Monthly Archives: June 2012


This is a really delicate and extremely difficult subject to talk about, even after all these years. So I’ve decided to talk about it early in my blog so I don’t have to address it again.

It’s important for me to talk about this. It influences the way I am today and is what led me to who I am.

The things I had been through for someone 20 years old was enough for anyone that age to deal with, and now this was just the straw that broke the camels back.

The first thing I would like to say is that I never reported my rape to authorities. One of the reasons was that I was used to being treated as a sex object, and had lived with secrets for years. I was told from a very young age that if I told anyone what had been done to me, no one would believe me and I would get into trouble for lying.

The following is what happened the next few days after the rape.

I tried to pretend it never happened. But it did, and I couldn’t just get on with things, like I had in the past. I cried and cried each night till I fell asleep. No matter how many times I showered I still felt dirty.

My fiancé was away working at the time, as we had 6 weeks to go until our wedding day, and he was trying to get as much money together to pay for the wedding. Every day that went by got more and more difficult for me to handle. I wanted to tell my fiancé so badly, but I was terrified he would blame me or leave me.

One day I decided to tell one of my cousins, as I was staying the night at her house when it happened. She told me that this particular person had been known to like blonde, blue-eyed girls, and that I was not the first person she had heard of to apparently have this done to them. He would just boast about them all wanting and willing to have sex with him. So none of the girls did anything about it. Even though I said I was staying at my cousin’s house that night, it wasn’t where he raped me.

We had all been drinking at his hotel that night. When it closed we went back to my cousin’s and continued drinking with a group of people. Someone said we had run out of alcohol, so this person said he would go back to his hotel and get some more. Another cousin of mine said she would go and that’s when he kept on for me to go and that it wouldn’t take us very long. So not knowing what I was in for, or knowing him until that night, I left with them. I was with my cousin and had no reason to think anything about it other than going to get more alcohol. The amount I had drunk that night I shouldn’t have been going with anyone to get more alcohol. But unfortunately in those days I never knew when to stop. Alcohol became my friend, the more I drank the less pain I would feel.

For my own sanity I can’t really write down everything that  happened in that next 2 hours. That’s right, we were gone that long that I didn’t even realise until we came back and everyone was in bed. To this day I believe wholeheartedly that the drink we had when we first arrived back at his hotel was spiked, but I will never know for sure. My head was spinning and everything was a bit of a blur, no idea how long after but before I could even react He was on top of me. The music was really loud as he had put it on when we first got to the hotel, so my cousin couldn’t hear me calling out. She was also quite heavily intoxicated and later I found out she was dancing on the dance floor to the music he had put on. He asked me if I was screaming because I liked it or was he too big for me.

That month I missed my period. I knew my fiancé was away so I couldn’t be pregnant to him. Oh god no please don’t let me pregnant to this man. But I was, I wanted to tear my stomach open and rip the baby out. I couldn’t get an abortion quick enough. That in itself was hard to deal with. The guilt I felt was horrific.

The trauma was too much to bear that in the end I told my fiancé. He lost it and wanted to go kill this person. I pleaded with him to let it go and that I wasn’t going to prosecute as I blamed myself for being so drunk and going back with him. (My marriage only lasted 1 year, not because of my husband but because I could never find peace within myself.)

Those words he said to me as he was raping me never left my head. I blamed myself for years, I know I should never have gone back with him. But you can’t take things back. I made a bad choice and one I have to live with.

But after many years, and some therapy, I am no longer prepared to be a victim. He wouldn’t even remember who I was or care what he did to me. He more than likely doesn’t have any sleepless nights and he has probably told himself that I, and all the girls my cousin mentioned, wanted him.

I have decided that he cannot be allowed to take my power away. I have forgiven myself and want anyone that has read this and has been through this themselves to know that I feel your pain, your sadness, your anger. But, no matter what the circumstances, rape is rape. You didn’t ask for it. Life will get better and you will find something that will make you happy again. It’s true the saying, you can forgive but never forget.


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Filed under Uncategorized

Money Doesn’t Buy Happiness

I tried to buy my happiness over the years.  I have a lovely home and everything I desired. Lavish Christmas parties, the ability to satisfy every whim. I must have owned every new kind of exercise machine that has been on television over the years.

But all of these material things really do mean nothing. Trips overseas sounded like a great way to escape the monotony of everyday life, but you are still you wherever you go. Then you come home and everything is the same. Same aching sadness, same emptiness.


Filed under My experiences


I could hear a motorbike sound and vaguely remember someone talking to me and pricking my finger, I fell again;back in to a deep sleep.
Someone was calling my name, I  thought I saw an angel but when I finally opened my eyes right up, I realised it was my sister. I told her someone had died, she said nobody had died, Paula, you took an overdose and you’re in the hospital.

I couldn’t believe it, god no! I’m not suppose to be alive.
I cried so much and didn’t stop crying for days, what do I do now, how can I face everyone.
God what have I done, this can’t be happening, this isn’t what I planned.

I’ve never felt so alone and terrified in my life, I pleaded with my husband to take me home; I knew if they had read my suicide note, I wouldn’t be able to leave.
He told me I needed help and to be patient, that I was in the right place and would be getting all the help I needed to get better again. I even texted my sister and mother pleading to get me out of there, but they couldn’t.

This is not what I wanted; someone to get inside my head and work out why I tried to commit suicide. I was angry that my husband had called an ambulance and even angrier at myself for not getting it right.
So after lots more crying and having to open up to the hospital  psychiatrist, the descision to admit me to physiciatric care was made, (or should I say forced upon me) either I admitted myself to Perth Clinic ( A private institute for people with psychological disorders ) or I would be taken to Greylands (public system).

Everything I had ever heard about Greylands made me scared to go there, so reluctantly; I was going to Perth Clinic.
The crying I did in the first few days was enough to last a lifetime, at the end of the day it wouldn’t have mattered where I went; Perth Clinic or Greylands, they both would have wanted me to tell the truth of what brought me to want to commit suicide.

For privacy reasons I won’t mention the name of my shrink, all I can say is they saved my life.
After telling him my story and what led me to where I was, it was decided that I would have to have an ECT. I had refused to eat for a few days, as I was punishing myself for living.
No matter how hard I tried to stop crying I couldn’t, so the  best thing to help stop the crying and help the mending process, was to start with a series of ECT’s, along with some anti-depreassants.
Not too long after my first ECT the crying had calmed a little, but the good thing was that I could drink something. I became addicted to Milo, how strange is that!
If it wasn’t for Milo I would have been put on a drip (Go Milo) 🙂
I proceeded to live and nourish myself on Milo for the next month.

The sadness I had endured for years was all about to be revealed, I was there for 1 month, had 15 ECT’S  and even more severe headaches from them.
But at the end of the day they saved me, and I know that to be the truth.

I had lots of therapy and oddly did lots of colouring in, actually it was really therapeutic.
My husband bought me flowers and the way I was feeling at the time I had no interest in them, but a few days later; I ws in bed crying again. When I looked up and saw the flowers on top of the T.V, I began to feel different about them; all of a sudden I liked the colour, the box they were in and the shapes. From that moment on, I was totally obsessed with flowers and wanting different colours! Pink was the main colour actually, I wanted anything that was pink, pink textas, pencils etc.

I have found solace in the colour pink, to this day; it calms me and brings me a happiness like no-other.
I now appreciate and enjoy the company of flowers.


Filed under My treatments


“You don’t control depression, depression controls you”
These words echoed through my head, ringing like the bells of London; I couldn’t escape them, I could not escape this reality. I hate the shot, but wanting to be truthful.

In the Hospital

This is what happens to a person that can’t admit they need help, I had been struggling internally for years, I was screaming on the inside for someone to see the real me; the sad, lost and confused me.
The little girl inside was crying non-stop, screaming for help, I would be in a room full of people; yet I felt completely alone.

I tried buying things that i thought would make me happy and doing things that i thought would make me happy, but nothing worked, it was all a temporary fix. What do you do when you’ve lost the will to live?

Trying to get by day to day and nobody know whats really going on in your head ,was difficult.
I started drinking heavily and uped my sleeping pills (Temazepam).
Sleep was my only escape!

I didn’t look like this; I smiled, I laughed and I joked.
I had learned from the age of 10 yrs old to hide my true feelings, then one day, 2 years ago in August, my son showed me a painting his friend had created, instantly I felt like someone had ripped my heart out and stripped through all the layers, and saw the real me.
I had been exposed!

When I was alone, I broke down crying; I wanted and needed to buy that painting, I became obsessed with it – it was me, and I was it, someone else could actually see  little Paula crying inside.
I was finally free.  
A great pressure had been lifted of me, even though I felt incredible sadness, I also felt incredible relief and I could breath again.

The artist had captured me, even though it wasn’t painted of me it didn’t matter, it was all the same.
I was already breaking, but somehow kept it all hidden until that painting.

My son was in the U.K,  and I decided that now was the time to end my suffering.
I  went onto My and put a family tree together for future generations, went to my doctor and increased the amount of sleeping pills I needed.
Sadly, it’s not hard to do once you’ve built up a trusting relationship with your doctor, a relationship built around lies.

I spent excessive amounts of time with my eldest son and his family.
I saw my family at a nephew’s birthday party, and it was there that I decided that was going to be my last goodbye.
I hugged them all, laughed, joked and listened intently to everything they had to say. I knew it would be the last time I would hear them all laugh and joke with me and I couldn’t get enough of them.
I wondered if anyone saw anything different about me that day, but nobody had said anything.

Okay its time, I drank 1/2 bottle of Bourbon, and took 75 Temazepam tablets.
My husband went to sleep unsuspecting, so I got up, wrote a suicide note to them all asking them to forgive me and letting them know how much I loved them and the pain I had endured.
I cried as I wrote the words and let them know that nobody could have prevented this.
My beautiful boys, what have I done, what am I about to do to your world.

I was lost, completely alone and nothing would have stopped this from happening.
If it wasn’t today it would just be another, I got into bed and closed me eyes.


Filed under My experiences

A hesitant start

What is depression? How do you know if anxiety has you in its grasp or if you are just unhappy for a moment? When does loneliness become a condition?

This is my story. My journey, and my world. It’s not intended as a “how-to” directory, and if you feel you need help – please go straight to , or (Lifeline is a 24hr confidential crisis response site, where you can confidently talk to someone one on one.) and get professional help, as I have and still do.

Feel free to comment, criticise or suggest changes or thoughts. Please don’t pick on my spelling or grammar. Life’s way too short for such crap, and I don’t really profess to be some kind of professor of English. But I have lived, and if you’ve lived enough to wonder just why you still do – then i’d love you to share my journey. Who knows where we’ll go?

If i’m honest then that’s just part of my coming to grips with a world I had decided to leave. i’ve now decided to stay, so a part of that change in paradigm is a decision to walk a very, very straight line. Feel free to click away to another site. It’s a rather personal journey that I am taking. This may be a public way of making a private journey but i’m thinking that just maybe some other people out there may have been through similar mists of darkness, and may be trying to find their own pathway. If mine helps yours then that’s great. If not, it’s a big world-wide-web, so feel free to visit other, more inspiring and light-hearted sites. I wish you well.

Depression - In hospital and getting better

Depression: In my darker days – but getting better.




Filed under My experiences