I was recently looking up some stories on the Internet regarding drink-spiking when I came across a site called 'Secret Society of Women'. This is a site in which women can write about things they perhaps feel uncomfortable about. I have read quite a few of these women's anonymous stories, but I then came across a date-rape story which has haunted me.
Here is an account of a woman who has experienced date-rape and all the alarming emotions that go with it including guilt, anger, regret, shame, hurt, nausea and worst of all, blame for yourself. Women need to realise the enormity of this problem and remember that it is something to never blame on yourself. Feel free to leave your opinions down below. This, like 'Secret Society of Women', can be posted anonymously.
littlefoot
01.05.11
5:44 AM
01.05.11
5:44 AM
I was going out one night with a guy friend of mine (Let’s call him Alex). We decided to pick up his buddy (Let’s call him Sam) so we could all go to a party together. Then we went to one of their friends' houses (who I've never met before) to pre-drink before the party. I remember drinking only about 2 mixed vodka drinks there, and half-way through my 2nd drink I left the room to use the bathroom. I came back and finished my drink, and then we got in a car to go to the party. I immediately felt way too drunk for how much I drank at the house. I was in the backseat by myself, and I remember feeling sick. My head was spinning so fast, and I felt like I needed to throw up.
When we finally got to the party I puked outside the front door...before even getting inside the house…and after only 2 drinks. I can remember feeling so drunk I couldn't even walk on my own. Sam took me upstairs to use the bathroom, where I spend the rest of the time puking in the toilet. My female friend was there, insisting that she take care of me, but Sam just kept telling her that he would take care of me. Sam held my hair while I puked in the toilet. I couldn't even stand up on my own. I didn't know what was going on. I remember feeling so confused.
The next thing I remember is Sam helping me down the stairs and arguing with my girlfriend about taking me home. I guess she gave in because I was back in the same car, this time with Sam in the back seat with me. Alex drove me to my house, and I remember the two of them arguing about taking me inside. Alex was telling Sam to let me go on my own, and Sam was arguing that he should go in with me to make sure I would be ok. Alex must have lost the argument.
I remember getting a pail for myself in case I needed to throw up again. Sam took me into my basement so I could lay down. But he stayed. The next thing I remember is flirting with him. Then my membory goes blank again. Then I remember laying on the bed with him on top of me, inside me, and I was telling him to stop, begging him to stop. He just kept whispering "It's ok, shhhh, shhh, it's ok, it's ok" over and over. I kept telling him to stop. I remember trying to push him off of me. My arms were bent up at my sides; my fists were clenched hard near my shoulders. But I couldn't move my arms to push him off. I still can't understand why my arms suddenly couldn't move. I tried so hard to use them to push him off of me, but it was like they were frozen. Then I started to cry. And he started to say “shhhhh” again, while he continued to rape me.
When I was a child I used to have this reoccurring dream where I was being attacked and would try to scream but nothing would come out but a whisper. This felt exactly like that dream. Like I was trying to push him off of me, but my arms wouldn't work. Like I was trying to yell at him to get him to stop, but I could only whisper.
Then it all went black again. The next thing I remember is that I was actually starting to enjoy it. It started to feel good, and I remember getting on top. Then it all went black again.
The next morning he was still there. I was so confused. I didn't remember much from the night before. I thought what happened was because I wanted it. We cuddled for part of the morning and he made me eggs for breakfast. We ate breakfast together, and then he left. He told me to call him, and I remember thinking at that moment that I hated him, that I was disgusted by him, and that I couldn't even believe that he would ask me to call him after what had happened the night before. But I wondered why I thought that. I had no idea why I found him so revolting. I just knew that he made me feel sick then.
For the next 4 days I was a complete mess. I ignored my boyfriend's calls, avoided my family, and called in sick to work. I didn't know what was going on. I don't remember anything from the next 4 days until I finally realised (on that 4th day) that I had been raped. That it wasn't my fault. My dad confronted me about it and I told him what happened. He immediately told me that I had been drugged, but I didn't believe that until I researched the effects of date-rape drugs about a year later.
Now I know it was date rape. Everything about it screams date rape to me. And I hate that it happened. But I'm so thankful that I had a boyfriend who was so supportive of what I was going through. He could have hated me for it (especially since I thought it was my fault). He could have left me to find someone with fewer issues to deal with. But he stood by me through the whole thing. And so did my family.
I went to the police in hopes of stopping him before he could get to more girls. But after the officer interviewed him, she told me that it would be in my best interest to back out of the charges, seeing as she could "understand if I was making up the story so it wouldn't seem like I cheated my on my boyfriend." I knew then that I couldn't go through with the charges if even those who you are supposed to be able to go to for help trust the criminal over you. I lost hope.
Four years later I still think about it all the time. It tears me up inside nearly every day. I've gotten better. But I'm still not the same. I feel like I'm putting on a fake smile all the time. I can't even go to bars because I punch every guy that touches me. I can't control it. I don't even think. If a guy grabs me my mind goes blank and I hit him. So now I don't go. And I can't go to parties anymore if I don't know everyone there. Even with my boyfriend. The thought terrifies me.
I am constantly irritable. I snap easily. I can't laugh at myself anymore. And I stress out about things before they even begin. I stress so much that I break down in tears. Often.
Even being around men that I don't know -- at work, at school, wherever, makes me so uneasy, like I feel scared and vulnerable. And I hate them. I hate men that I don't know. I hate my boyfriend for not being there to protect me. I hate myself for not stopping it. I hate myself for enjoying it. I hate myself for putting myself in that position. I hate myself for not following through with the charges. I hate myself for continually placing the blame on me, rather than him. I hate that I doubt myself sometimes. And I hate myself for not being strong enough to get over it. I feel so much anger, sadness, guilt, and hatred each day. I can't be intimate with my boyfriend anymore. It feels wrong, dirty, disgusting. Even kissing him feels dirty. I've been going to counselling since this happened. And it's gotten better, but I am still not ok.
But I've recently taken the steps to try another route to deal with this. It is called Emotional Freedom Techniques and Somatic Experiencing. It's very difficult for me to do, but I'm hoping it works. It has to. Has anyone tried it before? If you have, please comment and let me know how these therapies have worked for you, and if you have any advice. I need to take the steps to get better. "