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Picture This

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Picture this if you will. Picture a seventeen-year-old girl curled up in her bed sobbing those gut wrenching sobs, the kind that rub your throat raw. Picture her trying to calm herself down, telling herself everything is going to be okay. Picture her telling those voices in her head that they were wrong. The depression didn’t scare him away. Picture her convincing herself that the boy she’d been dating for the past two and a half months, the one who just broke her heart, hadn’t raped her. That he wasn’t using her just for sex. That he really loved her and that he would come to his senses and they’d be together again. Do you see it?
Picture that same girl three years later. She’s tried to pick up the pieces of what that boy did. She’s tried living a normal life, and failed. She’s seen countless guys up and leave once they find out she’s a rape victim. Picture that girl trying to keep the tears from falling every night, because not only does she have depression but now she has the title of Rape Victim to add to her various bags of emotional baggage she carries around.
Picture this girl trying to open up and trust again. Trying to trust that the boy she's dating won’t leave her broken and even more destroyed. Trying to trust that they aren’t just using her for sex.  She eventually gives up and moves on. She eventually realizes that sex is the only thing that makes them want to stay, and that that is not the kind of girl she is.
Picture this girl giving up. She is giving up on finding someone who cares. Someone who is patient enough to wait. Picture her giving up on being happy.
That girl is me. At times I feel I am broken beyond all repair. It feels like a normal life is too far away and that kills me inside. I want nothing more than to be normal. However, thanks to the selfish decision that was made by an ex-boyfriend on that day in May three years ago, a life that’s normal is not an option. I can’t help but to be angry at him for that. He broke my trust and ruined any chance I’d ever have at a normal relationship.
I know they say all things happen for a reason, but it’s not fair. If the reason for this happening was to make me stronger, it didn’t work. I am weak. I want to be strong. I want to say that I’ve gotten over what he did. That is not the case. I know they all say it takes time. I don’t want to spend any more time thinking about what he did. Do you know how hard that is when I meet a great guy and things are moving along, but I have to stop what we’re doing because it triggers a flashback to that horrible night? I know it’s not my fault and to be honest, I know that if he really cares about me it won’t annoy him. But still, I feel bad. I feel bad, because three years ago an asshole conditioned me to believe that guys hate it when you say no. He conditioned me to believe that saying no doesn’t work, so why should I waste the breath?

Three years ago I became permanently damaged. A normal dating life vanished before my eyes. I know one day I’ll meet someone who can mend the pieces, but I’ll always be scarred. Three years ago my life was changed in the worst possible way. I can't change the past, no matter how badly I want to. I can't go back to that night and run away from him. I can't tell him I didn't want to go on our date. I am a victim of sexual assault. That is now a badge that I have to wear. Whether I decide to wear it with honor or with shame depends on the day. I know I say I'm a survivor, but how can you be a survivor when you feel so weak? I thought I'd be over this by now but I'm not. All I can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other and hope that over time this all gets easier.

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