VIVID MEMORIES: ANOTHER TRAUMA Originally published on 6/22/2017

“If you can name it, you can tame it.” ~Unknown

Before I begin I want to give a trigger warning. It can assumed what this post is roughly about from the title, and yes I will be discussing some of the details and moments from a rape that stand out from my experience. I will also discuss briefly how my mental health has been affected by the sexual trauma and my trust issues as well.

Sometimes the memories are so vivid.

About a year ago I wrote a blog on my first experience of respect. I remember feeling validated and appreciated for the person I am and for what I’d been through. He made me feel like I could trust, and be myself again. He didn’t think of me differently for what I’d been through, and he simply cared about me…for me. Of course it was not that simple. And as the pattern goes in my life the trust I had gained and the respect I felt was soon thrown out the window, and so this guy became the third person to rape me.

It was July 3, we had an Independence Day and birthday celebration, and there was drinking involved. Never did I feel out of control; I knew exactly what was happening the whole night. It started off wonderful! Delicious food, met my new boyfriend’s friends, got to talk about my research, danced, played games, etc. At the end of the night we all went our separate ways, and since it was late, and I didn’t want to travel back to my place alone that late and nor did my boyfriend want me to; I decided to spend the night at his place. We exited the elevator with two of his friends (I think they were dating) that were also spending the night, and continued to the apartment. My boyfriend had decided to give them space, so we went and sat on the stairs.

He kissed me gently, and then it grew more intense. He began to unzip his pants, and adjust my skirt. I resisted, and said no multiple times. He stopped after I didn’t give up, and after a few seconds we went to his apartment, and he took me into the bathroom, and began the process again. I still resisted, and still said no. He insisted and used his birthday and the holiday as an excuse.

The alcohol had started to weaken me now. I was still coherent and assertive with my voice, but I was now feeble and passive with my physical strength. He pushed me over the small sink in the cramped studio apartment bathroom, and it happened.

I told him to stop, and that he was hurting me. He continued…without protection. I was then forced on the floor with my head pushed against the door so it was no longer in line with my spine. I was frozen, nothing was coming from my mouth, my muscles were paralyzed, and I was trying to speak, trying to resist. I decided to focus on the pain of my wrenched neck, so the rape wasn’t as horrifying. I was thrown like a puppet back to the sink, and tears began to stream down my face. Finally, after several minutes he stopped as I sniffled and cried.

I apologized for crying, and told him I never trusted anyone or was respected… He quickly chimed in and said it was fine and that I could always trust him, and of course I believed him. As I had for my assaults just a few weeks earlier, I was already repressing what had just happened, as well as repressing the previous conversation I had with him when I told him I felt manipulated. To which he had responded that I was being mean and hurtful and he cried.

We made ourselves decent, and went to bed. I broke up with him about a week later.

My trust is almost always betrayed, and I find myself not sharing with the people close to me afraid that this trust will be betrayed, so instead I am open with strangers, and the internet. I subconsciously test my peers and friends.

This past school year everything finally got to me, and to therapy I went. It has been helpful, and I am not close to being done. I haven’t even started with the trauma stuff. I know the cognitive distortions I tend to, and I know better ways to cope now. My panic attacks and anxiety are better overall. However, when they present themselves, they are worse. I attribute this to the fact that I am no longer ignoring the hurt, and am letting myself have feelings.

July 3 is the only sexual trauma date I know, so when it comes for its first anniversary I am afraid all of my traumas will be summoned. Prayers please.

For now I will not fortune-tell or ruminate on this date. I am hopeful and I see a bright future for myself. And just the other day I actually desired to read my Bible, and my prayers to God have not been forced lately. I have motivation, and I can smile naturally again. And I know that just because my path is different does not mean I am lost, does not mean I won’t make it. It may simply take longer, and for the first time in years I am not faking my optimism.

Love and Faith,
Melanie J. Lofgren