College Time/Lost Time
I was no where NEAR ready for college. Not socially or emotionally. At the time, though, the most important thing for me was to get out of my mother's house. I felt free for the first time ever.
Things started out OK. I made it to classes, I was able to do the work, I got good grades to start. But that's where OK ended for me. I had trouble making friends. I didn't relate to the girls in my dorm, and made no connection at all with my roommate. I was still a loner. Then I found the closest liquor store.
I attended a couple of college mixers. There was always booze, and when I drank I could pretend I was having fun. I could pretend that I had friends. I could pretend a lot of things.
Then, one night I found myself in my dorm room with a guy.
My roomie was gone for the weekend, so we were alone. I think I invited the guy up to my room, but I'm not sure. Maybe I'd been drinking. I'm not sure.
I've struggled with this for a while because this is really hard for me to understand.
What I remember is being on my bed with him. We kissed. He had his hand in my top. He pushed me down on the bed. He was on top of me. His hand moved down. I remember feeling something was wrong. I remember trying to push him off me. Then I remember nothing, until the next day or maybe the one after that.
I've wracked my brain trying to figure out what happened next, because everything with him up to that point is crystal clear in my memory. But the next memory I have, whatever day it was, is kind of fuzzy. There's nothing really clear in my mind until what I think are days later.
Every time I have this memory, it sets something off inside of me. It's close to that feeling I had that day with my uncle. I end up feeling ill. I know something was wrong. It feels like something happened, but I just don't know. It's so frustrating. When I think about it, I feel desperate to know.
Maybe it's better that I don't. There are some memories I have that I wish I could forget forever. But I don't know. What I have the most trouble with is that I remember those other times. Those of my uncle and my mother, and those of what happened to me in the Navy.
Why would I remember some things, and not all? It makes me feel crazy, and I don't understand any of it.
Anyway, after that night I changed. I became more withdrawn. My trouble with depression got worse. I still had the urges to SI, and I still gave in to them. I had trouble leaving my room, even to go eat or go to the liquor store. I didn't feel safe, not even in my room.
I stopped going to classes, and when the semester ended I had one C. The rest were all F's. My father pulled me out of school, because he said he wasn't paying for me if I wasn't going to take college seriously. He said he just didn't understand me.
I wasn't about to try and explain.
He did let enroll in a local community college for the spring semester. But I rarely went to those classes either.
So much for college.