Just dealing "Can't Believe that this happened...."

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To be honest I am not sure how I am going to start this off, for me it is not a topic that I like having to remember but I don't want it to be something that keeps me from who I am. But to be truthful it will always be apart of me, so to get down to what this event is. I was raped by my husbands Step Dad. So before this happened I was already trying to meet with him to get the gift that he wanted to give my husband, but kept finding some way to blow off the meet. Drove me up a wall cause I had given him more than enough chances to give it too me. Anyway, we agreed that he would pick me up to go get the gift, me being a trusting person was stupid enough to go with him. The only thing is that makes this worse was that my husband trusted him and after I told him what happened he was beyond livid. So let me say this, I am someone who plays a game and I will get engrossed in the game and stop paying attention to my surroundings, yes I know bad habit to have. So I was to into a game that I just wanted to get back at a person for just killing me over and over, but I was still having fun playing. I understood why I was getting killed (Because I sucked at Call of Duty). Any how while I was enjoy the game I was not aware of what he was doing and the thing that got me out of the game was pain. For a moment or two I was not sure what was going on until it fully sunk in, I winced in pain and cried for him to stop but It was like shooting words into an empty room. I tried to crawl away more than once but to no avail. he held his hand on my mouth and told me to shut up, and made it hard for me to breathe, then he placed his arm around my neck. I had done nothing to cause this, I was dressed like a normal person pants and even had a jacket on but it still happened. 

I had never once in my life thought that this could or ever happen to me. When I got home I cried more and tried as hard as I might to get the smell off me. I scrubbed myself raw but still the smell lingered, I felt like everything that I was called in should and worse of all I had to tell my husband that this happened. I had to admit that to the one person who I never wanted to hurt ever. My mom even asked what happened, she meant nothing by it she was just being a mom wondering what her baby was doing. I snapped at her, I yelled at someone who didn't even hurt me, and I was terrified to hug my parents, my friends. Whether they be male or female, and I had to pretend that nothing was wrong with me, every interaction was like being thrown in water on a cold winter morning. My husband wanted nothing to do with my friends, he wanted a female to be around me if I was to be with a male, which sucked since I had few female friends and only one was still around at the time. But I still had enough faith and trust in my male friends for them to not do anything, but he didn't care. My friend Liz told me that I should go to the hospital and call the cops, but I didn't want to do that since I was leaving in a few days to start my new life. I didn't want cops at my parents house asking for me and then having to tell my parents, that was not something I wanted to put anyone through. 

Yet everyday I would claw at my skin and try and hope that maybe I could just get the nightmare off but stopped after a while (Didn't want to explain to people what was going on with the scratches). I became an empty shell, I lacked more emotion than I did before, stopped smiling unless I put one on, stayed to myself more often and kinda stopped talking to people unless they started to conversation first. More negative and I felt utterly alone. My depression got worse, I didn't want to get out of bed anymore, and I kept forgetting that I needed to eat so there would be days that I would be lucky to eat one meal or a small snack. The one person who I needed the most wasn't there, he was away on deployment and wouldn't be back until after I moved to our new home. 

To this day my depression still gets the better of me, I have my better days and my worse day. I always lacking emotion or showing way to much emotion. I don't have motivation  to do much these days, I'm lucky to clean the house or make dinner for myself, I'm even lucky if I sleep. I share this now only because I am tired of letting myself get beaten by the fact that I was raped and I am tired of feeling sorry for what happened to me, and this is a good place to start. Right?