I was raped.
There, I said it. Or rather wrote it.
It didn’t happen to Awen or Rainn or anyone else in my mind who took part of it. It happened to me. *I* was raped. Me. Not an alter or any other fragment of my mind. It happened to me. And I am furious.
What right did these ‘men’ have to treat me like that? What right did they have to enter *my* body and use it for their twisted purposes? I want to find them and demand these answers. I want to tie them down and let them feel how helpless I was, even though I know they wouldn’t feel helpless at all. I want to know that they will answer to some higher power, even though I know that might not happen. Most of all, I want to know that this will never happen to me again, even though I know no one can promise that.
These excuses for people tied me down on a stone table and raped me. *Me.* At the time, I felt fear. I wasn’t sure if they would kill me afterward, and I wasn’t sure whether that would be best for me. They took something from me that day that I won’t get back. Now, though, the fear is gone and I am *angry.* I’m so angry I could scream. Sometimes I think that would actually make me feel better. I want to lash out at the people who hurt me. I want to make them feel as bad as I did. I want them to carry around the shame I still feel. I want them to feel the nausea I’m feeling simply from writing this post. I threw up for days after that and took showers so hot my skin blistered. It didn’t go away.
Now I feel dirty, inside and out. It’s like a stigma I carry that only a few people know about, but that I feel people can tell simply by meeting me. I feel like they took my body as their own, and it’s a fight to reclaim that. I’m not even close to there yet. But I’ve said it. I was raped. It happened to me. Dissociation doesn’t change that.