Let us begin

I believe. I believe that it is time to begin to discuss the inner aspects of the rape. I am now working with PD to begin discussing the recovery of this act. Yes, rape happens to many people and even men. It is [falsely] believed that men cannot be raped; it is untrue. It is more reported by women, but it does happen to men. And for this purpose, it is important to understand the process of recovery. It is important to begin to express survivorship and this is where I want to begin.

Let us begin.

In this book, there is a section devouted to working with a therapist and some guided questions. The author provides permission to take your time and to discuss the questions openly and thoroughly. I will be discussing these questions openly and thoroughly.

Let us begin.

1. How often do you think about  your rape, and do you feel like you have thoughts about it that you can't stop?

It has been 20 years now. I think about it a lot. There are more days that I think about it than others. Some weeks, it just is the most predominating of my thoughts. Some weeks may go by where I do not think about it. I try to force myself to not think about it at times. But, the memories are there and the side effect are there as well. I think about him. I think about what he is doing now and how his life has been changed from all of this. I think of why he did this and I think about how he can rationalize overpowering a woman to make himself feel like a man. I think of his manhood and I have thought about causing him physical harm; but it is a moot point.

I have thought about this for a long, long time. I think about his family and when I had told PJ. I remember that he had said that I had wanted it. I cannot remember if these memories have ever woke me up from a sound sleep; however, I do remember days where it has been difficult to go to sleep. I do remember the anger that I have had. I have hated myself and him and blamed myself for all of this happening. Even now, I hate that this has been a fixed part of my life that has been ever present. It is like an ugly guest that does not leave. It just sticks around. We know that the guest is there, but the guest just does not make any noise. WE can see the mess the guest leaves behind but nothing is said. I feel that no matter what room I go to, Rape is still there. Whenever I go anywhere, I feel like I am carrying Rape with me. I suppose, the best way of saying it would be, "don't get close, Rape might get upset". There is something to be said when this ugly guest has personification.

I perceive that this has impacted many relationships that I have. I feel that this keeps people at a distance because I cannot bridge the gap. I remember a day at a church BBQ where I had felt so out of place. Who to talk to; where to sit; how to just mingle. I remember being asked by PM if I wanted any coffee and he had shown me where the coffee was; I poured if for myself, and as I was standing at the counter, PM had stepped back from me to give me distance. (I have hated leaving my back open to being touched. It is a very open area of contention to me.) Although the intention was not to make me feel uncomfortable, it made me feel all that much more wretched. I wanted to leave, but my family was with me and I had to be very stoic about the situation. I did bear with it.

I have an excellent memory of those days. Yes, twenty years ago seems not far away at all. I battle with that. But, now, I believe that the days of remembering will be less invasive and will ease in time. I remember the days too well. I remember the look on his face when he did this. I remember some of the things he said when he forced me to perform oral sex. I remember the insults. I remember the days I hated myself for getting into the car. I remember the horrible brown car that he kept spotless. Why? Why did I go back? Why did I just not stop? Why did this have to happen? Why does a man who called himself a Christian bring himself to do somethign like this? Where was the justice? It was date rape and hard to prove. There was no evidence of this because he was impotent. He had no sperm and his rage over that grew. He was so angry and frustrated about not being able to ejaculate. He took it out on me. I remember saying NO! several times. I remember feeling, OH GOD! I remember fear. I remember hatred. I remember terror. I remember being trapped. I remember feeling helpless. I remember feeling worthless. I remember feeling like trash. I remember feeling like I could never recover. I remember feeling like I needed to hide what was done, what I had done and what I had allowed myself to go through. I remember feeling numb. I remember feeling like things were moving at a different pace and I remember forcing myself to get to a point where I could not wait to get home.

I look forward. When I look back to remember, it is not as menacing as it has been; however, I know that looking back will be difficult.

Pushing on. Pressing in. Looking forward and believing.