They told me to keep quiet, to keep the peace, to make him comfortable. So the trauma danced around in my head, migrating into my chest and hardening my limbs. I carried the weight of it on my shoulders and in the pit of my stomach. I felt its unnerving embrace as I tried to sleep and eat and talk and survive.
It dug its teeth into my skin and burrowed inside me, permeating into every cell of my body until it became me and I became it.
I detached myself from reality. Familiarity ceased to exist, as the people that I once knew and trusted suddenly looked like imposters.
Who can I trust? Where can I go? Where can I feel safe?
Then came the chronic emptiness and numbness. This was the easiest part. I had shoved the trauma so deep inside that I couldn’t feel it but it had taken all of my other emotions down with it. I was a vessel, a stranger to myself.
The nightmares and the sleep paralysis began shortly after. Then came the immeasurable anger, which felt like a ball made up of lead and fire sitting inside my chest. An anger that I could only take out on myself.
A relentless state of high anxiety stopped me from eating and sitting still.
I became hyper-vigilant at all times. I trusted nobody, not even the strangers walking by me in the street. It felt like my life was fake and some kind of sick, twisted joke.
Being alone was debilitating but being around people made me feel empty. Binge eating just to feel something. Starving myself out of guilt and shame. I felt a profound nausea whenever I’d catch a glimpse of my body. Crying in the shower and in front of the mirror became a regular occurrence.
It was just one trauma, after many.
I had once believed that he measured my worth beyond my damage but then he damaged me too. Plummeting my self esteem into the ground. He took advantage of me until he had drained me of my resources, until there was nothing left to take and I had no value to him.
And then I was alone. Left to bear the consequences of his actions. Left to pick up the pieces of me that he’d broken.
Being perpetually re-traumatised with every trigger and every reminder. Suffocating under the burden of my silence.
Thank you so much for sharing this post. It’s beautifully written!
There is so much strength in sharing our stories. We take back the power our abuser once had over us.
Thank you for being so inspirational and strong.
I was sexually assulted back in 2013. I still have moment of pure terror. For me, it has been something I have had to learn to live with. Talking has really helped me!
Danielle | thereluctantblogger.co.uk
That’s terrible. I’m so sorry you experienced this. I can’t even imagine.
There are no excuses for his actions. None. And what in the blue blazes were those people thinking, “make him comfortable?” If he wanted peace, he could’ve been peaceful. No one says this stuff with thieves or murderers. If a burglar breaks in, no one is like, “Well, you should’ve have bars on your windows,” or “Keep the peace, don’t report it to the police, don’t ruin the burglar’s life.” The burglar had a choice, and ruined his/her own darn life, and so do rapists, and both deserve a prison sentence. And don’t ruin their life…but it’s okay that they destroyed someone else’s?
I hope it isn’t somehow wrong to say that this is beautifully written, because it is. I genuinely hope you find healing.
I stumbled upon your blog a while ago. it really resonated with me. I did notice you have not posted anything since this post… I just wanted to reach out to you to see if you are ok…
Thank you so much for reaching out, that’s very kind. I did take a pretty long break from blogging after this, it just seemed a lot more difficult to write for some reason. But I’m doing okay thank you!
I have been there and it’s a terrible thing to endure. It seems like a never-ending hell. And some of the scars that remain go very deep. I’m sorry for what you’ve endured. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks for posting this. You make such pertinent points, illustrating the many ways sexual assault affects you. In particular, being violated when you can’t speak out makes inner dialogue much more likely, and anger turned on yourself adds to the destruction of inner peace.
I came across your Blog yesterday while searching for support groups online. First I want to say Wow! I am deeply sorry for what you went through. It’s not fair and no one should have to go through what we have been through. I agree it’s like living in hell. Thank you for sharing. You have no idea how much of an effect your words have had. I felt alone. I feel like you just told my story! I wish I could meet you in person and give you a hug. God bless you! Good Luck!