Traumas That Scarred Me For Life

Everything started in Fifth Grade. I was verbally abused by an unknown male caller for over a month. I was home alone one day after school (both my parents worked, and older brother had afterschool sports), and I receive a phone call from a male, who knew my name. The first couple days, he would just talk normally. Then, things started to get out of hand. There were weird sounds he was making (when I got older, I realized he was probably masturbating). (I come from a Chinese background, and since we were little, we were told that it's rude to hang up on people. So, it never occurred to me that I could just hang up the phone). So, these phone calls lasted for over a month. When one day, my parents notice that there was something different about my attitude. We sat down as a family and I told them about the unknown male caller. So, my dad had forwarded the home phone number to his cell phone, so if he called, it would be a male voice picking up. The calls eventually stopped, but ever since then, I was afraid to answer the phone whenever it rang. We didn't have Caller ID back then, so whenever the phone rings and I'm home alone, I'd let voice mail pick it up. I was afraid I'd hear the same tone of voice on the other end of the line. To this day, I'm afraid to answer the phone, or make phone calls to people I do not know. Even when I make phone calls, say to make a doctor's appointment. I hesitate, with the phone in my hand, my chest suddenly feels heavy and my breathing becomes quick and shallow. I know who the receptionists are, and they are all female. But I still hesitate. Another incident happened in that year. I had started taking swimming lessons the year before. And in Fifth Grade, I was at Level 3. When during one class, we had to try going into the deep end of the pool. The instructor had each of us jump in. As it was my first, I did not how to stay afloat. So, when it was my turn, I sank. My Instructor had to grab my hair to pull me out! I was horrible at treading water to stay afloat, I always end up slowly sinking. So, ever since they, the deep in of the pool had been my fear. After that time, during class, I'd just hang at the edge of the pool as the other students learned to swim in the deep end. There was one class, after my class, I went to the hot tub with my dad. Then, when we were in the Family Change Room to get washed up, I fainted. The staff called the ambulance and I was taken to the hospital. My instructor found out about it, and during the remaining of classes, I had a life guard keep an eye on me at all times. These incidents happened in Fifth Grade, and I'm turning 32 in January 2019.

(I went to that same pool a couple of years ago. I wanted to see if I can overcome my fear of the deep end of the pool). I was good with back stroke, and I could stay afloat on my back more easily. So, at first, I was in the slow lanes, that was by the edge of the pool. So, if I felt uneasy, I can always stop and grab hold of the side of the pool. When, I felt more confident and more people were in the slow lanes. I decided to try the regular lanes, that are like the middle lanes of the pool. Where if I need to hold on to something in the middle of the swim, it'd be the floating things that separated each lane. I was trying to count how many strokes it'd take me to go from one end to the next without stopping, and counting the decorations hanging from the ceiling. I was doing okay for awhile, but for one time, I lost count of my strokes and I was about 1.5 metres short from the end. So, when I stopped, I was kind of panicking and flapping around in the water. When I got hold of the edge, a life guard kneels down above me asking if I was okay. After that, I told my dad I've had enough. So we went over to the hot tub. And he said he wanted to go into the sauna and asked me to go with him. Since he said it's good to break a sweat. I went inside with him, and in less than 2 minutes, I said I can't handle the heat. As we stepped out, I blacked out. When I came to, I was seated on the floor outside the sauna room, with another life guard with me. Then, I began vomiting non-stop. It seems like it lasted for at least 10 minutes. Since they are trained with first aid and all, they took my pulse and such, gave me a bottle of water to rinse my mouth. At one point, a guy came to us asking if they needed help (he was a paramedic). He got the details as to what had happened, he checked my pulse and gave the life guard his ID #, in case it's needed for records. This time, I didn't need to go to the hospital. I just sat there as we waiting for my pulse to become normal. My dad quickly got changed and grabbed our bags. I was wheeled out to our car in a wheelchair instead. Still in my bathing suit, wrapped in my towel and we headed home. Looks like it'll be another 10 years before I try swimming again! I'm so afraid of drowning and sinking!

When I started Sixth Grade, I joined my brother in Scouting. Because we were Sea Scouts, during the summer, we are at the beach, learning how to sail boats. Those boats are the smaller ones, only can have 2 people in it. That summer, my first time learning how to sail. We had classes and a written test in a classroom setting first. Then, came the real thing. I was paired up with another girl, she was several years younger than I, but was experienced. First time out in the ocean, in a small sail boat. I power boat passes by us suddenly, creating waves. And next thing we knew, we were capsized. The girl, with experience, jumped out and into the waters. I, on the otherhand, just sat there not knowing what to do. As our boat capsized, I found myself trapped underneath the boat. It capsized 180 degrees, not just on the side. Not only was a trapped underneath, somehow, one of the ropes ended up around my neck! One of the higher ranked Scouter was on the rescue team, and he came to my rescue, took out his pocket knife to cut the rope and set me free. Good thing he came quick enough, because with every wave, I felt the rope get tighter, and I was frantically waving my hand out from under to boat, as if to tell someone that I'm still underneath, don't try to make the boat right side up yet. I was taken back to shore and asked to shower and change out of the wet clothes. Then for the rest of the day, I had an ice pack on my neck to lessen the swelling, waiting for the day to end with leaders who overlook our activities in the building close by. During the meeting at the end, when all the boats are cleaned, put back in storage, everyone has showered and getting ready to leave. The main leader told everyone what had happened, and the guy that came to my rescue was sitting close to me on the floor in front of me (I was resting in a chair), he turned to me and whispered, it scared him when I he first saw the situation I was in. Let's say, for the rest of that summer, and for 4 summers after, I stayed on the shore. Didn't even want to step into another sailboat. Being on bigger sailboats with like 10-13 people is fine, we had bigger sailboats with motors and the sail, during our Deep Sea Expeditions throughout the year. We have sailing/camping trips 2-3 times from September to May.

Seventh Grade, I joined some team sports, and the coach for those sports was the same teacher, he had an appearance that made me feel very uncomfortable. I might have associated him with the phone call male. But this teacher, his eyes look very perverted, they were bulgy and his smile, it was freaky to me. Although I need to seem him and interact during practice and games and tournaments, I was literally scared of him. My friend and I would always end up riding his car when we had to go to other schools for games, I had his license plate memorized. Then, during the weekend, if I went to the mall with my parents, as they looked for a parking space, I would be scanning all the cars and their license plates to hope I don't see his car there. Again, to this day, I still remember his license plate number, but I'm not scanning the cars anymore. As so many years have passed, he probably has a different car with a new license plate number.

Eighth Grade, my homeroom teacher was totally perverted looking. There are some other girls in my class who claimed that they felt him looking down their shirt whenever they are having a conversation with him, and also during PE/Gym class. I was just afraid of him in general. He would smile/smirk out of nowhere and the way he looks at us. I was totally scared. As my homeroom teacher, I had 3 subjects with him. Each day, we'd have 6 subjects. During breaks and other parts of the day where I didn't have a class with him, if I saw him walking towards me at the end of the hallway, I quickly turnaround and walk to the other direction. So, many times, I end up taking the long way to my next class, to avoid passing by his room. Also, in my Seventh Grade year, I attended Stress Management with my counsellor, and I would check in with my counsellor once a week. But with that teacher, he had so many complaints from female students, and their parents. That he was later on suspended for a year. And I learned he went to another high school to teach afterwards. (Luckily it wasn't the same high school I attended).

Ninth Grade (high school), my Social Studies teacher also scared me. His appearance and the way he talks scared me. He once put me on the spot in front of the whole class. Let's say, I was failing the class badly. Because I couldn't concentrate during class, I was so busy thinking about how uncomfortable I was feeling. I once skipped his class for an entire week (my first time in school, to skip a class). My counsellor spoke with me about it and asked me to return, and that he will help me talk to the teacher about why I skipped. He offered to tutor me, to catch up on what I missed. He wanted me to see him 30 minutes before classes start for the morning, I brought my friend with me. But, I ended up just grabbing the notes from him and leaving. During the rest of my high school years, my other teachers were okay. Other male teachers I had, I wasn't afraid of them, but still felt uneasy. Since that Social Studies teacher is always in that one classroom, from Tenth to Twelth Grades, I avoided walking past his classroom. His classroom was about 5 rooms from the end of the hallway. Even when I had a class at the second to last room, I'd walk the long way, go to the second floor, and down the stairs at the end of hallway to get to class. And like that homeroom teacher, I'd turn and walk to the other way if I see him walking towards me. Everyone morning, when I'm dropped off at school, I scan the parking lot for his car. I don't know the license plate number, but I know the brand and colour of his car.

I address all of this as traumas in my life because they still affect me to this day. With every new friend/colleague I meet, when we exchange phone numbers, I always ask them to text me rather than call me. Like I said, even if it's people I know, I don't like answering the phone. Except with my current work, I need to pick up the phone in case they call me in for a shift (I work in a hospital as a casual). Still afraid of the deep end, still afraid to hear an unknown male voice if I answer the phone or when I'm making a phone call. Males I meet who remind me of those teachers, I freak out and become stressed. Still afraid of the deep end of the pool, or any open water where my feet does not touch the bottom.

One last thing, I was diagnosed with depression back in Fifth Grade too. But I was too young to have any medication, and not having any therapy to truly heal from any of the traumas, my depression got worse as years went by. My middle school years (Sixth to Eighth Grades), I had nightmares every day. I'd wake up in the middle of the night, afraid to fall back asleep. And I was always hoping something bad will happen to me. It was during these years that I tried doing some minor overdoses. I remember I tried cutting once during the summer at the Sailing Centre, in the ladies washroom once too. But, did not succeed because it was too painful. All through middle school and high school, I needed to keep seeing a counsellor, at least twice a week. Sadly, in my last year of high school, my counsellor had changed and wasn't as nice. I went to University after graduation. In another city, where it was a 12 hour drive away from home. I finally felt free from my family's pressure of doing well in school, so I lived on campus. I ended up only studying for one year before going home and I withdrew from University altogether. But that first year, I made some new friends, had my first relationship with a guy that I felt comfortable with. Was abandoned by a new friend I made, after telling him a little bit about my depression. I guess he didn't know how to deal with people suffering from depression, so he ignored me in the hallway since then. I also attemped my first overdose in my room that year. I had taken a full bottle of Advil on a Monday, I had planned it over the weekend. Went to our on campus corner store to look at the over-the-counter drugs. Read each lable and chose the bottle that said that it would be harmful if taken too many at a time. I remember I had taken it around 3am, then I slipped into bed to get some rest. I woke up around 9am, feeling a bit dizzy. I made myself walk to the school and went to ask to see my counsellor. I told the reception I really needed to see her, she was apparently with another student. I told her it's an emergency. I guess I might have looked sick or pale or something. She quickly told me to head inside. Once I sat down, I told her what I had done. She calmly, but quickly made arrangements to call for a Taxi to get to the ER with me. I suddenly felt sick when she as making the arrangements, and I asked if I could to the the washroom. She asked if I was running away, I said no, so I left my purse with her. I went to the washroom and vomited. Went back to her office and told her. Then we went to the ER together where she admitted me. I had to stay to be examined to see if it had affected my body, or if I had vomited everything out already. She left to go back to the campus, and I was in the hospital for half a day before they released me. And with my fear of dialing the phone, I had one of the staff help me call for a Taxi to take back to the school (it was free, as it's paid by the school, in my case that is). To this day, my parents don't know about that attempt and my hospital stay.

My second big overdose attempt. It was back in November 2012. I was so depressed I really wanted to end my life, or at least, hoping something bad will happen to me. I had some prescriptions for my sleep/depression. It was in capsules, but I emptied 30 capsules and kept the powder. It was after work, where I was off at 4pm. I lied to my parents that I was having dinner with my Manager. But, my mind was set on the overdose. I had bought a bottle of coke at work, and I was just walking on the street, with no known destination. I mixed the powder into my bottle and sipped it slowly as I walked. I just kept walking all over the city, on streets with less cars/people. I had kept my phone on silent, and even had written suicide letters. I walked for hours, aimlessly, waiting for the medication to kick in, hoping I'd pass out somewhere. I was resting at a corner of an intersection when a car pulled up, it was my parents. It was around 11pm by then. They had apparently, went onto my computer and saw the suicide letters I had written. They had called my then, Pastor for help for the search of me. He and his wife lived a few blocks away from us. Parents took me into the ER where they admitted me immediately. Ran blood tests and said my Creatinine Levels were like 100x above normal. And since I was out all night, and it rained a bit, I was also running a fever. I was kept overnight and was in the hospital for a week. First in the ER, then to regular patient rooms, then into the Psych Ward. After that week, I had a home-program I had to follow, where someone will come to my house and check up on me. My mood and all, and work out a plan as to what resources I can reach if I'm feeling suicidal again. Then, I was signed up for group therapy held at the Out-Patient building, that lasted for 3 months. There were counsellors, therapists, and Psychiatrist facilitating us.

I have been medication free for almost 3 years now. My depression still gets to me from time to time, I still have my triggers. But it's more under control nowadays. Oh, and I have been single ever since that one year realtionship I had back in that first year of University. I think I'm still kind of afraid of men, to actually meet someone. Althought I do hope to get married one day. I really have to thank Kpop, music really does heal!~