After I returned home from Vegas, I went straight to working and trying to stay as busy as I could so I didn't have time to think or be alone to be taken as his slave again. It was 2012 now and I was working on and off for a few different restaurants and sometimes I even worked two different restaurants a day; working double shifts just to try to stay as busy and surrounded by as many people as I could. I would even hang with friends from work as much as I could just so I didn't have to be alone after. I was always terrified he would come for me again soon. He told me I wasn't done "paying my dues" so I just assumed if I let myself be vulnerable, he would do it again.
This was probably 3, 4 months after the last incident: After one of my double shifts, I had come home. It was probably close to midnight. I smoked some pot in my car, and when I was walking to my porch I was grabbed from behind. I ALWAYS checked my surroundings. I was always looking around to make sure I was safe, but it was like he was a ghost and just appeared. I had my mace always with the key ring around my finger like a ring, so I had a grip. But he kept shaking my hand though until it fell in the darkness. I couldn't see his face anyways then, not like I could've used it. He could have been anywhere. It was dark outside, my guard was down and he'd won, again. And I knew this was coming soon. I was going to let him violate me again by not being careful enough. He told me it would happen and I was just waiting around I guess... I wonder how long he'd been watching me. I always felt watched, wasn't sure if I was paranoid or if he really was watching me sometimes.
He had his hand over my mouth saying things to me. He was taunting me. Again, with the thoughts of "oh, he's going to kill me this time." I didn't think, I just acted and I bit his hand just to try to fight back any small way. He ended up letting go of my mouth and I screamed for a second before he started choking me. "I'm going to fucking kill you now!" ("Oh, I was right he is finally going to kill me. Please just don't leave me here for my grandma to find") He was forcing me back to my own car. "Get in!" He shoved me into my backseat and I don't remember what else happened until I woke up. I had a hell of a headache and woke up grabbing at my forehead which was bleeding (have a scar above my left eye). Realizing I was somewhere else in the back of my car and I was cold because it was February. I was completely naked. One wrist was tied with some plastic ties to the door handle. MY door handle. I was in my car. The door at my feet was open and when I looked up to see I saw him there, outside smoking. I remember yelling and trying to rip my arm loose. He came at me, laying his body weight on me "Yea scream louder, I like it. Nobody can fucking hear you!" He leaned into the front seat and grabbed something and put a pill in my mouth like before "swallow it" so I did. I didn't want to be a part of whatever this was as much as I couldn't be. So I took it. I had water in my car, which I grabbed with my free hand out of the seat flap. He grabbed it while I was drinking and it ended up spilling all over me. "Look how wet you are! You are so ready." He started touching me all over. "You want this d*ck. Tell me how much you want it!" He made me give him oral. He performed oral on me. I was very confused. Now I know he just did it to humiliate me. To play mind games with me. Eventually I began reacting because of the drugs. He wanted me to react this way for some reason. I was trying with everything I had to hide it at first. But I couldn't after a while. I didn't even feel like myself. I was "feeling" all of it without wanting to. "Yea you like that? I knew you'd like it eventually sl*t" "Tell me you like it!" He handed me his lighter and told me to melt the plastic tie on my hand; so I melted my ties with the lighter and told me crudely to get on top. So I did. The worst part that makes me feel so guilty and sick was when I thought I peed. I just went into my head and the next thing I remember is feeling like I had to pee and it just happened. I don't know if I said I have to pee as it happened or before but I remember panicking once it was happening. It freaked me out when I remembered he was fucking me again. I thought he was going to hit me, but he said "fuck, yea, do it again." He grabbed me by the hair and moved me face down on the seat, "yea, c*m! squirt on me" and he wouldn't stop until I did it again. After this he became fixated on it. Only later did I learn what "squirting" even was and felt so betrayed by my own body. I think at this point I realized he did have complete control over me and there really was nothing I could do. So I was completely submissive. I gave up. If it felt good, I just allowed it to feel good because it was better than the alternative. "You'll never c*m again without thinking about me." "You'll try to forget but you never will."
^This and the other two attacks are the ones etched into my mind, but I don't remember a lot of things. Just pieces of conversations, body memories caused by triggering sensations or words,remembering feelings associated with random objects that I guess can be triggering sometimes (which I don't have the full memories to, if that makes sense? example:a toddler shoe reminds me of feeling hopeless. I saw one in his car once, but I don't remember why I was in there or what happened before or after that)
This "situation?" or what have you, where he used me sexually became a more regular thing. It was always basically the same as before, with less violence since he did what he intended and broke me with that violence. Drugs, sex. Making me do whatever thing he thought of. Mostly dominant, submissive where I was controlled completely and humiliated but enjoyed the pleasure physically. That was his fantasy it seemed. Like this specific one I'm sure won't sound surprising: He did a teacher-student scenario where he would ask me questions "So you need to pass my class? What are you willing to do for me samantha? can you squirt for me?" (yes he used my real name and it was even more humiliating because he threatened to send it to people I know and then they'd "know" I made "porn"). There were other scenarios like this but I just don't want to get into it I'm scared more memories will come that I am not ready for. He taunted me with telling me he put it online to sell and thousands of people saw me. "People are going to recognize you" "Nobody will want you now, for sure."
Did he really do those things? I don't know... He got something from it all. Whatever that was. The feeling of power and control. Living out his fantasies on me to show everyone. Or just re watch later. And I hated myself. I was sure if he didn't kill me, I would.
I lost some of my memory around this time. Chunks gone because I guess I would rather not remember (I wish I could forget those initial attacks, though. That'd be pretty dope). Things my mom and grandma and cousins told me about recently that I have no memories of. Not sure yet what that means, or what all I don't remember. That really has me chilled to my bone. I'm still scared of the memories coming back someday.
Anyways, I ended up losing most of my jobs around this time because I was a "no call, no show" and that was another tally on my worthlessness chart. I felt so fucking low. I remember lying in bed in the silence for hours, days. Just laying there staring into space. If it became too lonely, I would invite a friend or go sleep on my friends (DJ) couch. I actually only could sleep there. On his couch. In his basement bedroom in the dark, watching Kenan & Kel. I would forget where I was sometimes and wake up in a panic but this was the only place I could really sleep. Especially if my friend fell asleep on the couch with me. Even though he ended up not being the most gentle person, some of these memories in this basement are still some of my favorite...
I was broken. Ruined friendships. Close ones I had with people who meant a lot to me (K). I was just so out of it! I don't even remember how we fell apart completely. I just feel like one day we stopped talking
I felt completely hopeless, trying to survive one moment to the next. For some reason my friend who was deployed (DS) still continued to email me around this time. He was one of the only people who truly saw me for me and made me feel like I was worth positive attention. When he would bring up more serious topics or try to get to know me on a deeper level though, I would pull away. I couldn't let him in. I didn't really think it could possibly go anywhere. He was so much better than me. I just figured he was lonely. Which I was too, and we could just talk through our sadness. So we did. I didn't open up to him about anything I was going through though. He could tell I would pull away a lot. He told me his last relationship was with someone who was in an abusive marriage prior to their relationship, and she pulled away from him completely. He didn't want me to feel like I needed to do that. He really liked me for some reason. So I only opened up a tiny bit telling him I was still healing from trauma I had experienced and I didn't want to talk about it. I was extremely ashamed and never wanted him to know. He made me feel better about living at the moment though. He respected my space amazingly. Even through our emails. He just brought this up the other day too "when we emailed, sometimes it was just one small sentence emails." Non-intrusive, just talking about random things. He was very persistent with keeping in touch though, which we usually did through email and sometimes the occasional phone call. It took me a while to allow that. He wanted to video chat, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. I didn't like the idea of it. Looking back, I wonder if any part of him wondered if I was catfishing him. It was easy to get away with not talking to him for extended periods of time because he was across the world and almost 12 hours difference. This gave me the space I felt I needed to keep my baggage to myself. That was comforting for me in so many ways. I didn't feel like I could truly get close to anyone.
I know my grandma thought I was having health issues and probably drug problems too. She really wanted me to get help, but I just didn't know what to do. She tried to help me as much as she could though. Took me to the hospital when I needed it, and took me to get any medicine I needed. I wasn't on hard drugs consistently though, myself. Only drug I managed to do on my own consistently was pot. Anything harder would kind of take me back to that feeling of being out of control of myself and I didn't like being taken back to that feeling unless I had to be.
My friend in the military (DS) really wanted to meet me when he came home to visit family after his deployment, so he asked if he could when he comes home. That's when I panicked and stopped talking to him for a short amount of time. I just didn't know what to say to him. I was so ashamed. I didn't know what to expect or what he expected and I panicked. It was debilitating.
So I spent my time working and trying everything to not be alone. I was always with a male friend (DJ) if I was out of the house, and he made me feel safer I guess. It got to the point where I didn't even drive anymore unless I had to. I always had someone take me places. I was fucking paralyzed with fear of being killed when my guard was down. Like I said before, I would sleep on this male friends cozy basement couch or even invite him to stay over just for company. I just wanted to feel safe sometimes. We were friends. We just smoked, sometimes a beer or two, watched nostalgic tv or listened to music.
I do remember one instance he told me he was being harassed by a fake account on facebook. I was never able to physically see the account before it was deleted and he never showed me the message, but he told me whoever threatened him had told him to stop touching their "b*tch". He said I was the only person he was hanging out with at the time and I guess I could believe it because we hung out a lot if he wasn't working around then. Plus I had a likely culprit... He seemed mad at ME because of the messages. "You need to tell whoever this is to stop. I don't like this weird shit." Yea, me neither... "Is it N?" and I told him no, so he just kept asking me who it was. Maybe he felt threatened, I don't know. I told him I didn't know who it was, but he wouldn't stop talking to me about it. So I stupidly thought being somewhat honest with him would help. I told him I was attacked in my past. To which, of course, he didn't believe it. "A lot of girls say they are raped..." I remember feeling so numb to that. He didn't know or ask anything and already dismissed it. Another reason to never open up... Why is it so hard to accept these things happen? Or is it just men who rape stick together and give each other the benefit of the doubt and blame the women?
I wasn't being sexually active much back then at this specific time because I just felt burnt out, but I could tell DJ was getting to that point of wanting to even though we were just friends. He would sneak into my house sometimes and just get in bed with me and kiss my face until I woke up which I found confusing. No idea if he did more than that ever or anything. There was one instance at his house when he started kissing me. I kept telling him I didn't want to have sex that night (we didn't have sex yet but we had made out before). But he kept touching me, making me say "stop, not tonight. Don't." He took what he wanted anyways.
I just gave in and accepted it after this though. I didn't care anymore. We started having regular, wild sex. Did I want to? Not really, ever. I thought it was what I wanted sometimes. (But it really was just a way to self harm and I guess feel like someone wanted to spend time with me) I just didn't want to be alone. He seemed to really like it. So the more he liked, the more I wasn't alone. But he would do other things I didn't appreciate. Most of the time I didn't even say anything because I just didn't care about myself. I was just a vessel to be used each and every way. So I did whatever whenever which I am sure he just loved. There was another time he was inside me and I started doing kegels on him because I just wanted it to be over with, we were going at it for a while; he told me to stop because he didn't want to cum “yet” and I kept doing it anyways because I wanted to stop having sex... And I did it until he finished and I remember him looking at me confused. Since this I have kind of thought bad things about myself... See, he was nice most of the time and we had good times together too; but he was a sleaze bag. He wanted what he wanted when he wanted it. I guess my initial memories of him weren't very comfortable either. In high school he would grab me from behind all the time where my butt cheeks would be on his di*k. Or he would pick me up after hugging me from behind. I just find that invasive...it always did make me uncomfortable. The last time he ever did this to me was in front of the teacher who raped me oddly enough and he yelled at him telling him to "never do that again" DJ looked shocked for being called out and we just laughed it off and I teased DJ "yea, stay off of me!"
He would also act out a little controlling as well while we were hanging out. He said some things during sex and wanted me to repeat things I didn't feel comfortable with. For example "tell me this is my pu**y". I remember specifically saying "no?" He also would randomly say "I love you" "you know, not love love, just love. You can say it back..." I was like "No...that's ok." He never said it again. He would also take my phone and put it away from me and if I received an alert he would read them first before handing it to me. Right in front of me. I think he noticed I was emailing DS (they were friends in High School) and I don't want to say he was jealous but he definitely seemed off about it. He would say things like "fuck him (DS)." So I stopped talking to him. I didn't want to be controlled by another person.