A Journey Up From Rape Trauma

In 1987 I completed my doctorate in anthropology and began an academic career. It happened in one night, a month into my new career, when the rapist woke me. He stood over me, his arms raised in an assault position. I fought to escape; he clubbed me with his fists. I knew he would beat me into submission or worse. Survivors of rape make a decision between torture or death. I wanted to live, so I chose the rape over the possibility of being murdered. It was a terrible choice, but one that meant survival.

The police met me at the hospital. I never saw the rapist's face, so I knew that finding the rapist would be very difficult, but protecting other women in the neighborhood was important to me. I also wanted to let the FBI and police know that there was one more rape in this country – one more reported rape. Doing my part to warn the community was the first step I took toward reclaiming my power as an individual.

I was persistent in my search for the rapist, and persistence won out. He was found only three months after the attack by a private investigator – the rapist was a neighbor living two blocks away who had a seventeen-year history of raping women. Authorities had DNA evidence, but the case did not go to trial for six years, a fact that left me feeling victimized all over again. Thankfully, the jury pronounced "guilty" twelve times, and the judge sentenced the rapist to many years in prison.

"It is hard for loved ones to know how rape and other violent crimes affect the victim afterwards, or how to help."

Ironically, I previously worked in a rape crisis center. I read all the literature; I was informed. I always took steps to protect myself, and taught my friends to do the same. My rape shattered notions of safety. But the knowledge I retained from my work helped to save my life and motivate me to get the emotional and medical help I needed to heal.

Strategies for my survival involved 24-hour-a-day self-care to combat depression. That meant eating right and getting enough sleep. Maintaining a sense of humor would help me get through the years of litigation. Exercise was crucial, and my outlet became running. I ran at least three two-mile runs a week, and some weeks, I ran daily even up to five miles at a time. The most important thing I did was to simply keep persevering.

Having support in the years following the rape was crucial . But it is hard for loved ones to know how rape and other violent crimes affect the victim afterwards, or how to help. In my situation, I decided to tell them in an honest letter about what had happened to me and how people had reacted to the rape, and support grew as a result.

With the encouragement of friends, I put my pain into words. The articles I wrote eventually led to a book, "One Night, Realities of Rape." The difficulty in writing was re-experiencing the trauma, but that process helped to release it. New people in my life never guess that I went through what I did. When they learn about it, they are surprised that I don't live with the anger and hate, but the hate belongs to the rapist and isn't a part of me.

Somehow, I'm lucky. I'm alive; the rapist is in prison; and my book is in print. Making it means knowing we can find a strategy to heal, to rise up and to reclaim the future.

A former educator, today Cathy Winkler is a field investigator in Virginia Beach.