I have considered myself to have died twice in my life. Both times emerging as a person whose been shattered and feel like I am not worth a darn. Here is my story. This may trigger.
My what I consider my first death occurred only at the age of 10 years old at the hands of an old army buddy of my father's who just showed up out of the blue. My dad picked him up at a local motel and allowed him to stay with us. No one noticed the unusual amount of attention he was paying to me. I even called him an uncle. Since my parents never really paid any attention to me, as a matter of fact the never wanted me (that's another story), I ate up all the attention this man gave me. It didn't happen until a week later. My parents had gone to work and left me with him instead of going to my normal babysitter's. I went into the basement to wake him up like my mother asked prior to her leaving for work and he asked me to lay in bed with him. I did uncomfortably, and I kept feeling him wiggling behind me. After about 10 minutes I told him I wanted to go back upstairs and watch TV. He came up approximately 5 minutes later and sat on the couch with me and was rubbing my back. H! e stopped and asked if I wanted to feel something good. I as stupid as I was said, "Yes". He pushed me up to the other end of the couch and began kissing me in the mouth and groping my body. He took my shirt off and fondled me, and then his hands eventually made it into my pants. He hurt so bad, and his weight was pressing so hard upon me I couldn't move. He stopped at one point and kept asking me if I wanted him to stop, and why the hell I said, "No" I will never know. Better yet he kept asking me if we were going to get in trouble, and again I said no. He kept kissing me and asking me to be his girlfried. He kept playing with me like I was a doll. He did put his penis inside of me, and all I can remember is how bad it hurt. He also made me close my eyes and the next thing I knew, his penis was in my mouth. I wanted to fight and I didn't. It was like sitting up in the ceiling and watching what was going on and not able to stop it. I hate myself for that. I almost wish he had ! killed me if I had fought, at least then I could say I stood up for myself. Finally the bus came and he asked if i wanted him to go with me to the bustop, I told him no and got out. I was in so much pain, I couldn't walk. My friend made me go to my Aunt's house and she called the police. He was arrested and had warrants from 4 other states before he got to me. So I am nothing more than a statistic. To make matters worse, he got out of prison early and then did it again to two other girls who were my age. There were 7 of us all together. This made my relationship with my parents worse as they treated me as though it was my fault. Keep in mind, my parents got married because my mom got pregnant with me. She has always let me know what a mistake I was. I was also a scape goat for what was going wrong in their lives.
My 2nd death occured nine years later, by guy I was seeing. I met this guy through a mutal friend, and we kissed the first time we had met. The relationship started well, we went out to dinner, played computer games. Nothing happened but kissing. After about two weeks, we were at my house, watching a movie when we began to fool around. Things got out of hand, when he began kissing me so deeply, it made it difficult to get him to stop. He apologize profusely and I chalked it up to getting overly excited. Things were ok for about a week, Then he begged me to come over at about 2 A.M. I got the feeling something wasn't right with this, especially after giving him every excuse in the world not to come over, he wouldn't accept it. But I thought that maybe we had just gotten out of hand, that maybe things would be alright. I should have listened to my instincts, but I was stupid. When I got there, things were cool for a bit. He even cooked some food. It started out with a ! backrub. Once he knew I was vulnerable, he flipped me over and kissed me so deeply there was no way to say no. Before i knew it I was naked and again it was very painful. He had me pinned down so there was no way to fight. By the time he was done, I was bleeding and hardly able to walk. He took me home and I never reported it nor did I ever see him again. He didn't have to see me again to know that he had gotten the best of me by eliminating my ability to fight. After how I was treated the first time by my parents, I didn't wish to go through that again.
I truly hate myself for losing what was most important to me, what was my best quality or so I thought, the fact that I WAS a fighter. After losing that ability, I feel I have lost myself. I do not feel I will ever get that back. My inner child has died two times and I do not believe she will be born again. For that I truly hate myself.
I have never felt so young or so vulnerable in my entire life as i have ever since it happened. I was only 15 at the time and never ever even thought that it could happen to me. I was just a normal average teenage girl doing normal teenage things like shopping and having boyfriends...
But in one day all that ended and i grew up and became younger all in one day. He was a grown man and i still don't know how he could do what he did to me. What he did were things that i had never even thought about let alone thought that they were possible. I'm still not ready to talk about that day in detail but maybe one day i will and then i will be able to free myself of it...
Ever since that day (i still can't say the word) i have been scared of everyone - girls as well. i have distanced myself from all my friends and although i do have a boyfriend it is a struggle. Each day I have to fight with myself to not dump him. I know that I like him but i am so scared and sometimes it is all too difficult and i just want to dump him. But I know i can't because I have to get over this - i must become a survivor!
I've told a few people the bare minimum about what happened and all they said was that i should go to the cops. But this happened so so long ago - i was only a child and now i am an adult and it is not at all what i wanted. I just need to have some support and i need them to understand the shit i go through with the nightmres and flashbacks and depression. But none of them want to know about it. Some of my so called best friends even accused me of lying while the others just didn't want to know about it. I have never felt so alone in my entire life.
I know that this is probably not what a lot of you wanted to read. I'm sorry that i couldn't give you the details of what happened to me but for me it is more the pain of the flashbacks etc than the thing itself. This happened a long time ago and while i am safe from physical danger i don't feel it. I am scared of myself and the feelings i experience - while i would never kill myself i do wish i was dead. There is a lot about this story that i haven't yet disclosed and i hope that in time i will be able to but at the moment it is far to painful. I have set up an email account if you would like to write to me - all help would be appreciated. the address is firstname.lastname@example.org i would apprecite all help and i'm sorry that i haven't been able to give more details or be more open with my identity. Thanks for listening
I really can't believe that I even have a story to post here, but it helps me to tell it, so I suppose I have nothing to lose.
I was raped last month on the first day of spring break. I have been friends with Chris for 7 years. He was in many ways, my best friend. If I ever needed anything he was there, no matter what the problem was. And he was fun to be around. He always made me laugh. I didn't know it until earlier this week that he had a crush on me for 2 years. He never did anything about it, never asked me out, never even hinted. I will admit that we used to fool around a little, but it was mostly kissing. We called it "friends with benefits." When I started dating Stan, one of Chris's closest male friends, I noticed he began to change. He became more clingy and made passes at me frequently. He confronted me about how he felt. I had no idea how to handle it.
Stan and I had been dating for a little over a year when he asked me to marry him. I accepted. When we happily announced the news to Chris, I think he went a little crazy. His flirting worsened, and sometimes he would cuddle close to me if we were watching tv and try to kiss me. I would push him away and tell him I could not cheat on Stan. Slowly he began to withdraw from me. He didn't visit me nearly as much and just about stopped calling me. When we were online at the same time, it would be about 10 minutes before I would finally initiate conversation. I was pretty sad that someone so close was suddenly distancing himself. I should have embraced it, but how was I to know?
Spring break rolled around and Chris called and invited me over. He said his parents had gone away for the week and he was having a party. I went and I got pretty drunk. Chris had maybe 2 drinks and was definitely not. Stan had to leave early because of work the next day. He seemed worried before he left and asked if I wanted him to take me home. I wish to God that I had said yes. But I didn't. I told him he was being silly and that I was among friends. Plus I didn't want to go home drunk. He later told me that he had this overwhelming feeling that something wasn't right.
After Stan left, Chris said I had gotten to straight edge at college and invited me to do some shots. I did 4 shots of vodka, and I am a light weight. Chris did 1. He then announced that he was going upstairs to read a book. (he's weird like that, none of us really raised an eyebrow) I continued to sip beers for about 3 hours, while he was upstairs. I was very drunk. I don't really remember why I went upstairs, I think I just wanted to go to bed. I was a bit confused as to where I was going and randomly chose Chris's room. I barely noticed his presence. I didn't want to sleep in my jeans, so I took them off and crawled into bed next to him. Obviously, I realized he was there finally. I asked what he was reading and he pretty much told me an entire plot summary. All the while I was just lying there, not really listening.
Suddenly he started kissing me, and I didn't stop him. Honestly I was trying to figure out what was going on. The next thing I knew he was on top of me. He pushed my underwear aside and had sex with me. When I realized what was happening I began to quietly protest. I could barely get the words out due to the amount of alcohol I had drank. But I clearly said "Stop, I can't, No, I'm still with Stan, Stop." In an act of desperation I slung my hand on his back and tried to dig in my nails. That didn't work. I guess he decided he was done, and he got off of me.
I'm not sure what made him do this, maybe the look of shock on my face, but he started crying and apologizing. He said he was going to kill himself, he began swallowing pills. I freaked and put my fingers down his throat. He said he was going to cut his wrist and I hid his daggers. I was terrified. When he finally calmed down, he began talking to me about it as if we had just had consentual sex. He asked if I would tell Stan and I said of course I would. He tried to convince me not to saying "You and Stan are made for eachother. I don't think you should tell him. He'll break up with you. And he's miserable without you. You don't want to make him miserable and you don't want to be miserable. Don't tell him. Maybe a few years from now, but don't hurt him like that. Don't tell him."
Confused, shocked, upset, and very drunk, I went to bed in his parents' room with a chair propped under the door knob. I got one hour of sleep. When I woke up I was stone sober and I knew what had happened. I was scared, angry, and very very depressed. I got out of bed and called Stan and told him he had to come to Chris's house. He was there in a matter of minutes. I took him upstairs and told him everything. I will never forget the expression on his face. He held me for a long time, on the brink of tears. Then he told me to have Chris come in. He asked Chris for his side. Chris looked him right in the eyes and lied. He said "I was upstairs reading a book and I was trashed. Lisa came in, climbed on top of me, and said she wanted to have sex. I was too drunk to say no."
Stan left the house extremely upset. He knew that one of us was lying and needed time to think. He came to my house about an hour or so later, apologized for doubting me, and told me he loved me and it wasn't my fault. The story spread like wildfire and people began taking sides. People called me a slut and accused me of "crying rape." When people called me or imed me, I told them the real story, and tried not to care if they believed me or not. Chris began to get scared because he was losing friends fast and asked two girls to beat me up. They agreed. Luckily for me, a friend of mine told me about it and I called Chris. I told him that by not pressing charges I had done him an undeserved favor. I told him that if anyone touched me I would take him to court.
Suddenly the calls stopped, and those girls never came near me. I am now trying to recover from what happened to me. I've started seeing an on campus therapist and she has helped me tremendously. I know the road to recovery is going to be a hard one, but the future looks bright. Stan is here for me whenever I need him, and that reassures me that there are decent men in the world. And I adore him for it. I have told myself countless times never to say that I am a victim. I am a survivor.