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Hell Or High Water

I hate that every movie I’ve watched lately has had some joke about rape that upon watching instantly puts my mind into coma. Actually, I just hate that for the most part society finds it as something to joke about. Just hearing the word stuns me. I blank. My body is there, but my mind isn’t. It’s gone. Just like that night. My body was there, but my mind was somewhere else. Anywhere else…

Now that I don’t have school to distract me, all I’m left with are my thoughts. I’m going crazy. Too much time in my head. All I hear is his voice. And his hands…goddamn his hands. I never stood a chance. 

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Woe Is Me

So I was doing some after semester apartment cleaning today and what did I come across? The name and phone number of my attacker from when I initially found out. I’ve managed to forget his name until I came across it on a piece of paper. In a fit of fear and panic I threw it away, but I feel like the universe is collapsing in on me. I’m all shaken up. Rattle me this.

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Horizons

I stopped going to therapy. And, well, the semester is over and it isn’t free until the Spring session starts so that gives me six weeks of nothingness, which, I think, I need. I’ve made some big realizations in my sessions and I’m working through them and I’m really proud of my progress. I feel like whenever I post on here it’s when I’m upset or having flashbacks so looking at this blog makes it seem like I’m like that constantly struggling, but overall, I’ve been able to force forward just fine. I have some of the world’s most genuine people in my life who love and support me and I could not be more thankful for them.

I want to share a two things I wrote after the initial incident. Looking back on them I can clearly see the pain and anger in the lines, and I’m sad that after writing these I haven’t been writing much since. In some small sad way for a while I felt like that was taken from me, but I’m getting it back. I’m getting me back. 

*Even after this monstrosity
I still have my dignity
And although I’ve lost hope in humanity
Payback’s a bitch
I’ll have you begging for mercy
From a god you know does not exist
And I insist
To make you feel this ten fold of what I did  

*I don’t even know the name of my attacker
I don’t even remember his face
I couldn’t really tell you what even happened
All I know is I feel like such a disgrace 

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Breathe

Victim: an unfortunate person who suffers from some adverse circumstance

Survivor: a person who continues to function or prosper in spite of opposition, hardship, or setbacks

I am a rape survivor, not a victim.

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Fight. Flight. Freeze.

screamingishealthy:

When someone gets scared, they either fight (defend themselves), flight (run), or freeze (go limp). You are automatically programmed to do one of these things for each traumatic event. Sexual assault, rape, fights, mugging, etc. You are unable to do ANY OTHER THING. You are physically not able to fight if your brain isn’t programmed that way. Which proves once more, even if you didn’t fight. It isn’t your fault.

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The Entire City Was Silent

Your hands are cold around my neck
My breath is shaking, I’m scared of what’s next
I just want it to be over
To not feel your breath upon my shoulders
To find an exit and leave
To run towards it at godspeed
And seek safety
…I still haven’t found safety

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Cover Your Eyes

I said no, I said no, I said no…

It scares me to think that I had absolutely no control. 
That my legs were held apart and all I could do was cry.

I wish these flashbacks would stop. 

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Fight Off Your Demons

Another counseling session today…

I guess it’s going well. It’s just hard. I haven’t cried about it in a long time. Every day is a fight, but some days I just get tired of fighting. I’m so tired of fighting. I just want to not feel so alone. 

I wish this never fucking happened. 

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Composure

My first session went really well, it was kind of overwhelming to start, but it feels good to be talking about it more openly. The only thing that scares me is that when I’m in that small box of a room and all my feelings are out in the open, I feel oddly safe, knowing that what’s in my head is splayed out across the walls of that room and in the atmosphere. The second I step outside I feel like I have to put everything back in a box and compartmentalize it and get back on board with “the real world”, which doesn’t stop for anyone. I’m slow to pick up the pace again.