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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 feel like I haven't allowed myself to really deal with them or accept them entirely as what they were. I guess I just considered them "awkward situations" instead of "sexual harassment" or uncomfortable sexual encounters instead of "sexual assault/rape". So I will just go in order of when they happened in my life: -When I was 12, I saw my first erect penis. I was in the back of math class and a student next to me said "hey, look" and he had his hard penis out! We were in the back of class, but I know a fellow student Drew saw it happen! His eyes were wide in shock. I told my mom and she was horrified. She told the school and when the principal asked me about it, I told him what happened. He said "you do know it's your word against his?" and I don't remember ever speaking about it again. - My second job was a grocery store where I met a creep, E. I immediately friend zoned him because it was obvious he wanted to have sex and he was very crude and gross about it. When he realized I was not going to sleep with him, he told everyone at work we indeed had sex AT work. Do all sleazy men have the same fantasies?? It seems likely. I am not sure anyone believed him though which was a relief. This same guy during work hours brought me a "poem" he wrote about me. It was titled "c*nt" which he then looked down at my vagina. And the "poem" was in this format: C is for c*nt U (I cannot remember what he wrote for this one) N (or this one) The calls are coming from inside your house I used to have a picture of this poem but it was like 5 phones ago E also made a horrible joke around coworkers once: he said to a friend/coworker of his as we were all stocking the toilet paper aisle "wouldn't it be hilarious if we kidnapped her and took turns with her and then just left her on the side of the road?hahahahahahahahahahaahah" The other guy just kind of looked at him in shock but laughed uncomfortably. I remember being horrified and leaving to go stock somewhere else; mainly because it was extremely triggering and also I had slept with the other guy once and it made me feel sick that maybe they were talking about it behind my back or something and E was mad I didn't sleep with him. I don't remember the reactions of the others around or if they even heard what transpired. I remember feeling like I was nothing at all. People weren't seeing "me". They were seeing something they hated and wanted to dominate and take advantage of. I didn't understand why this is how people wanted to treat me! -I knew a guy from school (not high school, but we had a lot of mutual friends in high school) we ended up meeting up for a mutual understanding of a one night stand basically. I will call him Nate. While we were hanging, he got a phone call from a friend, of course being DJ (we weren't really friends at the time, hadn't talked to him since high school) and I cringed when Nate told DJ we were hanging out. I had friend zoned DJ since the beginning of us knowing each other so he asked "samantha who?" and then Nate fucking told him it was me and we exchanged the cringiest of hellos 🙄 Anyways, this guy and I just drank, smoked, watched a movie. We both started taking our clothes off at the same time, this was what we were getting together for. We had sex that first time. I can't remember if it was before or after sex that he asked me if I had "ever been pissed on." I, of course, looked at him concerned and said "no, I wouldn't want that." So we left it at that. We continued watching that movie "Superbad" and then he asked "will you get a shower with me?" I kind of wanted to wash the sweat off anyways so I agreed. We ended up showering and having sex again, which was also fine. Thinking about this now though, I wonder if he pissed on me in the shower? Why else ask me if I was ever pissed on?? I just kind of had this epiphany not long ago Also, after the shower we went and laid down in bed and continued watching tv. He kept putting his hard penis on me and eventually asked me to give him oral, I didn't want to. Mainly because he had a large penis and I really didn't feel comfortable. Well, he kept pushing my head down and telling me "just put your mouth on it" "come on, just put it in your mouth" and I guess I gave in and did what he wanted, but made it clear I didn't want him to finish in my mouth. He ended up finishing in my mouth! I fucking jumped up and ran to the bathroom to the sink... What a fucking asshole. I felt so betrayed. Then I thought I was stupid , what did I even expect. Blamed myself for being in that situation. I didn't have my car so I felt trapped there. So I laid down and we went to sleep, kind of. Through the night he kept touching me and putting himself on me, but I pretended to be asleep hoping he wouldn't go any further. The next morning, he took me home. I was so relieved. When he asked me to get together with him again I think I made it clear when I told him I was on my period. Took a hiatus from sex for a minute after this also. -When I look back on my friendship with DJ, I feel foolish. I mean, I should have known he was going to want sex from me. I am a fool! But we were friends. He would get me weed when I wanted it. He would also get my favorite beer on the way to his house all the time. I felt safer with him than when I was alone. We did not start out having sex. Just hanging out and listening to music. I guess maybe that was what made me think I was ok from the sex part. But he started showing more signs of wanting to. I should have stopped hanging out with him then, but I didn't want to be alone We had made out once. We were both tired, so it didn't really go anywhere. Another time I was on my period and he wanted to have sex, so I told him I was on my period. He kept trying to convince me to take my tampon out. Which I wouldn't... I guess it just kept progressing and I was stupid to think he wouldn't expect it eventually. He had done other things that should have been obvious red flags; like sneaking into my house and getting into bed with me and things like that but I never took it serious I guess We were listening to ADHD by Kendrick Lamar; I will never not remember this night And this song, the smell, the feel, everything...we were kind of drunk and had smoked some weed. He started kissing me and we were making out. He kept trying to take my clothes off and I told him I didn't want to have sex.. I didn’t want his penis in me. He was large.. it was triggering, so I thought. I said "Stop, I don't want to. Not tonight DJ. Wait." He kept saying "Please? Come on." "No..." I pushed his hands away, I tried everything I could think in that moment. He wasn't violent or loud. Just very coercive. He was pulling my underwear and shorts to the side saying "Just let me finger you at least" and he just started to do it. I remember tensing, he thought I liked it because of that. So he continued doing more and pulling at my shorts and underwear until they were off. He was opening a condom and then he started doing what he wanted. I just laid there. I felt defeated. I said I wanted to get on my stomach and he let me. I was just glad to not have to see him doing it anymore. Then I liked it...I asked if I could shower. So I did, which he ended up bombarding me in there to shower too. We fell asleep on that couch together after this. I went back for his company over and over again. Knowing he wanted to have sex. I never really did want to at first but my morbid curiosity led me to it. it was better than being alone I guess. Or being vulnerable to even worse situations. Mostly. He did other uncomfortable things. Things I went along with because I didn't know how to say "no". He recorded me on his phone once while I was giving him oral. It was triggering, but I didn't even say anything! There were times we would be watching tv and he would be touching me and out of nowhere he would just stand in front of me on the couch, pull his penis out and put it in my face and just tell me to "suck it". I just did whatever. And I found that I kind of liked it. I couldn’t get enough of him and the bossing around and things but he started getting too odd and controlling. There was a time he didn't use a condom and I only found out because we changed positions. I felt betrayed and horrified. I wanted to stop, so he agreed to use a condom. But this wasn't the last time he tried to trick me! I found out another time he didn't use a condom as I was changing positions and it was right at the moment he was pulling me down onto him and he said "ride me". It was like I had a switch that just turned off when he said that because I just did what he told me to do. I told him to tell me when he was almost there so I could get up, but he just grabbed my hips and finished in me. I wasn't on birth control. He knew that too! We didn't talk for a little because I was offended. Then we did talk again because I am a fool. It was around his birthday and it was the last time I saw him. This time I had my car. We were smoking and we started kissing. He pulled my shirt down and said "your boobs are bigger" and he seemed really excited by it because he started kissing them and doing things to them.I actually panicked because it crossed my mind the last time we had sex he didn't use a condom. I know he never was the kind to ever want to have kids. But his reaction made me feel weird and I wanted out. I don't even remember how far we got, if we had sex or not, I have no memory of what happened next. I just remember I left and I felt good leaving. So I ghosted him. Never answered his calls or anything after this. I was not pregnant, but that was my first official pregnancy scare that no one knows about! I don't know what I would have ever done if I were to get pregnant by him. What a terrifying fucking thought. I never allowed myself to think of the initial trauma over the last 10 years let alone thinking about these situations being wrong. I wonder if there are other women out there realizing these same things about these same people. I am sad. And mad. Honestly, heartbroken. This isolation isn't helping me with thinking about it all, almost nonstop. Kind of obsessing over it. sam 💜
I think it’s time. Let me back up a bit. First, I want to say hello to all of you and say that I hope you’re enjoying the impending holiday season! I love the holidays and I’m looking forward to my mini vacation next week. That being said, I want to let you all know that I am taking a few days away from AS. If you’re someone that I see around a lot on the boards, or talk to frequently, just know that I will return! I am leaving next week to drive to Nashville, Tennessee for a church conference. I am SO looking forward to this! I’m going to meet new people, see old friends, and enjoy a break from the normal struggles life presents. Yes, I will be away from home on Thanksgiving and I will not see my family as they are not going with me on this trip, but I really am okay with that. There’s been a lot of brokenness in my family lately and I’m looking forward to not having it rubbed in my face. Being away will let me escape the fact that things are bruised right now. I’ll be gone for 5 days but will be back by December 1st so I can participate in the Holiday Buddy Program here! If you’re a member here and you don’t know about the Holiday Buddies, you should check it out! It’s an amazing way to get and give support during the holiday season. You can find the information as a pinned thread in the News and Updates forum. I would recommend looking into it if you’re even just the tiniest bit intrigued! You never know what kind of relationships you can make here and this is a great way to get to know someone. Now, I know you’re wondering about that first sentence up there. You’re probably thinking I’m referring to Thanksgiving, or my trip, or Holiday Buddies. None of those are what I’m referring to. I think it’s time for me to share my story here. I’ve shared fragments of my childhood assault, but I have yet to share the story of my rape. I posted it a couple of months after I joined this site, but I immediately had it hidden because I was too ashamed and afraid. I felt too exposed and I wasn’t ready for the opinions or backlash that I was sure I would receive. I feel like I am in a different place now than I was when I posted it the first time. I’ve done quite a bit of healing and I know my truth now. The self-doubt is fading little by little and the self-blame is slowly dissipating. I’m not saying that I am fully okay with what happened and that I will never struggle to think this was my fault again, but I am saying that I know my truth for myself now. I know this was rape and I know better than anyone else how it made me feel. I’ve dealt with the aftereffects of the trauma, I’ve lasted the nights with the nightmares and flashbacks. I’ve sat through EMDR sessions that I couldn’t handle because the pain was just too much. I know I was hurt and I know what he did was not okay. Because I’ve come to terms with this now, I can share my story in hopes that I gain more power over it. In hopes that in some way, this might help someone else. Before I get started, I want to issue a trigger warning here. I am not planning on holding anything back. I want to tell this story as my truth and I want it to be told the way I want. This happened to me, and I want the freedom to tell it as I would like. So, PLEASE don’t read ahead if you’re feeling sensitive. There are very graphic depictions of rape and sexual trauma. Take care. This story begins when I was 21 years old. I am 22 now. It’s been 1 year, 5 months, and 5 days since I was raped. I was very naïve and I never thought something like this would happen to me. I had just turned 21 three months prior to this and had just started going to bars. It started off simple. I would meet up with an old co-worker after work and we would have a couple drinks, then I would go home. Alcohol was new to me and I wanted to know more about it. I tried several drinks during my first few visits to this bar. I always went to the same bar with the same person. I drank quite a bit on these nights but never felt much from the alcohol. Turns out, I’m not a lightweight! One Friday night, I had several people cancel plans on me. I wanted to go for drinks, but I had no one to go with. I was frustrated and mad and I decide that I didn’t need anyone to go with me – I would go alone. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal. I had been here many times before and I wasn’t going to drink a lot. During some of my previous excursions to the bar, I would make sure I was prepared for sex. Just in case I met someone that I wanted to have fun with. I never ended up having sex with anyone I met in the bar. While it was something I anticipated, it never happened. On the nights I thought there was a possibility of it happening, I would make sure I was freshly showered, shaved, and my bra and panties matched. I would wear something a little revealing and I would put myself out there. This night was not one of those nights. I remember that I didn’t shower again after work, I remember than I hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. I remember that I didn’t care what bra and panties I wore, I actually had on a sports bra, and I didn’t put on anything revealing. I told myself that I did not want to have sex that night. I wanted to have a few drinks to take the edge off, and go home. I wasn’t even in the mood for conversation. I made my way to the bar, ordered a drink, and lit a cigarette. I was content with being alone. I stared blankly at the wall or the TV. I made a couple of casual remarks to other people there. But above all, I wanted solitude. There was a man sitting to my left. He kept trying to talk to me, but I politely gave him one-word answers and directed my attention elsewhere. I did not want to speak to him. He continued to push. I relented and figured some conversation wouldn’t hurt and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He was older than me. I would guess maybe late 40s or so. He had greyish hair that was all messy and out of place. He had quite a bit of a beer gut, but he was not obese. He looked as if he had just rolled out of bed. I think he was wearing sweats and a sweatshirt or something similar to that even though it was the middle of June and not cold outside. For the sake of the story, we will call him Clay. Clay was annoying, but he was also nice. He was drinking beer most of the time and decided he wanted a shot of fireball because he loves it. He asked if I wanted a shot and I declined. Not only had I never taken a shot before, I had also never tried fireball and I wasn’t sure if I would like it. After this, he continued to drink his beer and push conversation on me. I don’t remember anything we talked about aside from the alcohol. He would ask what I was drinking, and he would tell me what he liked and didn’t like. I was VERY careful to always finish my drinks before going to the restroom. I had read about people being drugged and I didn’t want that to happen. Although Clay seemed harmless, I wasn’t taking any chances. After about my 3rd or 4th drink, Clay offers me a shot again. I take it. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe because I already had some alcohol in my system, or maybe because I really like fireball, I don’t know. I can say that I’ve not had fireball since this night. Before he ordered the shot, I told him I would take it and then I was going to have a beer and be done. I didn’t feel drunk, just a little tipsy. He ordered our shots, we took them, and I went to the bathroom. When I was coming out of the bathroom, I remember hearing the bartender ask Clay if I said I wanted a beer. He was double checking, I guess. I made my way back to my seat and the beer was there. I drank it and at this point, was feeling a little drunk. Not wasted, but drunk enough. Clay decided we would have one more beer. I told him no, but he ordered it anyway. This is where my memory gets fuzzy and I only remember fragments. I remember him ordering the beer and the female bartender going to get them. Right after this, a male bartender comes over and asks if we need anything. Clay tells him that we ordered 2 Corona’s but we thought maybe she forgot because it was taking a while. The male bartender goes to get us one right as the female bartender brings over the ones we ordered from her. The male bartender decides he’s going to stick the others in the freezer to keep them cold and we would drink those too. I felt bad because Clay was buying these and I knew I HAD to drink them. I didn’t want to waste his money. Somewhere between my second and third beer, I quit remembering to finish my drink before going to the bathroom. I left my drink unattended at least once that I remember for sure. I remember coming back from the bathroom and Clay was talking to another guy. We’ll call him Adam. Clay and I had been taking turns going to the bathroom so the other person would watch our seat. I came back and Adam was in my seat. He got up and let me have my seat back, likely because I was getting a little unsteady on my feet. I don’t know this for sure, but it seemed like Clay and Adam knew each other. I remember Clay introducing me to Adam and I don’t know if they had just met or if they knew each other. Adam was by himself – he didn’t come with friends or anything and neither did Clay. I remember that now, it was loud. There were suddenly so many people in the bar and I didn’t remember any of them coming in before I went to the bathroom. Adam was 23 and was wearing the ugliest pastel yellow polo I’d ever seen. His hair was black and curly, but still messy. He had some facial hair, but not a lot. He was slim and kind of tall and he had just ordered his first beer. Clay says he needs to go to the bathroom and I tell him I will watch his seat. At this point, I can barely keep my eyes open, I’m swaying, the room is spinning, and I know I’m not okay. Adam sits in Clay’s seat and starts talking to me. I remember giving him my phone number. Then I remember that he kept running his hand up my thigh under my skirt. I had my hand under my head holding myself up on the bar. I felt really off. I couldn’t hear anything or see anything. It was all really fuzzy. Clay came back and I remember him saying something about wanting his seat back, and then he left. But he kept his eye on me from a distance. He never wandered off too far. The next thing I remember is ordering water. I knew I needed to sober up so I could drive home. After I got my water, Adam took it from me and said, “don’t drink water, it makes you more drunk,” and I knew this wasn’t true. I ALWAYS drink water to sober up. I listened to him anyway and stopped drinking the water. I remember sitting there a little longer and he asked if I wanted to leave. I think I said yes. I’m going to pause to insert my thoughts here, then I will continue with what happened. This is where I feel like it’s possible that I was drugged. I was so out of it and yes, I had a lot of alcohol, but I’ve been super drunk before and this is not how it felt. It was different and I know I was leaving drinks unattended. I also think it’s possible that this was planned. Not toward me specifically, but in general. It seemed like Clay and Adam knew each other and Adam didn’t show up until after I was already pretty gone. Clay was too quick to leave after I met Adam and he seemed to linger after Adam started talking to me. I’m thinking it’s possible that Clay put drugs in my drink, and then Adam sweeps in to take me home. I don’t know any of this for sure, but this is stuff I have thought about since the rape and these are things I think could have happened. Or, it could all be coincidence and I’m making it into something that it’s not. I really don’t know. Anyway, back to the story. I remember paying my tab and not being able to see the lines to sign my name. I’m not even sure I actually signed my name. I remember trying, but everything was spinning and I couldn’t see straight. We got up to leave and I couldn’t stand. Adam had his arm around me and basically carried me out. My eyes were mostly closed and my body felt really heavy. We made it outside and he took me to his car, put me inside, and then went to my car to get my phone charger. I was texting a friend through Snapchat – it was the friend I usually go to that bar with – and he said he was coming to get me. I told him no. He was almost an hour away. I don’t remember how I convinced him not to come, but he never came. Adam drove me to his house. The entire time I was in the car, I was falling over onto his shoulder. I just couldn’t hold myself up. I think he thought I was doing this in a flirty or loving way, but I was just so tired and my body felt so heavy. We made it to his house. He came around to my side and got me out of the car. I still couldn’t walk and I was stumbling across the lawn. He carried me inside and took me down the hall to his bedroom. I immediately fell onto the bed. I just wanted to rest. I physically couldn’t hold myself up any longer. He plugged my phone up to the charger and then tells me that he needs me to get up. I stand up and he pushes the mattress back on the bed – I guess it was falling off. It seemed like something he was used to doing. His room was messy. I remember navy blue sheets on the bed. I remember the room was small and there wasn’t very much room to move around. His nightstand was covered with empty water bottles, a bong, and other things that I didn’t take special note of in my head. I think the wall opposite the bed was like a bookshelf. Maybe it had books, but I think it was filled with video games, DVDs, and other things like that. At the foot of the bed was a television on a TV stand and all kinds of clutter around it. I remember there being clothes on the floor that he tossed aside and I think there was a window by the bed. It wasn’t very appealing. After he fixed the bed, I asked for the bathroom. I walked down the narrow hallway, made a left, and found the toilet. I pulled my skirt down and sat down. I almost missed because I was still so out of it. I held on to the counter and somehow managed to not fall over. I have no idea how long I was in there. Time seemed to stand still and everything was moving in slow motion. I made it back to the room and he was laying in the bed. He had no shoes on, but was still fully dressed in his jeans and ugly yellow polo. I fell onto the bed beside him and started drifting. After what seemed like a few moments, I had to go to the bathroom again, only this time, it wasn’t to go pee. I made it to the bathroom and knelt at the toilet. I proceeded to throw up bright red while swaying and holding my entire head into the toilet. I got up, rinsed my mouth, and stumbled back to the room. He asked if I was okay and I honestly don’t remember if I answered. I was feeling better having thrown up which is another reason I think I could have been drugged. Being drunk and throwing up has never made me feel more sober. It doesn’t change the blood alcohol level, but I’m thinking throwing up if it were drugs would make me feel better, but again, I don’t know. This is just speculation. I laid back down on the bed wishing for sleep. I had my head on his chest and he had wrapped his arm around me. He was watching New Girl on Netflix. I had kind of fallen asleep at this point. I was in and out of consciousness but never fully gone because I knew I had to get home. I remember resting my hand on his abdomen – maybe just to steady myself. The next thing I remember is him lifting up his shirt and unbuckling his belt. I was just catching glimpses because I was still not fully conscious. I think he was asking me questions. Maybe he was asking if I wanted to have sex or maybe I was asking if he wanted to. I don’t remember. A lot of my thoughts I can’t remember if I said aloud or just in my head. The voice in my head was so loud that I don’t know what was verbalized. He proceeds to unbutton his pants and expose himself. He guides my head onto himself and makes me give him oral. I didn’t fight him off, I never said no, but I was also not fully aware or conscious. I also knew that I wanted to go home and to do so, I had to have sex with him. Even in the state I was in, I knew that I wasn’t getting out of that house without giving him what he wanted. The oral seemed quick maybe because had me stop because I wasn’t doing a good job. I was still drifting and I wasn’t aware of what I was doing so I’m sure it wasn’t good for him. He removes himself from my mouth and gets up. I remember losing my shirt and bra at this point. I was on autopilot – survival mode. I was doing what I had to do so I could get home and sleep. I was tired, I didn’t want to be there, and I wanted this to be over. I laid back down on the bed and closed my eyes. I don’t know how much time passed but when I opened my eyes, I looked to my right and he had completely undressed and was standing there looking at me, fully erect with a condom on. I will never forget this image. The picture of him standing there naked, staring at me with a grin on his face. He makes his way back over to me and gets on the bed in front of me on his knees. I closed my eyes and drifted. I remember my legs being in the air and resting on his shoulders. I don’t think I had shoes on, but I don’t remember taking them off. I don’t even remember what shoes I had on that night. He didn’t bother to undress me the rest of the way. He was seemingly uninterested in my breasts or seeing my naked body. It was like he just wanted somewhere to stick his penis so he could feel some pleasure that wasn’t done by his own hands. To my memory, he never made comments about my breast size or the tattoo on my ribs. He never made mention of the way I looked while he raped me. The lights were still on and there were no blankets or pillows around. He pushed my skirt up to my waist, lifted my bottom off the bed, pushed my panties to the side, and inserted himself. I felt nothing. No pain, no pleasure, just the feeling of something happening. I could feel him inside, but I was numb. I was frozen and I wanted it to stop. He leans over me while my legs are still on his shoulders. His face is right in front of mine and I can feel his heavy breath on my face. I could hear the way he panted like a dog on a hot summer day. I don’t remember how rapidly he moved in and out of me. It seemed like it was in slow motion, but his breath made it out to be like he was going fast and hard. He moved his head down onto my shoulder, so his face was right next to mine. I wasn’t in pain from my legs being pulled so close to my face or from him ramming himself inside me. I was still numb from the alcohol or dugs or maybe just from fear. I remember staring at the ceiling while my body moved up and down and wishing it would stop. I wanted to go home. I never wanted to have sex that night. I remember making it a point in my mind before leaving my house that night. I actually told myself that I was NOT looking for any sexual activity. Yet, here I was. He stops. His penis is still inside me as he lifts his head and looks at my face. I don’t know what he saw in my eyes. I don’t know if he saw pain or fear or even a blank stare. I was completely frozen. I was breathing hard but not from physical exertion – I was panicking. He removes himself from inside me, takes my legs off his shoulders, and strokes himself. My legs are folded and tossed to my side, my underwear is still out of place, and I’m frozen on the bed. Stuck. I can’t move. He moves to my left and gets next to me on the bed while continuing to rub his penis with his hand. I thought it was over. I close my eyes and try to catch my breath and calm myself down. I look to my left and he’s looking at me, smiling. I start to get up and me moves my hips to where I’m straddling him. He puts me down on his still erect organ and moves my hips up and down. I do as he showed me. I want him to finish so I can go. After a few minutes of me moving up and down on him, he says, “I’m not going to cum again,” and stops me. He lifts my hips to remove himself from me again and tosses me to his left toward the wall. He gets off the bed and I start to get dressed. I’m still on autopilot. I find my bra and my shirt. By the time I have my shirt on, I look over and he’s fully dressed again in that hideous yellow polo, sitting in a chair, and watching television like nothing happened. He no longer cared to help me with anything. Before the rape, he helped me walk, carried my phone and made sure it was charging because I was worried about my dying battery. He would touch me in a seemingly careful way like he actually respected me or cared about me. Now, he wasn’t even looking at me. He was silent. As I fixed my hair, I asked for some water. I still didn’t feel well. He grabs a mostly empty bottle of water from his nightstand and offers it to me. I tell him I don’t want it anymore. He sets it down and goes back to watching television. When I’m done, I stand up to put my shoes on and he’s already left the room. I grab my things and follow him. We walk down the narrow hallway toward the living room. When we make it to the living room, I see his roommate sitting in there on the computer. I only saw him for a split second but in that moment, my only thought was ‘this guy just heard everything that happened and he won’t make eye contact.’ Adam let me walk out the door first and he followed. I stumbled across the lawn toward his car. I was still unable to walk straight but I was feeling more alert. I fell into his car and we drove away. I don’t really remember the drive back to the bar. I don’t know if I was still fuzzy from the alcohol/drugs, or if I was just dissociating the whole time. I never knew what dissociating was until after this, but looking back, that could be what happened. We made it back to the bar and he stopped in the middle of the street and dropped me off. He didn’t make it to the parking lot where my car was, he didn’t help me out, he didn’t even say anything. He left me in the street knowing that I was not coherent. I made my way back to my car and got inside. I knew I had to puke again but didn’t want to do it outside because there were 2 men behind my car talking. I had no choice. I opened my car door, leaned outside, and vomited on the ground. One of the guys outside came to me and asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine. He offered to give me a ride or call me an Uber but I refused. I couldn’t leave my car at the bar. He brought me a Vitamin Water that was cold and unopened. I’ve never been so grateful. I was still so thirsty from before and now my mouth tasted like vomit and I needed the drink. I told him thank you and he left. I was feeling even more sober now that I had thrown up again. I drank the water and sent a message to my therapist. At the time, I was doing online therapy and my therapist was always online in the evenings. I told her that I had sex and I was freaked out. I didn’t know that I was probably just in shock about what happened. She told me to let her know when I made it home, and she made sure I was okay to drive. I stopped at McDonald’s to get some food to help soak up the alcohol. When I made it home, I let my therapist know. It was a little after 1am at this point. She stayed up late waiting for me to get home. She said goodnight and said we would talk later. I changed clothes, ate, and cried myself to sleep. I wanted to die. It took me some time to come to terms with what happened. It took a lot of time talking to my therapist. She was the one that told me I was raped. I told her what happened and she apologized to me for not being there the night it happened. I was confused because she WAS there. She said that she thought I had consensual sex, she didn’t realize I was raped. In all fairness, I didn’t know either. I talked with her a lot about what happened and eventually had to stop seeing her because she wasn’t specialized in trauma. I sought out a trauma therapist and I see her now every week. I’ve done a lot of work on my healing since this happened. I am still struggling and I still have days where I feel ashamed and disgusted. I still have days where I feel like this was my fault and there were so many things I could’ve done differently to prevent this from happening. There are even still days that I don’t think I can call this rape. I have lived this. I have survived this. I know this was trauma, and I know I was taken advantage of. There was no piece of me that wanted to have sex with him. I’m still working on forgiving myself for what happened, but it’s getting better. To anyone that has struggled with their own story, or anyone that doubts or deals with self-blame, just know that you are not alone. I wish I could go back in time and heal this before it happened, but I can’t. So I’m looking toward my future and I’m trying my best to move on. It’s the best I can do. Thank you for your time and for reading this. As always, I appreciate you for listening to me and hearing me. I will be back soon. Until then, keep your head up and let your voice be heard. Hugs, Poppy
well, trying to do everything in my power to make things right and mend the bridges I have burnt. not sure if it is working but I guess its going to be worth the try. Since my brother took his life in march I realize just how much I miss him in my life. I find myself doing things and then random thoughts about him sneak in. I still grieve the loss of my best friend. I am saddened because my daughter doesn't get to know him and he would of loved her. she kept him drug free for 9 months. but when in the hospital my grandmother told him that he was not welcome at the hospital. we had planned on him being there for the birth of his niece. after she went off on him he went and got high. he knew he was not allowed around my daughter until he was clean and sober. I went back to Utah when she was about 2 years old and he finally got to meet her. he loved it he played with her and that is a memory I will always have. after what happened well now 3 weeks ago, the sexual assult by someone who was supposed to be my friend. I just want to lie in the corner and cry avoid anyone and everyone. I feel so alone right now and I feel like I don't deserve the support anymore because of bad choices I myself made. I cant fix it but hopefully in time can begin to mend my bridges that I burnt. I know it will never be the same but I did this to myself I must take the responsibility it was no one elses fault just me. I have come to accept this fact, but feel so alone now. I am so tired of trying and it doesn't seem to be mending anything at this point. things have to get better it cant always be bad. it killed me when I went to Utah to burry my brother. he is buried right next to Ashlie, my oldest daughter that passed when she wasfour. therefore I had to visit her grave and I didn't feel ready. its been 15 years since I lost her and buried her but the pain was so hard to deal with. the only peace I get from this is that my brother is up there watching over Ashlie and Kim and myself..