Me + Sex = Bad consequencesMe + Celibacy = SafetyJust thinking about sex sometimes triggers uncomfortable thoughts, like punishment for having desires. I tell myself I did nothing wrong. I've been in situations where less harmful things have happened and automatically people were concerned for my safety and well-being. I compare most horrible things to the violation and think, "They think this is bad?" It even annoys me that if I cut my finger or get called a horrible name, that people are attentative and concerned. I get violated and I'm suspected of wrong-doing, like this were a tool to get something out of the accused. Nevermind that this person raped me, but they think that the rape wasn't so bad, that because he said I liked it, that he was right and I was wrong. The same thoughts turn over in my brain daily. I wake up to it and fall asleep to it. I think it's obsessive-compulsive thinking. The stupid incident happened on 1997; it's 8 years later and it still won't go away. The incident was bad enough, but the secondary wounding was even more injurious to me. I just remember the shock of how I was regarded, even belittled. I was made to feel like I was crazy, that I was a trouble-maker. I look back on it and get paranoid thoughts, wondering if it was a conspiracy to hide the truth? I sometimes wonder about this mass denial whenever somebody is violated. Some people would rather befriend a former child molester that associate with someone who's gay. I go to work and I have this smiley face I wear throughout my shift, then I go and have a drink next door. If I made more money, I'd be an alcoholic by now. I use to smoke a lot of weed, but I have no access to it. I'd spend most of my money on it too: I needed to numb myself. I'm also a performer, so I can spend my energies on that. Charlize Theron had some trauma in her childhood, and she said that acting was a way to deal and cope with it. I find putting my energies into my acting helps me skim over what's going on with my life. What people see in me isn't what I'm expressing. I think that if someone read this then met me offline, they'd think I was lying, that I was trying to be entertaining or that I was grappling for sympathy. When you have a pain deep inside of you, you look for an avenue to spew it out. It's a natural human tendency to let your feelings out, and I bottle them so often. It's very rare I explode, but on those rare occasions I have, then afterwards I'm mixed with shame and relief. It's not even a religious thing either, for I'm an atheist. My thoughts seem all over the place, but they're coming out of my fingertips. I remember having a chat with some friends who were gossiping about an associate that was accused of sexual harrassment. It seemed disturbing because I felt like I was on the other end of it and spying on them. They didn't say much about the accuser, but never acknowledged that he did anything wrong, that because he was a guy, he did what was natural. My 2 cents was that, if someone I trusted, someone I relied on to instruct me, suddenly comes onto me, he's crossed a line and betrayed me. He has a name in the community, so to jeaprodize that for his "natural instincts" was a stupid call. He'd lie to protect his reputation and have others condemn the victim. I haven't heard all the details, but anytime I hear someone accuse someone else of a non-consentual act, I automatically side with the victim. People sit around saying, "Well, I don't want to pick sides, and he's a good friend of mine..." and then justify his actions. It doesn't matter what literature is out there to educate the massed about the reality of sexual assault, people will condemn the victim and put them through more hell than they've been through already based on their mythological thinking about it. I don't know what to do with my feelings, other than write in this diary. I want this feeling taken out of me! I want it removed! I can't get it out of me! One of the stupidest things someone ever said to me was "Pretend it never happened!" As if I chose to think about it 24/7! You can't go a day without someone joking about it in passing, or seeing a reminder of it like the perpetrator's name, mentioning of the location, people bringing it up like it were no big deal, all sorts of reminders that set you off. I wish I were in that movie, "Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind" and have that ugly memory removed from my mind and body. I don't know how long I can put up this facade anymore.When I think of the accusation that I became a lesbian because of this, I have to say: do you not know the difference between consentual and non-consentual? If I choose to be with a woman versus being forced by a man, should I think they're the same thing? My dad went off on his tangents one time, how a politician was campaigning, but my dad didn't like him because he supported gay marriages. I hate the F-word in regards to gay men, so I won't use it here. Anyway, I tried to argue with him that if two people love each other and want to get married, is it better to have a woman raped just because it was with a man? He said yes! Sometimes I'm so disgusted with my dad's philosophies. I'd like to think it's his age but I know most people his age know better. I use to think I liked white men because it was black men who molested me as a youngster, but when my lesbian activities were revealled, that was used against me. All these feelings and thoughts swirling around me with no rest, no peace. They say, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent", but I didn't consent and feel inferior anyway. To write anymore would only repeat myself.