Months later it is just hitting, why does the brain work this way?
There are so many “why” questions these days. The self-blame is the hardest to get through; why couldn’t I just have said “no”? Why didn’t I have the strength to push him off?
I had just come out of having a seizure, but I still blame myself.
I was alone with a guy who knew about my condition and knew that I was not in my right mind coming out of a seizure. The way I feel coming out of a seizure feels similar to sobering up from being on drugs, except only my brain is clear. I don’t have much control over my motor functions. I can’t move my body, I can’t speak. I have no strength. I can only hear and comprehend through a blazing headache and dizziness, yet he chose to ignore that. He undressed me and I couldn’t move. My body was exhausted, so I just froze. How was I supposed to say “no” when every time I tried to talk, nothing came out?
There was nothing I could do at this point. He was already inside me. His filthy hands were on my body where they were not allowed to be.
Even with the state I was in, I still blame myself for what happened to me. For six months I kept this to myself, and thought it was my fault. I didn’t know how to process what had happened. Once my life settled down this all came crashing over me. I hated my body, face, and my epilepsy that got me in this situation. Days felt long with the dark haze covering me. Nights were especially hard, the flash backs showing what I had gone through over and over. It’s like my mind was punishing me over and over for something I couldn’t control but wish I could. I wanted it to stop. My depression kept getting worse. Why is getting out of bed these days so hard?
Seeing how it affected the relationships I have with my family, friends, and boyfriend at the time was heartbreaking.
The endless nights of tears and screams. Why did I have to freeze? Saying no to family vacations because I no longer feel strong or stable enough to be around unknown territory. I can no longer handle loud noises or sudden sounds without wanting to break down and cry. The constant anxiety running through me when someone hugs me and wondering where their hands will touch. My mom likes to give a friendly or loving tap on the butt as she walks past. It is very hard for me to not scream at her or slap her hands away in a respectful manner. This ends up hurting her feelings when I react in such a way. Social settings are hard now. It’s overwhelming being in large groups of people, another thing that I enjoyed was taken away from me, all because of one guy. The simple things in life you don’t realize affect you until you’ve gone through something like this. I don’t want to live in fear and anxiety about people any longer.
I have lost weight not being able to eat because I just don’t have an appetite from the depression. Lost weight I can’t gain back, making me hate the way I look even more. I see myself as sick, broken, and worth so little. I am getting tired of fighting all the intrusive thoughts. The lies my brain creates because of this story feel so real most days. But I try. I try my best, but I can’t even look at the lights that were hanging in my room when it happened anymore. I moved my bed to another part of the small cube I called my room, hoping it would help me forget, even though I never will. I feel so angry and broken. Angry at him, myself, and the world. As I look back at my camera roll since that day, I can watch my smile fade in every picture. Seeing only baggy clothes on my body because I am so uncomfortable in my skin.
Just like that, another label was created, “victim.”
What human would think it’s acceptable to take advantage of someone in such an awful state? The answer is him.
– Anonymous, Fraser Valley.