Sometimes I wonder why I have an eating disorder or any mental health issues at all? Not in a self pitty, ‘woe is me’ sort of way. but, just out of curiosity. Why not Tom, Dick and Harry next door? What led me to this point?
It’s something i’ve talked a lot about in therapy and it all seems to stem from my childhood ultimately and not feeling good enough for anyone. But wanting to change didn’t creep in until my early twenties/late teens.
It took me years to admit to myself that i’d been raped when i was 18. I knew all along i didn’t want to do it but i didn’t want to say the word rape. It somehow made it all the more real. At the time i didn’t go to the police. I didn’t see the point and i thought it was my own fault.
I was 18, it was a good point in my life. I was very free spirited an didn’t care what anyone thought of me. I was in college, i had a Saturday job, went out every weekend with my girls and i was going to uni the following year. My biggest issue at that time, was loosing my virginity. I remember sex and boys being all us girls ever talked about. – i look back at that girl and often envy how happy and care free she is.
This particular night was about 4 months before my 19th birthday. I’d gone out with one of my closest friends from home, Emma. We were dancing the night away, drinking, kissing boys and telling each other how much we loved each other in the toilets.
Then all of a sudden the night club lights come on. It’s 3am and time to move on or go home. Before i know it, in the mad rush to the door i’ve lost Emma, trying to wave my hand to catch her but i loose sight. I feel a hand around my waist grab me and i see it’s a man who i’d been kissing earlier on in the night. He suggested just waiting for her outside with him- i agree.
I noticed he’s slowly become more and more touchy feely, saying inappropriate things and i just felt uncomfortable. I tried to move away but he grabbed my hand and said “just come and say goodbye to me down here” as we walk towards the back of the nightclub where no-one can see us.
Before i knew it, he had pushed my head down to his crotch, forcing me to give him oral. I looked up and he was taking pictures of me. I could hear my phone ringing off the hook in background. I kept asking “please can you let me get that? it’ll be my friend. she doesn’t know where i am” but he kicked my bag further away so i couldn’t get it.
He proceeded to pick me up and push me against the brick wall and penetrate my vagina and then bend me over to do the same but penetrated anally. i continued to ask him to stop, saying that’s enough now. In my head it all seems so blurry and so fast but i remember feeling like it was going on for days.
He ran off to jump into a taxi with his friends who were waiting for him at the end of the road. Leaving me sitting on the floor. My dress was pulled up around my waist, hair all over the place, blood everywhere and wounds on my back from the brick wall.
He just left me there bleeding
The next morning Emma and i were sat at my kitchen table eating a fry up that my mum had made us. i had told Emma what happened but i never thought i’d been raped, i just thought i’d lost my virginity in an unfortunate way so i played it down. Whilst we sat there he messaged me asking me to go on a date with him (i’d given him my number earlier on in the night). I never replied but it made me realise that he had no idea what he’d done.
Whenever i’d see a rape scene on a film, they’d always show the survivor ‘washing it off‘ the next day and vigorously scrubbing themselves in the shower. i had always thought ‘that’s so melodramatic‘ but that afternoon i have never scrubbed so hard. i couldn’t get rid of him no matter how hard i tried. The thing is, i knew he lived in the same village as my dad. Still to this day i’m very weary of seeing him if i ever go out in that village.
All i wanted to do was tell my parents and get a big hug from them but because i’d been kissing him earlier on in the night i felt that it was my fault, almost as if i’d lead him on. But a few months later i got up the courage to tell my sister when we were driving. I said “i’ve lost my virginity, but i didn’t want to” her reply was “oh right okay, cant believe you’ve lost it”. I felt shut down, so i kept it quiet and forgot about it for years and years until it was something that came up in therapy.
Just as I came to terms with it, i was raped again.
About 6 years had passed since, i was now 24, living away from home and happy. I had come to terms with it and my closest friends knew but not my family. Never ever did i think that it could happen to someone a second time around.
I’d started a new job in a new city and been invited on a work night out. As the night went on the more senior people went home and the rest of us moved onto the clubs and started to invite other friends out to join. Overall, it was quite a good night, good people, alcohol, drugs, music, just ruined by one thing….
Before i know it, it’s early in the morning and we’re back at one of my colleagues flats. One of my friends was with him in his bedroom and i’m left with his housemate in the living room. It gets slightly blurry. but i’m basically only waiting there to be a good friend. i didn’t want to be a cock block so i just let her get on with it.
It started off with flirting but then the housemate started getting more and more touchy feely. When i said no, i think he thought i was playing. He picked me up and carried me onto his bed even though i was kicking and screaming. There’s no polite or discrete was to say it but he literally took his boxers off and sat on my face and said “suck it“. I told him no, i don’t want that and kicked him back. he started to penetrate me vaginally and kept pushing me back with his hands every-time i got up.
i eventually managed to get up and out of his room. Grabbed my stuff, ran into my colleagues room and shouted to my friend “i’m leaving, you can stay here but i’m leaving right now, i cant stay” . All while he’s behind me telling me sorry, please stay.
I generally don’t talk about either of these situations much. I don’t even like to see anything about it on TV etc. i’ve managed to just push it so far down and out of my mind.
But i do question, is this why i am so insecure? Is this why i feel like i’m not worthy of love and feel like i have to change for men? Orrr is this why i think i’m such a failure and everyone is better than me?