TW// SA (not a story of the details of the violence)
I was lying on the hospital bed with a stranger taking pictures of the abrasions caused by a man forcing himself inside my unconscious body. On the ceiling there was a fucking cat poster, telling me to hang in there. It was the only thing to look at it in the sterile room. I remember everything about that stupid cat. It was a fluffy kitten with orange fur with blue sky background and 3 white fluffy clouds. I was just laying there looking at his dumb smile on one of the worst days of my life.
I was scared, hurt and in shock.
A week after the rape kit, interviews with police and turning over my clothes from that night, I received a call from a police woman. I remember thinking why does she have such a nasty tone of voice with me. She informed me that it was my word against his. He said he didn’t do it. They wouldn’t run the rape kit because it costs too much and they closed the case.
I waned to die and in fact I tried to. Luckily, I’m still here.
It’s been 11 years since that happened. I can talk about it now because I have done years of therapy and spiritual healing. I still get triggered around the subject sometimes but now I have the tools to handle it.
But before I had all these tools, I was a 20 year old filled with shame for “letting it happen to me”. I was too afraid to talk to people around me. It felt like a stain on my body that I couldn’t clean. I turned to social media for help.
I searched Instagram for support pages, for survivor stories, for anything on how to feel better.
At the time, Instagram was mostly quotes on top of pretty background or a picture of someone’s food.
There was a quote that was being shared a lot by women. And I still see it pop up sometimes 10 years later.
It always says something along the lines of “ every 7 years your cells in your body have replaced every part of your body into a new collection of cells”. The caption would say so in 7 years he would have never touched a single part of you.
While that is not exactly the science of how the body works, I clanged on to that idea for dear life.
I wanted a body that had never been violated, never lost autonomy, never got hurt like that.
The mental pain of an assault was almost unbearable. I didn’t feel safe in my own body anymore. My mind swirled with thoughts about how it could happen again. How I could I feel safe sleeping, when something terrible happened to me while unconscious? How could I feel safe when I couldn’t protect myself during or after it happened? How could I feel safe when my rapist knew the police didn’t care it happened? I felt powerless.
So I kept telling myself in a few years my body will be completely new. I get a chance to start over. I get a chance to feel safe again.
I’m now 11 years out. I feel safe in my body, my home, and I love my life. I know it’s cliche but it can get better. The deep pits of dispair it throws you into, doesn’t have to be permanent. Don’t give up.
Here’s what helped me the most. First off professional therapy, went through 5+ therapists before I found one that helped me. I really liked her but it still took me a full year of going before I trusted her enough to tell this trauma. Therapy works when a lot of different factors line up. You got to keep trying until it works. Because when it works, it’s so worth every penny.
Second, I told people that I had a healthy relationship with about it. I point out ~healthy relationship~ because one of my parents that I had unhealthy relationship with blamed me because I was drinking. Don’t worry, after years of that behavior, we are no contact now. The healthy relationships surrounded me with love and support even if they didn’t know the right words to say. Love helps a lot.
Third, reiki and massage therapy. A good massage therapist or reiki practitioner will always respect your boundaries when touching your body.
It’s good practice for setting boundaries as a survivor. Plus it’s spiritually healing and gentle.
If you have been to one of my reiki groups, you’ll notice the emphasis I put on autonomy. Now you know why that’s so important to me.
Lastly cling on to any glimmer of hope you can find. It doesn’t matter it makes sense to anyone but you. Hope creates room for change. Hope keeps people like you and me alive. If you’ve been through this I’m sending you so much love.
Please comment or share your glimmer of hope 💌
Leave a comment