The | Teen Ink

The

May 20, 2019
By WallflowerForTheGays PLATINUM, Pasadena, California
WallflowerForTheGays PLATINUM, Pasadena, California
21 articles 0 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
"You can never have Everest if you don't have a valley."<br /> - Eric Scott Gould


Rape goes deeper than the surface.

It's more than invading one's body, it's more than an act of force upon someone's physical being.

Rape, in some cases, can be a murdering of an individual's self.

Their morals and confidence, their passion and drive. Even their relationships with others are dramatically, un-wantingly, forever altered.

In my experience,

It doesn't seem to all hit right after the act.

It's a slow and agonizing, painful and destructive, path to eventual healing.

It's a journey that will leave a scar.

No matter how strong you are,

Or at least, once were.

This wound is not visible to all,

It is not self-healing,

It doesn't just close up over time on its own.

In fact,

Sometimes, it only later on, opens to show its depth.

Down the road, after you thought you packed it away nice and neatly with the purpose of not allowing anyone to suspect you had this baggage that you never wanted.

The weight that was shoved your way so violently.

It's pushed onto your shoulders by those who say things like,

"Maybe he didn't mean to. He probably thought you wanted to."

"Are you sure that's what happened?"

"Well, now you don't have to wait anymore."

"You could have stopped it if you really wanted to."

...Could have stopped it?

COULD HAVE STOPPED IT?!

Last I checked "no" means no.

That's all I should have had to do to "stop it".

But that didn't f***ing work.

Neither did trying to physically remove him from being on top of me.

His friends in the room next door might as well have been across the country.

And telling him I was a virgin and saving myself for someone special didn't help.

Neither did the tears that silently slipped down my face as I quietly told him he was hurting me.

The shock and disbelief kept me captive in that bed that night.

The night that someone so easily stole, something so precious to me.

I tell myself it's not my fault.

But my subconscious says to me it was.

Maybe he was right….

Laying my tired body so close next to him was such a tease.

I was asking for it.

How could I expect him to go to bed with a simple kiss goodnight?

Maybe they're right.

Saving my virginity was pointless anyway.

I had a crush on him so why be upset about it?

I tried to cope with it in different ways.

None the right and healthy way,

maybe that's why I'm so screwed up in the mind now…

I don't know how to look after myself.

My anxiety and depression must have a strong root burrowed in this because I didn't handle it how I should have. I made jokes.

I told him, myself & the ones who knew it was OK.

I tried to convince myself it wasn't rape.

I convinced myself for a while that I was fine.

I let him get away with it,

A decision I hate myself for.

I hate myself because I could have saved her from going through something similar.

Her pain is the sum of my silence.

I won't let him get away with it in my own internal world too.

Yes, I was drunk.

Yes, I liked him, trusted him, kissed and hugged him.

But isn't that all the more reason the blame is his?

He was my friend.

Why didn't he listen to me?

Why did he do this to me?

Why do I have to mentally and emotionally pay for his physical mistake?

It isn't fair.

I haven't been myself since that night.

Part of me died in that dark room.

I am afraid when left alone with someone of the opposite sex.

I keep my hands close to my body, subconsciously protecting myself from any possible unwanted touch.

The boys I like I can't trust.

I get nervous.

Who knows what their true intentions are?

I get quiet and try to not show too much interest. I don't want them to get the idea that I'd be down to have sex at their request.

The mark that rape leaves needs attention, from the victim and those around.

The process of healing can only start when you accept what has happened.

You must inspect it to be able to see that it doesn't define you, it wasn't your fault and you in are fact, still human, still loveable, still wanted.

Rape is more than sex.

It's emotional trauma to the head & the heart.

It ruins once lively spirits and replaces them with careful, anxious, unrecognizable and self-hating demons.

There is no difference between being raped and being pushed down a flight of cement steps expect that the wounds also bleed inside.

There is no difference between being raped and being run over by a truck except afterward men asked if you enjoyed it.

There is no difference between being raped and being bit by a rattlesnake except that people ask if your skirt was short and why you were alone anyhow.

There is no difference between being raped and going head first through a windshield except that afterward you afraid

Not of cars

But of half the human race

Rape goes deeper than the surface.



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