Missed red flags

 The summer after my sophomore year in college, I worked for the local park district.  The first day on the job, we had training at a chapel that the park district owned.  I knew pretty much no one, but would be working for athletic camp.  The employee that had hired me introduced me to the other counselors that I would be working with.  One of those employees was Jon.  At this point, I was still extremely broken.  I had dated some my sophomore year, but had broken up with a boy towards the end of the school year because it just wasn't working.  I had never sought the counseling needed to repair my trauma, but at 19 I didn't recognize it.

After talking for a few days during training and in the parking lot after training, Jon tried to give me his number.  This was the first missed red flag.  He was so insecure that he didn't want the responsibility of making the first phone call, even though we had been talking for days!  I gave him mine, and told him to give me a call.  At some point he called and we set up a first actual date.  We went out to dinner, each paying for our own meal.  Second missed red flag, but since I was mostly figuring it was a casual date, I didn't think much of it.  That first date lasted 6 hours, playing pool afterwards followed by a movie at my house.  Things ramped up the rest of that summer, spending tons of time together and on the phone.  As with most of my relationships, I fell fast and hard.  

I was still in my mindset of "why wait till marriage, I'm already not a virgin."  So we had sex early, less than a month after meeting.  I actually had a few days where I thought I might be pregnant, but luckily I wasn't.  I certainly would not have been ready for that.  We finished the summer together and prepared to go back to our respective colleges.  Jon came with me for part of soccer preseason, since he didn't have anything else going on.  He lied to his parents and told them he was sleeping at a friend's who was there for football.  We were really still kids.  And I had no idea of the issues he was harboring inside of himself.

The biggest red flag of all that I missed that first year was Jon's depression.  About halfway through the year, he started seeing a counselor.  But there was never any actual, specific triggering event.  He simply couldn't manage every day life as a college student.  He declined medication and went through counseling for several months.  I'm not sure if he ever truly got through whatever he deemed the underlying problems causing his depression.  Looking back, I'm nearly positive it was a chemical imbalance that he never dealt with.  This was a major red flag that I completely missed at that time and led to heartache for multiple people years down the road.  It's important to be able to work through your problems by speaking to those around you, and despite a background in social work, it is clear that Jon never learned this skill.

Turning Point Depression

The year 2003 turned out to be a big one for me.  I never could have imagined the amount of change that one year could produce, from agony to joy.  Towards the end of my junior year I knew I had a big decision to make.  My parents were pushing me to get a degree in engineering by signing up for Augustana's 3-2 program with U of I or another school.  In this program, I would leave Augustana to attend the other school, ending up with degrees from both schools - one in physics, the other in engineering.  But I had always felt a pull towards teaching.  I applied for an internship for the summer at the University of Minnesota to see what technical engineering would be like.  Despite having only a background in physics, I was accepted and my parents drove me up at the beginning of June.  The internship was meant to be 8 weeks and I would get paid $4000, plus live on campus for free.  It seemed like an awesome opportunity.  I would be home just in time for my sister's wedding even.

Everything seemed to be okay for the first week or so.  I was making some new friends, following the summer workout plan, had joined a summer soccer league, and was mostly enjoying the new work.  But then the anxiety mounted.  I had trouble sleeping as the nightmares returned.  I hadn't shared with anyone there what had happened to me and I didn't feel comfortable talking to anyone.  Family came out to visit, and spending time with them helped a little.  Jon and I had met the previous summer and were in a strong relationship at that point.  So he came and visited over the 4th of July weekend.  I agreed to give it one more week, but he saw that I was emotionally crumbling.

I spoke with those in charge of the program about my options.  I shared with them the reason behind my difficulties and they tried to work with me.  They offered to move me into a bedroom at someone's house to see if that would help.  But I knew that what I needed was to be surrounded by my loved ones and I needed to talk to a therapist.  Quitting that internship was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made.  And part of me honestly still questions if I did the right thing.

The weekend after July 4th, my parents came out and brought me home.  That next week I made an appointment to see a therapist that was recommended by a family member.  She was a social worker and clearly trained differently than the psychiatrist I had seen previously.  Jon drove me and sat in the car so that I would have him afterwards.  Over the course of several sessions we mapped out the relationships in my family and I became comfortable.  I was then able to share with her the sadness, shame, and frustration that originated from the date rape.  Deciding to see that therapist and the way she helped me re-frame everything was a major turning point for me and allowed me to take back my life.

The biggest difference from the psychiatrist I had previously seen was that I was ready to work through everything.  I decided I was ready to put in the work and let go of the emotions I was hiding.  And I am so glad that I made that decision.  Through the help of the therapist, my family, and Jon I was able to turn the corner in my life and see that I was not responsible for what had happened.  I know I will forever carry this scar and in a few years will have to share the experience with both kids in discussing the dangers that lie ahead.  But because I took the time to sort through everything, it will be okay.  I wouldn't wish the experience on anyone, but I do believe I am stronger for working through the aftermath.  I wish I would have done so right away instead of waiting 3 years.

Deep Dark Depression

I made it through my freshman year of college, not getting real close to anyone and trying to figure out what was going on inside of me.  I played soccer but didn't seem to quite fit in with the team.  I joined Intervarsity but with the struggle inside I never really felt connected.  I met a few boys and found one I ended up dating for a bit at the end of year.

As the school year ended and I was preparing to go home, I sank deeper and deeper into a dark depression.  With no soccer to cling to and my boyfriend pledging a fraternity so with little free time, I had a very rough spring.  My grades dropped and there were times I thought I wouldn't make it. At one point I sat in my room with a bottle of pills and considered taking them all.  I don't remember what they were.  Another point I looked at my razor in the shower and thought how easy it would be to just end the pain.  But every time I instantly thought about my niece and nephew, who were just toddlers.  I tried to imagine how anyone would explain to them what happened to me.  And from there I thought about the pain I would be causing others.  And with that, I just stuffed everything deeper.

I came home from school and awaited my final term grades.  I knew I was close to keeping my scholarship, but needed to maintain a 3.25 to do so.  A few days after coming home, my boyfriend and I broke up.  Then I found out my grades, a 3.21 for the year, just shy of what I needed.  I thought I would lose all of my scholarship and wasn't sure how I was going to pay for school.  The pain just cut deeper and deeper.  On the phone with my then ex-boyfriend (I don't know why I was talking to him) I told him I just wanted to kill myself.  He hung up on me and I decided to go for a run to work through everything.  Apparently, he hung up to call the police.  Shortly thereafter, a police officer rang the doorbell.  I considered not answering since nobody else was home.  But I realized they probably wouldn't go away.

It was that day I started to get some of the help I needed.  Once I let the police officers in, they insisted I get my parents to come home.  I don't remember who called them, but they did come home.  Then, I informed the police of everything that had happened.  And for the first time, I told my parents.  My mom's reaction was the hardest, as she seemed to take it personally.  Once my parents were home and I convinced the police officers I would be okay, they left.  My parents pulled up psychiatrist contacts and we made an appointment.  I was reluctant to go, but wasn't given much of a choice.

At that point, I wasn't really ready for help.  I met with the psychiatrist, but his solution was medication.  I wasn't interested in that.  I was really hurting inside and felt I had a good reason for it.  I didn't feel comfortable with this psychiatrist and convinced my parents I was okay, so I never went back.  I stuffed all the hurt back inside and focused on the little girls I was babysitting and getting in shape for soccer that summer.  I kept trying to figure out how to let the pain escape and did find some relief with exercising.  I think that is how I made it through the summer of 2001.  I ended the summer with our family trip to Maui, completing my summer soccer workouts on the sand in the sun.  I was getting ready to head into a better year and I knew I could focus on soccer and school that fall.  I had no idea what God had in store for me as he continued to try and draw me closer.