I'm Not Okay

I struggled for a couple days over whether or not to write this, and what to say or how much to say.  Because I've been in a lot of pain.  One of my biggest fears in life came true.  That as a sexual assault survivor, I was more likely to be assaulted again.  And it happened.

I was raped the night before Thanksgiving.  In a set of circumstances that I have been begging for a Delorean or Tardis to go back and change.  To have had the courage to ask him to leave.  To have not frozen in panic and just "deal" with what happened to me.  But all that does is blame myself for what someone did to me.  I said no.  Repeatedly.  At least four times.  But that didn't matter.  And it didn't stop it from happening.

I'm not okay.

I thought for a brief moment that maybe I was fine.  That I had wanted to have sex.  That obviously I was sending the signals for that.  But I'm not fine.  I didn't want to have sex.  I said repeatedly that I didn't want to have sex.  And the biggest part of the whole situation is that I'm fighting my own self blame, and trying to remind myself that he did this to me.  He chose to do this, after I repeatedly said no.

He told me I wanted it.  That I wanted him to fuck me.

He was so polite.  When he first tried putting his hands up my shirt, I pulled away and said that wasn't happening tonight.  He stopped, wrapped his arm around me, and kissed my hair.  The second time he attempted to put his hand down my pants.  I squirmed away and said that wasn't happening.  He brushed my hair out of my face and kissed me.  When I attempted to stand up and walk away, he grabbed at my pants and attempted to pull them down.  I wrenched them back up and said that wasn't happening tonight.  He brought me more beer, and I said I didn't want it.  But he couldn't drink it all himself so I had some.  When I said I was tired, he asked to cuddle.  But I didn't want his finger inside me, and I didn't want sex.  I couldn't move.  I froze.

I kept it together mostly on Thursday.  Same on Friday.  Same on Saturday.  It was Sunday when it all started to unravel.  And has continued into a numb existence of wanting to stay in bed, eat, not eat, sleep, stay awake, feeling like a zombie.

And here I am.

I'm grateful and lucky for the people I have in my life.  That I have friends to reach out to who care enough to check in and make sure I feel safe.  That know how to help me and when to let me have my space.  I'm going to get through this.  I know I am going to be okay.  Eventually.  But right now I'm not okay.  And that's okay.