Life After Rape

I remember when I used to feel normal and adequately balanced. There was a time where my life was at least partially decent. To be honest, right now I'm not exactly sure how I even get out of bed most days. I remember when my life seemed a lot less complicated. I didn't feel anything weighing me down at all. Now, every day I am held captive by the thoughts that ding inside my head like an obnoxious microwave of depression. I'm longing to be cool and pretty and happy. These days all of these things feel substantially out of my reach. Pain and shame have taken over what used to be a pretty okay me.

Never in a million years did I think someone would rape me. I led this life where I thought people were super chill. There was this notion in my head that if I treated others the way I wanted to be treated everything would be alright. I sat in a boring training after work anticipating seeing him that night so I could finally have fun for once. I never anticipated my soul would be snatched from me that night. So many things come after a rape. In your lap sits responsibility as intense as saving a life. You are forced to make decisions that you should have never ever have had to make. You sit and you wonder how long you will lay in bed and not want anything at all. The thought of when you will feel anything other than sadness also lingers. Everyday dejection loafs around your chest in the worst way. You are miserable. And it isn't fair. There will be days where you will feel fine but there is never a second you don't remember and they are so stretched apart that you barely remember the last. All you can see is your rapist's face. It haunts you. Everything about that day haunts you. You wonder what you could have done differently. Some days you even blame yourself. Those are the worst days. Rape isn't okay. I wish I could scream that and it would miraculously mean something.

Before I got raped I knew that it was bad. I knew that rape was something so culturally inappropriate that it entailed long trials an jails sentences. However, I never knew the feeling of losing all hope and maybe even a dash of faith. The feeling of emptiness danced through my fragile bones. I never knew that being raped meant countless nights of restlessness and paranoia. I didn't know I'd scream internally. I didn't know there would be a constant self-battle about whether it was worth it or not to tell. For weeks I second guessed if people would believe me or not. Tears flooded my eyes almost every day. Some days I wasn't able to keep any food down. I didn't know that every single day I would want to die. Or that there would be so many ways to fight back and every single one of them scared me nearly to death. I didn't know any of this. Not until he raped me. He stole my dignity as well as my power. In turn, I am a completely different person. I'm not even sure who I am. I don't know how to recover or if I'll ever fully heal. Everything is still so fresh so I guess I shouldn't expect myself to. I'm just hurting deeper than I had ever imagined. Have you ever felt homesick inside your own house? That's how I feel everywhere I go. Homesick. Life has never been great. It is super hard to close my eyes to the bullshit this world has come to pass out. Let me shed some light on the reasons my faith broke completely that day.

When I was a little girl I knew that this world was a kind place and there were no mean people. In my tiny mind, there were loving caring souls in many shapes and fruitful colors. I wanted to know the world because in my microscopic mind everyone was my friend. Preschool was a blast except for the fact that it was the very first time I was called the N word. Then elementary school hit and my best friend called me stupid and for the first time I didn’t just get over it. But I learned what confrontation was that day. That night after hours of pacing I called that friend. I asked her why she called me stupid and she said: “I don’t know.” I waited out for so long for the sorry because if she didn’t know then it was clearly a mistake. I never got the apology I was looking for and the world got slightly dimmer. Then middle school came and I was super excited. It was the new beginning I had been dreaming of and a chance to meet more people. I had the opportunity to rectify all the bad I’d seen prior not knowing that that was only the beginning. I made three friends that year. Those friends were my all until I told one of them that I liked a boy. I remember telling her that I liked him so much and that I was going to ask him out. She encouraged me to and then beat me to it. So now I’m down to two friends and my heart actually aches for the first time. Not only had I lost the guy I liked but one of my best friends took him from me. This was one of the first times I had experienced any type of betrayal of a friend. After that, it was hard to trust people.

Then high school came and I was positive it was my time to shine. I had to make up for all the bullshit. Life had to get better. So now things really seem to turn around. I’m chucking through life and now I’ve made a plethora of friends and even a few acquaintances. People now think that I’m funny which is new but also one hell of a compliment and it honestly couldn’t get any better. Everything is great. I had so many friends at school but I had a really special friend at home. My terrier mix. My absolute best friend. Every day after school it was my biggest joy to come home to her. Then one day my whole world crumbled around me. Our landlord passed away and all of his properties were transferred into the palms of greed. The new landlord changed everything and we were behind on rent which was something our old landlord gave us tons of leeway for. We weren’t given any time to play catch up and in the middle of winter, we were out on our asses. I had to surrender my best friend, my first dog ever, to the shelter I carried her out of as a puppy. I lost my best friend and part of myself that day. I missed school for a whole week and found out that during my absence my “friend” from middle school and another “friend” which ironically was the same friend who called me stupid for the very first time in elementary school had been talking about me. Not just about me… my family… my life. They made it a point to judge my family and remember at this point I barely trust anyone. So when I say I just knew my friends would never betray me like the one in middle school had I truly believed that. When I confronted them I lost them both. They both insulted me over social media and did various things to be petty during school. I started to become cold.

Fast forward… I’m graduated and have a job. Still living at home but I’m feeling better now that my school days are over. At first, I fell in love with my new job. Everyone seemed so friendly. Some people were rude but by now I expected that. The expectation didn't numb the pain any less. I found myself starting to get angry when situations like this arose. For the most part, the first six months of what would be a three-year food service career were great. Everyone got along for the most part. There were some people with insecurity issues that I worked with. Some who hated themselves way too much to be able to like others. That was frustrating but once stood up to they magically became decent. After the six month grace period, I was now full time and making pretty decent money. But with full-time scheduling became a full-time responsibility. I loved it and I hated it. The money was great but I started to see management for who they truly were. Snakes. All of them. I never asked for full time and my bosses were never going to give it to me. It was my boss's boss who realized I had been working full-time hours and not reaping any benefits at all. They pulled me into their office and offered it to me. This pissed of two of my three bosses. Now, my becoming full-time has nothing to do with what came next. Our bosses became these evil people. They stopped helping and barked orders. We were no longer a team that worked together. We were just a group of people fending for ourselves. Now fast forward to the very end of my food service career. I had some serious health issues that caused me to have several doctors appointments for testing. When I tell you they treated me like shit I absolutely mean they treated me like shit. I got ignored. I got the evil eye, eye rolls, you name it. That was when I realized my life wasn't important to them. They didn't give a shit about me and that hurt. It hurt because I know what type of person I am. I am understanding and considerate of everyone's life and feelings. I would call myself pretty rational. So the fact that I was getting so much shit for something I couldn't control made me sick. I had to leave. There was really no way I could stay and be happy.

So I looked for a new job and I found one! It felt super good to give my two weeks notice which of course they fucked up to be assholes and I had to work an extra day. But oh well, because the job I went to I loved and still do with all of my heart. It's practically the one thing I look forward to anymore. I went into this new job excited and also intimidated because everything was new and different from anything I had ever experienced. My new bosses were super nice and it was honestly weird to not be treated like shit all the time. My new boss had offered to carpool with me every day to work and that shocked the shit out of me. Sincerity was something I wasn't accustomed to. Things were actually looking up. Again everywhere you got there will be people that hate themselves too much to be able to like anyone else. I had some co-workers that gave me weird vibes but in the end, things were honestly perfect.

Then I met that guy that raped me. I never thought that something like that would be something he would do just by looking at him. I met my rapist in the beginning of January this year. We talked for a day or two on tinder but ultimately decided it was easier to Snapchat and text. Soon after I realized I had a few more health issues and I expressed to him that I may need surgery. The surgery was a false alarm and I recovered a lot sooner than I had anticipated. After I had begun to be able to function normally again he asked if I would like to hang out. At this point in my life, I was super anxious to make new friends because my current ones honestly weren't the greatest.

He picked me up and was kinda quiet but also pretty friendly. He didn't seem weird at all and we even made jokes about which one of us was going to end up being the serial killer. When we got to his house the entire time he showed me videos on YouTube of up and coming rappers in the city. After two hours of dumb shit on the TV, anyone would get bored. So I pretended I was tired and he took me home. Boring isn't always bad though it keeps you out of trouble. He didn't talk to me much for a while and then randomly hit me up on my 21st birthday. I told him that my friends had planned something for the day of my birthday and that we could do something that weekend. When my birthday came around my friends didn't end up doing what they said they would as usual and I was kind of upset. He told me not to worry about it because he and I would have a blast on the weekend. His reassuring words honestly did make me feel a little better and gave me something to look forward to.

That Friday I went to work like usual only I stayed after late for First Aid and CPR training. In hindsight, he said some weird things to me that day. He sent me heart eyes and made a weird rape joke that I brushed off. He bought me a medium sized bottle of my favorite alcohol as a gift for the night. When we got to his house he presented it to me. He played some more rap videos and then put on a movie. I drank the whole bottle and he encouraged me to sip his beers. I got excited about yoga and showed him a pose. He called me a tease. I laughed it off thinking he was joking and went back to watching the movie. A little later in the night, I began getting tired. He told me I could sleep in his bed with him which was fine but even though I was intoxicated I let him know I had no intentions of having sex with him. He said that was fine and we laid down. Out of the clear blue fucking sky as if I hadn't displayed my sexual disinterest in him, he lifted up my shirt and began sucking my nipples. I asked him what he was doing and things started to get very uncomfortable. I pulled my shirt back down and he told me to take my pants off. I told him no. He let it go for a minute and then told me to roll over. I thought he needed space in the bed so I rolled over on my side. He then yanked my shorts down. I asked him what he was doing and then he replied, "Shhh we are doing yoga, just relax." Those words and what I heard next haunt me constantly. I heard the ripping of what I assume was a condom wrapper then he pushed me on my stomach with my face in the bed and entered me. I rocked from side to side and in an attempt to get him off of me. He grabbed my wrists and held me down with force. At that point, I was scared to move, in shock, and too groggy to fight back. I asked him to stop and he said, "I'll just slow down." I asked him to stop again and he said, "I'll just slow down. I haven't came yet." I said, "this isn't yoga" and he said, "No, it's not, I'm fucking you." I told him he was hurting me and he replied, "then open your fucking legs." After he finished with me I ran to the bathroom crying. He asked me why I was crying and then tried to convince me that the moment I told him to stop that he did. I laid back down still in shock and complained that I was sore and he asked me why and I replied, "because you just fucked me" and he said, "I don't remember that. We are both pretty fucked up" and then he turned over and went to sleep.

I laid there for hours not sure what to do. I felt like if he knew that I wasn't as messed up as I was he would hurt me. The next morning I asked him to take me to a friend's house and he did. On the way, he questioned me about what I had remembered from the night before. I played dumb and stayed quiet. He dropped me off and nobody was home. When I called her I was a complete wreck. I explained to her what had happened and became an even bigger wreck. That night my friends rallied around me to try to make me feel better. It barely worked.

The next day I went home and had to face my mother which was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Telling her was the most embarrassing thing I have ever had to deal with. I felt so disgusting and ashamed. She was angry of course and wanted to hurt him in more ways than one. One thing's for sure though, everyone kept telling me to go to the police but I was too afraid. There were several times that I almost did but talked myself out of it because I felt like nobody would believe me. It took me ten days to do anything at all. I called a rape hot-line because honestly I felt like killing myself and I hated that I felt that way. She told me what a few of my options were and I felt like at some point I had to do something. So I went to the nearest women's shelter and started the process of what is called a sexual violence protection order. These orders are fairly new but similar to that of a restraining order or PFA. The process did take a lot longer than I had anticipated. The court date kept getting continued which of course was super frustrating. It took probably two months to have a hearing that was supposed to come ten days after I requested the temporary SVPO.

When the time came I was terrified. I didn't want to enter the courtroom but thankfully I didn't have to. Although that day I did come very close to him on several occasions which made me come unglued a little bit. His lawyer asked for just months of an order that was supposed to be three years. When that happened something inside of me clicked. He wasn't remorseful of anything he had done. He didn't care. He only agreed to one year because it would benefit him. What felt like an eternity of sorrow and depression quickly grew into a flame of rage. I knew something had to be done. I called the precinct that was in the jurisdiction of my and was given a day to come in and give a statement. One of my three dogs died the morning of the day I gave my statement and I honestly don't think life can get any more fucked up.

Now, I am in the process of pressing criminal charges against him and I'm hoping they stick. This will mean legal fees, heartache, panic attacks, and an actual courtroom. All things that I have no say in. He did this to us. Something needs to be done about him and all the rapists of the world. Rape is not okay and it never will be. Lately, we have world bustling with rape culture and victim bashing. It has to stop. You can be the change by spreading awareness. Spread my story. Spread your story. Let people know what's going on in this world. Beause it's never going to stop until we stomp on it. As much as I want to give up now I can't I have to fight him or I'll end up fighting myself. Report it. It's the only way.