28 – Divorce

Now… After all the unevitable events. Divorce is the only option. It is happening… starting.. on-going…

After all the pain I have gone through, I do not think anything will ever be equally painful. It has been painful because people cannot relate to my pain. They cannot understand what it means to be raped. They cannot comprehend what it means to be forced to strip off, and show what I do not want to show. This pain of being forced to surrender. This was one of the most painful incidents that I have experienced. It took away my will to know anyone again, my sexual desire, my interest in people, my safety, my psychological sanity, and it doubled my fears few thousand times.

Divorce became inevitable. I have no interest to try anything anymore with anyone who caused me pain. With my husband, he was the reason why I wanted to suicide. I could not forgive him for that. His kindness, later empathy, and support could not omit the wound he caused me. His wound was deeper than rape itself. Rape caused me a deep wound, which is still bleeding until today.

However, my husband, my future-ex, did not stop pushing that bleeding wound ever since it happened. He was thinking that he helped me, but it only got worse.

Divorce is the decision that I had to take for all of us. It wasn’t only because of the rape, but in a dying marriage, when rape happens, it definitely dies without any hope to rescue it.


27 – Strength

Strength is here and back. More than what I ever had or felt. Nothing stops me now. I found the point where I found my strength and became the unstoppable.Nothing will stop me.I found peacefulness to what happened. I kicked his ass. I threatened him back. I had the strength to face the whole world and stand up on my feet. I identified what I want, and hunted it. Nothing will stop me again. I am proud of this strength. Today after 5 months of the rape…. I can proudly announce that I am free, and willing to grow like that. With this extreme strength that does not allow my feet to shake.

The End

This is the end of a phase.. where my life was turned upside down. The end of a story where my life stopped. The end of an era of nonsense. This is the end of all stories which ate my soul and ruined my body. This is the end.. when nothing else would be able to stop in front of me.

26 – PTSDs

Trauma is still here. Life after trauma is not still the same, but I believe it will come back again. I wish so hard to have the chance to be the same again.

Slowly now, after almost 4 months, I started to look forward to book a vacation somewhere in summer. I was so desperate before that I did not want to leave home. I see it as a positive sign, that I am looking forward for a couple of months away. It hasn’t been the case for a while now. 4 MONTHS! I cannot believe all that time passed.

Now, I still freeze at certain situations. Few days ago, I was walking down the hall at work when I noticed that guy who was 30 meters away. HE HAD SAME EYES AND NOSE of the rapist. I froze for a bit of a second, and I took the other way not to get closer to him. I did not like my response. I knew it is unreal. But this is how PTSD works, the brain creates naive self-defense mechanisms out of the illusion that it is protecting itself from danger.

Then that other night, when my best friend helped me carrying many things to my apartment. So, we spent less than 3 minutes alone in my place. But once he got closer to see one of the paintings on my wall, my brain froze again. It perceived the situation as danger. As the therapist told me, this is what my brain perceived: “Alone with a man in a room… DANGER“. Which was not true. It took me a fraction of a second to realize that this is my sincere best friend that I fully trust. This is not a dangerous situtation. He will not harm me, and I calmed down my terrified mind.

I hate those moments of unexplained fear. I hate that they were never there before, but now they come pretty often. I hate how I see the rapist in many of the faces, which ends up me avoiding those people. I hate all of those consequences of PTSD. Meanwhile, I am glad that there is progress. I am looking forward for the near future, because I believe I can still feel happy again with those little plans….

25 – Backfiring

I fired back.. and I am relieved………….

I backfired that so-called friend who threatened me with the video. I got extremely angry and I insulted him. Assholes are all-around…

I asked him to forward my backfire to the rapist. However after a couple of days, I was still burning with anger and rage. I decided eventually after consulting my best-friend that I would send my threats directly to the rapist, just to make sure that he understood it. The goal of my threat was to make him stop any more stupid actions. I wished that he calms down that I would not do anything anymore and move on. Instead of spending the rest of his life scared and hiding. He can hide without thinking to harm me.

I threatened him that I can ruin his career, because I can ruin his reputation. I warned him that no one would come to him as a man who messes around with girls, who betrayed his wife, and who turned his back on his 1 month old baby. I threatened him that I have nothing to fear. I warned him that Karma exists, and even if he did not see me pushing strong enough on that video, my “No” was clear. Even if he wants to fool others around that I did not push strongly enough.

I told him in front of people may be he is only a coward, a betrayer and a bastard. For me he is a rapist, as well as for God. If he does not know it, so here I am stating it again. He is a rapist who stole something which does not belong to him.

I fired back that asshole. Now I am relieved. This is me, the strong survivor of such a crime, firing back my rapist with all the tools I had. Apparently, I managed to scare the shit out of him. I guess after all, I won my fight…

It is a matter of time, until I full heal.. I hope!

24 – Threats

Today, after almost 3 months, I received that phone call. A common friend between me and that rapist, telling me that he watched the video.

The rapist showed him a video of me being raped. He saw my reaction, my frozen weak reaction. He questioned my story. He said my story has no ground to prove it. He threatened me to leak that video to my family, which frustrated me.

I told him I do not care what he saw. He has no clue what psychology is. He shall tell that to God. He should be honest with God about what he did to me. I asked him whether he saw me saying No. He said that he did see that no, but he did not see me pushing anyone away. So, it seemed that I enjoyed it, which is so stupid, so frustrating and so unfair.

I find it unbelievably strange to find a friend telling me he saw me being raped, and he does not believe it. I find it even stranger that he finds me fooling around. I find it shitty that the rapist knows the truth, and he is convincing himself of his innocence. He is a coward asshole, who damaged my tempers, and drained my patience.

23 – How I feel…

Now it is almost three months since the rape. I feel more stable, but still, that part of me is lost. It does not seem to be repairable. I cannot re-connect to my soul again. I feel that part of my soul died during that rape, and there seems to be no way to get it back.

I have lost interest in people. I am no longer eager to stay with humans. Any male is a potential threat. Any female is a potential judge. I hate them both, so I decided to keep myself on a large safe-distance from everything and everyone I know – including my husband-.

Today, I was googling, when I stumbled upon those paragraphs, they all related to me, and what I have lost after that day…

“I just don’t even know who I am anymore” is a statement I often hear while working with domestic abuse victims — one that saddens me, and is reflective of an issue that no one seems to be talking about. The girl uttering those words was a rape victim, and I was leading a support group for assault survivors. Someone stole her body, and with it, they took part of her soul.

I know what that feels like — because when someone used my body against my will, they took a hell of a lot more than just what they were after. They took pieces of my identity, pieces that I needed back. Because, you see, it wasn’t just my body that was stolen, but my entire sexual identity.

Who was I now? I thought I had known who I was before my assault, but now, afterwards, I didn’t have the slightest clue.

Day after day, I would avoid the mirror, and resist looking at my flesh while I got dressed. I didn’t want to see my body, because I didn’t want to remember what someone had done to it — and to me. If I didn’t look, it couldn’t hurt. And eventually, it no longer hurt, because I barely existed. I detached from myself, just as many rape victims do, severing the mind and body connection; I existed, but existed more in the space around me than within my own skin.

This kind of detachment is so common, in fact, that it’s actually listed as a symptom for PTSD (post-trauma stress disorder) in all the rape crisis manuals. I understood what was going on, and because of that, I did everything that I was supposed to do. I saw a counselor, I went to the support groups, I read the books. And although I finally came to the understanding that what happened to me was not my fault, I still couldn’t get back everything that I had lost.

Walking through my day-to-day life, my confidence was gone, and my sense of security shattered — and with it had gone all the parts of me that I trusted. I tried to move on with my life, and pretend as though everything was normal. But inevitably, the reality of how wrong everything felt would come crashing back to earth in the most inopportune moments — moments that usually involved a male partner.

I was more than awkward during those moments. I found myself fumbling through the motions and as my clothes would come off, the shame I felt inside would take over. With each layer of clothing that was removed, I found myself building a mental barrier that carried into the bed. I didn’t want my partner to know my body, because I didn’t know it anymore. Someone had done things to it that I didn’t want done, and while I had been working hard to process that on an intellectual level, no one had talked to me about what that meant on a physical level.

Sex after rape is a whole new ballgame, and the first step — reconnecting with your own body — is the hardest one to take. Learning to reconnect with something that was so badly hurt is painful. Unfortunately it’s a process that many women struggle through alone, just as I was doing.

Then one night, after a particularly uncomfortable evening with a man I was dating at the time, I found myself standing alone in front of the mirror. I let my clothes slip to the floor and for the first time in a long time, I looked at myself. The person staring back at me seemed more like a childhood friend than the woman I was now. Someone I used to know, loved even, but after so much time and so much change, I wasn’t exactly sure who she was anymore.

But I didn’t stop looking. I’m not sure why and I can’t really explain it, but I knew that I wanted to get to know her again — to find her, wherever she was, and to remember everything she used to be.

I wanted to get to know me again.

Original post here: https://www.bustle.com/articles/80961-i-am-a-rape-victim-who-tried-stripping-as-a-part-of-my-recovery-and-it