Today as I travelled I rambled. I looked at the window and wondered if I jumped would I die. Probably not. This was all because someone had mentioned about how some people asked to get raped by their actions and who they surround themselves with. This really depressed me. They have no idea I have had my own personal experience with rape. I did not say anything though.
There is so much pressure when it comes to coping with rape, most of it unspoken and swept under carpets. I still can not say the word I say the ‘R’ in a awkward tone with arms crossed normally after consuming alcohol with the safety of my friends. Or in hushed tones after an awful sexual experience. I find that I have told all the important people in my life with immense guilt; I think maybe they wish I had not told them at all.
When I think about it I feel like I am too ugly to have been raped, too tall and odd looking. I know it doesn’t matter what I look like, that rape is an act of power but still it comes down to how secretly insecure I am about myself. I know that it could of been anyone and he saw an opportunity but there were much more attractive people than me. Maybe I am just that pathetic. I think about the rape how I wore a conservative black shirt and knee length skirt. I didn’t look seductive or easy.
Rape is so dangerous, it hurts you mentally, physically and those around you. It pushes people away and tests their ability to cope either that or it scares them away. I hate that it bothers me, that I had the bad luck of being singled out.
I have a lot of anxiety that when I sleep with a new person that I am likely to have a panic attack, that I will think about it for a moment and not feel confident enough to say anything destroying a potentially good moment. When I was r-ed I fought meekly I was scared so my arms seemed heavier and wobbly like jelly when I pushed away at his shoulders, my voice could of been a scream or quiet whisper when asking him to stop, telling him that I did not want it and then I froze. Even though it’s been over a year and a half I still sometimes think of the freezing and accepting it.
When I feel rejected I think of how I deserved being r-ed because I had been rude to the man as he was terrorising me, pursuing me and I did not know how to deal with it. He dragged me and I pulled myself free but did not run. I think that he must of known what a terrible person I am.
When I think of rape I think of videos on Facebook talking about empowerment, support and fighting against sexual violence but I don’t see that yet. I have flashbacks. I go right back to thinking of closing that video and running away from the words. When I see rape in movies I wish there had been a warning because it makes me cry most of the time and cringe to the core, I normally leave the room. Maybe I am too sensitive?
When I talk about rape to my closest friends I feel so guilty because I must sound like a broken record. I worry immensely about my future. I wonder if I will ever be at ease and happy with sex again. I look back at a time before the r and I remember being relaxed, sexual and free. Now I feel like I’m being strangled with lots of bits of string.
Words made from trees 