So.. September 1990 and I start a B.Sc. in speech science at University College London. The first term is spent wondering when I'm going to collapse again.. and by the end of the second term, I feel like I'm flying. The year goes well. and the second year goes even better. At this point, I start looking at my sexuality, and my coming out journey begins. I've written a whole other page on that, so you can digress via there and come back here if you've not read it already.

But also about this time, the old depression started to hit me again. I spend Christmas of 1992 in Australia with my parents, and, all of a sudden, I began to feel as if I was doing this course for them and not for me any more. And following from that, I felt as if I wasn't doing well enough.. that I had to be perfect again. All the old Oxford feelings returned with a vengenace. And my work began to suffer. After breaking down in tears on a clinical placement in Easter, I was referred to a psychiatrist at University College Hospital. Of course there was a waiting list, and he finally saw me on July 4th 1993. I spent an hour in his office, answering the questions he fired at me: "describe your mother". "how is your relationship with your father". "who told you the facts of life?". "were you sexually abused as a child?" "what age did you first menstruate?"... in that order!!! I left feeling as if I had been mentally raped, and clutching a prescription for Prozac.

It turned out that the waiting list for pyschotherapy was even longer, and when I did get seen for assessment, the guy wanted to see me twice a week for two years, which I couldn't commit to.. so I found my own therapist, through a friend's reccomendation. I started working with her at the beginning of my masters degree, in September 1995, and stayed for as long as I could.. until I left for the States at the end of October.

Janie. She saved my life almost. She listened while I talked, about what Bill had done to me. She helped me see the consequences. She helped me to face up to some irresponsible behaviour - I had had affairs with three women, and not told my partner, and had caused everyone a lot of hurt in the process, as after having had sex, I would then "drop" the other person, not speak to them, not want to communicate at all. I can see now that this was a way of trying to get revenge for what Bill had done, how I had been treated then.. but I could not run away from the damage I had caused to others any more. And if any of the other women who were caught up with me in this "Pirate" phase, .. if you read this... I would like to say once again that I am sorry. I treated you poorly, and am doing my best to make amends.

For more about psychosynthesis therapy, what I learned about my subpersonalities, about being twenty eight, and working with the different "bits" of me, see here.

So, with the help of the Prozac, which has reduced my wanting to cut myself, and with lots of talking, I got through my third and fourth years at University, and struggled through my masters degree. Talking about what had happened was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Going back, re-feeling how small and scared I was - and, more importantly, realising that what I had believed for so long (that I was bad, dirty, evil inside) was a LIE. I wish I could put down some magic formula that I followed.. but I don't think there is one.. I spent a long time looking for it. Little things help.. like those I've listed on my coping page.

If anyone else is starting this journey, I would encourage you to find a therapist you can talk to, find other survivors who are working this through and can support you, get hold of as many books as you need.. and buy a big box of crayons and a drawing pad and a teddy bear. Take care of you. You deserve it.

Back to "I Have Survived" or on to next page in my story...