By: H. Elizabeth Williams
September 3, 2019
I was raped. I’m scarred.
Ever since I came back from that stupid college that tried to ruin me all my friends kept asking why I was so... different. I hardly go out anymore. I'm just not the same Hannah everyone knew.
I just didn't have the heart to tell anyone I was broken. That everything reminded me of that rapist, that school and that I'll never have the normal college life probably ever again.
I started having these "reactions." I first noticed it when I had a panic attack for just trying on pants at Target.
I always push my feelings down and try to hide them. I didn't want to bring my family and friends down, so I just kept it all inside. It wasn't healthy, I know, but remember at the time I wasn't really doing anything healthy. I mean... My hair was bright red during that spiral for God sakes.
It tears me apart every time and by the time I put all the pieces back together it happens all over again.
I need help, and I'm getting it now. It's going to be a long process, but I'm finally starting to work on it. But, in the mean time, these "reactions" are going to happen. I'm traumatized. I mean who wouldn't be.
I don't want you to be annoyed with me. For most of you, I don't even expect you to understand. Everybody's experience is different, but please... Just see what I go through. I don't want you to be forever cautious around me or avoid me because of these, but I just feel like you need to know.
Again, I don't need you to understand. I just need you to be more understanding.
Every time I lie down on my bed I think about him holding me down.
Every time I go for a swim and hold my breath I think about him cutting off my air supply to get me to shut up.
Every time I go in a dressing room I break down and cry when unbuttoning my pants because it reminds me of him ripping my pants off me.
Every time my boyfriend kisses me or holds my hand I feel like it’s him forcing me to do that and I need to run away.
Every time I have my fucking period it reminds me of my blood he spilled.
Every time I get light headed I think of him knocking me out to finish off inside me without any fuss.
Every time I have a sleepover I freak out because my roommate didn’t come home in time to save me.
Every time I snuggle in my bed sheets I have to wash them like 5 times because these were the ones I had that night and I can’t afford new ones.
Every time I have sex now I’ll get scared if I close my eyes for too long because I’ll think that it’s him.
I can’t shower in college communal bathrooms anymore because I remember breaking down and crying there for hours scrubbing my skin until I practically bled trying to cleanse myself.
I can’t trust therapy because when I went to one at my old college they used my assault against me.
Every time I look at the stuffed animal my little brother gave me before college so he'll always be with me, I think of when the assault was happening and I looked at it and thought that I actually let him down.
Any good moment I have in my healthy relationship with my boyfriend is ruined for me as it reminds me of the dark times that imprint my life. It makes sure to remind me that I am scared of him. It has a hold on me.
I like to sleep with my bedroom door locked because if I kept my dorm door locked he wouldn’t have broken in and raped me.
Every time I smell violet Febreze I have a panic attack because that was the spray I had to use to try and get rid of the smell when I woke up after my assault.
Every time I use Oxy Clean I think of me hysterically crying as I scrubbed the hell out of my blood on my sheets trying to get my self and living quarters back to normal.
Anytime someone grabs my wrist I flinch and almost scream because of the way he almost broke mine when he grabbed it and held me down.
So... Friends. Family. Please be patient with me. I am trying. I am working on getting better.
It is not my fault.
I am not being "over dramatic."
I am trying my best. I am recovering. It will take time. Be patient with me. Comfort me.
Don't put me in more discomfort than I already am.
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