Two years ago I aborted the child of my rapist. To this day I still feel sick to my stomach at the thought of this. This man had the ability to remove all sense of control from me and break me completely in a matter of hours. He also forced me to make a decision that would affect me for the rest of my life. Some days it’s difficult to even look at me. Somehow I’ve managed to convince myself that it’s all my fault, and have a large sense of guilt that I don’t think will ever go away. Most of the time I’m okay, but on days like this- there are moments I feel like I’m unable to breathe. I’m overcome with fear, sadness, anger, and guilt. I just want these feelings gone and all those moments erased. I wish somehow that was possible. But it isn’t, not even millions of therapy sessions later. I no longer want to be a victim, I no longer want to feel like a victim.
The rape was extreme, painful, and followed by a lot of internalization. For months after the rape I was able to convince myself it hadn’t happened. For months after the abortion I was able to convince myself it hadn’t happened. But in moments of loneliness and weakness the memories and thoughts would seep in slowly. It all did happen, in a very real and graphic way . It all could’ve been avoided.
I was throwing up and way too drunk. I was protesting the entire time. I didn’t ask him to get into the taxi with me. I didn’t ask the driver to take me to HIS apartment. I just wanted to go to my temporary home. The most I wanted to feel from that night was a hangover.
Instead I felt a lifelong trauma. The first time was drugged dazed and confused. It was not as bad as the second and third times. I thought I was smart and more careful, my rapist was just smarter and sneakier. The second time was felt completely, I was almost suffocated by his pillow while his hand pushed my face down and he intruded my body repeatedly. I felt my vagina swelling and my thighs getting bruised. I felt my breath struggle to leave my body, at that moment I truly wished I was dead. If you’ve never been raped these aren’t feelings you can truly relate to. I didn’t want to be dead because I was suicidal I wanted to be dead because at least then it would stop it would be over and he would definitely have to pay for it.
The third time was the most terrifying. I tried to fight him and that’s when it got painful. Punch after punch was followed by penetration.
I tried screaming but it’s not like anyone could hear me, and it’s not like anyone would care.
He called me a cab, bought me a bag of chips, smiled, and told me to get plan B.
And in tears as I tried to pull myself together I got in the taxi was taken home and went on a trip the next day.
Pretended like nothing ever happened and continue to do so.
I tell myself
My nightmares have nothing to do with what this person did to me.
My anxiety has nothing to do with this.
My feelings of panic during sex have nothing to do with this.
I am fine I tell myself
The truth is I am broken in ways that I don’t believe can be fixed.
I think one day I might be alright but never whole again, and that’s just something I have to live with.
— Survivor, age 20