Now to take a turn to something more serious; How does it feel to be sexually assaulted by someone you once considered your best friend?
First things first I cannot speak for everyone, but this is the account of how I felt.
(This is where the no sugar-coating thing really comes in)
Immediately after it occurred I could not stop crying. Bawling. Crying so hard that I thought my organs were getting crushed slowly with every large inhale I was taking. In fact, all I wanted to do was scrape out my insides. All I wanted to do was escape the body I was in. I immediately jumped in the shower scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing myself. Hoping to was this filth I felt off of me. Then I physically started scratching myself because somewhere deep inside, my brain was yelling at me that I needed to escape, that I could escape.
An hour after it happened I felt absolutely empty. I felt nothing to be specific. I felt no emotion, nor could I force myself to show any emotion. I honestly couldn’t stop doing things either. I was cleaning and packing and fidgeting, I could not stop moving. I needed to do things so my mind would not wander back to what had happened. So that my mind would not think about all the horrible thoughts it had been thinking earlier.
I did not want to face what had happened to me.
That next day was the day I was moving back home for the summer. It was tough, tough, tough. Half of the drive I just sat in pure silence. The other half of the time I tried to rock out so hard, to bang my head to the music so much that maybe just maybe the memories of what had happened would cease to exist. Maybe they would slip out of my ear, or my brain would rattle so much and hit my skull just right that I would lose that memory. Maybe I would get lucky and forget everything that happened because at the moment that seemed like the best scenario.
You would think that being home would help. That being away from where the assault had happened would help. Let me tell you, it didn’t. That last summer I had sat in my room countless times on the phone with him, or skyping him. I have an entire wall of cork-board that I use to hang photos, and of course he was on there… more than once. He was haunting me. He was everywhere. He was in half of the memories I had from my freshman year and some of my sophomore year memories as well. We have many mutual friends, so whenever I would think of them I would think of him as well.
My thoughts were the worst. They were a broken record of negativity. I mean how would you feel if someone who once was your best friend betrayed you like that? How much worth would you place on yourself if this person that had meant so much to you thought so little of you that they invaded you, violated you with such little thought about it or about you. At that moment in time you meant nothing to them. You were just a body, just an item, just a means to an end. And out of all people, someone you trusted your life with, someone who had been your best friend. If THEY out of ALL people could not see your worth in that moment who the fuck will.
When I was home everything reminded me of him, reminded me of what had happened. So much so that I could not focus. All I thought about is how I needed new new new. I could not escape my own body so maybe I could escape anything that reminded me of him at home. I impulsively decided to redo my whole room and go through my whole wardrobe. I painted my walls white. A clean slate. I got a new bed spread, took down all my photos, rearranged my room, and bought new decorations. I got rid of 1/2 my wardrobe. Especially anything that I knew I wore around him, or a lot during my freshman year of college. Then I bought a new wardrobe. Pathetically, how I was feeling after him sexually assaulting me cost me hundreds of dollars. Hundreds. Just because I was trying to escape everything I was feeling.
I can admit that while this helped a little bit, it didn’t help much. I did not feel like doing anything. I did not want to do anything. My bed is where I wanted to be, craved to be. My blankets were my safe zone, they were protecting me from anyone and everyone.
For the longest time I felt as though I did not own my own body. It was not my own. My body had this strange feeling that my skin was not attached to me. My skin merely was levitating around my body, not quite there, but there enough for me to know that I was a prisoner of this strange feeling. It was there 24/7 for over a month.
Honestly the only thing that made me stop feeling such a way, the only reason I am picked up out of the ditch I was in is because I started focusing on making my body my own again. My fitness was my main focus. Then there was camp. Camp helped me realize that there is so much more to life than the bad things that happens to us. I know that is crazy to say that camp, where we got yelled at and smoked all the time. Where lack of sleep was a norm happened to be the place I finally realized that I was stronger than that. I was stronger than the situation I was forced into by this wretched human. That I was stronger than letting myself just hate him. That God had made me stronger than the chains that were surrounding me. I finally realized the chains were gone before I even knew it because of God. I cannot say that through this whole journey of my healing I made all the right decisions. There are moments I would like to take back, or think over through this whole thing. Moments of weakness I had while trying to regain my sense of self-ownership over my body, but thankfully through Gods grace I am learning to forgive myself and learn from these mistakes.
Today, talking about the situation still gives me quite a bit of anxiety. I no longer feel as though my skin is levitating, with the exception of my hands though this only occurs when the topic is brought up. I am in the process of forgiving this human. I am not, and cannot do it alone. Which is why I have seeked out a few amazing friends, and Gods word of course. I am not afraid to answer any questions that one might have about what has happened to me. And I am finally happy that I have finally built up the courage to get this horrible incident off of my chest. God Bless.