Tag Archives: rape

[This is a guest post by @Thundarkitteh. I thank her for sharing her story.  -ABLxx]

When I was 19, I was engaged to a monster who drugged and raped me on multiple occasions. Since I had blocked out whatever I remembered from it, the relationship continued and got worse, to where physical abuse started. I also miscarried twins. By the time I left, I was 20, scared shitless, depressed, and still trying to process what the fuck had happened to me. Since I couldn’t process it all, I decided to marry my schoolwork instead. I graduated with a 3.6 GPA (3.8 in my field (Ancient Greek), it would have been a 4.0 were it not for that bastard Plato), got accepted to Tulane University, packed, moved, and tried to carry on from there. I swore I was fine.

Then it happened. I remembered.

It was as if a trapdoor had opened and I fell to rock bottom. Then another trapdoor opened, to a place I didn’t know existed. I now call it Rock Bottom’s Basement. It is the scariest place in this world to find yourself. It is so dark, so bleak, so utterly hopeless. I had to get out of there as quickly as possible. I had no idea how to do this. But I knew that if I didn’t, I would die.

The next day, after getting no sleep because I was too scared of what my brain would produce, I went to a professor of mine, briefly told him what happened, and told him I needed time off. He told me to go home and he would cover for me. I doubt he’d be reading this, but if he is: Thank you, Dr. N.

I do not remember much of the next week, other than I didn’t leave my apartment. I couldn’t eat, I would pass out from exhaustion due to constantly bawling, wake up in full fight-or-flight mode. The skin under my eyes turned raw and red. All I did was drink coffee and smoke. If I tried to walk across a room, I’d literally collapse on the ground and cry. I didn’t want to exist. But I didn’t want to die. I had no clue what I wanted. I call this the “un-being” phase.

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