Sometimes I want to die. I feel so hopeless. I feel so alone. I feel violated, disgusting, unwanted. I don’t remember. I want to. I want to remember. If I could just remember I could have stopped it. But there is nothing. There’s nothing there. No matter how much I smack myself, beat myself up over it, I can’t remember. I DIDN’T WANT THIS. I didn’t want to be raped. They said I begged for it. They said I wanted it. Why can’t I remember? I didn’t want this. When I woke up, I was horrified. When I found the blood in my underwear, my heart wrenched out of place and it still hasn’t fully returned to normal. It never will. They said it was consensual-consensual as I was falling over, hitting my head, falling into bathtubs, calling my best friend a man. Consensual as he left me out of fear. Consensual as my “friend” found me, trying to stumble into the crowded living room half-naked. Consensual as my friend had to help dress me.
NO. He used me. I was his sex toy. The first one said I was too drunk for him. Then my rapist went in. He RAPED me. He went in the bedroom. He KNEW I was too drunk, that I wouldn’t say no. Wasn’t able to say no. But it wasn’t me. Where was I that night? I wasn’t there….couldn’t have been. I have no recollection. Not even an inkling. But when I came to in the morning I could feel it…feel where he’d penetrated me. Stolen my virginity. I didn’t want this.
I went to that party without a care in the world. I went to that party feeling safe and comfortable, my best friend at my side. The one who said she wouldn’t let anything happen to me. The one who told him to do it. The one who said I consented to her. The one who agreed I begged for it. The one who said I got lonely. The one who agreed with me that it was rape. The one who agreed me with me but then turned her back after I pressed charges. When I needed her support the most.
I feel so worthless, like nothing. I’m a dirty slut. But I know I’m not. That wasn’t me. He used me. He RAPED me. He didn’t care about me. He went in there for sex. I was his disposable sex toy. A living, breathing, girl! So drunk that she was consenting, not realizing what it meant. A free pass. The perfect victim. Nobody would believe RAPE. She consented. THEN WHY DON’T I REMEMBER? WHY IS EVERY INSTINCT IN MY BODY SCREAMING NO?! NO YOU DIDN’T WANT THIS?
Oh yeah. Because it’s RAPE. You DIDN’T want this. COULDN’T have. He used you. He used me. He screwed me, took my virginity, and then left. Left me to wake up on the floor in the morning, terrified, blood in my underwear, unsure, my night a void.
HE RAPED ME. HE RAPED ME. HE RAPED ME. HE RAPED ME.
Why does no one believe me? Why does no one understand?
Message from Sitemistress: I believe you, Jenny, and if you would like online support from other survivors who will understand just how you feel, please feel free to join Pandora's Aquarium Also you can get help from a rape crisis service. I am so sorry this happened to you xx
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