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My Memories Are Haunting Me

I was date raped by two men eighteen years ago, while visiting a friend at college. I never thought of it as rape since I was drunk. I didn’t say no or resist. I was in and out of consciousness, until I finally passed out. I finally woke up to it still going on. I was very sexual after that and slept with anyone who wanted it, even if I didn’t.

A few years after that I was coerced into sex by a friend of a friend. I was alone with him at my apartment. I think he had driven me home from my friend’s house, but I don’t remember. I wasn’t drinking, and it was the afternoon. He was pressuring me to have sex and would not take no for an answer. I was afraid he would be violent if I kept resisting, so I eventually asked him if he would leave if I had sex with him. He said yes. I just laid there like I was dead, while he had sex with me.

I never considered myself a victim, or thought of either of these events as rape.

I always blamed myself and thought of them as my own fault for being stupid and easy. I am married and much older now, and in the past few weeks these incidents came back in my memory. I am now thinking of them as rape and starting to be very upset. How can this be affecting me eighteen years later?

My Daughter Is In An Abusive Relationship

My daughter is now 25 and has three children. She has been raped and was hospitalized because of it. She has been strangled to near death and is emotionally and physically abused.

She has been married to her abuser for six years now and believes she loves him. He has isolated her totally from all family, friends, any past acquaintances, and moved her to another state. He abuses their children too, who are 7, 5, and 7 months old. He has forced alcohol down their throats, shot them with a BB gun, left them on their own at 6 and 4 years old for hours at a time.

He now owns a gun and is a convicted felon.

My daughter does not communicate with me now. I love her and my grandchildren so much, but do not have any way to tell them that.

I am looking for advice on how to deal with this, help her see what is happening or how to stop this. I have tried to educate myself so I can help her, but she won’t let me help. I guess it has to be this way until she decides differently.

Any advice you can give me would be much appreciated. Thanks, The Band, for listening!

December 4

He was my friend, a coworker I trusted.

I have a boyfriend and kids.

Why was I at his house?
 
Why did I let him pay attention to me at all?
 

I shouldn’t have been there. It was my fault. I led him on, let him believe that I liked him.

Maybe I did. Maybe I did enjoy the rush of having a man fawn over me like I was something special. I’ve never been treated that way before.

My ex-husband cheated on me and replaced me without looking back. He filed for divorce on our seventh wedding anniversary, saying our marriage “didn’t mean anything anymore.”

And I guess it didn’t. Not to him.

I was tossed aside like trash.

My current boyfriend of 4 years lets me in, then pushes me away. It’s a constant cycle, a roller-coaster of emotions.

Finally, on December 4, 2015, I gave up fighting for him.

I accepted the offer from this man, my friend, my confidant at work. He was nearly 20 years older and told me repeatedly how beautiful I was. He fed my bruised ego. I let him. I went to his house, and I stood in his kitchen, crying about the man I loved who had pushed me away again.

He walked behind me and pushed himself against me, trapping me against the counter. He pushed his hand down my pants, and I said, “NO!” I went to get my shoes and purse. He pushed me down and pulled my pants and underwear down.

He forced himself inside of me.

I said, “NO!” I pushed him off of me and he grabbed my head and pushed his dick in my mouth. I nearly vomited and jerked myself away.

I SAID NO!

I ran to the bathroom and locked the door.

I got out of the house and tried to block the memory out – until I saw him at work the following week. He told me that he thought I would be more “accommodating.”

I didn’t call it rape. I felt guilty and full of shame. After all, I went there. I led him on. I “had sex” with him. Sometimes the logical side kicks in and says, no. You didn’t do anything wrong.

It’s not your fault. You didn’t “have sex.”

He raped you.

He stole something from you.

Until that day, I’d only had sex with two men, my husband and my boyfriend. I was a 35 year old woman who trusted someone. I hid my feelings and apologized for my actions.

I didn’t go to the police right away. It took over a month. The only thing that gave me the courage was to look at my little girls.

How could I possibly teach them that no means no? I said no. It didn’t matter. And now I have to learn to live with it.

I’m scared all the time.

I’m anxious, nauseous, angry.

A Warning That I Wish Came With My Life

To the 2 year old little girl, Allison, with brown eyes that love everyone and everything you are perfect never change.

3 year old Allison:

The dog bite and 120 plus stitches you will need in your face will only hurt for a little bit. It’s what comes later that will really hurt you.

4 year old Allison:

The daycare teachers and other kids at daycare will call you the ugly duckling. Don’t cry to much about it because at the end of the story the duck ends up being a swan. But that’s just a story and stories aren’t true. Right?

5 year old Allison:

Now is when you should try and run away from people. Here is when you change schools for the first time and you have to deal with the bullies again. Now is when you will have to talk to the state police about your aunt sexually harassing and sexually assaulting you for a couple of years. But that’s okay because that’s how you show people you love them. WRONG!!!! Now is when all the nightmares will start and you won’t sleep for the next couple of weeks and, sleeping the next couple of months without waking up screaming will be a miracle.

6,7,& 8 year old Allison:

These years will be different right? Wrong! These years the bullies get worse because they make new friends and become “Popular”. Don’t worry about what popular means you’ll find out within the next couple of years. But on the plus side you make a few new friends too. The downside to these friends one will steal your things when you have her spend the night, one will hate you most of the time, and the other is a boy that only has you for a friend.

9, 10, 11, & 12 year old Allison:

Those boys who always “pick on you” as the teachers call it only do it because they like you. Let me tell you how wrong that is. Those boys don’t like and probably never will. They are rude and can get away with murder because their dad is the big man at the school. You will be hurt emotionally, physically, and spiritually because of these boys and the fact that no one will help you because their daddy signs everyone’s paychecks. The teachers will say money is more important than you. You can’t get help.

You’ve made it this far through hell. Don’t look anyone in the eyes and don’t speak unless spoken too. You will break down in tears because now the boys are sexually harassing you and it brings back the nightmares. But still no help.

13 year old Allison:

You move schools to a place where no one knows your name. You will feel relief but only till a group of girls start to bully you. Those girls don’t matter though because later on they will become so of your closest friends. What really matters is that at the end of the year there will be a boy who takes his junk out in science class and measures it to see how manly he is. He will blame you on telling even though you didn’t. He will tell you that he is going to make small but deep cuts on you after he beats you so you will feel pain and slowly bleed out. The nightmares will come back but now you have him and his “manhood” threatening to kill you after your aunt takes advantage of you. You start to cut.

14, 15, & 16 year old Allison:

You’re in high school. The first day will go okay until you run into him in the hallway and you have a panic attack. You will have a panic attack at least once a day and will end up with a few new cuts for every panic attack. The nightmares will start again and for every sleepless night you add a couple of new cuts. Your wrist will be stained red for awhile but that’s okay because you realize how poetic black is and you wear it almost every day.

17 year old (Present day) Allison:

You have stopped cutting and hopefully for good this time. You never see him at school anymore but that’s because he is in a different building now. You’re a senior in high school, have panic attacks, social anxiety, and migraines often. You are falling apart and you shouldn’t be. You’ve been through so much that you will be up one night at 12 writing this warning because the nightmares wont stop and you haven’t been able to sleep all week because of them.

Thanks to all the crap that has happened I don’t feel. The only time I ever feel anything truly is when I physical hurt myself or when I have the nightmares. Other than those times I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s not normal for a 17 year old girl to not feel emotions. I talk to my mom about all of this all the time; she just doesn’t know how bad all this actually is. 

Am I the only one who feels this way? Am I the only 17 year old who questions life, God, death, and emotions?

Questioning

I was friendly. That’s all.

He was my friend.

He asked me to go with him to feed his rabbits. How could I say no? I love rabbits. So we went.

They were trying to nibble at my fingers when I felt him come up behind me. I asked him what he was trying. He didn’t even say a word before he turned me around and forced his lips on mine. I pulled back…or tried to. In a second, his hands had already torn my bra off. Believe me, I was fighting. I mean, I liked him, but not that way. I kicked, I punched, I begged… We were up against a wall when he tried to rip my pants off. I was trying desperately to reason with him. Nothing could fend him off. He lifted and started carrying me to his quarters. I couldn’t even move one of his fingers away. He was too strong. He put me down to open the door and there I strangled him. He was laughing. How?

He relented for a second, and I ran. I climbed the gate and ran home.

I’ve been crying.

I can’t stop.

He texted me the next morning saying I was a good kisser.

I want to kill him.

I was once in a similar situation. Called the cops. But now, do I send this man to prison? Again, we were friends.

What if I see him again? Will I run? We’re almost neighbors.

He didn’t rape me. But he was going to. Was he?

Am I just a walking vagina?