Samantha's Story
Spende geschützt
TRIGGER WARNING: childhood sexual assault, domestic violence, loss of loved ones and suicidal thoughts.
“Hello everyone, my name is Samantha, I am a 22 years old survivor of childhood sexual abuse and domestic violence. I have been diagnosed with CPTSD, OCD, panic disorder and major depressive disorder. I am sharing my story in hopes of raising enough money to get my amazing puppy robin trained to be a registered service dog. Training a service dog is very expensive and beyond my financial means. Although most trainers charge anywhere from $20,000 to more than $30,000 i have found a highly recommended trainer in the Salt Lake valley who will charge a more accessible rate of $9,000-$12,000 which will go towards service dog training and related expenses.
For 11 years of my life, from the age of 2 years old until I was 13, I was continuously molested and raped by somebody in my life that I should have been able to trust. When I was old enough to somewhat understand that what they were doing was wrong, I became very fearful and did not think that I could speak up about the abuse. I didn’t fully understand the magnitude of the things that were done to me. Family and friends didn’t see that somebody so close to us all was hurting me so deeply. I felt as though my pain and fear was so obvious that people were choosing not to see it… but at the same time, I was terrified that if people were to find out about the abuse, they would not believe me because “they’d never do those things.” But my deepest fear was that the abuse would only worsen if I spoke up. This fear kept me silent for almost 20 years. Even after the abuse had stopped, this person was a family friend, and they were still in my life. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween, Easter, Church, family dinner parties, weddings and so much more.
Between the ages of 15-16 things inside of my head were worse than they’d been yet. I was still in the same environment as this person who had hurt me for such a long time and I was absolutely terrified that the abuse would pick up again. I had been robbed of the sense of security that most little girls normally have. I can not tell you how many sleepless nights I have had. How deeply afraid I have been to fall asleep, because I knew that the nightmares would come shortly after drifting off. Once the exhaustion was too much for my body to handle, I would crash. This meant me being trapped in a deep sleep that was filled with the worst moments in my life playing over and over again until I would finally wake up. Most of the time hyperventilating, my heart about to jump out of my chest and tears streaming down my face. Sometimes in a puddle of sweat. I told the people in my life that I was having nightmares about “monsters”.
For my 16th birthday things turned up a bit. I became the momma of the best boy around, Mister Man, a white lab/boxer/pit mix. He was my handsome, loving, caring, attentive and intuitive dog. Mister saved my life. There is no doubt in my mind that I would not be here sharing these words if it weren’t for him. He was my best friend and my soul-dog. He was intuitive and always knew what I needed. He knew all of my deepest fears and he protected me from them. He laid in front of my door while I slept, making sure to alert me if there was anybody approaching. He knew when I was triggered and brought me back to the here and now. He licked my tears away. He would apply deep tissue pressure when I was having a panic attack. He woke me up from my night-terrors. He never left my side. He was simply my lifeline. My Angel. Things were still very painful and scary at this time, but with him by my side I knew I could get through the day.
At the age of 18 I was in a new and exciting relationship and was just about to graduate from high school. This was my first “serious” relationship. I was in love with the idea of love. Things were SO great in the beginning! I thought that I had found “the one”. About 3 weeks into the relationship I was over at his apartment cooking dinner for us. I fixed one of my favorites, mac and cheese with hotdogs. When he got to the apartment the snapped. He beat and raped me that night. And just like that, I was a little girl again. Trapped. Terrified. Paralyzed. This was the first of many times to come in that relationship that I was afraid for my life. The next morning, he told me that he had wanted me to fix us spaghetti instead of mac and cheese.
It was at this time that I started lying to my mom and grandparents about where I was. He would not let me leave the apartment and I knew that I couldn’t hide the bruises from my family and friends. I told my mom that I was going to stay at my grandparent’s house, and told my grandparents that I had to stay home at moms. When he raped and beat me I instantly became that paralyzed little girl again, full of hurt and confusion, I stayed that way for the remainder of the time I was with him. I often look back at this time in my life and think to myself “Why wasn’t being treated like that just once enough to leave?” And the only answer that I can give is paralyzing fear . I was in that relationship for a total of 3 months. Him breaking my collar bone was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was so distraught when running out of his apartment that I hit a cement pole with my car as I was leaving. He knew where I lived, and where my grandparents lived too. I didn’t feel safe anywhere, but I ended up staying with a friend for almost a month. That month is still a blur.
It wasn’t until after I got out that of that relationship that I learned about real love. I met an amazing, understanding, patient and gentle man. He showed me what a healthy relationship looks like. Things were going better than they had ever been. I had Misters protection and Ethans love and support. Nobody other than Ethan and Mister knew about any of it. I kept it bottled up for years.
On April 12th 2021, I had to make the agonizing decision to let my boy go. When Mister died, I felt as though I had lost everything. He saved my life, he helped me cope with the pain that I lived with daily, and without him it was all so unbearable. Half of my heart was gone. Functioning without him by my side became more and more impossible and painful with every day that passed. I didn’t know how to explain why this loss hit me so hard. Why I was SO LOST without him. I isolated myself and cut everybody out of my life without any explanation. Mister had been my only coping mechanism for 5 years, without him it felt as though I had nothing to live for anymore. I lost my sense of security and had nothing to look forward to. When Mister was here, we would wake up, go potty outside, I would feed him breakfast and then we would play for a bit. But now the only “reason” I had to pull myself out of bed was eating and using the bathroom. People didn’t understand. And I didn't realize this at the time, but how could they? Nobody knew what I had been though and what I lost, I hadn’t told them. How were they supposed to understand what all I lost the day that I put Mister down? I was fighting for my life and knew that I needed to speak up if I was going to get through this loss alive.
In May 2021 I found an amazing team of female doctors consisting of an OBGYN, therapist and behavioral health specialist. The three of them helped me keep going. Shortly after I starting seeing them I was diagnosed with Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD), along with OCD, panic disorder and clinical depression. I am affected by all of these monsters every day. Daily tasks that would be considered mundane to others are completely crippling for me. I do not go out in public alone. Tears uncontrollably stream down my face in the supermarket parking lot because I already feel the panic setting in. The possibility of having to speak to anybody, maybe somebody brushing past me too close, and that annoying intercom beeping loudly at unexpected times and so much more rush through my head at 100 miles an hour. I can no longer go into the bank, but I can take the drive-through and hold myself together long enough to get through the line. I have not been out to eat, because the vulnerability of sitting in a room with that many strangers is too much to bear. If I have to go to a gas station and only have cash to pay with, I will drive from gas station to gas station with my gas light blinking at me until I find one where a female attendant is working because I cannot be alone with a man. I get triggered daily by unfamiliar men, but I also get triggered by men that are in my everyday life. Hugs, somebody passing by me too close, putting their hand on my shoulder or back of my arm, a pat on the back, touching of my hand, any unwanted or unexpected physical touch sends me into a tail spin. In these moments I feel the touch of my abusers on my skin again.
Shortly after seeing my new OBGYN for the first time and talking about my “scaring… down there” we discussed the things that I had been through and came up with a plan on how to help me moving forward. She helped me realize how detrimental it would be to my eventual recovery to not open up to my family about my trauma. Two weeks after that talk I started to open up to my grandmother and then other family members. From then on I have been trying to talk more openly about the trauma in my past and the many triggers that I now have.
I have found an absolutely wonderful therapist who has been helping me face the past as well as the present. I am so very grateful for her and all that she has done and is still doing for me. She is also the one that suggested that I get another dog and train it to be a service animal. This suggestion has given me hope for the future. I found the most beautiful white Labrador puppy and brought her home on November 16th.
On the day Mister died, a Robin flew up to my window and pecked at it while I was mourning him just an hour after coming home from the vets office without him. That Red Breasted Robin coming down and sitting with me while I began grieving my Mister Man made me feel like his spirit was there to comfort me and tell me that even though he was gone, he would always be with me. Because of this, in honor of Mister Man, I have named her Robin.”
My husband and I (grandparents) are planning a move out of state in 2022. She will be going with us as a way to start a new chapter in her life . As she builds a new life away from Utah, Robin, as her service dog will be an essential part of her future as she seeks further education and employment.
If you would like to contribute to this very worthy cause by donating or sharing her story, you will be a wonderful part of a young woman’s journey from being simply a “survivor “ to becoming a “thriver”.
We thank you for your generosity and caring support
“Hello everyone, my name is Samantha, I am a 22 years old survivor of childhood sexual abuse and domestic violence. I have been diagnosed with CPTSD, OCD, panic disorder and major depressive disorder. I am sharing my story in hopes of raising enough money to get my amazing puppy robin trained to be a registered service dog. Training a service dog is very expensive and beyond my financial means. Although most trainers charge anywhere from $20,000 to more than $30,000 i have found a highly recommended trainer in the Salt Lake valley who will charge a more accessible rate of $9,000-$12,000 which will go towards service dog training and related expenses.
For 11 years of my life, from the age of 2 years old until I was 13, I was continuously molested and raped by somebody in my life that I should have been able to trust. When I was old enough to somewhat understand that what they were doing was wrong, I became very fearful and did not think that I could speak up about the abuse. I didn’t fully understand the magnitude of the things that were done to me. Family and friends didn’t see that somebody so close to us all was hurting me so deeply. I felt as though my pain and fear was so obvious that people were choosing not to see it… but at the same time, I was terrified that if people were to find out about the abuse, they would not believe me because “they’d never do those things.” But my deepest fear was that the abuse would only worsen if I spoke up. This fear kept me silent for almost 20 years. Even after the abuse had stopped, this person was a family friend, and they were still in my life. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween, Easter, Church, family dinner parties, weddings and so much more.
Between the ages of 15-16 things inside of my head were worse than they’d been yet. I was still in the same environment as this person who had hurt me for such a long time and I was absolutely terrified that the abuse would pick up again. I had been robbed of the sense of security that most little girls normally have. I can not tell you how many sleepless nights I have had. How deeply afraid I have been to fall asleep, because I knew that the nightmares would come shortly after drifting off. Once the exhaustion was too much for my body to handle, I would crash. This meant me being trapped in a deep sleep that was filled with the worst moments in my life playing over and over again until I would finally wake up. Most of the time hyperventilating, my heart about to jump out of my chest and tears streaming down my face. Sometimes in a puddle of sweat. I told the people in my life that I was having nightmares about “monsters”.
For my 16th birthday things turned up a bit. I became the momma of the best boy around, Mister Man, a white lab/boxer/pit mix. He was my handsome, loving, caring, attentive and intuitive dog. Mister saved my life. There is no doubt in my mind that I would not be here sharing these words if it weren’t for him. He was my best friend and my soul-dog. He was intuitive and always knew what I needed. He knew all of my deepest fears and he protected me from them. He laid in front of my door while I slept, making sure to alert me if there was anybody approaching. He knew when I was triggered and brought me back to the here and now. He licked my tears away. He would apply deep tissue pressure when I was having a panic attack. He woke me up from my night-terrors. He never left my side. He was simply my lifeline. My Angel. Things were still very painful and scary at this time, but with him by my side I knew I could get through the day.
At the age of 18 I was in a new and exciting relationship and was just about to graduate from high school. This was my first “serious” relationship. I was in love with the idea of love. Things were SO great in the beginning! I thought that I had found “the one”. About 3 weeks into the relationship I was over at his apartment cooking dinner for us. I fixed one of my favorites, mac and cheese with hotdogs. When he got to the apartment the snapped. He beat and raped me that night. And just like that, I was a little girl again. Trapped. Terrified. Paralyzed. This was the first of many times to come in that relationship that I was afraid for my life. The next morning, he told me that he had wanted me to fix us spaghetti instead of mac and cheese.
It was at this time that I started lying to my mom and grandparents about where I was. He would not let me leave the apartment and I knew that I couldn’t hide the bruises from my family and friends. I told my mom that I was going to stay at my grandparent’s house, and told my grandparents that I had to stay home at moms. When he raped and beat me I instantly became that paralyzed little girl again, full of hurt and confusion, I stayed that way for the remainder of the time I was with him. I often look back at this time in my life and think to myself “Why wasn’t being treated like that just once enough to leave?” And the only answer that I can give is paralyzing fear . I was in that relationship for a total of 3 months. Him breaking my collar bone was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was so distraught when running out of his apartment that I hit a cement pole with my car as I was leaving. He knew where I lived, and where my grandparents lived too. I didn’t feel safe anywhere, but I ended up staying with a friend for almost a month. That month is still a blur.
It wasn’t until after I got out that of that relationship that I learned about real love. I met an amazing, understanding, patient and gentle man. He showed me what a healthy relationship looks like. Things were going better than they had ever been. I had Misters protection and Ethans love and support. Nobody other than Ethan and Mister knew about any of it. I kept it bottled up for years.
On April 12th 2021, I had to make the agonizing decision to let my boy go. When Mister died, I felt as though I had lost everything. He saved my life, he helped me cope with the pain that I lived with daily, and without him it was all so unbearable. Half of my heart was gone. Functioning without him by my side became more and more impossible and painful with every day that passed. I didn’t know how to explain why this loss hit me so hard. Why I was SO LOST without him. I isolated myself and cut everybody out of my life without any explanation. Mister had been my only coping mechanism for 5 years, without him it felt as though I had nothing to live for anymore. I lost my sense of security and had nothing to look forward to. When Mister was here, we would wake up, go potty outside, I would feed him breakfast and then we would play for a bit. But now the only “reason” I had to pull myself out of bed was eating and using the bathroom. People didn’t understand. And I didn't realize this at the time, but how could they? Nobody knew what I had been though and what I lost, I hadn’t told them. How were they supposed to understand what all I lost the day that I put Mister down? I was fighting for my life and knew that I needed to speak up if I was going to get through this loss alive.
In May 2021 I found an amazing team of female doctors consisting of an OBGYN, therapist and behavioral health specialist. The three of them helped me keep going. Shortly after I starting seeing them I was diagnosed with Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD), along with OCD, panic disorder and clinical depression. I am affected by all of these monsters every day. Daily tasks that would be considered mundane to others are completely crippling for me. I do not go out in public alone. Tears uncontrollably stream down my face in the supermarket parking lot because I already feel the panic setting in. The possibility of having to speak to anybody, maybe somebody brushing past me too close, and that annoying intercom beeping loudly at unexpected times and so much more rush through my head at 100 miles an hour. I can no longer go into the bank, but I can take the drive-through and hold myself together long enough to get through the line. I have not been out to eat, because the vulnerability of sitting in a room with that many strangers is too much to bear. If I have to go to a gas station and only have cash to pay with, I will drive from gas station to gas station with my gas light blinking at me until I find one where a female attendant is working because I cannot be alone with a man. I get triggered daily by unfamiliar men, but I also get triggered by men that are in my everyday life. Hugs, somebody passing by me too close, putting their hand on my shoulder or back of my arm, a pat on the back, touching of my hand, any unwanted or unexpected physical touch sends me into a tail spin. In these moments I feel the touch of my abusers on my skin again.
Shortly after seeing my new OBGYN for the first time and talking about my “scaring… down there” we discussed the things that I had been through and came up with a plan on how to help me moving forward. She helped me realize how detrimental it would be to my eventual recovery to not open up to my family about my trauma. Two weeks after that talk I started to open up to my grandmother and then other family members. From then on I have been trying to talk more openly about the trauma in my past and the many triggers that I now have.
I have found an absolutely wonderful therapist who has been helping me face the past as well as the present. I am so very grateful for her and all that she has done and is still doing for me. She is also the one that suggested that I get another dog and train it to be a service animal. This suggestion has given me hope for the future. I found the most beautiful white Labrador puppy and brought her home on November 16th.
On the day Mister died, a Robin flew up to my window and pecked at it while I was mourning him just an hour after coming home from the vets office without him. That Red Breasted Robin coming down and sitting with me while I began grieving my Mister Man made me feel like his spirit was there to comfort me and tell me that even though he was gone, he would always be with me. Because of this, in honor of Mister Man, I have named her Robin.”
My husband and I (grandparents) are planning a move out of state in 2022. She will be going with us as a way to start a new chapter in her life . As she builds a new life away from Utah, Robin, as her service dog will be an essential part of her future as she seeks further education and employment.
If you would like to contribute to this very worthy cause by donating or sharing her story, you will be a wonderful part of a young woman’s journey from being simply a “survivor “ to becoming a “thriver”.
We thank you for your generosity and caring support
Organisator und Spendenbegünstigter
Elfie Guymon
Organisator
Sandy City, UT
Samantha Guymon
Spendenbegünstigte