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  1. GRAPHIC After high school, I'd seen him several times in random places. I felt watched. I thought I was paranoid and felt like I must be out of my mind- so I started avoiding going out altogether to avoid feeling crazy. N got an apartment and I moved in with him. I never left the house. Took online college courses. I felt safe there because it was a basement apartment and I felt shut off and hidden from the world, which I liked (and still do sometimes!) I became very reclusive. I never left the house alone. Always looking behind me. Basically, I couldn't bare leaving the house in gener
  2. I give into DR's guilt tripping and making me feel "obligated" to him. He told me basically because I aborted his baby that he considers me obligated to help him forever basically- and for some reason I actually took/take that serious. So I let him take over me in some ways just like he did before. It was so easy to let it happen and it was so easy for him to do it again. Recently I visited a friend in Indiana. Since my travels were documented some on Snap, he saw that and seemed kind of let down that I didn't ask him to come with me. Friday evening he messaged me and I think he was drunk beca
  3. I wrote this journal entry to share with my therapist-an organized version of the fuckery I have gotten myself into. There are plenty of details that are explicit and raw, I tend not to hold back much. I don't know what finally came over me... Months ago I had a dream about DR and he was holding a newborn baby on his bare chest and he seemed so happy and content. It all really started there with the strong urges to talk to him coming back- I've felt them over the last nine/ten years but not as strong as it's been lately. Not only that but he had this one song as his ringtone back i
  4. GRAPHIC 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. It was 2012 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 and on edge. He had insinuated that he was going to make me do things with him again. So
  5. GRAPHIC I have decided to write about the individual experiences I have had with other questionable situations I was in. Some of these things have really been bothering me and I hope giving them an actual written outlet besides a snippet of "oh, this happened too but it's not a big deal" because it is really bothering me lately. I think it had been overshadowed by my more violent trauma. My head is spinning with self blame, shame, grief. I just wish I could have realized things and spoke up for myself more. Some of these things I wrote a little about in previous entries but I just
  6. “I love you,” you said to me that night, You love me, I told myself when I woke in the morning. You seem certain about this. It seems there isn’t much you know though. You don’t know that I scrubbed my skin until it turned red and broke I felt unpure. Don’t know I couldn’t sleep, I still can’t. One eye open because I am scared. Things you do know terrify me. You know where I stay, where I sleep. You know I have a beauty mark under my left breast. I shouldn’t have to worry about you knowing too much. That isn’t love. So
  7. REALLY GRAPHIC It has been a long few weeks of intrusive, random memories coming back to me that I for some reason never put a lot of thought into back then or blocked from my mind for whatever reason. Plus the pieces of memories I have that don't have a beginning or an end to their story and it only makes it more confusing and uncomfortable. Just need to jot them down as I remember to make sense of my thoughts so it doesn't become too hectic in my head I remember inappropriate things he did as a teacher in high school: -Talking about how he had a large di*k (wtf. everyon
  8. Hi everyone, I did read the rules, though I’m still unsure of what I can really say. Apologies in advance if I do anything wrong. Last week I was raped. I’m not ready to go into specific details, but I am having a really hard time and I don’t know anyone that has been assaulted so I’m really struggling. I’m safe now and at home. I sort of know the person who raped me, we had seen each other around campus. I accepted a ride because it was cold out, and that’s where things went wrong. I chose not to go to the hospital and I haven’t told anyone. I’m still in a lot of pain physicall
  9. Before everything happened with him, I never truly understood how victims minds worked. It’s a weird thing really. My friend told me about how she had been sexually assaulted at a young age. I always wondered why she didn’t just tell her dad. Or, when I watched tv why a victim would just let their abuser get away with what they did. Of course I sympathized with them, but I could never truly understand. Sometimes I wish I couldn’t truly understand. A lot of times really. I wish I didn’t know what it was like to not be able to tell your parents because you aren’t sure how they would react.
  10. Also posted in Share Your Story: Installment Two: The Party I am now fast-forwarding, (or rewinding, depending on how old I was in your minds upon completing reading of the first installment) to when I was seventeen years old as I bring to you all, installment 2 of my story. This is the full, uncensored version of what was shared back in 2007. One would think that as time goes on, you’re likely to forget some details. While that may be the case for some, I WISH that was true for me. Time has gone on, but in some ways, remained stationary – frozen, almost
  11. I have been talking to my long distance ex that is my BF again…but there’s this wall. Every time I want to knock it down…every time we talk about something sexual that makes me think back to what’s been done to me…thinking about it now makes me want to vomit… he said something the other day that we were talking about and it has had me triggered since. he helped a girl by giving her a ride home, that was drunk and alone left by her bf at his place of work, crying without a ride or phone in the parking lot. He’s a good guy and he gave her a ride home. But he half making a joke but also
  12. GRAPHIC When I was 15, I missed my bus. I had to go into school again because I didn't have minutes left on my phone to call my mom. As I was walking in, he was walking out of the commons building doors on campus and he asked me why I was going back to school, shouldn’t I be leaving. I said I had missed the bus. He touched me on my arm to stop me from walking and said “I can take you home and you’ll be there before your bus?” I initially denied but he said he insisted. He said they would most likely ask a teacher to take me home anyways and I thought that wasn’t entirely right but I kn
  13. GRAPHIC For eight months total, DS still kept talking to me here and there, never giving up. Asking again if he could see me when he came home for military leave. This stressed me out so much because as much as I liked him, I was too ashamed to meet him in person. I didn't want him to see me. Or know me, for real. I didn't want to be taken advantage of again. Or him regret meeting me. Worse, I didn't want him to like me still for some reason and I end up ruining his life in one of the millions of ways I thought possible already. He must have told his father about me (!) because his dad
  14. GRAPHIC In 2011, I was not with N anymore. We were still friends and had hung out a few times. Probably slept together one or a few of those times because I didn't care about me. I was working a lot. Sometimes two jobs, double shifts. Trying to stay busy. At this point, I was living in my grandmas house again. I had a lot of alone time since they were not home for chunks of time. My grandma worked a lot and her husband worked for an airline. They also traveled a bit. I liked the privacy and the solace though. Until the second rape. As unreal as it still feels to think about and type. F
  15. GRAPHIC MARCH 30, 2009 It was a dreary day. End of March my senior year. I decided I wanted to skip my morning classes this day because my boyfriend wasn't coming that morning anyways. We had our own building on this high school campus for this college program I was a part of. It was on the corner of campus, but sort of isolated from the other buildings, of course. I smoked some weed across the street where everyone smoked cigs before school. I was alone though. I remember walking around outside, calling N and he didn't answer. I wanted to skip that morning and go see him but instead
  16. He paralyzed me for years thinking nobody could ever believe anything that happened to me. I was a "nobody, unreliable, junkie, liar." I buried everything because I know people wouldn't want to hear these things. Wouldn't want to believe these things can happen. I usually feel so detached from it all I try to believe it didn't happen. Anyways- When I was 15, I was in this program where we could take college courses in high school. The professors would actually come from the college to our campus for our classes, and I thought that was pretty legit. We had our own small building on this
  17. 🤢 These situations are the first ones I can remember where my personal space began being invaded. Before the actual sexual touching these things stand out as I guess what I would consider "grooming" even though I never considered myself "groomed" by him because he was never really nice to me, he just intimidated me. I had asked a question one time close to the end of class but he ended up fucking around until the bell went off. After class I just stayed in my seat. He went to do something on the other side of the room where his writing desk and filing cabinets were. Everyone wa
  18. GRAPHIC This specific incident was the second isolated, physical encounter I had with the person who abused me. He had done other sexual things like touching my breasts on "accident" and touching my butt in a very sexual way where he also grabbed my private part; my initial thought when he did that was he had to have slipped and touched me more than he wanted to or something. I just tried to rationalize it any way that I could honestly. I also didn't give these other situations much thought. I didn't even realize what abusive situations consisted of until recently. It feels bizarre.
  19. I saw a post on After Silence called "Description of Consent" and there were tons of examples of what isn't considered consensual. Well, when I read the list, a few things stuck out to me. And I realized my initial sexual encounter with an old friend DR was rape. And another sexual encounter I had was also not as consensual as I thought. I know I didn't want to have sex with the one guy that night, and I didn't want to do the oral part with the other, but because I had some alcohol and drugs, I think I maybe froze quicker? I said I didn't want to, but they just did what they wanted anyways.
  20. My husband is amazing. But recently he read my very personal, private journal without my permission. Needless to say he is now traumatized and even though he is a veteran who has his own traumas, this is what has sent him into therapy. I feel so much shame and guilt. One thing that has come up is the fact that the one thing he knew about me in high school was that "I would have sex at school in the parking lot". I never ever would do anything like that. I was a virgin until 3 months before I was raped. I had absolutely no experience. I was, however, raped in that parking lot. And that has
  21. Between hushed pants and ‘I love you’s’ I laid silent. How could someone who claimed to love me so much do this to me? The ceiling is to keep one closed in and safe, So why when I looked at the ceiling was I in danger Through rhythms that repeated, I prayed for it to be over. “It only lasts A few minutes” I told myself I reassured myself I’d keep you forever this way No matter how many times I let you do it despite it ruining my sanity, You left. It happened so often I twisted it in my mind and told myself that this was your way of love,
  22. Well, folks… It’s been a minute? Or two? Or…like…six months? I have returned to this blog many times over the last six months with an itch to write. To vent, to yell, scream and cry on paper/screen. But, then, I’d close it out following an exasperated, ‘never mind.’ This is typical me, though. I tend to let things build up and then to sit down and write about it all will feel like a more daunting task because by then, there’s a lot that’s piled up and I’m more likely to be saying, ‘oh, yeah, and there was also THAT time….’ I suppose the moral of that story is to NOT stop tal
  23. He was seven months old. She was the first of my childhood friends to have a baby. She had gotten married in January and he was born in April. Though she loved him dearly, she wondered what people in our closed, Conservative circle would say. But I loved her for it. Because everyone who has walked the hard paths of life in a broken Creation know sorrow. I knew it. And I knew that she knew it. She was the first of my friends to get married, and to have a baby. And she's the first of my friends to lose a baby. Ten days before Christmas. So my best frien
  24. I'm a psychology student, but until this summer I didn't know about repressed memories. I was a sophomore in college. It was the height of the COVID-19 pandemic - or at least, I hoped it was. I had been exposed and I was living in a house for two weeks with my other friends who were exposed. I was living an hour away from home - and I had never moved out before. I had to get a COVID test before I could go home to my parents and my animals. My cousin was driving me, because my anxiety was through the roof that day. I had heard that some patients who were tested got migraines afte
  25. "Blackbird singing in the dead of night, Take your broken wings and learn to fly . . . " I remember hearing that for the first time. I think it was Kel who sent it to me. I liked him, Kel. He was tall, stocky, reminded me of my dad, but my age. And I liked him as if just yesterday I was fourteen. But that makes sense, because the years between then and now are fuzzy at best. Kel had an affinity for the Beatles. Oh, when I say it that way - it sounds cute. Like Kel wasn't a megafan, like he didn't talk about them every chance he got or know every song. Kel's attract
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