Being drunk is not consent

It happened at a party, how cliche. I was even warned before I left the house that night. “Be careful I know you’re going through something and you might not be in the right state of mind” “just make good decisions”. Could my decision making skills have changed what happened to me? Or maybe my decision making skills are exactly why this happened to me?
Was it karma? Did I have this coming to me? Was this my fault? I tell myself not to think like this, and there’s no way it was my fault. How does one become “at fault” for their own rape/rapes? But I guess it could be argued both ways. I want to be able to write about what happened, but I’m not even sure of the proper order of events and exactly what had happened that night.

I’ll do my best though.. it was in September I believe of 2016, I had just had a rough break up with my boyfriend of 2 years. A guy that I worked with, who I knew had a thing for me, asked if I wanted to go to a party, I wouldn’t have called it much of a party though. I wanted to escape my thoughts and loneliness and get out, so I said I’d go and asked if he would pick me up. He showed up with a couple of his friends an hour or so later. Me being the only one that could drive after nine, he asked if I’d drive to go pick up these other two girls and then to where the party was. Once we got there, there was like two or three other guys there. I remember walking through the door of this trailer and instantly thinking about the filth everywhere. There were hella dishes piled up in the sink and just clutter everywhere. The owner of the single wide was some dude who was about 22-24 I believe, he lived there with his brother who wasn’t there at the time.

Once we walked in I remember this guy, Nathan, essentially running out into the kitchen, drunk af holding the last bit of Smirnoff vodka. He or one of the other guys asked if anyone wanted to finish it off, so I said I would and I just chugged the rest of it. They all stared at me like I had just preformed some sort of magic trick. I honestly don’t remember much after that. I don’t remember really drinking anything other than like a Smirnoff or two. I somewhat remember us getting on the subject of kissing the same sex, and one of the other girls there and I said something about how we’ve wanted to kiss another girl and we ended up making out. Of course there were videos of it. It’s blurry, but the next thing I remember is not feeling too good and I was now in someone’s room and they gave me a cup to throw up in. I honestly can’t remember my clothing situation. I also remember one of the guys coming in the door, while all the others stood in the doorway, and giving me a pill to take. I later found out it was a plan b because he had just fucked me, and he was more worried about me getting pregnant than my own consent.

The next memory I have is waking up the next morning naked next to one of the other guys, I was very confused and had to pee really bad. Not knowing where any of my clothes were I wrapped myself in the blanket and walked to the bathroom, not really even knowing where it was.

I was surprised at how close to home this guys house was to mine. I’m not exactly sure how I came to know this, but every single one of those guys had came into that room that night and had their way with me. I was made fun of and harassed afterwards. They all came into eat where I was working and laughed at me and followed me with their eyes. I wanted to crawl out of my own skin.

It took me two years to realize this was rape. Dakota, trying to cover his ass again, manipulated the story saying that I said I wanted to have sex with every guy there. There’s no way to know if I had actually said this or not, I was blacked out and again not in the right state of mind. But, I do remember thinking to myself while I was there that not a single one of them I found attractive, so I find it very hard to truly believe I would’ve said this.

Either way I was obviously too drunk to even give consent. I just wanted to sleep it off and especially not with anyone.
Thinking about it now, I remember sleeping and the owner of the house, an ex cop even, coming in there to “check on me”. I can remember getting an odd vibe. I remember him crawling over me. I remember his face and the look on it was as if he was about to eat a full course meal and he hadn’t eaten in months. I couldn’t tell you exactly what happened after that, but I can say that I was uncomfortable and I couldn’t get myself out of the situation. I was helpless. I was stuck.
I continue to blame myself. I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk. I shouldn’t have even gone in the first place.
But what is there to do about it now?