After my freshman year at St Mike’s I was home and working a summer job. On a Saturday night in July I went to a party with a group of my coworkers, none of which I knew too well. I was talking to this guy and as I was finishing my drink he offered to get me another one from inside. When we got down to the basement he leaned in and started to try making out with me. I barely knew the kid and wasn’t interested, so tried to push him away but he was strong and threw me down to the bed. Before I knew it, he was on top of me, ripping my clothes off and trying to get inside me. Then he did. I remember feeling completely powerless and helpless. My words meant nothing to him. My crying and screaming meant nothing to him. It was as if he didn’t hear any of it, he just kept going. I felt suffocated and trapped. I felt defeated. I have never been more terrified for my life. When he finally gave in and got off of me I ran to the bathroom, cried a lot, then pulled myself together. I found my friends and said I wanted to go home. I didn’t tell them anything. I was so scared.
I was so scared that I kept this night to myself for nine months. Didn’t tell a single person.
I have since learned that when you experience a traumatic event, your brain literally doesn’t process it. Normal every day events are processed by your brain by it sending messages back and forth from one side to the other, but with traumas, the memories are trapped in a corner deep in your brain. For the first couple months after it happened I thought I could keep that night tucked away forever. But in ways I didn’t realize until after the fact, that night was haunting me. It was haunting me in the classroom, I had a hard time focusing for long periods of time and my grades slipped. It haunted me when I went out and when I would hookup with other guys. I had no respect for myself or my body and didn’t care what I was doing to it or who I was getting with. I was so emotionally numb that I was just trying to feel anything. The things I used to love, like field hockey, weren’t as enjoyable because I just wasn’t myself. I was just going through the motions. It felt like nothing made me happy, but I couldn’t talk to anyone about it because I was embarrassed that I got myself into that situation in the first place.
Over the winter of my sophomore year I think my brain started to try processing what had happened to me or something because I started to get flashbacks. It would happen when I was out and in a crowded party, I would get super anxious and feel like it was that night in July again. I had multiple panic attacks as a result of these flashbacks and as they continued and became more frequent, I realized it was time to tell someone.
One night I was watching a movie with a friend where rape was a central theme. When scenes came on involving the rape, I got super anxious and started hyperventilating. My friend could clearly tell something was up and I knew there was no way I couldn’t tell him about what had happened to me. I told him all the gory details of the night. I told him how I had been suffering with anxiety since then and that I was too scared to talk about it. It was so incredibly hard to open up about it and actually say the words out loud. I was raped. He listened and comforted me and encouraged me to talk to someone who could give me professional advice on how to overcome this trauma. I ended up talking to a few of my friends about it, and that definitely helped. Hearing their supportive words kept me going. I eventually went to Bergeron and talked to Kathy Butts and she was incredible. She helped me process what happened to me and helped me to realize everything I was feeling was normal. Although I still get the occasional flashback, that more often than not leads to a panic attack, I’ve learned coping mechanisms and can usually calm myself down.
If it weren’t for that friend of mine, I would never have had the courage to tell more people or go to a therapist or to share this story with all of you. Honestly, it scares me to think about where I would be now had I never said anything to him. If anyone has experienced something similar to this, my biggest piece of advice is to tell someone. Tell anyone. Telling that first person is a huge hurdle, probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but it’s so important. It’s what got me here.
I’m not saying talking about it with friends or going to therapy will solve all problems. It won’t. That night will always be with me and I still suffer with post-traumatic stress from it. Panic attacks, claustrophobia, and anxiety are all things I didn’t have before I was raped but have to deal with now. But talking to people about it helps you realize you really aren’t alone in those battles. I know I have a support system that, when I start to feel that way, I can turn to. For nine months I tried handling it on my own, and it nearly destroyed me. Speak up. Although in dark times it definitely feels like it, you are NEVER alone.
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