I feel so disgusting. I feel
like there’s a pound of dirt on my skin and there’s nothing I can do to get it
off. I feel like no matter how many times I scrub my skin it will never be
clean again. I fight this feeling every day, all day long.
I don’t know if it’s
because I’m single now and I’m free. Like I feel everything they did to me. Last
night while I was sleeping I could feel Banky inside of me. I felt him inside
my vagina. It felt like I was on fire…
I need to write more. I feel
really hurt right now. This bath isn’t really helping either. It feels like I’m
swimming in a tub of their semen and I can’t get out without cleaning myself
first. It just feels like my skin is on fire all the time and I can’t stop the
burning. Last night I had night terrors. I could taste his semen in my mouth, I
tasted him and I still can taste him and it just makes my stomach hurt and
upset and I wish I could just throw it all up so I can get it out of my body. Every
place on my body that they touched me is burning right now. It’s like their
fingerprints have been burned into my body and I’m trying to cut them off just
to get my skin back.
The good thing about us separating
is I can stop pretending. I can stop pretending that it doesn’t hurt when it’s
really killing me inside. No one will really understand how it feels unless they've
been through it before. I can sit here and explain until I’m blue in the face what
the flash back feels like. I can try to tell you what it feels like to have the
same nightmare about being raped over and over again. And as many times as you
may tell me it’s just a bad dream, it’s not. It really happened. It’s a reality
that keeps replaying its self over and over again. Yes I know and understand
that it may not happen again but the fact that it has happened already hurt. Living
that same nightmare over and over again hurts. Being raped over and over again
in that dream (that really happened) hurts. It’s not just a mental thing it’s
physical also. What they did to me was not right. It hurt me in so many ways I didn’t
realize until now.
They took a part of me I can’t
get back and that’s what hurts. I was a child when I was molested the first
time. For 2 years I didn’t say anything because I was scared I would get in
trouble by my mom. She knew and didn’t do anything. She knew and made me play
with him anyway. She still fuckin knows and still lets him come to the house
like its nothing. Frank hurt me. I don’t want to talk about that right now
because its making me sick thinking about it. I pressed charges against Banky
and somehow or another they still made it my fault. Why did I left him touch
me? Why did he drive me home? Why did I let him give me oral sex? Why? Why? Why?
Who fuckin cares???? My dad told me not to tell anyone about what happened, my mom
said something about therapy 5 years after it happened. You stupid ignorant
bitch, that would have helped me 5 God damn years ago. The damn damage is done
now.
Like how do you explain
to someone new you’re dating that you have flashbacks and panic attacks. Every single
time you have to start over with a new person. You have to re-teach your body
to get used to that persons touch and what they look like and constantly remind
yourself that they aren’t going to hurt you. Like it’s just an awkward
conversation to have with that person. And then when they leave because they
can handle you. Like what do you do in that situation? You can’t be mad at them
because they can’t handle it but it’s more like putting the blame on you. You’re
the one who’s feeling guilty even though you know it’s not your fault but you
feel like it because you’re the one who’s suffering. It’s your partner who can’t
handle what happened to you because of what someone else did to you. People don’t
fuckin understand that no matter how people react to you it always comes back
to what happened to you and it makes you feel like it’s your fault. You feel
bad when partners leave you ,you feel bad when you jump at him touching you
even though you know that he’s not going to hurt you, you feel bad when you
want to kiss that person but can’t because you’re having flashbacks of your
rapist holding you down, you feel bad. That bad feeling doesn’t go away overnight.
Damage….such a funny but
hurtful word. So many times I've been referred to as damaged good. As if I’m
some kind of damn broken package instead of a person with fuckin feelings. I am
not what happened to me. I am not rape, I am a rape survivor. Do not fuckin
define me by my past.
