While I was cleaning, I kept thinking about yesterday. In some ways yesterday feels like a dream. I am still getting used to this new feeling. I donít know if itís an inner strength, or what. I kind of feel free, in a way. I did some thinking about that night behind the gym. But today, thinking about it feels different.
I donít feel nearly as anxious about it, or like it has as much impact on me as it did before yesterday. Before yesterday, I never would have thought I could feel this way.
Itís funny. I spent a lot of time thinking about telling someone. Thinking about how I would feel while I was telling someone, and how Iíd feel afterward.
I used to imagine finding someone I could trust, and being able to tell that person what he had done to me. I longed to have someone that I could trust that much. But at the same time, I was so ashamed that I couldnít imagine telling anyone any of it.
But as I pictured someone I trusted, I was conflicted about whether I would want that person to be a man, or a woman. On the one hand, I didnít trust any men. I still donít. On the other hand, I couldnít imagine telling such things to another woman.
Iíve never really had many female friends. I do have a sponsor in AA, but our relationship is a different kind of friendship. I talk to her, but mostly about my addiction, and everything around that. I know her, but not well enough to talk about something so personal as rape.
Besides, lots of people donít want to talk about rape. And I have no idea how she feels about the subject.
Itís just always made me very uncomfortable when I think about telling my story to another woman. That may sound a little weird. But because Iíve never had a close friendship with another woman, I donít think I would feel comfortable talking about such personal things.
What do female friends talk about? I can imagine that some of them talk to each about things like sex. But I donít know if I ever could do that.
I also used to imagine how I would feel after I told someone my story. I always felt like I would be ashamed. Like I would want to hide from the world after telling my secrets, knowing that another person has that image of what he did to me. I think thatís because I felt so dirty, so ashamed.
I felt like I was disgusting for what he did to me. I blamed myself, because he made me feel like I was a willing part of what he did. Kind of like I wanted it. Just trying to imagine saying those words to tell what he did to me kept me silent. To me, the things he did made me filthy and disgusting.
Thatís how I see what he did to me. As filthy and disgusting, and sick. But today I see him as filthy, disgusting, and sick. Not me.
Today, Iím not ashamed at all by anything I said yesterday. Which amazes me. Iíve gone over and over what I said yesterday. Iíve thought about the things Dr H said to me. I canít find a single thing I said that leaves me feeling ashamed, or embarrassed at all.
That amazes me.
But I did think about one thing in particular. When Dr H and I were talking about what I would do if he did that to me today. About what I would do differently. Like screaming, running from him before he grabbed my hair. We also talked about me telling someone what happened, like turning him into the cops.
It was hard for me to get past the fear of telling Dr H what he did to me. A huge reason for why I told her is because I trust her so much. And it didnít matter that she was a woman. That didnít bother me like I thought it would. But the thought of telling the cops?
First of all, I donít trust cops. Theyíre still such a trigger for me, but Iím working on that. Now I know that what he did to me wasnít about sex, but it was still that I was in that position. The position that people make jokes about when they joke about oral sex.
So, to turn him in for raping me like that would be hard for me to do. Because, even though I know itís not my fault, and that I didnít want it, itís still that people would know what happened. I know people talk, and I donĎt ever want people to see me that way. To have some kind of mental picture of me in that position.
Iíd like to think I was strong enough to turn him in, to be able to look past what people would think, what they might say. I think that I would try to get beyond that. Because I would love to see him behind bars.
Then everyone would be able to know what he did, and have that mental picture of him being the evil monster that he is.