Sometimes wrong
Life is hard. When you think that things are going right, they can go really wrong.
I think a lot about the concept of story-rich adventure video games and wonder, “Damn, what if we had the ability to see the three different paths you can go down for every decision you make?” Would you use it? Would you start over the “game” if you do not like the results you received? I know that everyone thinks about choices they’ve made in the past and daydream of what could have been if you changed just one thing that day. And yes, it is unhealthy to live in the past, but it is a natural human reaction/emotion to feel down about things from your past. It is how you deal with these emotions that keep you apart from the persons who live in their pain. Here’s my biggest pain and how I dealt with it.
At 14 years old, I was raped by a classmate’s older cousin. I made decisions that put me in the wrong place at the wrong time. Unfortunately, at the time. we lived in a world where those decisions are what people focused on, not what happened when they were already taken. I understood what I did to get me there may have been risky for my safety, but I did not realize that it could happen to me until it happened (Classic case of indestructible teen). When the rape happened I kicked and pushed to no avail and at one point I just blacked out and when I made it to a safe place I looked towards my friends for support and help.
The aftermath was probably more painful for me because it was like it never ended. My friends took one look at me and thought I was just off being “scandalous” because the male left marks on me. I had to wear the shame around my neck as if living my worst nightmare. I couldn’t take it any more so I burst into tears and they instantly changed their demeanor. Through tears, I told them what happened and they carried me off to the social worker’s office. There I was left alone with her until she reached my family, the social worker called the hospital ahead and advised my parents to take me there for testing and to file the report. The moment we got in the car, my mom turned around and slapped me numerous times yelling at me that “why did I put myself in that situation and that it was my fault. I just cried quietly to myself. At the hospital, I wanted to be alone for all the testing because I did not want my mom staring at my anymore. When the officer came, I asked to speak alone, I didn’t want my family there as they weren’t really supportive. The assigned therapist came in and of all the people I saw that horrible day, she was the first and only person who told me, “No matter what happened to get you there, it is not your fault this happened. The moment you felt uncomfortable and said no, that man should have let you go.” I never cried harder in my life, and it was to a complete stranger, not even to my own mom. She called in my mom and gave her the card for the group therapy sessions but I never saw that card or went to any therapy. Everyone around me had to find ways to cope with the rape. My rapist’s cousin from my class went on to tell everyone that I wanted it and it was my fault. My mom made it about herself saying things like “how could you do this to me and your dad?” My brothers kept driving me around and asking me where it took place, but I blacked out a lot of it and couldn’t remember well what neighborhood or house it was. Frankly, I was afraid that my brothers would actually kill whoever just to find comfort, so I was genuinely glad to dodge that. My friends were either nervous to talk about it too much or were overly comforting, constantly checking on me to make sure I was stable. But what about me?
I went back to school 3 days later and excepted my fate of being seen with the marks and knowing some people knew about parts of my trauma, but no one knew the whole story and they never would. I found comfort that it was my story to be told and no one else. I did live in fear that he would come back because he did evade the police and left the country, but one day I woke up and realized that if I lived in fear of him for the rest of my life, I would be giving him the same power he had over me that dreadful day. I promised myself I would never let anyone else have that control over me again and when I would trust someone it would be at my pace, it would be my choice and no one else. I had to learn to have thick skin, but to also feel everything because if I locked it all away I would never get past the pain. I healed slowly but I blocked out my parents negativity, my brothers aggression about it and did what was best for me. I meditated A LOT, I laughed, I cried when I needed to, and I remembered. I remembered that it could happen to anyone, that everyone deals with things differently and that you need to find the best and healthy way to heal for yourself.
Don’t look to change your past, because you can’t. Instead learn about yourself and what your needs are, what would help you heal? Don’t be afraid to try new things in a safe, healthy way. Self care is the time to be selfish.
Find your safe, healthy space.
If you want to talk to someone who has been through it, chat it up, I’m right here.
-SometimesDars