The after effect...part 2

As I ran out of the house and into the freezing cold I could not keep it together....the tears wouldn't stop falling which pissed me off because I wanted to remain strong and not let anyone know what had just happened but on that morning my emotions got the better of me and I allowed myself to just loose it...so much so that I never put my coat on...which I only realized once my best friend, at the time, reminded me of after I called her and she picked me up, I was like a walking frozen zombie. She asked if I was crazy standing outside with no coat on, I didn't really have an answer, just sat in the car looking crazy and saying over and over and over in my head....did that really just happen? Finally I just let it all out....I think I cried, screamed  and did a lot of cursing the rest of that day off and on. I told my friend what happened and she is the one who convinced me to go to the hospital who in turn called the police which just made my day worse. As I lay on the bed while they took samples and swabbed for any dna evidence I began to shake with fear so much that everyone thought I was still cold. But no, I was terrified of what I may have. I stared a the ceiling thinking to myself, what if I'm hiv positive, what if I have a disease what if...what if...until I drove myself crazy(btw clean bill of health) Finally the police arrived. While I respect the cops, they should never ever ever ever and I mean EVER send a man to take a rape report. Their first question to me was...so tell us "what happened?", obviously the need to know so fine...I go through the whole story again and one of them very rudely stops me and asks "how tight was my sweater?" the other one asked "was the sex consensual?" AND OMG I freaking lost it on the both of them. If I'm filing a rape report...how was it consensual? I didn't want to talk to them or anyone else for that matter. I don't think they meant to be idiots, I'm sure they were "just doing their job" but it made me feel as though I was walking around yelling "HEY!!!! someone please come and violate me". I had already explained to them that I knew these guys since elementary school and their parents knew my parents and never would I have thought they would have done to me what they did. Besides I was already annoyed with myself more than anyone, I yelled at myself for getting in the car, for getting out the car and going in the house, for even going out and having a good time...but then I realized no matter what I should have or should not have done that doesn't give anyone the right to take from me what is not theirs to take. I was constantly reassured from friends that it wasn't my fault... I tried so hard to believe it and just move on but that night was burned in my head and continued to play over the next few years to the point of haunting me. Every time I closed my eyes to sleep I was back in that house reliving it again and again until soon it began to disrupt my day to day life. I stopped hanging out with my friends, stopped talking to people and barely went to classes until the only thing I did was work  and go home to cry alone. I became very distant, bitter and overflowing with pure hate. I think I hated being me the most. I took a bottle of sleeping pills and woke up two days later in the hospital. Ughhhhhhhh, I yelled to myself...why am I still alive? Literally I screamed it out so pissed, "I don't want to be here" and just then a nurse walked in so sweet and smiling letting me know "It's a miracle your still alive, your land lord got you here just in time" (my landlord had come to fix my sink and when I didn't answer she let herself in) she went on to ask me if I want to talk to anyone about why I want to take my life. I shook my head no. The day I was being discharged a psychologist asked me if I would be willing to voluntarily admit myself to an institute for a little while so they can be sure I'm ok. I knew I needed the help but I refused to go. I tried one more time after that to take my life and failed yet again. Obviously I'm supposed to be here, I thought to myself, but for what? I wasn't able to maintain a relationship because the thought of any guy touching me or having sex made me want to vomit, so why does God want me to go on living? Does he enjoy seeing me live a hell on earth life every day, waking up every night because my dreams are always invaded by the same reoccurring nightmare? WTF? Why can't I just have some peace? Those douche bags get to move on like nothing ever happened and I'm stuck, not able to move forward. It wasn't fair and it seemed that my life would never be normal again. Over the next few years things for me just spiraled rapidly downward. When I did decide to date again I made the most God awful choices in men and found myself in an abusive relationship. I so loathed my very existence.

** I will be doing this blog in parts, so it is not so much to read.  Thank you so much for taking the time to read about my story. I will be back on Tuesday January 17, 2012