I'll get there.
I have half an hour before my alarm goes off but staying in bed was pointless because I woke up with tears in my eyes again.
I'm tired of this disrupting my sleep. I'm tired of it making me sick. I'm tired of being scared and looking over my shoulder and wondering what's going to happen next. I'm tired of wondering if I did the right thing, I know I did.
I told myself this would never happen to me again. Nothing like that would happen to me again, and if it did, I would report it, I'd get the son of a bitch locked up. It did, and I didn't. Because I didn't realize what had happened.
A friend of mine told me when this was first coming out, "Remember because of your history, you're more likely to be in denial about this stuff."
Because it's happened before. I couldn't acknowledge the "before" either, for years. Til it started waking me up with nightmares.
I got through that shit. I'll get through this.
At least it took less time this time.
I'm tired of living in the realm of calling it "what he did to me" and "something that happened." I'm really tired of "he took major advantage," or referring to it in the 3rd person, "my case," "criminal," blahblahblah. I'm tired of the word "date" being put in front of it to lessen the act.
Maybe someday I'll be able to get myself to say this out loud. This will be the first time I've written these words, and I've never said them: I was raped. A year ago.
And I wasn't on a goddamn date.
*exhale*
The Words
your blog is painful, beautiful and meaningful. keep speaking.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
ReplyDeleteIf you look behind you, I'll be there. Got your back, Rosie. There are others of us standing here too, to lend an arm when you're unsteady on your feet, or to lean in and give encouragement when you don't know what to say.
ReplyDelete