*Trigger warning*
(Full disclosure, I’m not revealing everything yet and I am bisexual, I also use sexual abuse and rape interchangeably.)
Truthfully I don’t feel comfortable talking about a lot of my childhood abuse. I will say I grew up in a home with domestic violence, and that my sexual abuse began at the hands of my biological father. Even when he was kicked out the access allowed him to continue abusing me. At 12 I was able to stop seeing him. Around this time I got sexually abused by a girl my own age. I became sexually active, quite early, had a habit of falling into bad crowds and by 16 I’d done my damn best to make sure I was permanently high or stoned. Being sober was painful. I know for me depression began to onset when I was 14, and at 16 I was self harming and had a suicide attempt (OD) under my belt. I’d also managed to have a lot of dysfunctional (even for a teen) relationships. Even when I tried reporting it my mother didn’t believe me. She does now. I managed to get into university/college and I’m studying science. Strangely my childhood sexual abuse doesn’t hurt as much as this. I think it’s because as an adult I’m more aware of my emotions and can better grasp situations than a child can. I also just don’t feel comfortable disclosing more than I have about that yet and the recent one is what affects me most these days.
At college (18) I’d managed to make good (or so I thought) friends, and was doing okay despite having an addict for a boyfriend (also a rape victim) at the time. He broke up with me around xmas, and for a month I was heartbroken in addition to depression, ptsd (yes I’ve been diagnosed) and stress from the exams coming up. My exams were in January. After my exams, I met my rapist, but not in the way you would expect. I had agreed to a date with a 35 year old man (who I met in a shopping centre. I don’t make good decisions when depressed it turns out). We met after my exams for a date in a pub. Two men noticed us (they knew him). One of them turned out to be nice and friendly.(call him y) He was at the pub with his cousin and he wanted to talk to me later. I brought my best friend A at the time to his apartment, and him and his cousin proceeded to inform me the man I’d seen was 45, had lied to them and said behind my back I was 24 and was a stalker. I shared a joint with them, and they did coke. Y was friendly and got on with me and my friend (who was innocent as a white flower in a mound of snow and had never been exposed to the real world). Y’s cousin, the second man K, kept mostly quiet. My friend (We’ll call her A) decided to leave, and I left with her. K texted me later, he’d gotten my number off Y, and he wanted to meet for a drink later. (2 days). I went out for a drink with him. A lot of students were there drinking to celebrate the end of exams. K was insistent I drink, but I didn’t drink much. Two sips of rum maybe. I had a joint but it made me sick, not relaxed. K wanted to head to his place, but I told him I didn’t want sex. He said we’d just watch a movie. I agreed because I didn’t want to walk home by myself with all the drunk students.
When we got to his place (him and Y shared the apartment), there were 5 men (including y) there all doing coke and I suspect other stuff. One of them had a rottweiler. I’m scared of dogs so K told me to wait in his room. He came back in later and put on a movie on his laptop. Somewhere into it he began groping me. I told him to stop, and that I didn’t want it. He didn’t. I came and I still hate myself for that. It happened several more times. His manner got more disturbing. At one point he had me in a bear hug all the bathroom, and he claimed to be protecting me, since he didn’t know what the other guys would do. I persuaded him to leave me alone and he went into the living room to sell them more coke. I remember trying the front door, and looking for the key to get out. It was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt in my life, because I had nowhere to go except back into the bedroom where I knew I’d get raped again. I know at one point he gave me a pill and I took it. He told me it was valium but it knocked me straight out. I think it happened while I was sleeping. I know I’d been raped by him orally, vaginally and anally. He let me leave after one and a half days, during which I’d been missing and my family, friends and landlady were looking for me.
I fucked up my second semester and had to repeat it this year. I got a into a relationship with someone who couldn’t understand what I’d gone through in my life or how to help me. (I was 19). Then until I had to repeat (this year, I’m 20, I’ve finished and passed, looking to transfer) I took a break. I left that guy. I also proceeded to have a friend with benefit relationship with an old ex of mine, who was bad for me. Around that time I met my current partner, who has been my rock this whole time, and I’ve been his, and he helped me get the help I needed. When I got back to college, most of my friends “drifted” away. I organized a house share with A, (for A since she claimed she couldn’t find accomodation), and she proceeded to do a bunch of things, including turning on me with the housemates, (who wouldn’t have said a word to my partner’s face, considering they were all sheltered cowards, and he was taller and more built than all of them, older and in the army. Hell unless they were all together they were too scared of me) and she kept inserting herself into my most recent rape by claiming it was “her fault” and “she could have stopped me” and all round trying to gain sympathy from others. She also rarely spoke to me, prior to her turning on me. It did hurt me a lot. K is engaged ( I used to stalk his fb), and I guess that angers me too. I don’t get why he can go out there and fuck when sex is russian roulette for me.
As it stands, I’m in a pretty good position I think. I’m looking to transfer colleges, and I’m getting help and going on holiday later this year with my amazing partner (first time leaving Ireland since I was 6!). I don’t know when or if I’ll ever heal, but I’m not going to let my abusers take my life away from me. I’ve always wanted to go into stem cell research and despite the fact I’ve had depression the last 6 years, I think I’ll be okay in the end.
