This Is Not The End...

Confusion, hurt...

At about the third year, this is when it hit me.
When the act of my assault started to take hold.

I had a dream, I was raped. At school by a classmate. During break. And still was happening when the bell went. People walked past but didn't notice nor do anything.

I placed that at the back of my head. Telling myself for three years that it was just a dream. After I had that dream I woke up, I was hysterical. Crying. Till I fell back asleep.

The first day it started to affect me. It was year 12, final year. Senior year. My boyfriend would hold my wrists or something like that. I just started to feel anxious. I was confused. Like my wrists were getting held down with a lot of force.

I started to dream of this. Again and again. Different people. Different places. Same area.

One entailed two men. One holding me down whilst the other one raped me. Holding a gun towards my head. Screaming at me.

The other one, just one man. This one became more frequent. Grabbed me from behind. Threw me to the ground. He had a knife, which was held against my throat.

In each one but the first there was a weapon. Containing violence. They were all in one area which I cannot stand. All in a year which I barely remember.

I had no control. They had power over me. All holding me down. Screaming at me, shouting, with hatred and anger. Disappointment and disgust.

The thing is, i really cannot stand hearing people yell. As for one reason. My father, throughout my childhood. Anger scares the crap out of me.
I also didn't care about my life during these times. Yet, when threatened to die I was scared.

I would try to fight. Then I would freeze. Cry. Go numb. Want to die. As it felt forever.

This confuses me. Same event, reoccurring. Sometimes all at once. The faces be different according to which in my mind.

I panic. I shake. I hyperventilate. I cry. I feel and see flashbacks. I get stuck in this reality. This is very real. I feel sick with the thoughts. Empty, disgusting. Worthless.

I am aware of my mum. Going through a assault during this time. I never dwelled on it. It was more anger towards these men. Plus, my dreams were occurring before it happened.

I led on the thought of false memories. Although, they have to be created by words. Or knowing of events.

I do remember weird aspects. Like dirt and leaves being in my hair. Bruises. Scratches. Nail marks. As my sister would point them out.

I just don't remember the year all that so well. It was during dark times already. And i know my body shuts things off so i don't remember.

I know certain triggers make memories come back. Its in the back of my mind, out of reach. Then i will see or hear something that reminds me of something and I will see the memory.

That's how my brain has always worked. I was never really influenced by anything during these times. Other then trying to find ways out of my home. But never articles, movies that showed such events.

There was times I could handle this shit and it was way before I was fourteen. I could handle hearing of situations which happened once. Being just the word "rape."

Years have gone past. I struggle even more now. It seems to be getting harder. As years go by.

It is four years now. I just started to accept it. Although I do not see myself as a victim as my situation was very very minor. And never left me with serious injuries.