Once again sleep stays away. I decided to get up, read a bit…Came across a blog post from a rape victim, like myself. How many nights I’ve woken up from dreamless sleep, but wanting to scream. Fighting to wake up, breathing heavily. Feeling paralyzed, unable to do what I so desperately want to. I can never scream. I can’t make a sound.  All I know, as I’m waking up, is that I want to scream. It’s a strange feeling. Helpless, unable to let it out.

I often wonder if it’s an attempt to do what I couldn’t, so many years ago. Reading this lady’s post, I relived it with her. The experience, the paralyzing fear that prevents you from doing a thing. The feeling  of leaving your body. The “this is not happening to me right now” thoughts. Denial, yet, the unmistakable awareness of being violated.

She also has “gaps” in her recollection. Time stood still and as I was intoxicated as well. There are moments I will never remember. The silent screams, stuck in my throat, the agonizing thoughts of wanting to die, but at the same time, wanting to live.  I wonder if he thinks about it? I wonder if he has a family, children, daughters.

She went to her friends’ house. I went back to my room. She called the authorities, I was too ashamed. She shared the burden, I kept it secret. She said something that I realised I did as well. She convinced herself, it didn’t happen. I did this so well, it’s the only way I coped. I was alone, broken, abused, lost identity. Broken winged, scarred soul.

It’s difficult to explain to someone how you feel after an experience like this. How profound the effects are. My silent screams still haunt me when I try to sleep. I wonder if my subconscious still battles with him. Trying new ways of stopping it from happening. Figuring out a way that I can have my special moment with that special someone. When I feel hopeless, unloved, unwanted, I sometimes think it’s because of this. I’m too broken to be loved or wanted.

He never watched my face. I was raped from behind. My face pressed into his hand on my mouth. And today, this is the way I like it. I can’t look into another’s eyes. I hide my pleasure and pain. It’s too intimate, too revealing.

There are certain events that stays with you. That shapes you into the person you become. The events you have no control over, are the ones that stays the longest. But tonight, I want to stop trying to control it. Especially as that moment has passed. It can never be controlled, changed or be different. It is what it is, was what it was.  Maybe this is the secret to getting over it. Finally realising there is nothing you can do to change it. No amount of crying. No amount of anger. The anger with life for dealing you this card. No amount of writing, telling, reliving, silent screaming. Nothing can change it, therefore, let it go. Free myself from this memory, from the negativity that seeps into my life when I feel sorry for myself.   Is this the secret?

I am beautiful, even though something ugly and vile happened to me. I am worthy of being treated like more than a body, even when it’s all I feel I am worth. I can make love, even though my first experience was not born from love, but hate.