciating life more, wanting to LIVE more, achieve more. I've also realized life lessons like You should not treat others bad because of your own pain. I've realized how I want to treat other people and how I want to be treated. I've asked myself "What do you live for?" Back on this April day, in my vehicle, I told myself I wanted to live. I knew I hadn't experience or accomplished everything I wanted to. So I ask what I live for and I know what I live for. I know what I am here to do and I push and push to achieve what I want. It's been a struggle, but nothing is easy. To have ones dream, you have to work for it. Life is a day to day struggle, many things will continue to get in my way or feelings of past events may creep up again unexpectedly, but that's life, and I will not give up or let difficulties or pain bring me down. Everything finally seems very distant now, but I occasionally am reminded. But usually at times that I notice others treating someone poorly or being in situations that I don't like. But I now realize these situations and don't allow myself to be a part of them. I realize too that many people are selfish and out to get what they want, not everyone is perfect, and sometimes we do have to ignore and just carry on. I found myself saying the other day that 24 was a really good year. But I didn't know why that came out of my mouth. Looking at that year, it was full of awful things. I thought about it though and the truth is..
Sometimes we need to be BROKEN, in order to be reborn. And to come back as a better you, with strength, growth, and direction.
So this is why it was the best year of my life. I realized who I was. And I end with a smile on my face.
As I move forward my goal is to mix life with baking in this blog. A mixture of the journey of life and baked goods/recipes that go along with such stories. Recipes and experimenting in the kitchen and how it touches and soothes the soul, and then giving a little story that fits along with the recipe. Explaining what a creation means to me or how a certain technique makes me feel. If that makes sense. Going along with day to day events, and tying recipes in, and creating meaning to each pastry. Not only does baking make me feel good, but I like the sense of comfort it brings when you share pastries with friends, family, or anyone. The joy, safety, relief it brings to ones day. I hope to help others dealing with struggle and bring a sense of comfort.
