"I arrived in Australia a broken women and I returned home hating men in
general, my husband in particular, myself, my life and my God."

I was raped in my bed at 4.03 am one hot summer night by a serial rapist in
July 1987 at Ocean View, Norfolk, Virginia. I will not go into all the gory
details as I think this only promotes fear in others. My husband was at sea
and my 5-year-old son was at a Sunday School Camp. My assailant was not
caught until 1988 and as I had already fled America (in fear) I was not
there to find out all the details of who, when, why etc?

My husband was in the navy and out at sea on an aircraft carrier and they
allowed him home on emergency leave but he became very angry and started to
drink and roam the local bars looking for my assailant. Neither the police
nor my husband could offer me much help at the time. They thought the rapist
was ex-navy or even ex-police as he was very good at what he did and raped
Navy wives while hubbies were at sea. I was told to buy a gun and shoot him
if he came back (which he had threatened to do) and my husband went so far
as to get me a little pistol that would fit in my handbag.

Needless to say I still did not feel safe and the rapist (who had also
stollen my handbag) rang us on the telephone and growled at me like some
demon possessed creature. I knew it was him because he had the same horrific
gutteral growl the night he attacked me. So I packed my bags and left the
country by August as I was not going to let him get me again. Thankfully,
I still had my passport and after arranging for my sister in law in
Australia to lend me over $3000 for airfares my son and I up and left. I
arrived in Australia a broken women and I returned home hating men in
general, my husband in particular, myself, my life and my God. I stayed
with my sister-in-laws parents for the first few months as I could not live
on my own and later I moved into a flat well off ground level (for safety
reasons) and tried to get on with my life.

I cried much, prayed in the form of letters to God, had flashbacks, slept
with a light on, jumped at every sound in the night and generally kept
pretty well isolated the first 12 months. I was too ashamed to go to church
as did not want people to know what had happened to me. I did not want to
cry in public over it nor have to tell my story due to feelings of shame.
My husband had blamed me for the incident...saying I must have done
something or attracted him somehow. I never did get closure on the event
and then in 1990 I was diagnosed with trauma related bipolar disorder and
put on heavy doses of medication. Drugged out of my brain to be precise due
to at least 2 manic breakdowns that I can remember. I gradually weaned
myself off medication and have been drug free for a few years but still
have the high/low symtoms although not as severe.

I have still not felt real comfortable sharing my thought or feelings with
any of the psychiatrists as they are male and I have also developed a
compulsive eating disorder which I am still dealing with. I am not
emotionally whole and have not yet gotten over the loss of my marriage and
the dreams I once had of being a happy family. I feel like I have been
cheated and yet at the same time in my head. I know life is not meant to
be easy and we all suffer trials of sort. My husband and I have not had
much contact since then only...a couple of phone calls and a letter. He has
gone on and remarried after he chose todivorce me on the grounds of
desertion. I am still on my own and hoping that one day there may be
someone special for me. My son is now 23 and barely remembers our time in
America.

Two years ago I got a computer and took a virtual holiday to Norfolk....I
did some checking with the police and the papers and the navy sexual assault
and I was able to find out the name of my assailant and when he was caught
and where he was jailed. I wanted, (felt driven) and needed to bring some
sort of closure on the past. After finding out the information I needed I
made contact with him via the chaplain of the jail by writing a letter to
say that I was one of his many victims and that I needed to confront him
about his crimes as I did not have my day in court. I did not want revenge
but just to get a few things off my chest and to let him know that his crime
had caused alot of heartache and pain and that I hoped one day he would come
to realize how evil his crimes were. I have long since gotten over the
hate, anger and unforgiveness toward him and if anything felt that he was
more of a victim than me. I just wanted to let him know that even though I
did not understand what led him to commit such horrible crimes I did not
hate him and I hoped that he would find the true peace and forgiveness
that only God can give. As a Christian I felt led to send him a bible and
to atleast try and share the love and forgiveness of God. It was not a hard
thing to do and it was something I wanted to as it would help bring closure.
It was my way of working out some of the negative emotions and getting my
own sweet revenge on the enemy who tried to ruin my life.

It will be 2 years in November since I first made contact with the serial
rapist (who is now serving 236 yrs for his crimes) and it surprises me that
quite a few letters have passed between us. He suffers from depression,
loneliness and fear locked up in jail and I suffer the same in a jail of my
own making. I still sleep with lights on, still cry from time to time over
the painful past, and lost dreams and still battle with the compulsive
eating. It is not all dark as there are rays of hope for a better future so
I keep plodding on. I have perhaps stuffed alot of feelings instead of
dealing with them and let my life become real busy so I do not have much
time for thinking and crying about lost dreams or lost marriages, or lost
babies, or lost hopes. I can put a smiley face and be a social butterfly
and I do not get too close to people.

I have often thought of finding a rape support group and have only recently
found this book while surfing the net. Perhaps finding it is one of those
God-coincidences as even though I have not read it I am sure it will help
me. Well that's all I can TELL about my story...it is going to be an
ongoing one as my rapist and I are still in contact and he is getting
spiritual counsel from the chaplain in jail and I hear getting closer to
God. Now that I know his name and have seen a photo he is not so much the
monster of my nightmares.I can only hope God will one day free him from the
demons that drove him to rape and violate women and that I too will come to
know real freedom from depression and mental illness, freedom from fear of
being raped again and freedom from compulsive eating. Life goes on and
while there is life there is hope for us all.

Janet in Australia (oz)

 

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