Here goes nothing...

3 years after being raped I am amazed of a few different things.  First off, how far my thinking has evolved.  Being a "rape survivor" (which is a term that was taught to me by the social worker who saw me in the hospital) truly is a journey.  You go through so much emotionally, constantly evolving, constantly trying to find the person you lost in that one moment.  

Directly following the incident I remember being determined that nothing had happened, I was at fault, he was a nice guy, and it was no big deal. I was a freshman at college when I was raped and my rapist was a year older than me and on the basketball team.  I saw myself as young and naive.  I thought it was possible that i just sent the wrong signals without even knowing it.  That he didn't mean it and to even imply that he had raped me would hurt HIM too much.  My roommate told me that night after I came home that she saw the look in my eyes and knew something was really wrong.  

It was my friends that pushed me to go to the school's counseling center when it physically appeared that I was still shook-en up over it the next day.  It was the counselor's at the center that instructed me to go to the hospital to get the rape test.  It was the hospital that called the police.  It was me that decided when i finally got control of the situation again, that I wanted nothing more but to ignore that it had happened and to walk away.   I couldn't say the word "rape."  It honestly scared every part of me.   The farthest I could get myself to confront the situation was to call it "sexual assault," but most times just referring to it as "the incident."   

The following weeks I felt numb.  I felt nothing.  A year later, I was exhausted of putting up this whole act that I was "fine."  I had buried myself in school work and my new habit of running and dieting.  I set up schedules and daily to-do lists to keep myself busy.  Any free time I had I was at the track or gym running.  After dropping all of my "freshman fifteen" and then some I officially lost 30 lbs in 6 months and weighing barely 100 lbs at the height of 5' 3".  I moved home my sophomore year feeling like I finally was hitting a wall.  I couldn't be alone with myself in front of a mirror or I'd start hysterically crying feeling pure fear and anxiety.  I remember the day after my rape when I showered.  I was disgusted with my naked body and more aware of my nakedness, my vulnerability than ever before.  My hatred toward my body only grew stronger as the year went on.  My emotions, my thoughts, everything following the raped was completely consumed with the hate that was now growing toward my own body.  

Leaving school was a particular vulnerable time for me sophomore year.  I was at a level of pure disgust with myself and in complete denial of everything that had happened.  It was also the one year anniversary of "the incident" and I was leaving my friends (who were mildly comfortable with openly discussing my feelings with me) and going home to my family who still to this day will not talk about anything "uncomfortable" (aka my rape) with me.  I decided this lifestyle was exhausting and decided to attempt to talk to someone about it.  Everyday of my life I lived in pure pain with feelings of complete emptiness in between.  I woke in the middle of the night from nightmares.  Flashbacks irked into my daily train of thought.  I went to a counselor at a women's crisis center but could only stand the idea of therapy for a week or two.  I stopped going when the discussions got too confrontational and still feel guilty for never returning my therapists phone calls.  I literally just stopped showing up without warning. 

 

My junior year was when I met Chris, my boyfriend now.  It was the first time I actually felt comfortable with myself.  Two years later and he still to this day can sense when I start to feel anxious.  He just knows how to do little things (like hold my hand) when the pain creeps in.  My flashbacks became fewer and less intrusive as time went on.  Going through a painful situation himself of moving home after serving active in the Navy and doing his own soul searching, I easily buried myself into helping Chris and ignoring my own problems.  At times I became hyper critical with him, realizing now that it was only a reflection of my own self criticism.  I've done everything I possible could to push Chris away.  I've tested him, held things inside, let explosive temper tantrums out, and still he looks at me as though I'm perfect.  Somehow I can't stand when he looks at me this way.  I am not perfect, I am broken.  Sometimes I want him to acknowledge that.  

I have now graduated and this spring was the 3 year anniversary of my rape.  Calling it "rape" as scary as it is was step one to realizing it really happened.  I still am not able to fully commit to this idea in my head.  I say "I know I was raped and it was not my fault," but in my head a million questions still follow until I finally conclude that it isn't as big of a deal as I make it sound.  I had a thought the other day after talking with Chris on the phone.  I have the most amazing man in my life and I still cannot find myself happy.  I graduated from a great school, got my dream job, get along with my parents, am dating an amazing man, which all looks wonderful, right?   And yet there is an emptiness, this huge shadow that cannot seem to leave.  

3 years after being raped and I still find myself every once in a while crying for no reason.  I didn't cry for 5 months after my rape and then there came a time when I only cried in the most inappropriate times.  I used to force myself into having sex with random guys when I was drunk as a way of proving to myself that I was strong and over the situation.  About two seconds into the act I begin hysterically crying and that would be that.  What I love about Chris is how sensitive he is about "making love" which is the only thing he'll call it.  He waited with me to "make love" and our first time was really special.  I think he was shaking more than I was.  But even now, after a year and a half with him and being shown nothing but love and sensitivity I still will freak out and cry during the act.  It's completely unpredictable when I do too.  One time he actually started crying because my reaction was so strong that he thought he had hurt me.  I hate that I still think about it.  I hate that it's still here.  I hate that I have never had even a single moment of feeling like myself since I was raped.  

So i guess if I can't hide from it, I have to acknowledge it.  So here I fucking am rapist.  Here i am okay I acknowledge you...now can I have my life back?  Can I get ME back.  Because ever since he raped me, I have felt like a shell will complete nothingness for insides.  I feel like the most insecure and self-critical person alive.  I have issues with anxiety and get anxiety attacks for no reason.  I doubt myself constantly.  Three years flew by and it sounds so sad but I feel as though I am only just now able to process, and very slowly, the pain.    Session one with my therapist started this past saturday and she thought starting a journal would be therapy so here goes nothing.