by Annie Jocoby
“Who is Rochelle, and who is Mr. Green?”
At that, I told her about Rochelle's attack. “Rochelle is a woman from Ryan’s past. She kidnapped me from my office a little under a year ago. Then she tortured me and shot me up with black tar heroin, enough to kill me. I was in a coma for about two months because of it.”
Dr. Bryan nodded, scribbling notes in her pad.
Then it was time to talk about Mr. Green.
I saw Ryan looking at me with a very interested and worried expression.
I took a deep breath and said “Mr. Green was my first, uh, sexual experience. When I was 12. He was a very handsome and flirtatious gym teacher. He used to come up to me when I was standing on my head, and rub his hands up and down my leg. I had to admit that I had quite the crush.”
“Ok,” said Dr. Bryan. “So, he touched you inappropriately while you were in class.”
“Yeah. You know, we used to have to do headstands and that, and he would rub the back of my legs while I was standing on my head. And I used to fantasize about him. Everybody did.”
“You said that he was your first sexual experience. Tell me about that.”
“Excuse me,” I said. “I have to use your bathroom.” At that, I ran into her bathroom, and hurled.
Ryan was immediately by my side, rubbing my back. He helped me up, and gently ran some water, and got a cool rag to put on my face. “Sorry about that,” I said to Ryan. “Guess this story is making me really anxious.”
I didn't want to tell him that my puking was still a daily event, sometimes an hourly one.
I came back out. “Yes. Uh, he used to ask me to stay late after school. To help him put stuff away – jump ropes, balls, hula hoops, that sort of thing. I told my mother that I was at band practice, because I knew that she would never let me stay after school if I she knew that I was helping a man all alone,” I said, shaking my head ruefully. “Mothers always do know best after all.”
Dr. Bryan nodded. “Go on.”
“Well, he and I were in the closet one day, the apparatus closet, where they keep all the gym stuff. And he kissed me. The next day, in the same closet, he kissed me again, and he unzipped his pants and made me give him oral. Pretty soon, this was a daily event. I started to think that he loved me, and that we would end up getting married after I became an adult.”
Now Ryan was looking at me with his best poker face. I could tell that he was covering up what he was really feeling as I told this story.
I went on. “We had intercourse one day after school. He asked me to meet him in this clearing behind the school, so I did. Then he had sex with me behind the bushes.”
Ryan was trying to cover up shock and rage, but he was having a hard time of it. I saw him clench his fist, then pound it on the arm of the chair.
I continued. “After that, he never asked me to help him after school again. He never paid any attention to me at all. I was crushed – I thought that he was going to be my husband one day. I kept asking him if I could help out after school, but he always said no after that. He started having a different girl help him out after school. I was so jealous of her, I couldn't stand it.”
Dr. Bryan was noticing Ryan's reaction to my story. “Ryan, I see your face. Tell me what is going through your mind.”
He shook his head. “You don't want to know,” was all he said. His fists were still balled up tight, then one of his hands involuntarily went through his hair. Then he hung his head, both of his hands on his neck. “Finish your story, beautiful,” he said.
“Well, I think I had a miscarriage that year. I had just started my period, and it was always super-light. Kinda like it is now. But, one month, it was super, super heavy. And clotty. I've never had a period like that before or since.”
Ryan couldn’t hide his reaction to this particular revelation. He just looked stunned, and I saw, in the depths of those eyes, rage. Not at me, of course, but at Mr. Green. Ryan was still so protective of me, which is one of the reasons why I loved him so.
I took a deep breath and continued. “Uh, what happened with Andrew made me realize that what happened to me with that gym teacher was also a rape. I never thought of it that way. I always thought that it was some kind of love affair gone bad. Now, I realize that I was violated then. So, the Andrew thing is cumulative on top of that, and on top of what happened with Rochelle last year.” I looked at Ryan, who had a stress ball in his hand, and was squeezing the life out of it. “I've come to realize that I don't have Mr. Green, Andrew or Rochelle handy to take out my rage, so I took it out on my husband.”
Dr. Bryan looked at Ryan. “What would you like to say to this?” he asked.
Ryan took a few minutes to compose himself, then took my hand, and rubbed it thoughtfully. Looking me in the eye, he said “I want to apologize, from the deepest part of me, about Andrew. I feel totally responsible for what happened. But, at the same time, I can't apologize for wanting to make sure that you're safe. You're my world, beautiful. That's why I forced you to have a bodyguard. So, I have mixed emotions about it.”
I nodded. “I know. You couldn't have known what was going to happen with Andrew. I've come to terms with that. And I love you more than I ever thought I could love anybody. You're my world, too.”
That night, Ryan came and spent the night with me. We didn't make love. He knew that I wasn't ready for that. But he held me close, both of us under the covers, fully clothed in our pajamas, ready for bed. Then he said “we missed Christmas together.”
I didn't realize that Christmas had come and gone. How I managed to miss Christmas altogether, I didn’t know. Christmas was always a very special time for me – not because of the gifts, but, rather, because of the gaiety of the season. The childhood memories for me were always very strong around this season, whether it was my delight in discovering Rudolph, the anticipation of presents, or the memories of family gatherings. Yet, this year, I managed to avoid it altogether.
“Anyhow,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about it. I know how much you are in love with Polly, your horse. And, you know how I was thinking about buying some land and creating an animal sanctuary?”
I nodded eagerly, knowing where this was going.
“I’ve made arrangements to buy Polly when we get our sanctuary open. That way, you can see her whenever you want. I feel like that would be the best present for you that I could give.”
I felt tears coming to my eyes. How could I have ever hated this man? How could I have ever felt rage towards him? He was the one really great thing in my life, besides my family and friends. He had been the only man who had ever treated me with love and kindness, instead of anger and disrespect.
He smiled when he saw my tears. He knew me so well by then, so he knew when my tears were happy or sad, and he knew that these were very, very happy tears. I smiled and nodded mutely at him. “I love you,” I said.
“I know that this is late, but Merry Christmas, beautiful.”
We lay in the bed, fully clothed, and I put my head on his chest. This was more intimacy than I had been able to manage with him since the rape, and, although I was sorry that we couldn’t do more, lying there with him was as comforting as anything that I could’ve possibly imagined.
Chapter Thirty
I stayed at the resort, I mean facility, for another month after my breakthrough with Dr. Bryan and Polly. I was much more open with Dr. Knight, so I was able to tell her more about my feelings about what happened to me. She was able to understand that I not only had issues with Rochelle and Andrew, but that I also had severe issues from my past that resulted in my overall feeling of low self-esteem. So, in addition to the talk therapy, she also put me through a regimen of cognitive behavioral therapy, aimed at eliminating negative self-talk. The goal was to change my thought process through changing my behavior.
The CBT process involved helping me to reconceptualize negative situations, because I automatically tended to think the worst of any given situation. Skills acquisition was
the next phase, and this was where I was taught to catch my negative thoughts and replace them with positive ones. I was required to keep a journal and jot down any negative thoughts that I had throughout the day, then, the next day, I was taught about how to replace these specific negative thoughts with specific positive ones.
I was also given a course of treatment called eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. This was for my specific traumatic issues regarding Rochelle, Mr. Green, and Andrew. In this treatment, I was asked to recall what happened to me while the psychiatrist asked me to focus on their hand gestures. I followed these hand gestures with my eyes. I was also asked for positive thoughts, and the therapist did the same thing with the gestures. The goal, as was explained, was for my brain to process the memories of what happened to me differently. The treatment was somewhat controversial, as it had evidence that showed that it worked, and also evidence that showed that it didn’t work, but I was willing to try anything to overcome my traumatic incidents.
I also continued my therapy with Polly and my group therapy for four hours a day. Acupuncture treatments were daily, as were massages. The acupuncture was geared specifically for my drug addiction. I didn’t particularly feel that I needed drug addiction treatment, as I really didn’t feel like I was addicted. I had severe trauma, two severe traumas within a period of nine months, so I went ape-shit. That was really all there was to it, so I felt that the psychotherapy was effective. I felt that the therapy aimed at my drug addiction to be superfluous.
Nevertheless, I found both the acupuncture and the massage therapy to be incredibly relaxing, so I looked forward to these sessions.
Ryan and I continued with our couple’s therapy, as well. We were becoming closer through the therapy, as I was able to express my feelings about my life being turned upside down after meeting him, and I was helped with processing these emotions and feelings.
By the end of the two months, I was feeling myself again. Better than myself. I had the tools to help myself whenever negative thoughts crept into my head, and I felt that I had a handle on all that had happened to me with Rochelle, Andrew and Mr. Green. Ryan and I were closer than we had ever been. We still were not making love, of course. I still wasn’t ready for that, but I hoped that I would be, with time.
I also hoped that I would stop being so afraid of strange men.
Ryan, for his part, got me set up with a psychotherapist, Dr. Brammell, in Kansas City, so that I could continue regular therapy.
The only issue that we were having was the matter of pressing charges against Andrew. Ryan was adamant that I needed to call the police and tell them what happened. I was just as adamant that this would never happen.
“Not doing it, Ryan.”
“Listen, beautiful, I know that you’re scared – “
“Scared is not the word. He threatened to kill me, and I believe that he will. Or, worse yet, maybe he’ll come after you. If anything happens to you, I might as well be killed as well. I couldn’t survive it.”
“But, beautiful, he might do it to others.”
“I know that, and, trust me, that weighs heavily on my mind. But I just can’t do it. I’m sorry, it may seem selfish to you, but I have to keep you safe. And, I admit, I’m thinking of my own safety as well. No, no, no. I won’t do it. Please don’t make me.”
Ryan didn’t push.
Aside from that issue, though, Ryan and I were doing better than we ever had. I had high hopes that the worst was behind us. I lived through trauma and drug addiction. He lived through seeing his father, and making amends with him.
But the worst was not past us. Not by a long shot.
And the next blow would be, by far, the most devastating of all.
Chapter Thirty-One
On the plane on the way home, Ryan informed me that he had a special surprise waiting for me.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It wouldn't be a surprise, now, would it, if I told you what it was.”
Upon landing, and driving in the city, I soon found out what it was.
Ryan had bought a brand new house.
This was an even more beautiful house than the Tudor mansion we had before. This house was huge, in a classic Greco-Roman style. Ionic columns were on the enormous front porch, with a beautiful terrace that jutted out from the side, with sculpted balustrades bounding it, and arches opening onto the terrace. The house was a stucco grey, with enormous arched windows, and the roof was a Spanish tile.
I knew why he bought that house, and I never loved him more than I loved him right at that moment. Once again, he understood my needs perfectly, without my saying a word.
“You like,?” he asked.
“Of course!”
“I have another surprise.”
When we walked in, I saw what the surprise was. The house was empty, aside from our bedroom, which had our bed in it.
I looked at him questioningly.
“We're going to decorate this house together. The last house didn't have you in it at all. Sarah was absolutely right. This gives us a chance to start completely fresh, and the house will be truly ours at last.”
At that, I jumped into his arms. He kissed me passionately. But I pulled away. I still wasn't ready to be touched like that. I wondered if I ever would be. Still, this was a wonderful surprise, and I was feeling like I was getting back to my old self.
So, for the next few weeks, we were busy hiring interior decorators. I had more of a jazzy, modern sensibility. Ryan’s taste was more elegant and masculine. We had plenty of room in the new house, so we talked about making the den to reflect my taste, and the living room to reflect his taste, and the bedrooms to have a marriage of tastes. The home theater was also going to have a marriage of tastes. The wine cellar would reflect him, while the sun porch would reflect me. We also worked together to build our vegetable and flower gardens, looking at different flowers – Roses, Geraniums, African Daisies, Gerber Daisies, and Peonies. In the vegetable garden, we chose thyme, rosemary, basil, mint and oregano for the herbs, and, for the vegetables, we planted kale, spinach, tomatoes, cucumbers and bell peppers.
For the den, which had enormous windows that streamed natural light, I chose a multi-colored sofa with one cushion light green, another cushion dark blue, and the third cushion stripes of various colors. The lamps in the room would be Chinese lanterns of various colors. The walls would be painted in accents of bright yellow on every other wall. The big screen television would find a home in this room as well. And, since the sofa would be so colorful, as would be the walls, we chose to leave the floor hardwood with white rugs. The de Kooning would be the centerpiece of this room, as it was brashly colored in yellow, red and blue hues. We would also decorate the walls with some of Ryan’s original paintings, some of which were abstract, others that favored the surrealist movement. Salvador Dali was evidently an influence on Ryan’s work in this regard. There was also some cubist work that was experimental for him, and these were some of my favorites. At any rate, there were three or four paintings that I thought would look perfect with the rest of the décor, so I selected them, and we consulted the decorators for the best way to show them off.
After giving our vision for the den to the interior decorator, we decided to go with a more traditional look for the living room. Dark leather couches were selected, accented with sculptures that Ryan picked up in South Africa when he got my engagement ring. The throw pillows would add a pop of color to the couches, and the rug that we selected for the cherry wood floors was a piled white. Above the enormous fireplace would hang his Thomas Hart Benton mural that I marveled at the first day I saw his old house.
I had to admit that I was having the absolute time of my life with the interior decorator. It was always my dream to be able to have a house that was decorated the way that I wanted it, and I loved that I had an entire room that would reflect my vision. Plus, I had input on the living room, because Ryan was interested in how I could put some of my touches on “his” r
oom as well. The sun porch would also reflect me, and I went about looking for the right wicker furniture with cushions I loved, the best plants and flowers that would thrive in the sun porch environment, along with a mosaic tiled table that I had to have. Never in my life had I had the opportunity to decorate a home where money was no object.
Contentment was not the word for how I was feeling. Ryan was on another extended leave of absence from his job, and I selfishly was overjoyed about this. And he brought up, several times, the idea of opening an animal sanctuary with me. That would be our next project, and Ryan even hinted that he might leave his job to manage the sanctuary with me full-time.
I was feeling better about myself than I had in a long time. The CBT was really helping me banish the negative thoughts, which also helped me feel much more in control of my life. My self-esteem was higher, too.
At this point, I thought that nothing could touch us. After all that we went through, how could anything else go wrong? Fate wasn’t that cruel.
How wrong that turned out to be.
Chapter Thirty-Two
So much had happened to me in the past few months that I never noticed that I failed to get my period. I should’ve been paying more attention to this, considering how nauseated I was for a long time, when I was supposed to be over the drugs. In the back of my mind, I thought that maybe I was sick. Maybe something serious.
That would be a good way for fate to come in and snatch our happiness away.
So, one morning, with shaking hands, feeling completely nauseated, I finally took a pregnancy test.
It was positive!
At first, I was over the moon, excited to tell Ryan the news.
Then a dark cloud immediately rolled in.
What if it wasn't his?
The thought of possibly carrying Andrew's baby made me want to hurl some more.