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The long trial over, life as I new it continued. Now, Jason was in prison, and I could breathe easier. Melanie, Jenn and I went out to a coffee shop to celebrate. I was not up for any fancy dinner, yet. AS usual, they had their coffee, while I had my tea. Oh, I'd tried to drink that bitter brew, but even with cream and sugar, it was horrible. I prefer a cup of hot tea with a touch of sugar, just enough to cut the edge off of the taste.

Slowly, as it seemed, my days became routine, there was the same gossip in the PT room, with the same therapists. In my head, I was not getting back into my routine. Sure, one might say that ‘well she is healing’. The truth is told, yes, my body may be healing, but my emotions and my psyche’ were severely damaged. I wished that I could be nightmare free. But, unfortunately, this was not to be. I gave the nurses at the rehabilitation center a heart attack on more than one occasion.

My nightmares would start out the same with Jason and me causally talking, and then they would erupt into his assault on me. I would wake up screaming. Eventually, I hoped that they would end. I had to pin some kind of hope in this. Shit! I had survived that asshole's brutal assault and rape on me. It must get back to normal, someday! But when would it? In the following month, I was visited by Angela and on a few occasions, by Melanie, too. She had moved from the residence under me. I knew I would have to find a new place. That was one of my priorities, afterwards.

The aftermath of all this placed me in the delicate and fragile column. I was snippy and sarcastic; I was quite a challenge to the therapists. I had a few visits by Sheila as well and we talked a significant amount. I also had physicians from the mental health society and from the woman’s center, to council me on dealing with this traumatic event. 38 days later, I was well enough to be released and start fresh as they say.

I had to find a temporary place to live, so I went to the YWCA and was given a room. I had to find a job, which was next on my priority list. My former job was lost to me since I was still in therapy, and my former boss had to replace me, reluctantly. I was useless at stocking shelves. I did not blame him for what he had to do, I blame Jason, instead.

Social assistance was the present order for the day. I maintained counseling and individual sessions with both Sheila and Pat at the Women’s center. My many trips to the psychologists were long and very exhausting. With Sheila and Pat they were good sessions. Each was 2 hours and they were of some help. In December, I joined a support group and continued with them for 7 months. I had found a job working in a convenience store working night shift (4 pm till 12 Am). The pay was good, not great. However, it put some food on my plate. I still had many scars and walked with crutches for several months after my release

Life was very complicated as I became despondent and depressed on many occasions, I eventually gave up and quit my job at the store. I was diagnosed with PTSD and I still suffer with it today. Many years after the fact, I eventually found a steady job and pay check. I ended up with a major retail chain stocking shelves from 11 pm to 8 am. I had finally, by this time, had recovered enough that I could walk again.

I really enjoy doing that job as I worked mainly by myself. The personnel manager and the night time supervisor were well aware of my struggles and they paired me up with a few other ladies or left me alone. I was given my instructions in notes left in my mailbox. I loved it. It was like a game to me to see what I would have to do that day, and at times, they would include a joke, too.

I found small one room apartment 4 months later and moved my meager belongings in. They consisted of a radio, a mattress and some clothes, some glasses and silverware and plates too that were placed in storage for me by both Jenn and Melanie while the trial was going on. Life rolled on and I maintained a very shy existence at work and my social life diminished to next to nothing. I resorted to immersing myself in books and music. I gathered a lot of LP’s and cassettes. Bands like: Journey, Led Zeppelin, Rush, April Wine, Harlequin, The Stones, the Who, Black Sabbath, AC/DC. Books by authors; Patterson, King, and Follett.

I wondered often what my life was going to be like. I wondered if things would be ever the same. Were the things that I had experienced before, return? Were those things from my past to continue? I had no idea. Al that I knew was that I had to try and live as best I could. Yeah, right, I seriously began to question everything. I took a night course on Human Resources. I enrolled and passed. My life would once again change dramatically in June of 1997. This event would upset the balance of how I was to live.