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  1. This is something I haven’t been able to write about until recently in my journal. I don’t like to think about it much. When I was 15, I missed my bus. I had to go into school again but 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 knew my mom would be super pissed at me for missing the bus to begin with. I don’t know why I would have ever gone with him like this. But I did! He told me he had to get school supplies at a store I lived near anyways. So it worked out. He made small talk the entire ride. I don't remember about what. He pulled into the parking lot of the store first and parked close to the gas station so it was not in a highly populated area. I remember being weirded out and my stomach turned because he said he would take me home before the bus got there. I didn’t know what to say. I don’t remember what I said. But I remember him saying he needed to do something first. So I said ok and then he just continued sitting there. He asked me questions. I don’t remember the first few, they were random about school and things- but it was making me uncomfortable. Then he started asking other questions..Like if I was ok with him going there first. I didn’t have time to answer before he asked if I was nervous. I said I didn’t think my mom would be happy with me being late. He said I wouldn’t be “too late” and that made me feel anxious. He asked if I had ever been kissed before and I didn’t say anything at first. My heart felt heavy. I thought in that moment he was going to try to do something to me but then I thought no that’s crazy! But I was now convinced he was definitely giving off the vibes I thought he was giving me- which I felt stupid for thinking that before. Of course he couldn’t really be a pervert right? Wrong. Then he asked if I had ever been alone with someone his age before (he was like 30), I said no. He asked me if I had ever been touched under my clothes before. I said never. He asked if he could... I was shy and said I didn’t know and I think he thought I meant it was okay. It was a truck he had so all he had to do was scoot over and he was next to me. So he went under my shirt and touched me. I remember flinching. “it’s okay just relax” He touched my breasts and that’s when I realized I liked that feeling. I got goosebumps and he commented on that. Said I must like him touching me like that. then he started unbuttoning my pants and before I knew it he put his hand in my pants and touched me. I put my hand on his outside of my pants but i froze in fear and just sat my hand on top of his. He was intimidating. I got distracted when he grabbed my hand with his other hand and moved it away. I didn’t say anything and I think he thought maybe I wanted more. All I remember is breathing fast and feeling anxious- and his whispering “it’s ok. Relax.” He kept touching me and it actually felt good after I stopped tensing- I hate that he was right about MY body. He asked me if i liked how he was touching me and I shook my head yes 😞 I think my reaction was all he needed to know... and he kept doing it. I had never been touched like that before and it was new and I think I didn’t know how else to react 😢He touched himself and I made a point not to look. He pulled himself out and said “now touch me” and I let him guide my hand to his penis and he had me touch it. I remember the warmth. The feeling of the size. He showed me how to “stroke it.” I never looked at it though, so he said “you can look at me” but it didn’t sound like he was being “nice” about it, it sounded like he was telling me what to do. He ended up letting go of my hand and said “keep going” so I did. “Squeeze the h*” 🤢 ugh I hate all of the memories because it just sounds so vulgar and traumatizing. He was still touching me and going further down... not going inside but almost. He said he wanted to show me something. He started tugging at my pants and when I realized he was trying to get them off of me (I was scared because nobody had ever seen me like that and he was just about to expose all of me) they were already coming down my thigh and he was lifting me to get them from under me. he was pulling at my left leg to get it out of my pants. He Got my leg out and my pants were hanging by my knee on my right leg. I was pulling them closer, nervous someone would see me even though they couldn’t. he separated my legs and pulled me over and down some by my hips to where I was facing him more. and he stuck his finger or fingers inside of me, it hurt and i flinched again and said "ow" He kept shoving them in and none of it felt good to me. He seemed discouraged and took his finger or fingers out. He said he couldn’t help himself, it was in his face. He told me he wanted to do more but we (we?!) couldn’t yet. He said he was going to kiss me. He then kissed me down there..I started squirming and saying it tickled and then he said “have you ever been l***ed?” I had no time to even react- he said he had a surprise and I would like this part and started putting his tongue on me. I was very embarrassed. He was doing that and I was looking around outside realizing nobody was close, looking or caring and I found comfort in that I guess in those moments He kept going and my head was spinning. But I guess he wanted me to feel good maybe priming me for more activity in the future? If I concentrate hard enough on the memory I remember my body wanting to o but I stopped myself from doing so because I was nervous and didn’t know what was going on. but he could tell it felt nice to me. He smiled at me. He said things about my body, he liked to watch me “squirm”, I was being "bad", he might have to punish me..blah blah blah 🤮 I can remember his panting and the sounds from what he was doing to me. I felt wrong but i got a high off it. He told me I was too small and he didn’t want to break me. Back then I thought he meant his body compared to mine I didn’t think he was talking about his body part ripping me apart since I just turned 15, but I think that’s what he meant. he looked like he wanted to jump on me but he didn’t. In that second though I thought my mom is going to know everything when she sees me (and honestly I think she did see something in my eyes). Especially if he does all this right now with his body part he was obviously conflicted looking back. He rubbed himself against my private. i was scared thinking he was going to put his penis inside of me but he didn’t he just rubbed it against me. I don’t think he wanted to leave evidence knowing he would hurt me and I would be horrified and he wouldn’t be able to say it didn’t happen. Because he was large 😢I hate admitting that because he used it as a weapon on me. Then he pushed my leg down told me to keep touching him. He said “put your mouth on me. S*** it.” I panicked and said I couldn't! He asked if I’ve ever made someone c** before and I said no. “Ok just keep going, faster.” So I did and he finished . I was like in shock at this point that I just watched him do this and he touched me and I touched him and he just finished in front of me. he wiped himself on something he grabbed from somewhere. He asked “did I get you” 😖 he asked if I was okay and I said “yea”.He said I shouldn’t tell anyone about what we did because they would be jealous and start rumors and my life would be ruined. The first person that came to my mind was R my friend because she seemed to really like him and I didn’t want her to hate me he ended up taking me down the street from my house and told me he wanted to finish what we started or something along those lines. I don’t remember what I said or anything at all. I just got out and started walking down the few houses to my home, stunned. I felt like I was dirty. Like I had just rolled around in a ton of oil. I remember running into the house and my mom was mad at me immediately! She asked me what was wrong and I said nothing at first. But she kept pushing me telling me she saw everyone else walk home about 20 mins ago and I wasn’t with them like usual. so I told her someone in a car asked me for directions and she seemed to notice I was a little off or something because she looked outside scared and then she ended up telling my grandma about it. I’m not sure why she was so nervous because I didn’t let on that anything was wrong, I was just late. But sometimes she could like sense things- I just didn’t think I could tell her because I knew she would have blamed me for going with him She took me to get mace to carry with me...Which I took with me to school and had to leave In the principals desk before and after school. Even though the person who was making me uncomfortable was the teacher upstairs. I blocked this one out. I remember thinking about it slightly and hating myself and feeling guilty and wrong . If I told any adult I would have felt so embarrassed and I didn’t want anyone to know about it. I did write about it in a notebook I ended up putting in the trash can outside the morning trash was coming...I was so scared my mom would find it 💔 as I am finishing up writing this in the car, dirty deeds done dirt cheap by acdc was just on and it’s uncanny- it was that teachers favorite band. One of the reasons all the students just thought he was so neat 😒 Sometimes I feel like I’ll always be reminded of him no matter what I do. hearing the lyrics I can surely see why it was his favorite band. Sometimes I think The only shit he listened to was pervy. The triggers will always be there and I think I just need to accept this was just a part of my past now I just feel sick and would like a rage room 😆
  2. This specific incident was the second isolated, physical encounter I had with the person who sexually abused me. I was staying after for math help Because I really, really needed help with it...I decided to also ask him to help with the one thing I needed help with for a project in his class since it was the end of the semester project- not ever thinking he would try anything sexual IN school while there were other students and teachers around. When I went up to his class it was so nonchalant, I only had my notebook and I left everything else in the math classroom I was getting help in initially. I just didn't think anything could turn sexual THERE. I guess I still felt safe at school. I knocked on his class door because it was closed- I am not sure if he had to unlock it to let me in or not. But when he let me in, he locked the door behind him which I watched him do in what felt like slow motion. He said something about his expensive dj equipment and musical instruments he had in his room for the school band, but I still felt anxious anyways. My assigned seat was right in front of his computer desk which was also right in front of the door of the classroom. But my desk was covered in things. I tried to stand at his computer desk but he told me to go to the empty desk..I had to stand at the desk two rows behind, which made me close to the back of the classroom. He came over, stood behind me. We had already done the car thing however long ago...I am not sure on the exact time frame of everything. Maybe one day I will be able to piece together the time frames of these actual encounters for a better understanding of the timeline. But because we had done things before, as he was walking toward me I was thinking in that moment "he is going to touch me again". I think he thought me coming there was me wanting to do more with him. He took it upon himself to take this as another opportunity I guess. He was very, very close “did you come so we can finish what we started?” 😖 And I didn't respond before he grabbed my privates again the same way he had grabbed me before, and I realized it was intentional before and now. He touched me all over. The force of his hands made me lose my balance and I put my hands on the desk in front of me. I heard him take a deep breath in and then I heard his belt and he said if someone knocked on the locked door, I would have to hide and he pointed next to us (there was a spot with desks and there was cardboard where I could hide under the desk behind that cardboard... that’s what he wanted me to do) "Hide there if someone knocks" I never really wanted to admit this especially because it makes me feel used and dirty and embarrassed... He started saying things about oral sex. I was horrified-he kept joking, making me feel like I was making a big deal out of nothing “why are you looking at me like that? I ‘ate you out’ so it's your turn.” He was impatient. Next, I remember being closer to him and facing him and he told me it was “my turn” I was being “inconsiderate” and teasing him. I told him I didn’t know how, anything to try to get him to not press me to do it. But he told me he would teach me 🤢 So he did this part for a however long I told myself as I was doing it that I would never think about it/ do it again. I hated it. I still struggle with oral sex. I don’t really know how long he made me do it but it felt like forever. He showed me how he wanted me to do it so I did it the way he showed me so I could be done. I thought this was all he wanted and I dreaded him finishing. But he didn’t. Then he put his hands on my shoulders and I stood up like a stupid mindless zombie. Then he turned me around and started groping my body again. He undid my bra and felt my breasts and then he pulled my pants and underwear down really fast and forceful and it scared me. Then he reached around me and touched me for a few seconds and all of a sudden I felt him jab his fingers in me. He was saying things about my body part and about things I had no experience with. I didn't know what he was talking about! I heard his belt clinking as he was going in and out more forceful each time and it hurt. He was guiding himself to my body part. I knew it would hurt when I felt it against me almost going in and I said “no I am not ready!!” But it wasn’t very loud and I wish I would have screamed it!! He said vulgar things about me being ready.. I guess it was my fault, my body was responding) I started pulling my pants up, he tried pulling them back down and I started crying and I was embarrassed I was crying because nobody saw me cry. When I turned around, I had my eyes closed but when I opened them I saw he was backing away and pulling his pants up. So I pulled mine up all the way and I ran to the door, unlocked it and I ran to the bathroom with my bra still undone. I felt sick and gross. I felt dirty. I thought "how did I get myself into this". I actually felt stuck in this weird secret I didn't want any part of, something I didn't know how to get out of but trying to avoid him for now on. I don't know why I was still trying to rationalize things... I think I had to do that because if I admitted how fucked up this was, I think I would have had a mental break down. Maybe I should have I remember leaving my notebook in his classroom. I didn't want to go back..I was thankful I left everything else in the math classroom. I had to go to back there to get the rest of my things and I also needed to go to my locker before leaving. I ended up having to go to the office to get my locker combination. I forgot my fucking locker combination I was so rattled about what happened. I have recurring dreams of forgetting my locker combination. I always wore my winter coat in school after this so he couldn't touch me like he did on "accident" sometimes. Handing my notebook to me and grazing my breasts... I also remember instances after this when I had gym, he would come there to "excuse" me from class to "get help" or "help" the few times he did it before I started hiding in the bathroom during those periods to avoid him doing it anymore. I managed to avoid being alone with him those times he took me though. The times I avoided being alone with him when he took me from gym class was a time I went out of my way to socialize with another teacher and ask them for help with something. Another time I told him I had to use the bathroom and I tried to walk fast away from him as soon as we were passing the bathroom and I made it in there without him coming for me. Once I realized hiding in the bathroom was a place he never came after me, I felt safe in there. It became my safe haven as dumb as that is. I went to the bathroom a lot of the time I skipped classes. It was uncomfortable sitting in a bathroom stall for some of the periods, but I would just play games on my phone lol. Then my senior year I started helping a teacher grade English papers in the main school building during those empty classes I had with my abuser where he was the monitor with us-just to avoid him Ugh, he was making me uncomfortable during almost all of my college classes! Anyways-the teacher I helped grade papers for was Mr H and he made me feel safer for the most part. He knew who made me uncomfortable and vaguely why. So I guess I felt heard and validated with him. My high school boyfriend N knew him from having him in middle school and I guess we trusted him and we opened up to him about things. See N had those same college classes with me but he stopped coming to class a lot toward the last half of senior year but he half ass made sure I felt "safe" when he wasn't there since he knew some things about the teacher that harassed me at that point. Mr H was actually the teacher I had in the office with the principal as I told the school about the rape. I couldn't really look at anyone though so I couldn't tell you if they looked horrified or what. It is kind of a blur from the shock of it all I guess I feel foolish.
  3. I wrote a first draft of this earlier in a blog I keep hidden as a mental and emotional release. I was ashamed of what happened and have felt guilty thinking I was to blame for having frozen when forced, and being much older than the guy this happened with. I had no idea what to call this. However, I think I am ready to break the silence on this. So here it goes… ____ My younger sister had just gotten married, and I was ready to get away after being engulfed in all the planning. I was in AA at the time, and had been sober for 8 months, so I was proud of that progress. I decided to go visit friends out of town for a couple of weeks. At the end of my last week there, I went with my best friend to a party at a friend’s apartment. The guy whose apartment it was, was out of town and had his friend “IR”, watch the apartment and take care of his cat while he was gone. We had a good time, and then "IR" brought alcohol out. I kept declining and saying I really shouldn’t. But eventually, I felt left out of the fun, and took a drink. Then, we played a drinking game. I drank quite a bit. By the end of the game, my friend and I could not drive home. So “IR” said, we girls could sleep in the extra bedroom where there were two beds. An alarm went off in my head after a similar scenario happened leading up to my r* just 7 years prior. But my friend drove and said everything would be okay. IR even gave us clean basketball shorts and tanks to wear for the night. I crashed on one bed, while my best friend slept in the other bed. We really should have slept together if we were thinking straight. I’d fallen asleep. All of the sudden, I feel a body next to me. It was a guy and he was breathing heavily and spooning me. He started kissing my neck and slipped his arm over in front of me from behind, and put his hand up my tank squeezing my breast and ni*. I literally froze. This was all too familiar from 7 years ago where I woke up to being r*d in bed in the dark. I was still woozy from having drunk too much. I turned over to see it was “IR”. It was dark, but I could tell it was him. He shushed me, climbed on top of me, and put both of his hands under my tank now squeezing my breasts, and then lifted it up and put his mouth on my ni*. I tried to squirm out from under him, but he was much bigger and heavier than me and he kept moving from one breast to the other. I froze again and felt like I was beginning to mentally drift. I was scared, and just let him do what he was doing out of fright. Then he laid back beside me, and put his hand, the one closest to me, down my shorts and started rubbing me, while fingering me, and then reached over and grabbed my hand closest to him, and put it down his shorts on his p*. I was too scared and felt so ashamed that this was happening again to me. I remember quickly taking my hand out of his shorts, and he shoved it back in, and whispered “come on, stop playing!” I didn’t want to touch him, and I certainly didn’t want him to touch me either, but I was already becoming aroused by all he’d been doing to me, and he was strong and wouldn't let up. I could feel he was getting mad at me for not cooperating. I didn't know what he would do. He shoved multiple fingers in me so that it hurt, and then used his other hand to move my my hand on his p*, forcing me to masturbate him. I used my other free hand furthest from him, and grabbed onto his hand that was hurting me and whispering “stop, please, that hurts”. I remember trying to move his hand, whimpering from the pain. He kept shushing me and whispering to me to be quiet and just take it. I couldn’t even focus on my other hand on his p* in his shorts. I could just feel it getting firmer. I could tell he wasn’t going to let up on me or me on him. Then, I felt that tingly flushing feeling, and at that point, I couldn’t help but feel pleasure. I cli*d on right there on his hand. I felt so gross, dirty and ashamed. I remember feeling so numb and then drifted outside of my body again… like I wasn’t even there. At the same time, he wouldn’t let my hand go on his p* until he ej*d in my hand. He was breathing heavily, and made some disgusting noises, and a sigh of relief when it happened. He leaned over to kiss me, then turned over to go to sleep like everything that just happened was normal. I turned over facing away from him and curled into a ball. I still felt the pain down there, yet I was numb all over, and felt like the lowest of the lowest. I quietly cried myself to sleep that night. I was too traumatized to even go to the bathroom and clean myself up. I woke up to an empty bed. He was asleep on the couch outside of the bedroom now. I was so numb and felt so stupid for relapsing into drinking, and letting this kind of thing happen to me yet again. I felt like SA had become my normal. Did I give off a vibe that I wanted this or something? I was nice to him that night, but I never flirted with him to make him think I wanted to do more. I was confused about what happened and just wanted to get out of that apartment. My best friend said she was buzzed too, and vaguely remembered hearing panting and grunting, but just thought maybe we just hooked up or something. I couldn’t even get out the words to tell her he forced me, because I was still in shock and ashamed. I left town and drove back home (a 10-hour drive) the next day. I was ready to just drive off the road at various points of the trip, so that maybe I could make it seem like an accident. Then I get a call from my best friend saying, “Hey can you believe what I just found out?! “IR” is only 19 years old?!! Girl, I thought he was at least 25! Isn’t that crazy?!" I held it together on the phone, hung up, pulled over, and my whole body went numb… I just realized this 19 year old "boy", snuck into my bed and did those things the night before. He was a really big guy, tall and stocky, with a lot of facial hair, serving drinks and everything, so I thought he was at least 21 or older. He looked my age to be honest. I was 29 at this point. I felt so sick to my stomach and vomited outside on the side of the road. All of these thoughts raced through my head. When I was around "IR's" age, I’d been repeatedly mol*d by a man in his 30s for years, and then r*d by a 40 year old man soon after that. And here I am 29, almost 30, having been in bed with a 19 year old. I automatically felt sick, like a predator. I didn’t want to do those things with him that night, but I froze and was scared... of what I found out to be a 19 YEAR OLD! What is wrong with me?! Why did I freeze like that? Why didn’t I yell or scream? Meanwhile, my friend tells me when he found out I was 29, he thought it was an accomplishment. I hated that and felt so gross and violated. I attempted suicide again the following week. I felt so horrible. It hasn’t been that long since this happened, and I finally told my friend that I didn’t want to do what happened. She asked if we should do something about it. I said no out of shame and embarrassment. Who would believe a 29 year old was SA’ed by a teenager? I still feel sick and horrible about it. I have recurring nightmares about it… me being scared to find a body next to me in bed in the dark, me freezing, the arousal, the pain I felt, the embarrassment I felt for cli*ing, him using my hand to make him… Ugh. So now, when I start to feel bad about years of SA from multiple men, I feel like a hypocrite... I feel like I don’t deserve to feel bad because I let this teenager do these sick and awful things to my body and himself. It doesn’t matter whether I knew his age or not. And no, he wasn't a minor. But it's still very close. The facts of the situation are enough to make me physically sick. I’m still having trouble trying to come back from this. If you have gotten this far, thank you for reading it. I still feel uneasy as if people would view me differently. However, I’m just so tired of keeping so many secrets like this.
  4. Hi everyone! I hope everyone is doing well in this strange time in history (pandemic and national BLM uprising!) I am new to After Silence. I am also new to the healing process. I am not sure how to go about this, but from what I have seen, AS is a great community where I will hopefully find support among fellow survivors. I am a college student studying history. I love to read and write, especially about politics. I hope that I can incorporate writing and reading into my healing process (I've heard that Body Keeps the Score is a good book. Any thoughts on this?) Anyways, I am here in quarantine with my family, and all this time alone has forced me to think. Memories flooded back and I finally came to the epiphany/reckoning with my sexual assault(s) which happened three years ago. I am now starting my healing process because these past three years I have simply been in denial and constantly burying my trauma under layers of justifications and refusals to acknowledge the truth. Thank god that forums like this exist! I am excited to conversate with all of you:)
  5. 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 I decided I would just go get some coffee and food or something if he didn't answer. Before I could even look up from my purse after putting my phone away, I felt someone close. It was him. At first I froze because I just didn't know what he was doing outside, but my stomach turned. I couldn't even react. If there was even any time. He sniffed me and told me he needed me to come with him and I thought, well fuck I'm busted for the joint I smoked moments before (fucking buzzkill). At least that's what came to my mind when I heard him sniff. I never thought anything more than that. I figured he wanted to punish me (as far as getting me into trouble with the principal or something normal) because my boyfriend always started fights with him and embarrassed him. Well, he ended up taking me toward the main doors, which was on the way to the student parking lot. Only he kept going. Skipping the entrance. The doors I should have bolted for. He led me, grabbing my arm slightly. Not much further to go "can we talk? I just want to talk." At this point, stupidly I thought "Oh ok. Maybe he doesn't want to get me into trouble" (Fucking dumb thought). I didn't even want to be at school to begin with, I just wanted to leave until my next college class later..This was probably second period at this point.. So part of me didn't want to go in the school anyways. I said "Talk about what??" But as we were heading away from the doors of the main building to the student parking area, he must have noticed nobody around because he grabbed me harder, walked faster. I naturally was starting to tense and try to pull away somewhat. He told me "Stop moving" and before I knew it he shoved me into the back of his car. I don't know why it was in student parking. But it was pretty much isolated. I don't know why I didn't run or scream. It really didn't cross my mind at that point that this could be anything violent or rape. Then I heard the doors lock and saw he was right next to me. At that point I was terrified. His windows were tinted. It was a car this time not the truck he took me to before... I felt uneasy. First thing he said to me was "why do you look so confused? I thought this was what you wanted. You keep talking about it." and smiled at me. That smile gave me chills. Like there was pure evil in it. I didn't know what to expect because I guess I'm the most naive person, but I knew I didn't expect him to rape me. I was also young and never thought this kind of thing would ever happen to me. But after he smiled at me like that, my stomach jumped into my throat. It now crossed my mind and I felt sick. I looked at the floor and closed my eyes "what do you want??" He didn't say anything. Just grabbed my face and turned my head to where I was facing him. He came in to kiss me and I tried with everything I had to pull away. Trying to go for the door, but he grabbed me and threw me against the seat and everything happened so fast. He kept trying to kiss me and I kept turning my head so he ended up kissing my face and neck. He was unzipping my coat and touching my body. He ripped my pants down and I was trying to pull them back up, desperately trying to keep myself covered. But he wouldn't let me, it just made him more forceful. "Get off of me!" I couldn't believe I followed him here, to this! I couldn't believe I was so stupid. He said "Why are you acting like this? You've been begging me to fuck you." I was trying to shove any part of him I could grab away from me and telling him I couldn't do this, he couldn't do this. "Sshhh, I can" he pulled my shirt down some. He leaned into me as he pulled my sweatpants, underwear and shoes off all at once, just tearing it all off me. He made an "mmm" sound, it made me feel so gross! Leaning into me more, crushing me with his body weight, he took his pants down. He touched me with his hand and put his fingers in me. Making comments..When he took his fingers out he licked them and told me I tasted "sweet." He grabbed my hand and put it on his di*k and asked me if I was ready for "that." I remember asking him not to again but I don't remember exactly what I said and it was probably a whisper at this point. I guess I realized he was actually for real going to have sex with me. He bent my leg and pushed it against the seat and threw my other leg to where it was hanging off the seat. I said “No. I don’t want to do this part” He asked me what I was scared of. I asked him to not hurt me... “No it won’t hurt, *trying to kiss me* 🤮 you’ll like it.” He was putting his body part against my body part. I told him I didn't want that in me.. “Sssshhh i can make you o* don’t you want to feel that?Just let me show you” He shoved it in me and didn’t even try to be gentle 😣 I said "Ouch that hurts please?" “Oh please give you more” and he would thrust more and it would hurt so I would tense and cry and he would tell me it didn’t hurt that I needed to relax my body and take it all in 🤢 I remember thinking I was trash. I thought N was going to hate me for cheating on him. He was going to think I was gross. My coat was on the entire time with my chest exposed some because he pulled my shirt down. I had no pants on though. I felt so exposed and vulnerable; I was embarrassed and didn’t want to scream because I didn’t want anyone to see me that way. I thought for a second “is he going to kill me here” but he seemed to be okay if I stopped fighting him off. I thought maybe if I just did this he would let me go and I could just get away from him as soon as possible. He said “You’re just tight. Just give it a minute and it’ll feel really good for you” I never had sex with anyone but N and he was I guess average size. But this was large like he always said it was. And it hurt me. I told him I wanted him to take it out but he wouldn’t stop. He kept telling me that it would get better, it would feel better in a min. He touched my cl*. I guess it felt a little better with him doing that but i still didn’t want him doing any of this to me. He was raping me! I said no! I didn’t want his penis in me!! I never wanted that! He kept trying and trying and then he just took it from me..I was being smashed into this small space and trying to get even just a foot away, to breathe. But there was nowhere I could go. I felt so trapped. "You're so tight, I'm going to cum already." I tried once more to fight him off by pushing on his face when I had the chance, but he flipped shit about that. He grabbed my arm, threw it down and punched the car seat multiple times. That was terrifying. I thought he was going to start hitting me. So I guess I became more submissive at that point. He didn't hit me though. He put his hand around my neck, which scared me at first. But he never actively choked me. Just touched me like he was going to choke me? He kept going and saying vile things to me (which I don't remember all of; "you smell so good" "is this how you wanted it?" "Ssshhhh, just relax. You can like it if you relax" "I hope someone sees") until he decided he wanted something else. He was always holding onto my arms, guiding me. He sat down on the seat and made me sit on top of him, facing away. He held my arms behind me as he continued doing what he wanted. I remember was him pushing me more into the back of the front seat. He whispered things in my ear. I hate admitting this right now but I have to get it out- his breath as he was whispering tickled my neck and he had reached around at some point to touch my cl**, and I ended up orgasming. I didn't know it was at the time. It was a hot tingling sensation and my body started twitching. I wanted to scream but I didn't I hoped he didn't notice. If he did, I didn't pay attention to what he said if he did. I was too focused on that new sensation. The next thing I remember was he said "Turn around and ride me." "No, please, I don't want to do this! I'm not ready" I was mortified. I had no idea what I was doing. "I'll show you, it's ok." And this is where it gets even more humiliating for me. These parts make me obsess with deleting what I write. I'm so ashamed! I didn't want to do any of this! But I also wanted it to be over with. So I turned around and he put it back inside He made a comment about me bleeding and it made me start to cry. He grabbed my hips and squeezed "do you like that?" I was unresponsive at first but he made me tell him I did. He made me say other things too. Degrading things about myself (He made me call him by his first name. He told me I was a filthy sl*t ("his") and made me say I was) I tried to keep my eyes closed because I couldn't stand looking at him. He told me I was too stiff and that I needed to "loosen up." I started to cry more almost hyperventilating. "Open your eyes, look at what you're doing." The next thing I remember, he grabbed my arms hard and held them on either side against me until he finished. He leaned into me breathing hard, and all I remember is crying and trying to do it quietly. I couldn't believe where I was and what was happening to me. I was trying to figure out how I could even get out of the car. All I wanted was to get off and away from him, but when I tried to move my arms away from him, he wouldn't let me go. Made me stay there on him. He would let me pull away a little and then pull me back down, laughing. So I just stayed there, humiliated and broken. "Were you a fuckin virgin? Did I just pop your sweet cherry?" He didn't but I definitely wasn't experienced and I guess I was bleeding because he was rough, which I guess he liked. I lost my virginity not long before this. I only had sex a few times before this with N. I didn't respond to him. But he got really excited thinking I was... looking at me with wide, crazy eyes. It was horrifying! I think he wanted to ruin me. Like he thought his career was over so he didn't even care anymore and just wanted to cause as much pain and torment as he could. "Sweet, tart cherry pie" When I was finally allowed to get up, I was in a panic looking for my clothes. I couldn't see them, which he enjoyed watching me freak out. He ended up handing them to me eventually..I heard him say something about doing this again sometime. I remember not finding my underwear in what he gave me. I threw my clothes and shoes on and tried to grab for the locked door. There were no lock switches on these back doors, so I couldn't unlock the doors to get out. He liked watching me panic with fear. He fed off of it. I asked "Can I please go? I won't tell anybody" He said "I know" "Hey, I hope your boyfriend likes the way I taste" with a huge grin, and he unlocked the doors with his keys and I fucking ran for my life. Confused and trying to make sense of what all just happened. If this really just happened. What am I going to do? I had gone to the bathroom in school to figure out if I was bleeding because it felt like I must have been bleeding more-but it was just his se***... I went home, showered and laid down in bed and cried until I couldn't anymore. Wondering why he let me out of the car. Thinking how I needed to tell someone. But being humiliated and scared. Remembering him saying people would just think I had a crush on him and that really bothered me. I didn't understand if I told people he hurt me why anyone would assume "oh she must have a crush on him." As a 17 year old who wasn't at all experienced with anything, I didn't get it back then. But reflecting on it as an older woman now, I see he probably meant everyone would think I made it up "crying rape" to ruin his precious image or whatever. I remember he told us students he had a friend in law enforcement before; how he also charmed his way out of any wrong doing he seemed to commit (like the previous school locker room incident), I was just so discouraged. Anyways, I called N and when he finally called me back, I could tell it just wasn't a good time to talk to him. I didn't even want to tell him anyways. Or anyone. But it was eating me alive. I didn't have anyone else in my life around then. I didn't live with either parent and they both had priorities that didn't involve me... My grandma, who I lived with (I miss her so much) was always working and stressed. She also had bad health; specifically heart issues and I sure as hell didn't want to stress her with my problems. I felt so alone and isolated. So I drank some alcohol just to try to sleep. N ended up showing up at my house, which I didn't expect. Probably because I wouldn't respond to him since I was pissed he wouldn't answer me earlier. He started asking me questions. I looked horrible so I guess that warranted it. I was tearing up so he knew something was wrong, but I really didn't want to talk about it. He wouldn't let up though. "Why are you so upset? Whats going on? Is it your mom?" She stressed me a lot back then so I think naturally that was his first idea. It could have been the alcohol or maybe I was desperate to be seen with this pain, but I muttered "someone hurt me today." "What do you mean?" "Someone forced me" and at this point I was trying with everything I had not to cry more but I couldn't stop it from flooding. He looked at me with pure confusion and what looked to me, at first, as disbelief "forced you what?" So I started to close off and needed to sit down. I ran back to my room where I could sit. He followed me "forced you?" My ears began to ring and I just crumbled. He was still saying stuff but I couldn't even focus anymore. "Like sex?? When? Where?? Who was it????" is some of what I could hear as I ran to my trash can and puked. My head began to spin. And I felt foolish and guilty for saying something. So much shame. N told me I needed to tell someone. I had to tell him who it was first. He asked me a lot of questions and found out it happened at school. With more and more questions I became more uncomfortable and laid down, which he then guessed eventually. He wasn't his first guess though, because I mean seriously who would think that?! When I wouldn't give him a direct answer, he said "just tell me it wasn't him" and I fucking lost it. Once he was confident enough in what he wanted to know, he told me he had to leave. He had to go because he couldn't just sit there. He was too angry and wanted to punch my wall. I freaked out and told him "please don't do something stupid!" Maybe I was selfish in that moment, but I really just wanted him to hold me and tell me it was ok. I just wanted to feel like I mattered at all. And that loneliness added to my feeling of worthlessness and like no one could ever truly understand what happened or truly care. I didn't know what I could do so I called N after he left just to make sure he wasn't going to do something impulsive or crazy. He promised me he wouldn't, he just needed to think clearly right now. He ended up telling me I HAD to tell someone at the school. I had to let someone know what happened. I don't know why our first thought wasn't the cops. I didn't even think about going to the police honestly. I was just so damn scared. So two days after that horrible day, N accompanied me to school. There was the principal of our section of the school and a teacher of my choosing (they let me for comfort, I guess). I couldn't speak. N asked if he should leave the room, if that'd make it easier. I cried and ran out of the office. He followed and told me he saw how hard it was on me, but they needed to know who he really was. So after I gathered myself, I went back in. N offered to go get drinks from the cafeteria with the principal if it was ok with me, and I agreed because it was hard enough to talk to him about this. The teacher said "if it makes you more comfortable, you can avoid using "I" or "me" when you talk about this." So that's what I did. I said "this teacher hurt a student." I was very vague because deep down I was terrified and too embarrassed. When N and the principal came back, they asked me a few more questions. I answered, and then they picked up the phone to call my mom. I panicked. I didn't want her to know. I didn't know what I was thinking going there, telling them these things and thinking everyone wasn't going to find out my humiliation soon. I clammed up and ran out, N following me and we left. I didn't go back to school except to get my things. And when I did that I saw the guy who raped me in the office. I found out later he was putting in his paternity leave for the rest of the year because his wife was giving birth soon. I didn't know anything about him except random things he told our classroom when we were his students, and hearing he was about to become a father made me fucking sick. Made me question even more things. I also soon after this found out the school gave him a lawyer after I told them, in so many words, that he hurt me. That intimidated me beyond repair. I felt so isolated, alone, ashamed. To me, at that time, I just wanted to forget any of it ever happened. I was young and I regret not doing things differently back then. I just didn't know what to do. I was so lost and so confused; felt trapped. If he was also close to someone in the law, then it made sense why he seemed arrogant. Also made sense why he already had a lawyer. This intimidation, in turn, caused me to make bad decisions. I didn't hear anything else from the school or anything from an investigator or anything like that. They contacted a lawyer for him but not a cop for me. So I think that added to my decision to bury it deep. I was so close to the end of the school year when I stopped going that I still graduated. Even if I wasn't on track to graduate, I don't know if I could have gone back there anyways. The teacher I opened up to spoke to me at my graduation and asked me if I was doing okay, but that was it and I never heard anything else about it. N tried to tell the school to get phone records to show he was interacting with female students outside of school (which was my ex best friend R that we KNEW of). He told them this info because he was trying to show them how he wasn't what he was saying he was. But they didn't care. Or at least I didn't think they did at the time (I much later found out he was made to resign from my school in June, two months after the rape. Not sure if it was because of the phone records or me sobbing in the office telling them he hurt me.) But back then, I felt incredibly alone. I thought if I buried it and never spoke about it, it would all be over. But I swear, this person wanted me to be miserable with every embarrassment he suffered from me trying to tell on him.I guess I tried to turn him in, I really did the best I knew how back then. I still have so much anger and shame with myself though that he is still free, but I mean what else was I supposed to do as a 17 year old with no parental guidance? I don't know what to feel about myself some days...
  6. 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 think some of this is coming from DS watching sequisha. Never really saw him before and I guess seeing him and how he resembles him made me sick! Plus the video game rage and guitar playing just took me back there for a minute!!!! I had to run to the bathroom and hyperventilate a little. Now I guess things are flooding back some. I remember inappropriate things he did as a teacher in high school: -Talking about how he had a large di*k (wtf. everyone laughed, nobody cared) -Talking about sex games he played in college. -Talking about masturbation; both male and female. -Joking about his bass guitar playing being like playing with a clit. -Letting us watch Dane Cook standup (it was funny in some parts) but I remember feeling uncomfortable when the joke was about female masturbation and how it was like being a disc jockey, which we knew he was. -He always wanted us to open up about our problems, like trying hard to get us to talk to him on a personal level or help us one on one with projects. Like one instance during lunch, I was working on homework and he asked me if I needed help, to which I said "no" but he kept trying to get me to let him help me. But I didn't need help so I said no. I wonder what he would have done if I said yes... -He told us he had insane insomnia and barely slept at night. - He also told us he would black out/ pass out sometimes and had done that since he was a kid. -R trying really hard to get me to join their school band "mr. m said he wants me to ask you to sing!" We had done homework together a few times and we would listen to music and I sang I guess and I do remember her saying I had a nice voice; which she must have told him about. Sick. -He gave me the history award at the end of the year and there was actually no reason for it at all. It made R kind of jealous and mad I guess and I think it was easier for her to pull away from me that following year...she never understood why she wouldn't have been given the award because she was his "favorite student" and yea I didn't get it at all either and still don't get why. -I remember apologizing on behalf of my boyfriend N my senior year (before the rape, obviously). I felt like I had to apologize for how N kept making uncomfortable jokes and things. He looked at me like "you should be sorry" Like everything HAD been my fault. I don't know why I felt I needed to do this. I don't remember exactly what pushed me to do it. I mostly remember more about which room we were in in school, the giant windows that showed the traffic on the downtown street. And his look of pure disdain at me Random fragments & recovered memories: -I remember running out of the office crying the day I was telling them he raped me. I saw people in the computer lab and I looked right at R and she looked at me as I was crying and looked concerned. I wish I could have screamed it then! HE RAPED ME . But I couldn’t I am so weak -After I was raped the first time when I was 17, I was In a lot of pain. It made me nauseous to shower and even touch down there. It was a horrible reminder- I remember wanting the pain to just be gone so I didn’t have to think about it -I remember shaking with fear "you look terrified" *smile* "I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax, you'll enjoy it if you don't tense up" 🤢 -I remember N telling Storm my life. Storm then turning around and talking to z and also J and telling them things N was telling them in confidence...which was how word got back to z about N's legal case and things of that sort... - I remember one single memory alone of being in a car, I was naked. I was was bleeding from somewhere down there. It all hurt, both my vagina and my bum. I don't remember when this was or what happened before or after. -I remember being given a ton of water. I was always thirsty and I was always given a lot of water. -I remember being really alert with certain memories. Fragments of others. Maybe some memories were more intense and memorable? I have no idea. -I also remember not being able to talk sometimes. Physically unable to speak. I could make noises and try to talk but I couldn't move my mouth much or form words. He would want me to respond to him but I physically could not do it. It was like my jaw was wired shut or something. -I remember wanting him to choke me more to kill me but he wouldn't, he just laughed "that's not fun for me" -I remember one of the guys who used me had brown skin; light brown skin. He had a chest tattoo that said love on one side and pain on the other. -I remember performing oral sex on him ^ while someone was having sex with me from behind. I had to stop because I couldn't breathe and he was decent about it. Let me catch my breath. -Another memory I have with him is him ^ giving me water and another of him showering me, washing my hair. I don't know why he would have been doing that unless I couldn't do it myself or didn't want to. Which I can't imagine why I wouldn't want to unless I thought it would make me less desirable to have sex with. -I do remember not shaving for a while and him making me shave. Told me he would do it if I didn't. -I also remember how much he hated when I would get a tan or when I pierced my body or got tattoos. He told me he would cut the tattoo off of me.. it got to a point he would inspect me completely before we did things. It was so invasive! Him looking at every part of my body and telling ME what he didn’t want on my body... I felt like I didn’t exist. My body wasn’t mine -I remember when DS (my husband) and I first met he wanted to get me to sq*; this was scary for me-I was paranoid he knew something or saw something about me; it was eerily specific and made me weary but I guess he knew nothing... -My car was also always being fucked with when I lived in Ohio. Weekly had to call work telling them I would be late because something was cut on my car, again. When I moved, it was stolen, cleaned out, abandoned, then repossessed. -When I moved to Cali, someone burned my dads house down. Found out it was a guy I went to high school with. He was paid to do it and nobody really knows who paid him to do so because he was just a street kid who lives on the streets when he is out of jail. Update: -After the second attack, I remember waking up on the bed with urine on me. I was naked and I was sore and I remember just being elated I was in my room. But I was on the wrong bed so I knew that was off. I was naked, I peed, I saw blood on the blanket beside me. I saw needle marks. My body was so sore. Everywhere. But I tried to tell myself no it was just a dream. Had to be. But dreams don’t leave physical marks... when I found my phone I guess I realized this was a real thing and I panicked. I remember falling to the floor and hurting myself. Screaming nasty things at myself. I hated myself. I was nothing. I couldn’t do anything. I was stuck. I wanted to die. But I didn’t want to die at my grandmas house and her find me there and I didn’t know what to do. So I showered. I crawled Into my bed, hurting so much. I smoked and I went to sleep eventually. I remember waking panicking that entire night. What felt like every half hour. When I would wake up it felt like I was holding my breath in my sleep before being startled awake. I couldn’t cry though. I was numb. Just scared. Hated myself but couldn’t die at my grandmas and I could barely walk so I just laid in bed miserable, broken. Completely shattered. Ripped apart. Every inch of my body hurt. My jaw. My throat. My arms. My legs. My vagina and bum. I felt sick to my stomach. My head hurt. I just felt like I had been mauled -DS telling me about the rumors from high school; how I would have sex in the student parking lot during school -I asked him why he hated me so much once, why he wanted to hurt me so badly. He just half smiled and wrinkled his brow, "I'm not hurting you?" -I remember a time I had made him angry, something I said.. But he pushed me and bent me over a bathroom counter and started hurting me in my bum again. That’s what he did when I wouldn’t do what he wanted me to do. The table was digging into my rib cage and hips and I remember not knowing what body part hurt more in that moment. I kind of focused on relaxing my body so it wouldn't hurt so much he made me look in the mirror and he told me I was a dumb w**re and nobody would want me -I couldn’t eat when I was with him- not that he didn’t let me but I physically couldn’t. Just things like apples and mandarins, everything else made me sick. it would get to points where I couldn’t perform the way he wanted me to- physically or the one thing he wanted me to do because I was dehydrated and he would get angry with me, keep me and make me do more things -There were times when he finished, he would make me look him in his eyes. He would grab my face and squeeze "open your eyes, look at me" as he was shaking me back and forth making my jaw hurt.. So I would open my eyes, sometimes looking in his eyes and sometimes looking between his eyes (thank you Dwight Schrute). Then he would cum. He burned these moments into my head. The worst part is I have thought about these memories while having sex and sometimes it repulses me and other times it doesn’t ... 🤢 -He wouldn’t tie my hands or hold my hands down himself after so many times. He would make me put my hands in certain places and if I moved them he would rip my hair or something to remind me I had to put them where he wanted them. Sometimes he made me put my own arms behind my Back and hold them there. That was so painful after a while. -This memory was in a hotel room. He had his camera set up on a tripod. "You look warm. Take all your clothes off. Turn around. Get on the bed on all fours. Yea, like that." He comes over to me after doing something to his camera. He starts having sex with me. He pushed me down on my stomach, and that's when he made me do what he wanted.. . He wouldn't stop doing things to me and it made me feel out of control. He was Making me do so much this specific time and I was so exhausted. I just wanted to lay down in the bed and close my eyes. But he kept going. He made me do all kinds of things :cry:It was over and he gave me drugs, I drank some liquor and I passed out right next to him -There were multiple times I had to lay down next to him out of pure exhaustion. He would stay with me and watch tv or other stuff. Sometimes I would wake up to find him asleep too. I felt fucking horrified. I wanted to get up and leave when I saw him so close to me, but whenever I would move to get up, he would move and it was just pointless -he would make me watch videos he made that’s how I know he really did record things. I don’t know why he made me watch them...but I can remember feeling disconnected from what I was seeing. It all felt unreal. -He also let me use my phone when I was with him. Sometimes I would “forget it” at home mostly because he almost always smashed them at some point of DJ called me or something. But he would let me text people back sometimes if I did have it. He always watched what I was writing, it had to be short and he would read before I sent it -I can remember being so soaked with sweat and then after everything was done, the extreme cold chill that would come over my wet body. It was the worst. I would get the worst shakes. The drugs and alcohol helped most of the time --One night when I was with him and DJ had called me a few times, he took my phone and threw it in the toilet and pissed on it. -"Please, I don't want to do this!" he mocked me in a whining voice. So I stopped asking for anything and just did. -I don't remember some of the violent parts, Except choking when I wasn't drugged. I think my brain blocked them out. But I will have phantom pains during panic attacks associated to memories I only have pieces and parts of not ready to write about those yet though. -I can’t even talk about the parts Where I just did what I knew he wanted me to do- those memories feel consensual even though I know they weren’t :cry:the times I would wake up and flinch because he was laying next to me and then he would make some kind of joke and I would just smile and nod, dead eyes. I think my eyes are still dead -The first time I remember being made to have sex with someone I didn't know, I was absolutely horrified. I don't know if this is the first time because my memory was horrible then, but this memory I remember being scared. This is so hard for me to talk about still. Even though other things were horrifying as well, this was when I remember thinking for sure my life had to be over. I was going to be used by this person I didn't know and my initial rapist (we will just call him z) was finally going to kill me. These people were going to use me and throw me into the woods like garbage.I didn't know this person. He was white. I don't remember his face. Or his hair color. Or eyes. I just remember his smell. Sweaty. Spit from kissing me I HATE the smell of spit. OMG fucking hate it! I felt so grossed out being raped by z, but this was just so strange I didn't understand it! I didn't know what to think of anything going on. I don't really know how to put it into words. I felt betrayed by z. Even though, yea, all he did was betray me. But this was like a really huge "fuck you. I hate you. You are nothing." I didn't get why this was something he wanted to do to me. Maybe break me ? ^ He made me get on my hands and knees and he started having sex with me vaginally. I remember being so scared, trying to focus on breathing. I had no idea what to expect next. It all felt like a nightmare that just couldn't be real! I was fucking petrified. I went in and out. Don't remember most of this. I remember different positions, some choking with something he had (some kind of cloth), hair pulling, smacking. I tried to focus on my thoughts. I really tried to think positively. But bad things kept coming to my brain. "I am seriously dead soon. This is really happening. I hope it isn't too painful. Or too bloody." "Would anyone ever find me?" I was thinking of the fun my cousins and I had growing up. All the laughing. Family. Mourning that I would never be anything more than this. No love. No kids. I wondered if N would know who did it if I was ever found. Or did he forget about me? Probably... I don't remember when it was over or anything else. -He made me dress up as a cheerleader once with no panties on under my skirt. Made me do a cheer to that Ohio state song I won’t name right now because I can’t 😢 so whenever he made me kick it was just like he could see everything of me....💔 i know he made me do something sexual to myself because I remember feeling so humiliated he was watching me. I pretended to like what I was doing but I didnt and I couldn’t because I was too embarrassed. He knew and told me to try something else or he would show me how to like it. So l told him to show me 😣 so he did things to me. And sometimes when these things are done to me I can’t feel them. I numb my body out completely. -He had off the wall fantasies. Wanted me to be pretend I didn’t know him and I was just some sl** he picked up off the street to "fuck" he said. Or the time he recorded my genuine reaction to him making me have sex with some guy with that love & pain tattoo, some other white guy and him. That was a rape video he recorded. A genuine rape video. Wherever it is 😞 this one is really hard to talk about honestly. I don’t feel like it can possibly be real but I remember the feelings I had. The pain. The thoughts I was never going to be able to have a life outside of this. I was just a slave to be used by whoever whenever forever. I didn’t have any other purpose. My stomach hurt. I was queasy and cramping. I had the shakes for a while and I remember him saying things like “yea you can’t control your shaking legs” he knew what he wanted how he wanted and just moved me around like a rag doll. Any which way he wanted. It started with oral on the mixed guy. I remember gagging and almost puking. He seemed to be pleased with that 😞 then he pushed me down on stomach, lifted my bottom up and started having sex with me vaginally. I was crying because it was hurting. I was being mocked by one or all of them I don’t remember. I think I started crying too loud because I remember him getting close to me and telling me to “shut the fuck up” “shut up” over and over . “Shut” thrust “up” thrust over and over again. I don’t remember when I stopped crying. I remember how it all ended though. He pulled himself out of me and just jammed it into my mouth and then he pulled it out and came on my face. Then he stared fingering me and I didn’t get why because he was done! But then I realized I was going to have to do whatever the others wanted to do with me. And one just came over and started having sex with me too. I didn’t even have a chance to wipe the stuff off of my face. I was doing that as he started having sex with me because I felt horrible having one guys cum on me while someone else was now using me 💔 all I could smell was cum and spit. I just wanted to die!!!! I remember trying to get away but I couldn’t because there were two others . He wasn’t interested in anything but a rough scenario this time so he was throwing me around and being aggressive also. I didn’t care though this time I was hoping they would kill me together in this room. I begged him to choke me and kill me “this is better. We are having fun” he used me every way. I had to give oral to the guy at the edge of the bed while I was being rammed behind. And I orgasmed. Only because he was touching my clit and pinching it. “See look you like being double teamed. How about this” he pushed my head down and told me not to scream Or he would be rough and he put himself in my bum again of course I cried because I hate it 💔 after a min he made me get up and before I knew what was happening I was being shoved down On top of the one guy and he was inside of me and then I felt him inside of me behind me and they were both raping me in both places. My body didn’t like what was happening and it just went limp. I remember being told to stop that. He would shake me or smack me or pinch me to keep me present. “Are you dehydrated? Why aren’t you squirting??” “Idk” “well do it” “I don’t want to!!” “stop crying” “I can’t" -I remember once I went to the hotel before him and I was in the shower and he came in while I was in the shower and grabbed me out and did what he wanted to me 😞 for some reason I was in the mindset that I needed to just play along and be into it and let myself relax so I could enjoy it. So that’s what I did. We did that for a while. I can remember thinking it was one of those times that it just went on forever and I probably dissociated because I don’t remember much but being a sl*t Why is there so much? Does anyone else's recovered memories and post abuse realizations look this lengthy?? I am feeling stupid and pathetic about it all 💔
  7. 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 💜
  8. It has taken me a bit to have the time to write this, but I am glad to be finally doing so About two months ago, I saw a post on After Silence called "Description of Consent" and there were tons of examples of what is considered a consensual situation and 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 DJ 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 him that night, but because I had some alcohol and drugs, I think I maybe gave in easier? I said "no, not tonight..I don't want to. I am starting my period soon..." he didn't care to hear any of it and just did what he wanted. This had been bothering me a lot. So when DS continued joking about DJ being our oldest son's dad or about me sleeping with him before (which I mean may sound cruel, but it was always a light joke because we were all friends in HS), I just felt gross inside anymore. It was always a bigger joke than it needed to be because there was an instance DS was home for leave from his second deployment and we were in our hometown visiting and lo and behold went to a restaurant DJ was working (CRINGE). DS said "you will never believe who I saw walk into the kitchen" and we shared a laugh and finished eating. Well of course when we were leaving, DJ was walking out of the bar area as we were leaving so we all passed each other and all saw each other; DJ turned his head sharp to the left and started walking that way away from us fast. it was incredibly awkward and DS always felt so weird after that encounter since we were all adults, once friends. But the jokes were always there, especially after this awkward encounter. I wanted to tell him eventually so he would please stop with the jokes. Well, one night a little over a month ago, with some wine in me, I decided to screenshot the consent form and highlight the specific situation in which I could relate to when it came to that sexual encounter. He was absolutely shattered. Crying. He got off his game and came to talk and ask me questions. Which was very uncomfortable. He wanted to know more. "What happened next" "and then what happened after that" but I just couldn't do this with him! I told him "there is no reason for you to know anymore." I don't even know why he would want to think about it! It would only give him more of a mental picture of what happened and I would never want that for him. So I wanted to leave it at that! Little did I know, my entire life was about to change the next day. He went to work like normal the next day. He was sad, yeah. But I just figured we could talk more about it and it could improve. I asked him throughout the day if he was okay, and he always said "yea." Well that entire morning I had nagging paranoia. Someone joined After Silence with a title "Researcher" and a screen name with the name of a city close to my hometown where all my trauma happened and I felt scared someone I didn't want to see my blog would see it and read it. I was spiraling in those hours. Mods were messaging me because I was out of it! Well, little did I know, my husband was reading everything in those moments while I was paranoid about something unrelated. He text me close to the end of the work day and told me he needed me to call my mom and see if she would please watch the kids that night because he needed to talk to me. I thought it was about wanting to talk more about what we discussed the night before. But when he came home and was on the phone in the car, I started to get a little nervous about what we were going to talk about. He came in, just done crying. We got the kids in the car and took them to my moms. Drove home, and went to the living room together. He asked me to sit with him. So we did and he started it off with "I understand if you want to divorce me after this" and I was really fucking scared then. First thing I thought was he contacted DJ somehow or something! I said "Please tell me you didn't confront him because I have been through that before and it always makes things worse!" I didn't know what to think. But the next thing he said was "I know everything about you" and he started crying even more. I immediately just froze and waited for him to say more. "I know everything that has ever happened to you." I couldn't look him in the eye anymore and just started crying silently. I was kind of angry. Extremely ashamed. All the embarrassing details came flooding back to the forefront of my mind. I was feeling horrified. He told me he understood me entirely now. He said he only wanted to know more about the situation I opened up to him about, but once he started reading, he couldn't stop. He told me after reading so much, he put together who raped me. See, we went to high school together and he was a year below me with DJ. We all had that teacher for sophomore world history. It's insane because he knows two of the people who put me in those uncomfortable situations. He said knowing who it was makes it even harder...but he also chose to read it all. Which he is both mad and glad he read it. He told me he didn't expect to read the things about himself that he did and I think it made him feel like a hero, because to me, he is 100% my hero so that's how I wrote about him. I am very in love with him. He has been nothing but gentle and supportive to me every step of every way. I asked if we could just go lay down in bed and we did for about an hour. Just crying together. He kept having random realizations while we were laying there. Things were making more sense to him. He told me he never wants to hurt me. Asked me if he ever did anything to trigger me, or anything I wasn't comfortable with. He asked if we could shower together, so we did. He also wanted to make love. Which I didn't understand at first, but I realized he was feeling traumatized also. He just wanted/ needed to be close in those moments. So we made love. It was a beautiful but sad evening. Full of tears, but understanding and some healing. I found out he was on the phone with his dad when he was in the car, but his dad doesn't know anything more than I have had trauma in my past. He also has been going to therapy. I haven't scheduled my appointment yet, just because I am not fully ready... But we do plan on going together to talk about things in a guided setting. We haven't really talked about it much since. He has asked me if I am mad he read it all, and I told him I didn't know how to feel. I'm not necessarily mad, just I don't know. A few different things I still don't really know how to feel. He read my entire story. He now knows my intimate thoughts. Things I have done. Everything. I feel sick about it honestly. He says he still loves me, somehow. He says he is more in love with me now. How in the hell?? I guess his reaction was the complete opposite of what I thought someone reading my story would be, especially a significant other. I was always so terrified I wouldn't be believed. Or people would think I was foolish. I just had so many fears of the unknown. The person who raped me multiple times made me feel as if I had no chance of being believed. I guess for so long, I believed him entirely. I am beginning to chip away at that false narrative he has written of my life, but it is so hard. I just am so thankful to everyone here who has helped me feel like I am worthy of telling my story. Thank you for believing me. I have been absolutely horrified of anyone knowing these things about me and the comfort I received from those who have reached out to me, it means the entire world to me. I don't know where I would be without this support. I don't know I would have handled my husband reading everything so well if it weren't for you all. You all are amazing! I plan on actually speaking about my past now and that is a really "freeing" feeling. I don't have to feel like I am hiding some big, dark, shameful secret anymore. sam
  9. My husband is amazing. But recently he read my very personal, private journal without my permission; which is kind of like my blog here just more detailed and more memories Needless to say he is now traumatized and even though he is a veteran who fought twice overseas, 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 to be the only thing this rumor stemmed from. Which fills me with a lot of questions and emotions. Would he have started that rumor himself to make me seem like a sl*t or something? Or like sex on campus was something I normally did? Was this an attempt to discredit me? Even though I was just a teenager with no experience? I feel horrible about this
  10. For eight months total, the guy who was deployed (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 ended up messaging me and telling me he wanted to do a surprise welcome home at the airport, and his son would really want me to be there. I struggled with this so much. I wanted to go. In my heart, I wanted to be there. I just didn't feel like I had the right to be there. I didn't feel worthy. My cousin ended up talking me into going and took me. I stood all the way in the back, behind everyone. When he spotted me, he came over, gave me the flowers he had in his hand and hugged me. I was so nervous. We spent our time together talking, eating comfort food and watching the food network together. I didn't want it to end. I felt so safe with him. He was a marine so I knew he had training in defense and I just felt so completely secure, which was a brand new feeling for me. He ended up asking me to be his date to his dads wedding, which was about a week into his trip home (they decided to do it while he was home so he could be a part of it). I accepted for some reason! I had a wonderful time. It didn't feel real to me. His family seemed so happy and full of a lot of nice, loving people. I didn't feel like I belonged at all. But he and I grew closer. It scared me. So after all this, it was time for him to go back to his base across the country. And I was really sad about it. I actually truly felt safe and secure with him. I never knew what that felt like before. I could let my guard down and feel like I didn't have to look over my shoulder when I was with him. I was beside myself when I was alone again. I also thought he would stop talking to me any day. But we remained talking, every day now-multiple times a day. I have no idea what he saw in me. At this point, when it came to the person who tormented me, I was basically cooperative. So in these situations, I would basically take myself to be used. Or "willingly" go with him. I didn't want to be terrorized anymore with being held against my will for however long. This way I could give him what he wanted, which at this point I just knew what to do to get him to be satisfied with it so he wouldn't like force me to do more. If I just played the part he wanted me to play, it could be painless, right? Or as painless as it can be in its own fucked up way. It never lasted for more than two days at this point. Probably because he had kids and couldn't get away with being absent as much. I knew he had kids because his car had car seats and toys. I remember a toddler shoe. That pierced my soul because it reminded me he was just a normal guy to everyone else. He was just a husband, a dad. But to me, he was a fucking monster. He threatened to hurt people I loved. Kill me or my "boy toy." Which I assumed was my friend (DJ) I always hung out with before who ended up taking sex from me also...or maybe even DS, but I mean I know that wasn't likely because he lived in another state. How could he even do that? But I mean I didn't ever imagine he would be capable of doing the things he did to me, so a part of me was still nervous what he would be capable of if he was angry enough. So I was regularly giving him what he wanted from me. It was just the only option I felt I had back then. I didn't want anyone to be hurt because of me. I definitely didn't want anyone to know anything, I was so humiliated! I think he started using the "I will kill your brother/grandma/friends" threat more when he realized it didn't affect me as much when he threatened to kill me anymore. I just didn't care. I hoped he would sometimes. I even asked him to. I guess that was when he flipped the script. It was the same thing every time he used me though there in the end. Drugs, whatever sex he wanted or whatever he wanted to record or if he wanted me to do it with someone else. I was just a sex slave pretty much. I don't even know what this was or what it's considered. I truly felt like a sex slave though. I don't really know how else to describe it. He would make me do things on camera for "people". I don't know how it all worked back then. But he would make me do things alone while he recorded and told me what to do or record himself doing things to me. Sometimes in hotel rooms. That I drove myself to... I was so disconnected from everything at this time I didn't even react to sex except with pleasure. He Made me feel so much shame for that. Beat it into my head that no one would ever believe anything if I said I didn't want it. There was video proof I would be lying, he said. How could I argue that? I couldn't. Anytime I reflect on this I just hear him saying "nobody will ever want you" over and over. One of these times I was with him, after I returned home I noticed DS had messaged me a few times. A few missed calls. I wasn't allowed to have my phone whenever I did these things with him (he would smash them if he saw it, so I just left them at home) so I didn't even know he was trying to get a hold of me until I returned home. The messages seemed worried (it had only been one evening) First, because he thought I was done speaking to him. Second, because he was actually having a bad gut feeling I was in danger (I guess he had that intuition). So I contacted him, telling him I was so sorry, I had to replace my phone... It broke my heart to have to lie to him and that alone made me want to run from him to save him, but he seemed to care about me and I don't know why!! He really truly cared about my well being and respected me. I didn't have the heart to stop talking to him. He told me this made him realize how deep his true feelings were for me. And that's when he started asking me to come to the state he was stationed in to be with him. I, of course, hesitated at first because that was just too much. But each time I had to have sex when I didn't want to, I would fantasize about moving away across the country. It seemed impossible to me. So out of this world. I was also doing what I was doing with this person who was threatening me, and I didn't feel right. I didn't feel faithful, so I didn't feel worthy. I never wanted to do these sexual things. Although I did orgasm, I didn't want to do these things with him or anyone else. But it still made me feel dirty, like I was unfaithful to someone who was committed to me somewhat. I hesitated for months. I didn't know what I would be expecting. I was so scared of so many things. DS came back to visit for Christmas. He noticed I had an eating disorder this visit. I purged everything I ate the entire time he was home. I don't know why he didn't run from me. He also bought me a new phone because I was paranoid about using my other. He told me he wanted me to come back with him. I said I couldn't. I didn't understand what he possibly saw in me. The idea of leaving though became intoxicating. I was sick of being forced to do things I didn't want to do. Sick of being a joke, used for everyone to see every part of me. Violating my bodies trust with pleasure and pain. I was exhausted. Just a side note, I was always getting checked medically. Condoms were used that I remember during the assaults, but I was out of it sometimes so I'm not sure about all the time...I wasn't completely ravaged but I did deal with one std...But this was way before I ever did anything with DS. Anyways, less than a month later, he left again for his base. DS asked me yet again to move with him and stay for a while. I knew I was going to have to be humiliated again soon, and probably not too long after that. I decided I was going to go. Just that quick. Up and go. It was the best thing I ever did. I got my plane ticket, and flew out west! When I landed, he picked me up and took me back to this apartment that he just furnished. He had my favorite color lamp shades and kitchen towels. It's making me cry now thinking about it. I didn't understand how or why I deserved this treatment. He was/is seriously amazing to me. I probably tell him this every day, if not multiple times. I don't know why I was blessed with him but I was. He saved my life. I don't think he will ever truly know to the extent in which he saved me. I really don't think I would be alive today. Unfortunately, soon after moving there, I became really depressed. The weight of everything really fell on me and I fucking freaked out. I felt like I lied to DS all this time, but there was just no way I would ever tell him anything. I was insanely paranoid my grandma would be killed or something. I just had no idea what to expect, but I knew I had to leave or I would be dead when he was done with me. Luckily DS was working during the day because I was a mess around then. Picked myself up when he came home but he knew I was struggling. I started trying anything at all to try to get out of this funk and nothing was really working. One day he came home from work and we drove to this place in the middle of the desert; a small building with what looked like a warehouse size building beside it. It was the humane society and he brought me there to pick a pet to keep me company. That's when I adopted my first cat, who is laying with me right now as I type this. She still provides me comfort. I think he just always knew exactly what I needed when I needed it. He respected my space when it came to everything. He is so patient and loving. We ended up getting married eventually (going on 7 years). I fell head over heels for him. I feel safe with him. Secure. For the first time in my life. We ended up moving back to our home state before our first son was born so when he was born, our family could meet him; more so DS's family. Although my home town brought a lot of painful memories to me, we moved back. I had paranoid thoughts at first and struggled with depression, but it faded some. I was here for years and started feeling normal, living my life. Being a mother and wife. Then everything came crashing into my life yet again in November of 2019. I was walking down the aisle at the grocery store as I naturally started looking at the person who was at the end of that aisle. As I stepped closer I thought "ew that looks like...oh my god that's him. He's here. What if he sees me?" And I had to walk past him because there was nowhere else for me to even go the way this store was laid out (unless I wanted to run out of the entrance I just walked into and I wasn't even sure the door would open that way for me!) It was all happening so fast. So many thoughts all at once. I don't know what compelled me to look at him. Just my own morbid curiosity I guess. He was stuck there and his eyes were wide and like bulging. He knew it was me. I kept going and went to the checkout and as I was leaving I noticed he was just now leaving the first aisle by the entrance. So weird. Almost like he was avoiding me as much as I was avoiding him. Now I'm scared to go places alone again. I have paranoid thoughts about leaving. Although it's winter and I usually am naturally a homebody, I have become reclusive and almost never leave the house unless I have to. I feel much safer at home. My husband makes me feel protected. We do have a weapon or two for protection, cameras, and a security system. So this is my safe haven and I want to stay here for now. Sometimes I feel like I should come forward to tell everyone who he truly is. What he's capable of. Because in the back of my mind, I've always had fears he would have killed me. If not me, then maybe someone. Or he could hurt someone else the way he did me. I don't know. I feel so much guilt. I know he lost his job and license to be a teacher anywhere. That may limit his easier access, but who knows what life he leads. He was obviously violent and had humiliating fantasies. I just don't know why after all he ruined of my life, why I have to feel responsible to dedicate even more of my life centered around him. It isn't fair. So I decided to fake my death and move on. It is hard. But everyone knowing the humiliation and him still not being able to be held legally accountable, I'm sure, would have crushed me beyond repair I think. I don't want him to completely annihilate me. I want to now live for ME. I also couldn't admit these things out loud. It's still too hard to admit this was all real. I can't even have social media accounts because I'm too paranoid. Even worse now that I'm a parent. I guess I can sleep nowadays without waking up freaking out like someone is standing there, but this is still looming over me way more than I would like. I'm horrified even writing it all out. I know I'll have to read this again and I'm terrified. I should be writing this out because it's a release from bottling it up for years. It's a way to get it out of me somewhat. But this also makes my thoughts so real it's really hard to come to terms with. If anyone I know were to read this I don't know how I would feel. The unknown scares me so much. I'm reverting to my severe symptoms of ptsd again. I find myself sitting and staring off for like an hour before I realize I'm even doing it. Just so consumed with thoughts. I really hope this can help me. I need help. I never felt like I could be believed with what all he did to me. I actually still don't and that's why I am terrified you're reading this. If you've somehow made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my story. But a large part of me hopes you didn't read it this far I hope this helps and doesn't make me obsess over deleting it! sam
  11. 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 saying no over and over. I was 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, purposely putting his arms under my breasts and feeling me. 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!" Meaning it with everything inside of me though.. to both of them. 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 would orally assault me constantly. I guess it’s considered oral rape.. but he would just put his penis in my face and tell me to suck.i never wanted to. He was large also and I just never even liked giving oral to men...it made me feel so dirty. He recorded me once while I was doing it. Looking back. I think he recorded other things we did because his laptop was set up on a chair in front of where we always were and it was always open with the screen brightness turned all the way off. 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)." And that was the start of me feeling like I did not want to talk to him anymore.. I didn’t like the feeling of being controlled by someone. I didn’t want another person in my life controlling my life
  12. In 2011, I was not with N anymore. I was working a lot. 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. My grandma was able to travel a lot for free, perks for having a husband in the field. So they would go on vacation together sometimes to visit family or friends in Florida or Texas mostly. This particular time I was home alone while they were gone for about two weeks. After they were gone for about two days, I heard noises downstairs. Thinking it was our outdoor cat, a cousin, or maybe even my grandma home early sick, I went down my steps to see. When I reached the dining room, I saw someone at the counter moving toward the island touching things and I thought for sure it had to be family. But then he looked up at me and I remember freezing for what felt like way too long, or maybe everything was slow motion; I don't remember what he said to me. I had a bad feeling and I knew I needed to try to get away from him. This was terrifying. I will never forget the pure panic I felt. It makes it harder to open up about these specific things at this point because I realize some people wouldn't want to believe these things can happen. Or maybe he just made me think nobody would ever believe me no matter what. I don't really know. I am only just allowing myself to admit most things about this entire thing This house I lived in with my grandma and her husband was spacious and my neighbors weren't very close. We also didn't really lock the doors back then. And I actually didn't even think about it either... I just never..imagined. I knew I wasn't safe at my old high school. I never thought I wouldn't be safe from him in my own home. I thought he got what he wanted. All the paranoia of feeling watched felt real now. I instinctively screamed out of pure fucking horror. He was saying things but I couldn't really focus on what he was saying. I turned and ran back toward the stairs to my room (which was on the second floor, almost like a studio apartment room). I wanted my phone! I ran upstairs and he let me. Only to chase me with laughter. "I need a huge favor! You knew you'd see me again!" There was nowhere for me to go. I was looking for anything that I could use as a weapon. I had no idea what to do. My neighbors weren't close enough to hear me scream. But I was screaming for him to not kill me. I thought for sure that's why he came there. He grabbed me from behind, pulled and sniffed my hair. "Are you scared?" He shoved his hands in my pants, touching me and putting his fingers in me. He smelled like alcohol, which immediately reminded me of N. "Please don't do this to me, my grandma is coming home soon" "She can watch me ruin you!" I was trying to get away again, kicking, yelling at him to let me go. "Keep screaming, you're making me hard." I had two beds in my room and one was my guest bed on the other side of my room by this large window facing the large front yard. He threw me down onto that bed. Had something in his hand and I didn't know if he took it from his pocket or had it in his hands the entire time. They were scissors from our kitchen, and I thought for sure he was just going to start stabbing me so I mentally prepared for it. I closed my eyes as hard as I could and tensed everywhere. He put the cold blade against my skin, I screamed, and he started cutting my clothes off instead. He told me he could do whatever he wanted. Could have me when he wanted. He was in my house and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it. He told me I was pretty much his property. I remember how badly it hurt when he was pushing on my legs, like he could get them further apart by smashing them into the bed. He was always purposely rough I think because I really felt like he hated me. "I own you. You are fucking nothing." "I could just choke the life out of you. But then I wouldn't be able to do this." And he did actually choke me this time. I stopped listening to what he was saying eventually because he was being so obnoxious, very dominant. Simply because he could and he liked the power he had over me in my own space. I have no idea how long it lasted. At one point I remember him slapping me in the face "Hello? Take this" So out of defeat and hoping it would be over soon, I did what I was told to do. He gave me a pill. He continued doing things with me which I remember up until a point. This next bit is so hard to type. Fuck. The more I think about it, the more I realize how he wanted to scar me these ways. I really believe he wanted to ruin me. I think killing me would have been too easy for him; he wanted to torture and control me. I think these realizations are why I really avoid writing it. Thinking about it. I don't want to remember that rage and hatred. He rolled me over and pinned me completely down, I could not move. I was fucking freaking out. I feel like I am watching it all happen again He put my arms behind my back and leaned into my ear and whispered "Have you ever been fucked in your ass?" I remember trying with all my strength to try to wiggle him off of my back. I never ever thought...it never crossed my mind. I was screaming and sobbing and begging. "I'll do anything else you want. Please don't" And it was all what he wanted. "Don't freak out, you'll like it!" "NO" He ended up tying my hands with something "sshhh , stop. Calm down." He touched my body and then pushed my butt cheeks apart and said vulgar things about my body part. Then he started trying to put it in my bum. "You are too tight, I'm going to fucking rip you apart!" "Noo, Please!" (<I hear this every single day in my head; my own screams) "I'll never be able to get this in *spit*" After however long it seemed to be working easier for him. He was just jamming it in and all I could do was whimper because it hurt so badly. I couldn't form words because the pain was too much. It felt like he was using a knife. He kept saying things, but I didn't focus too much. The last thing I remember was being on my stomach and feeling very tired. The constant thumping of my body because of him was actually putting me to sleep. Maybe whatever pill he gave me kicked in. That's the last thing I remember there. I don't have the best memory of this next few days. I don't know if things are in order, what I am still missing, what fragmented memories I do have fit where; it's all still blurry and I really hope it stays blurry. One thing I remember was I was in the back of a car as it was moving. I was naked. I was going in and out. I remember it was dark out. Seemed like just blackness. Another, I started freaking out, having a panic attack at one point. I couldn't catch my breath and thought I was dying because he poisoned me or something. Another memory I have is in a room I didn't recognize thinking I was going to die, he brought me here to kill me. So many thoughts paralyzed me with fear here. I heard people, sometimes talking. Did he need help killing me? Couldn't do it on his own? I was in this room where there was only a bed, a blanket over the window, and a table. I remember being given more drugs in the arm with a needle. I wasn't terrified anymore and I guess I was more compliant, but I knew this was a situation I didn't want to be in, if that makes any sense. I wasn't restrained that I recall. People used me however they wanted to in this time I was here. I don't know how many there were. I remember two faces besides his, so I guess three people that I know of. I don't remember a lot of it, just random things I can't totally make sense of. Like showering, but not being able to stand so someone was cleaning my hair? I don't even know. Or humiliating details of being used by two men at the same time. I didn't have any sense of time because there was this thick blackout blanket thing over the window and I couldn't tell whether it was day or night. I knew my grandma was gone for days so she wouldn't even know I was gone until she came home. I thought I was going to be dead and thrown in the woods and never seen again. At least I wouldn't be home for my grandma to find though. And those were my constant thought scenarios when I was aware enough to think thoughts... At one point when I was more lucid (I was being cooperative for the most part), he asked me if I wanted to go home. I just didn't respond because I figured this was just another taunt to get me to crumble emotionally so he could get a fucking boner. "How badly do you want to get in the car and go? Badly enough to get on your knees and beg??" He shoved me onto the floor and told me to beg him. "You're such a w**re. Nobody could look at you and think you're not" He made me give him oral. He liked to tell me he owned me while doing these things. He told me I looked like a junkie, that's all anyone would think I was. "You have two options, you're crazy or you're a w**re. You can pass for both" "Do you think anyone cares about you enough to believe you? They'll laugh, you look pathetic." "Do you think anyone even realizes you're gone? They don't even notice." Like beating it into my head..He just kept moving my head the way he wanted until he was done. "Yea, swallow it all" He made me He wouldn't take his di*k out of my mouth until I did...Even though I was about to puke all over him. But I think guys like to see women gag on them. He choked me when I was done "I could squeeze the life out of you. No one would care to fucking look for you!" "But I'm having so much more fun doing this" He let go of my throat at some point. I was trying to breathe, sobbing. Imagining I was dead soon and wishing he would just do it sooner than later. I just felt so fucking done. Tortured. It was like he knew exactly how to break my spirit to turn me into what he wanted. He walked away from me, and I got scared he was getting a knife or something but he came back with a pill and some kind of liquor. "You want some candy" he shoved a pill in my mouth and told me to swallow. I gagged on the pill. He gave me that shot. I drank. He was singing "I want candy" which sends me into the fetal position whenever I do hear it now and again. I don't remember all of what followed. He told me I would like it. Everything gets very trippy around then. Everything I thought and felt just felt right. I don't really know how else to explain it. What I do remember my body began responding in a positive way to the things he was doing to me. Even though he was being very dominant, my body responded the way he wanted me to, without me wanting to! I remember thinking I needed to try to hide it as much as I could, but he caught on eventually. "Stop closing your eyes!" "Yea, see you like that. Moan!" The feeling of connecting shame and dominance with pleasure is hard to get past when you aren't a willing participant. I am not turned on by being used as a rag doll. But that night my body responded as if I was. I don't really know how to explain it... After what seemed like forever, he took me downstairs of this house. I was still completely naked. There were other people downstairs I remember seeing and this was humiliating. I felt like absolutely nothing. He jabbed my arm with a needle, and I welcomed the high. I felt relieved in that moment and for a bit after I guess. Pretty sure he took me to the car, the next memory I have is being naked in the backseat. Maybe a control thing as to why he kept me naked? Or I just didn't have any clothes since he cut them off of me before. I have no idea. I don't remember anything about getting home. I think he waited for me to come to, because I remember basically everything when I first got home. We were sitting in the idle car, he was smoking and I sat up but my right hand was tied to the door handle with a zip tie looking thing (black and thick). He threatened me a little more "Nobody will ever believe a drug w**re. You'll end up in jail for prostitution.You think anyone would believe you're not a w**re?" He opened the door I wasn't tied to and got in the back with me, "if you bite me I will choke you" and he put a mint in my mouth and he made me give him oral while he recorded it. He was so obnoxious with it I fucking hate these memories. He told me to swallow it again "don't pretend you don't like the way I taste." He got out and opened the door I was tied to and it pulled me out and down onto my driveway. I knew it was my house because of the Buddha garden decoration my grandma had by a tree in the yard. I don't know why I didn't scream here. I was so thankful just to be home. He put more drugs into my tied up arm, and then I remember not being tied up anymore. I remember being really cold. A snapshot memory of him carrying me over his shoulder. I don't remember much about how I got into the house or anything like that. I must have passed out. I woke up naked and in the bed he raped me in before. I had pissed on myself. I woke up in a panic. Wondering if I just had the worst nightmare of my life. Realizing I was naked and there were needle marks on me. I thought I was going insane. I genuinely spent hours trying to convince myself it couldn't have really happened. But the more I saw bruises and tracks, my bum hurt, there was also dry blood on my bed where he raped me anally before (how badly it felt I thought there would have been more blood). I realized somehow this was real. But it couldn't possibly be!! I was wondering how I let this happen to me again. How did I survive? Why did he let me live? And come back home? Why didn't he just kill me? I needed to call the cops. But I looked fucking insane rocking back and forth trying to figure out myself if what I think just happened, happened! I wouldn't be considered reliable I was sure. What day is it even? I got up to look for my phone. Couldn't find it at first (ended up finding it behind my tv stand). So I grabbed my laptop and it had been 6 days. I still had almost a week to be home alone. I went and locked all the doors and turned off all the lights. Showered in the hottest water because I still smelled like him and I needed it off. I laid down. But I didn't cry anymore. I think I was in shock. All I could remember was all the threats. How nobody believed he raped me before, why would they now? I eventually passed out. I'd wake up panicking every so often. Then passing out from pure exhaustion. Repeat. This went on for like 48 hours. I finally ate a banana (can't even stomach eating whole bananas anymore because it takes me back to this memory for some reason) and I had someone bring me some weed. I left the money in the mailbox while they dropped it in there because I was so paranoid about unlocking the doors or being seen. My body was sore. I wanted to try to forget. But I couldn't. So I smoked, took sleeping pills to sleep as long as I could. Still woke up panicking thinking someone was right there or choking me. It was horrifying. Worst time of my life. When my grandma came back into town, I avoided her. Told her I was sick in bed and although she did come in to see me, she didn't have to see most of me. I hid from her out of shame. I felt dirty. I felt like a w**re; what he told me I was. I didn't feel like I could look people in the eye anymore. When I felt like I looked decent enough, I needed to get my phone replaced. When I found it behind my tv eventually, the screen was cracked and I had some texts from a number I didn't recognize with a video of me giving oral...it said "mint blowies are the best" So I asked my grandma if she could take me to replace it. She took me. She wanted to go out for lunch and must have thought it was strange when I asked if we could just order and take it home. Which is what we did. She knew something was wrong with me, but she didn't press me after realizing I didn't want to talk. I am glad she didn't because I would have probably had a breakdown and he would have been right; I would have ended up in an institution. It was really awkward and hard but I just couldn't talk to her about it. I couldn't even look her in the eye. I couldn't even think straight. I don't think I could even form sentences with my thoughts after this incident. She probably thought I was on drugs. She offered to take me to Vegas with her when she was going a few months later, and I agreed to go because honestly it sounded like just what I needed. While I was in Vegas, an old acquaintance from high school (DS) reached out to me on a social media account. He was deployed in Afghanistan and started talking to me out of loneliness. I was lonely too. We talked about nothing but it made me feel like I existed for another reason than just being used. He was so far away I guess I felt comfortable developing a friendship with him. He didn't want to just have sex with me. I also didn't have to be with him in person, which it was hard for me to do and be present when it came to being around people because I carried so much shame with me. Every second of every day. But while this beautiful friendship with this guy was blossoming, I didn't realize my life was still under someone else's complete control until I did something drastic about it. I would get phone calls, sometimes saying things and sometimes not. I even received a call while I was in Vegas (we stayed with a family friend) and I remember trying so hard to not let anyone in the house hear me sobbing/hyperventilating because I was having panic attacks from the phone call. This particular time he told me he would be sending videos to my grandma and my parents. I would end up in tears only after some calls because some were worse than others; and the few times someone saw me I would just say it was an ex. I mean what could I even say? "Oh my god, I'm being harassed by this person who is torturing me and using me sexually?" I mean, I guess I wish it was that easy, but I was scared people would think I was delusional and insane. Send me to a psychiatric hospital. I didn't think anyone could possibly believe me. And because of stigmas I didn't think anyone would ever take me seriously if I did break down and end up in a hospital. People would just think I was incredible..I even still think that. I obviously didn't feel like I had a secure outlet to talk about this. I didn't feel secure enough to turn him/them in. I didn't even know who the others were. I felt invisible. I was also extremely paranoid. I became a little more self destructive. Drinking a lot. Experimenting with drugs. I also would starve myself. Sometimes for days. And if I did eat, most of the time it came back up. It was such a dark time.
  13. After high school, I'd seen him several times in random places. I felt watched. I thought I was paranoid, so I started avoiding going out altogether to avoid feeling crazy. N got an apartment and I moved in. 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. So I couldn't bare leaving the house in general. I carried a mace everywhere. I didn't even work at first, I was so scared. All of these things in which N made me feel worthless about eventually. He also invalidated my night terrors and said I was "faking them" "over exaggerating." So from that point on I trained myself to suffer in silence. Why would I want to fake something like that? I don't know. Maybe it is easy for people to think I am pathetic and unworthy of any kind of decency. Easy to use and use as a punching bag... Fast forward a little bit more, when N was dealing with some legal issues of his own, things were brought back up. I remember this conversation like it just happened. I was at my moms house and N came there to tell me the news. He sat down on the couch and told me he had something to tell me about his case. He told me how there was a witness who came forward to speak negatively on his character. Mind you, it had been over a year since the rape. But when he said his name, I completely shut down. Feeling intimidated all over again... N told me he would agree to the plea for the other side just so it didn't have to go to trial and have the possibility of witnesses (so I/we didn't have to see him). He told me he knew he was only doing it to fuck personally with us. So I was thankful for that in my own way (that he at least understood that this guy WAS intending to torture us anyway he could); but I also felt responsible, yet again, for everything going to shit. It was so hard to deal with. Why was he doing this? To punish N too? To show me he was still there, always? That he would never let me/us seem reliable?? Either way, I was shattered. I don't know if N deep down blamed me back then, but he pulled away from me. He had a lot of anger issues after this. It felt like he hated me sometimes. All I could do was blame myself. Everything WAS my fault. I've ruined it all. There was nothing N could do to redeem the case because of this guy, and there was nothing we could do to fight him because of who he was and how many people supported him. And around this time is the first time I found After Silence. It saved my life I think. I found connections there that would end up lasting a while and helping me through the roughest of times. I am forever grateful for that. But I ended up ruining a friendship that was very dear to me. She was there for me through the hardest of times. I think she remembers things like needle marks and me kind of being missing from getting back into contact with her sometimes when we ended up developing a closer friendship. She probably thought I was a delusional drug addict too, honestly looking back About six months after this botched case, N was working with a local paper to help with an article about our state's education system and how there was an issue with teachers resigning after inappropriate conduct. Then being hired easily back into neighboring districts; those districts didn't know of any misconduct because the info is sealed while it was being investigated. Of course his main motivation for this was because of my rapist ruining his case months before. Also, with him mentioning he resigned from a school before for a locker room incident. I never read this article when it was released; I didn't want to. N just told me that the guy who raped me had a bad temper and had been told to resign another time for losing his shit on students and slamming a chair near a student. I remember being horrified. Feeling betrayed that he was allowed to work in our school and take his rage out on me. Resigned from schools multiple times and was then allowed to be hired again. I actually felt like I didn't matter. I was heartbroken. It ended up getting worse when people I knew from high school rallied together to release an article just days after this article about the man who raped me, saying how he was an amazing "teacher and mentor" and how the previous article "exaggerated his character in a negative light." It also said the situation with my ex best friend R was a "rumor" and that she exaggerated the relationship to her peers. Which was wrong; I saw the texts! People saw things...she didn't make any of it up. If it was just a fucking "rumor" then why did he end up resigning, AGAIN?? There had to have been solid evidence of him misbehaving somewhere and I know I didn't have anything on him but my word nobody believed. This was what completely shushed me. I didn't think I could ever fight an entire school full of people who loved a teacher who told us he had a huge penis or joked about his sex life or sex in general! Like that alone should have made these students realize "hmmm maybe he is a little inappropriate..." but NO, I'm the fucking liar apparently!! I thought about providing the articles but I can't without the paranoia eating me alive and making me delete this, again for the 3rd, 4th time? So I am going to avoid it Anyways.. N and I ended up parting ways after he got violent with me a few times. He had a lot of problems after I ruined his life. He began drinking more and abusing drugs, and he began to take his anger out on me. He told me he wanted to see other people and after leaving me for a short time, he said he wanted me back. I didn't want him back though. I didn't want anyone. So this was another violent episode that was extremely triggering. N knows it was and has since apologized (but I mean it was fucked up). In short, he came to my moms house and dragged me out by my throat to his car and made me sit in there with him while he was drunk and threatening to hurt me if I didn't take him back. At one point saying (after he just choked me mind you) "Stop looking so scared of me! I'm not him. I could take you to the backseat and rape you like him, but I wouldn't do that! So stop looking so scared of me!" I never really understood why he felt he needed to go there and say that. Maybe he was triggered that I looked horrified of him like he imagined I looked the day I was raped, which I know he thought about often. I tried to stay as strong as I could and speak reasonably to him. I really don't remember how I got back inside of my moms house. After all of this, I didn't feel like I could talk about my past ever again, so I vowed to try to act like it didn't happen. Which worked for a while. I ended up becoming a little promiscuous. I lost my virginity to N and never had sex with anyone else. So after we broke up, I guess for some reason I decided to act out sexually. I had sex with multiple guys in a short amount of time. One of them for a while though. Not that it matters.
  14. I am so so sick of being scared to share my story. So I am putting it back up... 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... So I've finally managed to muster up some courage to write my story some. I hate that it's going to be so long. It's taken a lot out of me to start thinking about it all; but I felt like I had to try to write some of it down. Especially after having seen him recently, I cannot stop thinking about it. It's invading most of my thoughts and my sleep. I just want some relief. Maybe this can give me a little. Or at least I can sleep without clawing my arms. I'm sorry that it's detailed. I need to get it out. I need to let it be known what he is capable of. Since everyone seems to think he was/is perfect and never did anything truly wrong, red flag after red flag! Anyways! I'll start at the beginning of it all: 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 corner section of the campus. We also had our own set of high school teachers who taught in our building. One of them was someone everyone seemed to mesh with right from the start. He was well liked and respected, but soon into this school year I noticed he was inappropriate. He would make inappropriate jokes to make the teens laugh and even joke about his penis size. "Hung like a bull" was the joke. He joked about sex and masturbation, both male and female. He would talk about how he played the bass guitar and how strumming it was like playing with a clit. He also mentioned how he walked into the girls locker room by "accident" at a previous school he worked in. He literally told us he ended up resigning before they let him go. I guess he was so charming they gave him the courtesy to choose.. I have NO idea why he felt compelled to tell us this or thought it was okay to tell us this; or why everyone else was like "wow, those damn girls told on you!" Maybe it had something to do with the fact he thought he was invincible. And how he knew how to charm people into thinking he was something he was not...I always knew he was crossing the line (and he made me uncomfortable most of the time), but nobody else seemed to care or didn't act like they did. He really knew how to get into everyone's heads, especially the students. He knew exactly what to do and say to get people to trust him. Everyone I was surrounded by just adored him. It gives me chills as I type it. In hindsight, there were many things I see now that were so obviously inappropriate it makes my blood boil to think people didn't make note of it or care; especially after I told them what he did. Like when he would record all of us students on his personal video camera for what he called "Ohio State Pride". So it went like this, he would play music and have the students in each class dance while he recorded it. I know this sounds fucking crazy now as I realize it all again. I was 15, uncomfortable, and everyone else was so happy and excited about it all! Nobody saw this as weird. Other teachers knew and didn't bat an eye! I don't get it!! It makes my skin crawl. Another thing I randomly remember is the inappropriate things he would allow us to watch in his class. He showed a standup of Dane Cook. Which was funny but I remember being extremely uncomfortable when one of his jokes was about female masturbation. I felt gross watching it because the joke was about masturbating for women being similar to being a music dj with the turntables, and we all knew he was a dj. He also would play songs before/in between classes each day, I guess like a dj would. But sometimes I would notice he would play a song I had on my myspace account at the time; and I always felt dumb for thinking he was singling me out but I mean sometimes I would change it to things I didn't even care for just to see if he would copy me, and sure enough yes he did. It was like a conversation he was trying to have with me or something. I don't really fucking know. It's like he got some sick thrill out of it all. I really feel so dirty looking back on all these things that I didn't realize was so insane until allowing myself to think about it all now. It's definitely bringing up memories and those shameful feelings all over again A newer memory I have is him playing guitar during what must have been a study hall on a Tuesday we didn't have our college class because there weren't many people in this class. He was sitting at his desk playing guitar, and he started this guitar riff I immediately recognized because my mom always listened to older music with me. So I blurted out the title of the song. He looked at me and when I looked at him, I guess now I realize I sensed a connection being made. I remember feeling the need to look away from him because it felt intimidating. I know I felt awkward, and I now realize the feeling I felt in that moment was violated. He seemed really surprised I knew the song and after this he jokingly called me "Sharona" a few times randomly at times we were isolated. I figured it was because he was making a stupid inside joke about me knowing the song he played, but now that I have heard these lyrics as a grown woman, I feel truly violated. I never really understood the lyrics as a 15 year old and now I really truly feel so violated! Even more now! I feel like maybe he was making some kind of innuendo. Now some of the things make a little more sense to me. Maybe he really did think I wanted him too.. Laughing at his joke about this maybe he thought I was condoning his interest? Maybe he really thought I was interested in him sexually. These realizations make me fucking sick and so ashamed. I know I told him "no," but I still can't help but feel like now he had the wrong ideas at some points. Anyways, he never gave me any crazy extra attention that he didn't give to everyone else. He offered to help me with projects and things, but he offered that to others. He never groomed me by trying to get to know me or anything at all like that; I also never took his bait as far as wanting to stay after school with him or ask him for help with things. Looking back though, I can recall him grooming what was my best friend at the time (R). Like wanting to get together with her after school and "hang out" she told me. They would text and talk on the phone; she showed me messages so I know it was true. I told her all that was weird and she should never do that. All that time, I thought he was going to try and have sex with her or something. From what she told me though the last time we spoke (a long, long time ago), they never did anything like that. She said he was never sexually inappropriate with her. Which makes me question whether she was honest with me or if he just saw me as weaker, easier prey. But I mean, wouldn't she have been easier prey since she was actually interested in him? I don't really get it. I remember an instance of getting off the bus in my neighborhood and seeing him in a car near my street and thinking that was strange... But I acted like I didn't see him and went home. I thought it must have been a coincidence. Soon after, he tried to touch me when we had to be alone at school. I was asking a question about a project, and he touched my thigh. It was in the way he touched it though, it made me feel dirty. Grown men don't touch teenage girls bodies do they, especially their thighs? He moved Closer to my privates than to my knee, and I knew that wasn't right. That was personal space I felt like. I never had any other teacher put their hands on me this way. All I did was ask a question. But then I felt dirty. He also MADE me stay after class to ask this question. Remained "busy" until about everyone but one person left the room. By the time I finished my question, we were alone. I felt like I had done something wrong after he did this though. I remember feeling wrong MYSELF. Why? I don't know. I just feel like, looking back, everything he did was so methodical it's driving me crazy!! Or he just had stupid fucking luck! One time he made a comment about my eyes. "Your eye color is very interesting. I've never seen eyes that color. Very pretty" But I hate this memory so much. It reminds me of looking into his eyes. It feels so violating and intrusive and it was one of the least intrusive things he did do to me. I don't know why it bothers me so much but it does. Now anytime anyone comments on my eyes I get chills and shakes; feeling the panic build. I don't even want my eyes sometimes! After this I remember two instances of him touching me and obviously coaching me sexually. I am not ready to write about these things. But I think his plan was to manipulate me by making me like the touching and oral he was doing to me (even though I didn’t want any of it, I froze because I was intimidated and horrified it was even happening), so he could ease his way more and more. But I didn’t want to ever have his penis in me! I never ever wanted that! Moving into the next school year, I remember how much he wanted to be our junior year history teacher. Fortunately, he didn't and we ended up having more classes in the main high school building. As I was visiting one of my freshman teachers in the college building on campus, he seized his opportunity to get me alone again. He asked this teacher if he could see me a minute, and this teacher told him to write me a pass to my next class. He wanted me to help him carry equipment from his car to his classroom. I didn't understand why he didn't just ask a male student who was stronger, or a group of students. Obviously he wanted to isolate me and I was easy prey I guess. Naive. Inexperienced. I helped him for some stupid reason. He had authority over me, and I was manipulated time and again by him because of this. I just never thought anything too uncomfortable could happen at school. It seemed way too far fetched. There was only a moment, which I couldn't react quickly enough, where he leaned into my face and I froze. He kissed me, like a peck half on my lips and cheek. Mainly because I instinctively jerked away a little. "Thanks for the help, I owe you one" and he winked at me. I didn’t really understand why he didn’t try more. The previous encounters Involved a lot more... but like I said at school I just didn’t see how it could really happen unless we were in his locked room after hours again. However, I knew I wanted to avoid being alone with him from now on. He made my stomach turn. It's like my being knew how sadistic he was deep down. His presence actually made me uneasy after this. Now that I look back on it, this is when I started suffering chronic nausea. Probably my anxiety having to be around him. I remember him doing other small things during school. Like one time I was walking past his classroom to get to another class when I ignorantly made eye contact with him and he licked his lip and bit it. He looked me up and down and made me feel sick.. I didn't really know even back then how to word it to tell anyone these things. I started skipping school a lot more. I had a close male friend this school year (N), and seeing that my female best friend was infatuated with this fucking creep, I didn't feel like I could open up to her about how uncomfortable he made me feel. Plus, I tested the waters with her by mentioning something small before and she seemed to get really defensive for him (It was the time he commented on my eyes). How he could never do anything inappropriate... He must have just been giving a genuine compliment, I do have pretty eyes blah blah blah. I didn't really know what to do. I felt intimidated that even the girl he was so obviously trying to get close to didn't even see anything wrong with his actions. She seemed to actually get mad at ME for being weirded out about him. Even when I mentioned him telling us about sex games he played in college. Am I fucking crazy for thinking he shouldn't have been going there?? I mean I don't get it... So I ended up hinting to N that this teacher was a little odd. Putting feelers out for his reaction. Instead of bringing up my own personal experiences, I flaked out of embarrassment and told him about the close relationship he was creating with my best friend. He told me that wasn't normal and I should tell her how I felt about it. So I did tell her I didn't like how he was trying to manipulate her, and our friendship fell completely apart. She of course was all about taking his side. N and I became closer after this and actually ended up dating senior year. I guess now that I think about it, I know R must have opened up to that teacher about what I did tell her about him; and that was that he was creepy, manipulative and putting feelers out for teenage girls. I am guessing he loathed my interpretation of him. Someone once mentioned he was intimidated by me not being manipulated by him back then and that made him want to silence me even more. Someone else also mentioned that he was offended I didn't respond The way he wanted me to respond to his sexual advances, and I didn't because I was more attracted to Females in school rather than some teacher (which my confusing attraction to women was why I never dated anyone before N). Before N and I dated, he actually had a friendly relationship with this teacher. There was a school band that this teacher created and N was one of the lead singers.They even have a video on youtube, but I can't and won't look for it. At first I thought it was cool. R was in the group too and with N knowing a little inside of the relationship between her and the teacher, he noticed things others didn't about their relationship that made him uncomfortable outright. He was not one to keep quiet, so this is where the embarrassment for this teacher started. N would make puns and things to call the teacher out. When N told me about these things, I guess I started to feel like I could say some of the things that made me uncomfortable when it came to this guy; just telling him he made me uncomfortable at first. Then I told him about the way he touched my thigh and asked me to help him carry a bass guitar to his classroom and kissed my face. N flipped out. He was so pissed. Pissed enough to react personally to him. (If only he knew about the times he had tried to put his penis in me, I wonder how bad things would have been in school?) He also told a school administrator his family knew to look into this teacher and his misconduct. I think this was the deciding factor for this guy to torture me any way he could out of rage and retaliation. We had empty classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays since our college classes were Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. We usually had teachers as monitors of those rooms. So I still had to see this guy sometimes even though he was a sophomore teacher. There was a specific instance where this teacher got his hair cut, and N asked him, in front of tons of other students, if it was his "state cut" which I guess is a slang term for the haircut you get when you first go to prison. He didn't like that at all. And from then on, they just went back and forth. One time I remember this teacher telling us all he was getting married to a woman who used to be his student. When he said it he looked right at N and said "in case anyone wanted to start a rumor, there, I was the one who told you all." I remember thinking, how is it a rumor if it's actually true? Also, another red flag for everyone, but instead everyone thought he was so cool and honest. I almost want to talk to every student who witnessed these things and ask them NOW if they think he was inappropriate? Because today I feel like he would have been fired quick! Why did everyone fucking like him? Why, in the end, was I still the one who was looked at as making things up?? After all the suspicious things he did and said. Yet he was still golden. The last straw though between this teacher and my boyfriend was when N called him a b*tch after another argument and walked out of this class we had where he was the "monitor" of the room. It plays slow motion in my mind even now thinking about it. I watch him jump up after N and run out of the classroom, and my heart was pounding so loud it was all I could hear. I guess this turned out to be a huge fight in the office with a lot of name calling. N called him a pervert, pedophile. N was of course suspended, and I was on my own. This lead to me being cornered by him. "Are you obsessed with me? Why are you telling lies? I wouldn't do that. Anyone will just see a teen with a crush." That made me feel so dirty. Made me question if I had done anything to make anyone ever think I had any kind of crush on him, because I didn't. I was honestly crushing on women back then and still in denial about that. I felt really tiny, embarrassed and unseen. So alone and unsure what to do next. I wished our school had cameras because I could have had something to show them he cornered me; what other reason would he have to do that besides threatening me? To prevent another freak out from N though, I didn't tell him this. Within weeks, when N wasn't at school (I now know he was an alcoholic, he didn't come to school a lot of mornings) this teacher had tricked me and forced me to his car in the student parking lot and raped me. Totally broke my spirit. I had dreams before this. This crippled me with fear and shame, I was stuck. I don't know if this was his intention all along, to break my soul. Or if he decided this in his rage against me with telling N he was inappropriate and all the fallout afterwards. Maybe the humiliation he felt was what he wanted me to feel times ten after all this? I don't know. That's a thought I've gathered when I think about why he did all this to me. I question this all the time. I obsess over it, honestly. He had a mission and it was to fucking torment me. Maybe even eventually kill me if I tried more to turn him in, or if I didn't abruptly leave the state. Who even knows. I didn't ever think that was where all the awkward encounters would have led me. Never.
  15. I have desperately tried to take responsibility for my own life and be perfect, and deal with my issues in private. But I had a breakdown... Now my parents see me for the wreck I am. God, now "I" see myself for the wreck I am. They think I'm a mental case that does not put faith in God enough anymore. They say I'm an alcoholic and cannot fathom why I would ever want to slice my flesh like that, or threaten to take my life. They shake their head at me as if I am some sort of disappointment. They don't stop to think that... Maybe beating a child for years could cause her to lose her mind. Maybe that beaten child would possibly fall into the arms of another grown man at 15, a high school teacher that she thinks she can confide in. And HE would be the one to show her a false sense of love by molesting her for several years. That maybe when she gets frustrated with the frequent beatings, constant molestation, and forced display of perfection... she might decide to spread her wings as a teen and rebel. Then, maybe another grown man, who claims to be a man of God, would see her rebellion at 22, and to teach her "a lesson" by sadistically drugging & raping her and taking her virginity, making her feel like no one else would want her this way. Maybe she would grow up hurting because her own parents told her she should be ashamed for having let that man of faith make her unclean before God, by being rebellious and tempting him with what she wore. Maybe that her dating other religious men she thought would be better, would also rape and scar her too. Maybe realizing that the man you gave your blessing to, wasn't as perfect as he portrayed himself to be, and would beat her in private too. But that doesn't matter, because she's used to it anyway... that's just what happens. Maybe coming to understand that she's not just being spiritually weak in the faith... but is frustrated with God and religion after seeing her father a religious leader, get away with beating her, then another man of God get away with raping her, her boyfriends and fiancee beat and rape her too, and other elder men of faith sexually harassing her over the years. Maybe just maybe, that's why she's quiet and isn't as zealous in religious functions like she used to be. God.. I'm just so tired of having to be the perfect one that needs to work on myself, when everyone else gets a free pass in my life. I know this is my life and I have to put in the work to get better. But why do I have to feel like a bad person, because I had a mental breakdown and am having trouble coming out of it? Can't they see the years of hurt and pain and secrets that made me this way? The people that hurt me, and haven't had to work on themselves, but I do? They have carried right on with their own lives. But then again, maybe it is my fault because I was too scared to tell or report anyone. I still am. It doesn't even matter anymore. The things I am dealing with are my burdens to carry alone. Why do I even expect anyone to understand? They never did and never will.
  16. i need to stop drinking. but with that comes the nonstop words that haunt my soul for eternity; can you save my heavydirtysoul? compiling all of this over all this time and realizing all of the things he said to break me; it is comforting to know I am free of him physically. This is what I can remember from 5-6 years of off and on abuse from the same horrible, sadistic person repeatrepeatrepeatrepeatrepeatrepeatrepeat his words - "Your eye color is very interesting. I've never seen eyes that color before, very pretty." - "Hey blue eyes, I need your help." -“you look nervous. You don’t have to be nervous” -“have you ever been alone with a guy?” I’ll never forget this one, it was when I was sure he was a pervert. I finally knew it wasn’t just my gut feeling being irrational. Which led to him asking: -“have you ever kissed?” and then, -“have you ever been touched under your clothes?” -“do you like how that feels?” -“if you relax, it will feel good” -“you can look at me” but it felt like a demand not an option -“I have a surprise” he put his mouth on me. I’ll never forget the sounds... the shock I felt. He wanted me to like things so I would want to do more... 🤢 -“Here, I’ll show you” he put my hand on his penis and told/showed me what to do... I hate the memory of first seeing his penis because i had never seen a penis so close before and it shocked me and he commented on my wide eyes and commented on his penis size again 😢 -“You shouldn’t tell anyone about this. Someone might get jealous and start rumors” -“Ohh you’re here to finish what you started?” -“if anyone knocks, hide there” pointing to a spot under a desk where there was cardboard covering from the top of the desk to the floor, completely hiding what would be under the table. -“it feels like you’re ready” *laughs* - "Are you obsessed with me? Why are you telling lies? i wouldn't do that. You're just some 'teen' with a 'crush' " - "come with me" - "Can we talk? I just want to talk for a minute" - "Stop moving" - "Why do you look so confused? I thought this is what you wanted. You wont shutup about it" - me: "What are you doing? You can't do this!" him: "Sssshhhh, I can" -“you’re being a tease” - me: "Why are you doing this to me?!" him: - "Because you want it. You're begging for it. You've always been begging for it." -“see? You’re ready for me. Just let it happen. Don’t fight what your body wants” -me: “no I don’t want to do this part” He was coaching me along “stop acting like that, you’ll like it, it’ll feel nice” I said I didn’t want that in me and he said “you want to o*, just let me show you” and he put it in and it hurt so I said “ouch that hurts” “you will get used to it, just relax” I cried “no take it out!” “no it doesn’t hurt. You just need to relax” so I just stopped talking and tried to relax my body but I couldn’t - "Get on top" - "Turn around and ride me" - "Do you like that?" - "Open your eyes. Look at what you're doing!" - "Were you a virgin? Did I just pop your sweet cherry?" - "Ahh, don't get dressed! We were having so much fun" “we will have to do this again soon, I need another piece of sweet, tart cherry pie” 🤮 this one is one if the hardest ones I’ll probably have to delete it - me: "Can I please go??? I wont tell anybody.." him: "I KNOW" - "Hey, I hope your boyfriend likes the way I taste!" - "I need a huge favor" - "You knew you'd see me again" - "Are you scared?" - "Keep screaming. You're making me hard" - "She can watch me ruin you!" - "Lay down" - "I can do whatever I want to you." "I can have you when I want." "I am in your house and there's nothing you or anyone else can do about it." - "I own you. You are fucking nothing!" - "I could just choke the life out of you!" - "Have you ever been fucked in your ass? Don't freak out, you'll like it." - "I'm going to fucking rip you apart" - "Do you want to die?" - "Do you want to go home? How badly do you want to get in the car and go? Badly enough to get on your knees and beg?" - "You're such a w**re! Nobody could look at you and think you're not" - "Yea, swallow it all." - "I could squeeze the life out of you. Nobody would notice you're gone or care to fucking look for you!" - "You want candy!" - "Stop closing your eyes!" - "Don't pretend you don't like the way I taste" - "I have videos of you being a w**re. You look so happy. I can send them to your grandma? Your mom? They'd love to know you're making porn." - "You need more than some spray." - "I'm going to fucking kill you now!" - "Get in, get in." - "Yea scream louder, I like it. Nobody can fucking hear you!" - "Save your energy, I need it" - "Look how wet you are, you're so ready!" - "You want this di*k. Tell me how much you want it" - "Oh, now you like it. I knew you'd like it eventually sl*t. Tell me you like it!" - "Squirt on me!" - "You will never cum again without thinking of me." - "You will try to forget but you never will." - "People are going to recognize you. Nobody will want you now for sure" -"Is this what you wanted?" -"You want to ruin people's lives?" "I like ruining people's lives too" -"Oh you're so beautiful when you cry. Keep crying. Just like that." I tried to stop crying but I couldn't. -"You get goosebumps when I touch you." -"Just imagine you're alone and cum" "Here drink this" I just did whatever he asked me to do -"So you like fucking two guys at the same time? Now you will really know what it's like to fuck two at the same time" hahahahahaha -"He wants to fuck you too." "You've been bad so this is what you get now" All I said was "ok" -him: "You're not done paying your dues." me: "What?" him: "It's pricey when you try to ruin someone's life." -"I'm not hurting you"
  17. How could I have been so naive? How could I allow someone to manipulate me so much? I feel worthless. I'm so alone. I feel annoying everywhere. To everyone. I'll have this shame inside me forever. My chest actually hurts because I just feel the loneliness and shame breaking my heart. I find myself seeing others with family or people talking about family or friends and my heart hurts so badly because I just long for it so much. I long for someone to see me and tell me I matter to them, too. I wish I knew what to do to change this feeling. I'm reverting back to bad coping mechanisms; which I guess is bingeing, fasting, drinking. I don't want to do this. But I feel so alone. I don't have one person I feel like I can truly open up to without feeling annoying. I wish I could feel connected. I'm depressed. I never think about suicide for me personally, but I have been thinking about suicide as a topic in itself. I feel so hopeless about ever being happy but I don't think about dying anymore. NOBODY CARES. I am nothing. A nobody. With an unbelievable story. A ghost. Was he right all along and that's why he chose to use me? I was weak? I was nothing? Still am those things I guess. I try not to let him write my life story; but I feel beaten down. I want to feel like I matter. I have always been unworthy to be seen by my parents, most family, friends. I have always tried to be there for everyone in my life and nobody is there to even ask me how I am. I feel like people only talk to me when they want something. So I feel used. Like I have always felt. I feel haunted by him more often than not. The things he said, he spoke them to life it seems. I am nothing Who could care about me? Would anyone really care if I was gone? No Where is everyone now? I own you. You will never forget. You will try, but you never will. And he is right. I cant forget. No matter how hard I try. He has ruined sex for me. He has completely obliterated any thought I have about pleasure. I never had a living sex life before the first rape. And the promiscuity I did experiment with was when I was 19, and so were the guys I was having sex with. So they were young and inexperienced and I never really orgasm-ed with them. I did orgasm with N a few times, but I was young and inexperienced and I didn't know what exactly had happened entirely to reach that each time. The only memories that I think of when it comes to pleasure are the rapes.. Because I orgasm-ed. It is humiliating. Extremely frustrating. I had no idea what I was doing, but it seemed to me maybe he knew what he was doing and that's what makes me so ashamed. Because even now I am aroused thinking about it. But it just is what it is...it happened. I can't undo it. So now if I orgasm or squirt, it is very humiliating for me. Every orgasm is met with a "no" aloud and I can't stop it. It is etched into my brain. Forever. I avoid squirting but on a rare occasion it will happen and I end up physically ill from it. Especially because whoever it happens with gets very excited and fixated on it, like he did. It's happened with DJ once and I tried so hard to not do it. It also happened when I was pregnant a few years ago. Now I am constantly edging a full orgasm because I don't want to accidentally do it again. He really ruined me. And I am sure he meant this. He intended this hell for me. I don't know how to not think about it. I have no idea what to do. I feel completely ruined. I don't know how to talk to anyone about this so I guess writing it is my only outlet. It is so embarrassing is it always like this??
  18. Hello, I'm really unsure where to start. I've sought "help" before on hotlines, crisis centers etc only to be left feeling hopeless and frustrated. I've never gone to therapy after my assault. I've never told anyone what happened to me. I'm not sure if I ever will. I have no friends anymore (moving around too much). My family will never know. I have pretty bad PTSD but its been slightly better since I moved away from my old place where it occurred. Anything I write on here will be extremely vague due to him stalking and harassing me, that paranoia will always be there whether or not he's actively looking for me. I know I've been struggling a lot ever since it happened but I don't really have many options currently. I've seen the immense change in me, the feral animal I feel like I've become. I've isolated myself from people ever since it happened because I feel completely disconnected. I know I absolutely got through the worst on my own, the intense daily fear, panic attacks once a day, extreme paranoia, always checking doors, locks, windows, closets, parking lots, cars. Everything scaring the hell out of me. Checking everywhere. I still experience all of that but its way more manageable and not as suffocating now. My entire existence crumbled. I took too many days off of work and got myself into a constant cycle of debt. Every day is hard but unfortunately I don't have a choice and must keep on living. My life is a fake plastered on smile and constant distractions so I wont dwell on how terrible my life has become. I'm tired of it but this is how it is for now.
  19. I am new here. I was SA in February of this year, I am greatful to have this site. --+++Trigger warning++++++ It was done by a guy I was seeing and his cousin... +++++end of sensitive part... (I am not positive I did that right) Anyway...I have been really struggling with sleep, seems the memories all come when I'm trying to sleep. I have began SI behavior which I've done in the past. I am struggling with friends and family, its like the things I used to love, I don't want to do anymore. I have been keeping so much in and don't really have anyone who understands. Sometimes I feel like I'm a burden on friends because this is something I think about wayyyy too much. Just feel so alone...
  20. Even though it has been four years There are days where I can still feel his rough hands on me I said no I said no But he didn't stop His bitter words echo in my mind Over and over again. It's been four years The memories of him Won't leave There are days Where I ask why Why did he cause me So much pain? "You'll forget all about it" They tell me They have no idea What absolute terror is always looking over your shoulder all the time. The memories of him That won't leave you alone They have no idea What absolute terror is The pain I endured when he shoved me So hard that I lost two teeth How much I hate my smile Because of him. They have no idea Of what I went through How I don't trust anyone because of him. Because of the trauma by him I'm shattered yet I'm holding on. I'm shattered yet I'm holding on.
  21. Shut up. ------------------------------- Stop it, stop squirming. ------------------------------- You feel that? ------------------------------- Daddy likes you. ------------------------------- Did you start your period? No. Good. ------------------------------- I wish I could make you pregnant. ------------------------------- Finish for me. Good girl. -------------------------------
  22. I have a memory that I'm scared is real. I'm not sure. I have a snippet of me lying down, my head raised up to look, and I see my naked lower half with my legs spread and him pulling his penis out. It has some cum at the end of it and looks slightly wet. His gut fills the top half of the frame. I feel like my body is lying on top of something, because my vagina was at the perfect height for his hips and groin. Maybe a shelf? I'm not sure. I'm nervous that it's real
  23. Thanks for taking advantage of me. All I ever wanted was a self deprecating identity. Thanks for using your authority against me. All I ever wanted was a distrust in community. Thanks for raping me. All I ever wanted was a distortion of my sexuality. "Baby, baby, baby," That's all I ever heard when you treated me like some novelty.
  24. Well, it’s Wednesday. I’m tired today. I was up late last night and early this morning and I’m ready to go back to my cozy bed and sleep away the rest of the week. Honestly, I haven’t blogged because there’s been nothing to blog about. Everything in my life is just heavy right now. There’s been little good and lots of bad and I just want to post something worth reading. That likely won’t happen today. I guess this blog will be a catch-up session. Since the last blog I posted was about my suicide attempt, I feel I owe everyone an update. I DID post a different blog after that one, but I decided to take it down. It was just…. too dark. I knew no one really wanted to read that. Even if someone DID want to read it, it wasn’t my best writing and I was ashamed that I even posted it. Although it wasn’t the best blog, it was pretty accurate in describing how I’ve been feeling lately. It’s hard to post about anything other than the big things that are right in front of my face. It’s like my feelings are in front of me jumping up and down, waving their arms, and screaming at me to acknowledge them. I’m not entirely sure how to get them to just shut up and leave me alone. So, I posted about it. It didn’t help and I felt bad about it, so I took it down. I’m sorry to anyone that read it. Today, though, will not be about my feelings. In a way, I suppose it will, but overall, I intend to just let you know what’s been going on. Maybe this will help ME in the process. We’ll see I’ve had 2 sessions since the session where I hugged The New Guy. The latter of those session involved The Wife, but the first one did not. This did upset me a little. I had told her a few days prior to the session about the suicide attempt and we talked about it. I also asked her if she would be at that session and she told me yes. So you can imagine my disappointment when I got there and found out she wouldn’t be joining us. That session was…hard. The New Guy started a new program with me that’s supposed to keep me from going to an inpatient facility. We started paperwork on that. I had to use a lot of scales and rate my feelings. On a scale of 1-10, how likely was I to kill myself or, on a scale from 1-5 how much did I hate myself. Then I had to write down my reasons for living and my reasons for dying. I had to tell him what I would do if I was trying to kill myself. Where I would go, what method I would use, what time I would do it. That was hard. This session took about an hour and a half to complete. It wasn’t the easiest session I’ve ever been in, but I was hoping it was productive. I started thinking about things after leaving and realized that I don’t think I was totally honest in some of the numbers I put down. I was terrified that if he knew how bad it was, he would still make me go inpatient. He said he wouldn’t, but…. I was still afraid. I didn’t trust him. He asked if I had a plan to kill myself. My first response was “I’m supposed to say no to that.” I don’t know why I said it – it just kind of came out. My other T has always told me that she wouldn’t make me go inpatient and she wouldn’t call the police as long as I didn’t have a plan. So, to me, plan = inpatient. I was trying to avoid that. After I blurted that sentence, I told him that I didn’t have a plan. He didn’t believe me. He kept saying I needed to be honest. I told him I didn’t have one. Then he seemed to get a little angry – he really didn’t believe me. After that is when he asked me to describe what it would look like if I DID have a plan. I’m not positive, but I’m guessing he put that I did and had me describe everything to him. I don’t know that for sure though. I told him the next day that I didn’t feel I was honest enough with my numbers and he said it was fine. I asked if I could change them and he said no. He said we would work with what we had and if I wasn’t going to commit to it, he would find me a hospital to go to. So, I said okay and left it at that. During the session, the paperwork had me create a stabilization plan. This plan was supposed to help keep me from cutting and also help me combat the suicidal thoughts/tendencies. It has worked for the most part. It’s just when I get super overwhelmed or when I don’t deal with the thoughts immediately, they add up and I end up hurting myself or getting close to another attempt. Which is what happened last night. I’ll get to that later. The next session I had with him was this past Saturday. I asked The Wife if she would be there and again, she said yes. And she actually was there this time. Things felt off from the very beginning. It may have partially been because I REALLY wasn’t wanting to go. I felt like The New Guy was upset with me about a conversation we had earlier in the week, and I felt like The Wife really just doesn’t like that she has to be there. I thought it would be much easier to not go. But, I went. The New Guy showed up almost 10 minutes late which made me feel MORE like a burden. Like he had other things he needed or wanted to be doing and I was just taking up too much of his time. I eventually went in and the room we usually have sessions in was filled with all kinds of boxes and things and wasn’t usable. So, we relocated to a different room. The new room we went to was one we had used for a session before, so I was okay with that. It felt comfortable enough. But for some reason, there was a smell. It wasn’t abhorrent, but it wasn’t pleasant. I kind of smelled like stale air and mildew, but it wasn’t too strong. It was bearable. Well, it was bearable for ME. The New Guy seemed okay with it too but The Wife… not so much. She wasn’t a fan. We decided to relocate again. At this point, we were running out of rooms that had the amount of privacy we needed. We ended up going upstairs to a cold room with dim lighting. There was no table, so we grabbed some chairs and sat in an awkward circle. My appointment was supposed to be at 3:00pm but the by the time The New Guy got there and we found somewhere to go, it was about 3:20pm. I only had 40 minutes and I knew he had someone scheduled at 4:00pm. Now I was feeling rushed because of how much time was wasted, I felt bad that The Wife was so uncomfortable with the other room because of the smell, I was uncomfortable because I thought The New Guy was upset with me or just flustered in general, I felt weird in the new environment and I was ready to go. I was set up for a bad session. I wrote a blog one time called Misconceptions of a Wandering Mind and in that blog, I talked about overthinking. I am an AVID overthinker. I read way too much into things, I try to find hidden meanings behind things that are said to me, I overthink assignments because the perfectionistic part of me doesn’t want to do anything wrong, and I always worry about what other people are thinking about me. You can imagine how this plays into my sessions and makes me more nervous. The New Guy has a way of asking questions that I don’t always know how to answer. The way he phrases things… I just never know what to say or how to answer him. I often times tell him that ‘I don’t know what kind of answer he’s looking for,’ and he will tell me that he’s not looking for anything specific, he just wants me to answer honestly. It’s just that I don’t always understand the questions. With my fear of being wrong, these questions often render me completely speechless and cause me to freeze. It makes for a lot of awkward time during sessions. So, we jumped right into the next part of the program we are doing. Session number 2. He starts asking about my attachments to other people. He asks me to describe what my relationship with my family looks like. I didn’t really know what he meant, and he asked me to start listing things I liked about my family and things I disliked. He had me grab a pen and paper and write this all down. I went on to write things about friendships, and other relationships in my life. This sounds like such a simple task when I write about it here, but my overthinking brain was on overdrive and I was struggling with this. The New Guy eventually says “this was meant to be easy. This isn’t a hard thing to do,” and I said I understood, I just didn’t know what to write. I could tell he was frustrated with me. I started shutting down. I was just trying to wait out the time until 4:00 so I could get out of there. The New Guy says we’ve hit a barrier and he doesn’t know what’s going on or where the resistance was coming from. I finally told him that I thought he was upset or mad at me and I didn’t know how to do the assignment and I was having hard time doing it right. He says he’s not upset, but his tone said otherwise. He said there was no evidence to show that he was mad and he didn’t know why I thought that because he clearly wasn’t. He just didn’t understand what was going on. The Wife chimes in and said there had to be evidence or I wouldn’t feel the way I was feeling. She asked if it was a tone or the way someone was sitting. I didn’t answer. I just looked down while I was crying. I didn’t know what to do. I was thankful she took my side though. The New Guy lets out a sigh, adjusts his sitting position, and says a bunch of things that I don’t hear. We start wrapping up and he asks me another question. I honestly don’t remember what the question even was, I just remember saying “I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know. I just don’t know.” The Wife kind of laughed but I wasn’t laughing. I said “I know you’re going to be mad because I’m just saying I don’t know, but I don’t know how to answer that question. I don’t know what you want me to say. I just don’t know what you’re looking for.” I had hit my breaking point. My words were more forceful that I intended, but I was done. I couldn’t keep feeling that way. He went on to say a lot of things but I was so dissociated that I have no idea what he said. He finally said, “are you hearing me?” and I responded with a slight nod even though I really didn’t hear anything at all. He gave me homework and I agreed to do it. I was saying whatever I could say just to get out of there. I left the building, got in my car, and I broke. I was sobbing uncontrollably. I felt like such a disappointment and I felt so defeated. I never wanted to see either of them ever again. I stayed in the parking lot crying for a solid half hour. When I was finally able to catch my breath, I tried to calm myself down so I could move on. I had a couple of errands to run so I put my headphones in, blasted some music, and got my errands done. The rest of the day was hard. I cried a lot. I was inconsolable. I got home and laid down. I was so low. My heart was broken and I felt like I was letting everyone down. I drew a bath, grabbed a blade, and headed to the bathroom. I closed the doors and sat in the tub contemplating the very existence of my being. What was the point in trying anymore? Things just kept getting worse. Obviously, I didn’t die that night or I wouldn’t be here typing this out. I wanted to though. I wanted to say goodbye and wish this life away because I didn’t see the point and living with all of this pain any longer. I got out of the bath, toweled off, threw on a t-shirt and got in bed. I was drained. I took my meds and went to sleep. The days following have been fuzzy. It doesn’t seem like it’s only Wednesday. It feels like that was weeks ago and I’m just missing the time in between. Luckily, tomorrow is Thursday and I can see my other T and release all of this. Last night was another hard one. I really don’t want to get into the details of what happened last night because I am embarrassed and ashamed. I feel disgusting. I was so upset last night after it happened. I let it happen because I didn’t care about myself – I just wanted to feel SOMETHING. I was so numb. I felt worse afterwards. I felt like I had no one I could talk to and nothing would make me feel better so I did the only thing I knew how to do – the only thing I thought would make me feel better and make me feel less numb. I grabbed a blade and headed to the bathroom. I didn’t draw a bath this time. I simply lifted my shirt and the side of my underwear and started sliding that sharp, silver blade across my right hip – my favorite cutting spot. I suppose it was because I was cutting over old cuts, but the bleeding was the worst it’s ever been. Those that are cutters know that when you cut, the blood makes dots in a line across where you’ve made the incision. For me, it pools, but never too much no matter how deep I go. This time was different. It was bleeding profusely. It beaded in a line like normal, but it just started dripping down my leg so quickly. I could see the blood pouring out and it was trailing down my leg onto my foot. It was scary. I’ve never bled so bad before. The cuts didn’t even seem that deep, I barely felt them. I’m not sure if I was just THAT numb, or if it was because I was cutting over old cuts that made it bleed so much. I cleaned up the cuts and the rest of my leg. My paper towels were soaked with blood. I put a band aid on and disposed of the saturated towels. I put my blade back up in the safe place and went to bed. I was so alone, so tired, and just so broken. Everything in my life feels so dark right now. I can’t see the way out of this hole that I’m in. I keep saying I’ll try harder, but I don’t know HOW. I’m doing everything I know to do. I’m trying my best. I’m trying to put in the work but I’m just not getting better. It’s exhausting feeling this way. Being constantly trapped in your own mind with negative thoughts that won’t stop. I know this blog hasn’t been fun, but I owed you an update. This is why I’ve been so scarce lately and why no one has heard much from me. I’m just so far into my own stuff right now that I haven’t been able to offer much for support. I haven’t even really been able to reach out for support for myself. I hope you are all doing well. I hope that there’s light and sunshine in each of your lives and you’re making it through on this journey called life. I know I’ll be okay soon – I’m just going through a rough patch. I’ll be okay though. Wishing you all the light and sending as many hugs as you’d like. My best, Poppy
  25. Whether we're talking about hindsight or vision, it seemed right to title this blog with something that's coming for us all. I'm SO ready for 2019 to be over. How 'bout you? While there have been some redeeming moments that it'd be unfair to acknowledge, this year has been overall shitty. There has been more sadness than happiness, more frustration than there have been genuine smiles, and more tears than....well, you get the picture. I've gained weight, I'm experiencing pain and discomfort in two areas of my body that I'm having to get checked out by a doctor before school starts back up, and both my heart and soul have taken a beating many times over during 2019. Physically, my ticker is still pumping but it's been through the wringer. While things have improved, I have emotionally taken significant damage and this tear may take longer to repair. I haven't been 'myself,' lately, but have been trying to come back to who I was - and as a bonus, be BETTER than who I was last year. Steps have been taken and the path is paved; I've just got to keep going. In order to do so, I need to slam the door on 2019 and step into 2020 with a renewed outlook. I need to set my goals and stick to them, I need to not lose sight of what I want (and we ALL know how easy it is to do that) and I need to take care of myself. That's one major problem I had this year - I let myself go, physically, emotionally, mentally. I don't know how I managed to keep it together, but...SHIT, it wasn't easy! I know what I need to work on, and I know how to do it....now I've just gotta commit to it! The stage was kind of already set for the holidays to be, by default, crappy. My mother was starting her shit after Halloween was over with, on who was going where for Christmas Eve, my fiancee planned (last year) to be out of town for Christmas this year, and I was already dreading the idea of being alone this year. And again, there were a few rare moments where there was joy, but for the most part, each day leading up to Christmas has left me wanting to isolate - and I did. I didn't want to be near anyone, didn't want to talk, I didn't want my 'bah-humbug's' to affect those who actually enjoy the 'happiest time of the year.' (Whoever coined Christmas to be this - is deluded, I tell you - because 'happiest' doesn't quite fit!) Even after Christmas was over - it didn't feel like it was 'over.' The sourness and bitterness lingered on - and it might, until I effectively dismantle the tree, take down my garlands that I effortlessly threw across the mantle, pull down the lights from the one window I hung them in, and throw everything up into the attic until next year's Black Friday. I actually wanted to do all of this on the 26th, but as my mother decided to come visit for my birthday yesterday, I left them up so that she could enjoy the Christmas decor before I ripped it all down and tossed it all, along with the rest of 2019. I've literally had NO time to myself for the last week. For the beginning part, I did - I spent much of it alone. In a daze, kinda just...existing. "Is it over, yet?" played over and over in my head, while just going through the motions and not really investing in all of the festivities. It was more of like, a chore, than anything else. My wife spent Christmas with her family out-of-state, and I chose to stay behind so that I could be there with my kids. I was having guests on Christmas Eve, so I cleaned. I cooked. None of it was for me. It was all for my kids and my ex - because when he's happy, the kids are cooperative and generally, everything goes smoother. I know I spoke about our holiday arrangements in an earlier blog and it's the same, year after year...I sacrifice a LOT during the holidays so that my kids can have both their parents present. It is VERY rarely what I want it to be, and this year was no different - it was just MUCH harder, with my better half not even being present. Having everyone over for Christmas Eve was similar to setting a kitchen timer and counting down the minutes before everything was over with. I threw myself into an end-year pause; because I really didn't want to feel. I just watched everyone else enjoy, I fake-smiled my way through it. Inside, though, there was a huge, significant void. I was hurting, and I was sobbing, but I'd be damned if I let anyone see that. I just told myself that once it was over, I could just 'flush' it all and hope for the best next year. The holidays just weren't something I wanted to deal with this year, but alas, there's simply no choice where that's concerned - they show up every year, whether you're ready or not. I do hope, someday, some of that holiday spirit will return and I don't have to feel the need to scowl at the little Christmas displays at the store, despite the sheer prettiness of it all. It is just genuinely HARD to care, when those around you don't seem to care, either. If it wasn't for me, there would be no tree up in my house. There would be no presents under the tree. There would be NO decorations, no lights in the windows. I've always been the one to haul down all the decor on the day after Thanksgiving, and to 'Christmasize,' and the kids would all laugh at my OCD while placing the lights and trying to ensure all the little multi-colored bulbs were facing the right direction, and none would really even offer to help with the decorating or the preparing....I used to think that maybe it was because they all had things to do to keep them occupied - school, work, etc - and I was the one who was always home, so who better to do it all? They all knew that I had it handled, and that I could be relied on to do it all. But now, this year, I'm in school, too. I bust my ass every day to make sure I turn in my best work, my best efforts. I pulled a 3.8 last semester, so that puts me 15 credits closer to my bachelor's, which is one good thing having happened in 2019. The next year and a half will be a continuation of my education, and at some point, I may start working. What's going to happen, then? Who's gonna bring Christmas to my house, because this year, if nothing else, has been a real eye-opener on who it all falls on, who's the glue, who's the one who pulls it all off when it comes to the shopping, the wrapping, the stoking of holiday spirit, when there simply is none IN me to begin with. And, in the end, there's thank-you's, there's 'you did a great job,' and 'you cooked a delicious meal,' but there's still that lingering feeling that I'm truly the only one who gives a shit. My one and only love was not here with me. Neither one of my kids asked me what I wanted for Christmas. Of course, I would have told them, 'nothing at all,' because I don't ever want my children worrying about what material item they could give me - I'd know the thought was there and the sentiment alone would have been satisfying, but they didn't even ASK. Instead, there's lists of what they WANT on my desk, in my text messages....new XBOX controller, new sneakers, LED lights for their room, cosmetics, money, gift cards to whatever-the-fuck-it is, and that stings, too. Yet, I took their lists, threw everything on my credit cards, and pulled it off - because as always, others' happiness is more important than my own. Maybe I need to not give too much of a shit, anymore...something's got to give. As of right now, I've not said anything to my family about how much I didn't enjoy this year's Christmas, and I probably won't....because it's over with, it's done. What's the point? It will just make J feel guilty for not being here (but she wasn't here for a lot of the rest of this year's struggles, so it's probably best she spent Christmas with her family) and it will cause guilt in my children, something I never want to do. And so, I shall flush this emotional turd, and look forward to the brand new year, where MUCH will be changed up. Fewer fucks will be given (and not just pertaining to the holidays), and I'll bet things will be happier and will go a whole lot smoother. Originally, I wasn't going to blog, today, but, really, what kind of a blogger am I if I don't put out an end-year reflection of sorts? I know that my writing was yet another thing that I kind of 'slacked' on, but I'm hoping to get some of that, back, too. And now, to you all, my AS family: If you're struggling, I wish for you, lots of comfort. When times are dark, I wish you light. If you're in pain, I wish for you, relief. If you're feeling lost, I wish for you, clarity. For each moment of sadness, I wish for you a million small moments that make you smile. If you're lonely, I wish for you, friendship and companionship. If you're all of the above, I wish for 2020 to show you all that good things are possible, and that all of the work we do on ourselves, will pay off. I also send you strength, positivity and all of my love. Happy New Year, - Capulet
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