rapetrauma

it happened a little over 6 months ago. My therapist knows what happened, actually, she was the one that helped me realize it was rape but recently I’ve been having trouble talking to her about it. I want to be able to talk about it because it’s eating me up inside but it’s like the words won’t come out. I’m so angry and not doing well with all of these flashbacks and memories and am struggling. A lot of the time I feel numb or nothing at all but I just want to start feeling like myself again. Anyone else have trouble talking about this with their therapist or have any suggestions about how to talk about something like this?
#rapesurvivor #SexualAssault #rapetrauma #PTSD

I have to beat my addiction. Its easier for me to describe like this: #mightypoety #SexualAssault #Rape #SexualAbuse #exploitation #Healing #violence #rapeculture #rapetrauma #SelfMedicating

There is a ‘demon’ inside my brain, and it has managed to gain near total command. The demon is This addiction, to something which was once helpful, as a temporary release, from the anguish of what was going on around me, and to me, to others as well.

I need to reclaim my own mind, and get control back from the ‘demon’. Take back the reigns.

It’s going to hurt me, it will scream and kick and shout at me. All of it’s might, will thrust forward, as the Demon attempts to survive. Clenching, hard onto these reigns, dominating my head space, it is adamant that it shall not relinquish, the throbbing life source, the ‘treasure’ it found within me. That Demon’s ‘treasure chest’ was not, as one might expect, in the form of a breakable crate, dripping with Gold, jewels, wealth and happiness.

Rather, it is the antithesis of such a positive glowing beacon.

‘Treasure’ for this Demon, was in fact the lack of it. The emptiness. The hollow crate, where once stood self-belief, self-love, self-esteem, ambition, hope and will. When the world around me came to blows, and stripped away everything about me, everything I held so dear and close... The tsunami which washed out happiness, stole my love of life, swept away the love of my life, crippled my career, took away all livelihood. All that was left was my soul.

When the rape came, my soul seemed all but smothered. All that was left of me, was an empty shell of self.

That is what this Demon treasures, the hollow cave, where once sparked my soul, that is it’s dreadful power. Power to remain captain of this ghostly vessel, steering my ship beneath it’s own sails, and into the ever blackening darkness.

Yet my soul remains, as do my sails, and all the fire within me could never be smothered. The Demon knows this, and it frightens it’s core. Hence it’s rampage. It fears the fateful inevitable. That once again my soul with sail this ship, the opportunistic Demon, shall lie, defeated. Not merely smothered, completely extinguished.

You’d have to read my last post before this, I couldn’t finish all my story or even part of it in my last post.

Anyways, when I was 16, I worked at Best Buy. I was friends with everyone who worked there, even if they were much older than me. I’ll still never understand why it was normal for people to have seen me hanging out with 22-45 year olds, but there I was. I didn’t want to be seen as one of those stupid girls my age who liked high school musical and Hannah Montana. I wanted them to think I was their age. And I think for the first couple weeks I was there maybe I had some of them fooled, but eventually they all knew I was 16. And I thought I was so cool because they accepted me. My mom and me would fight all the time because she didn’t want me hanging around them. She saw how creepy it was. I just thought I knew better, as I always do. One of my “friends” was having a New Years party, and of course instead of hanging out with the friends my age, I thought I’d be cooler if I went to a real party. Especially since I knew almost everyone there, because it was a work party. One of my rapists was the guy who picked me up and drove me to the party. He was also a good friend.

Now I had never blacked out from alcohol in my life, because I had a good tolerance to it, because I used to drink a lot. I think we got there around 9-10 pm. (Also just so you all know, I didn’t always remember every single detail of all of this, they come back to me over the years, and I still don’t remember every detail, but these are the things I remember for sure). The guy who was having the party was 31, the guy who picked me up was 22. Both my friends. I spent the couple hours that I was aware and conscious having a lot of fun talking to everyone and doing shots. The last shot I remember taking, I was decently sober still when I took this shot. It was a shot brought to me by the guy who drove me there, let’s call him A, the 22 year old. And the 31 year old we will call S. Now, it took me months to realize I was drugged, I blamed myself because I had been drinking. But I knew better, I could take opiates and drink and still wouldn’t be knocked out. The last thing I remember was that the count down to New Years was close, I remember taking that shot where we were all surrounding the table, and A was next to me. The next thing I remember, I was unable to walk. I don’t remember how I got from being around the table doing shots to being carried up the stairs, but I’ll never forget it because it was like I was seeing that glimpse of memory from the top of the staircase, I was seeing myself being carried by two guys upstairs. And I don’t think I even in that moment had a bad thought about anyone doing anything to me, because I was so naive and innocent.

They took me up the staircase, which all I remember of that is that glimpse. Then I remember being thrown onto the bed. Then I was out. #myrape #MeToo #PTSD #CPTSD #Depression #Anxiety #Bipolar #Trauma #rapetrauma