Life After Rape

 69. LIFE AFTER RAPE

Hello and welcome back to Raped 25 Years. At this time I invite you to join me on a short walk through my journey of healing from the trauma of sexual abuse and sexual assault. Don’t forget to stay to the end so you can enjoy my gem of positivity.

Rape. The word itself can conjure a whole train of thoughts and emotions to different people. But what does it mean for the survivor on a day to day basis? I obviously cannot speak for anyone else, so I thought I’d give you a look into the daily fight I have myself.

One thought I have constantly, is that of being filthy and dirty. Just have a bath or a  shower, you might well say. I do. At first it was constantly, because I felt so contaminated. The hottest water I could stand, and the relentless scrubbing of my whole body (breasts, anus, and vagina included) with stainless steel wool until I bled. Now, I’ve gone the other way. I struggle to be naked at all for showering. 

After rape I feel compelled to sleep with my pants off, but fully naked, no. I unfortunately have even developed the anomaly of answering the front door to strangers in nothing but a bra. I just feel like I’ve already been raped by every man in the world. So it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing (or not wearing) when anyone sees me.

It’s not uncommon for me to display what are called “obsessive compulsive” post-rape cleanliness urges. Like washing my hands for five minutes each at least ten times a day. Or taking all the clean dishes out of the cupboard and washing them each day, to make sure the kitchen stays clean. Or walking in certain patterns on the sidewalk to stay safe.

Leaving my home is stressful. I hate it, absolutely detest it. At first, it was because I feared my attackers might see me and continue their disgusting behaviour of sexually horrifying assaults on me. Then I became scared by association that any man would see me and I worried about being raped by any man, not just previous perpetrators.

Now I sit in my chair, in a corner of my room and just plain hide. I’m trying to hide from the world in its entirety, not just men. I’m keeping myself safe from all harm. Or at least that’s what I think I’m doing. However, there is another key point about this trauma response.

I sit (or stand) in corners and against walls. I hate to think that people might be able to be behind me. It positively scares me. I automatically think that if people are behind me, they will attack me either physically and/or sexually. And I really don’t think that I can cope with any more of those tortuous crimes against me and my body.

The front door. At first I kept the door religiously locked. And I never opened the door, even for deliveries. The deliveries were simply dropped at the door, a knock on the door, then I wait long enough for the person to go away. Then I started to leave it open for a little, to let some fresh air in. And now? I can’t even be bothered to shut the door, let alone lock it. I just think that if someone wants to hurt me in any way, they’re going to. Nothing I do is going to stop them. So why not make it easier — and no property damage.

And then there’s light. I can’t stand being in the dark. I feel like there’s always someone waiting for me in the dark. The hair on the back of my neck prickles, and every single sense goes into high alert. Even after the light has been turned on in a dark room, it still takes a few minutes for that “danger, danger” feeling to settle back down. 

I even have to sleep with the light on. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I need to be able to see everything around me straight away. I need to know if someone is in the room with me the instant my eyes open. I’m too afraid to fall asleep in the dark, too.

What about you? Do any of these things sound familiar to you? All of these scenarios are common in society. You may have some. You may have all. Maybe you have even more than this. One thing is sure. Rape changes the survivor. And that’s exactly what you and I are. We’re not victims, because we are still alive. And that’s what make us survivors. Ours lives are changed, yes. But it’s still a life. And while there’s life, there’s hope. That hope is we can all heal.

This time the gem of positivity is attributed to none other than Anne Frank:

“Where there’s hope, there’s life. It fills us with fresh courage and makes us strong again.”

And that’s just it. With our life comes the hope of healing. It takes courage on our part to heal. But as we do, we will find that our healing actually makes us stronger. And that makes healing worth our life. Don’t you agree?

Thank you for joining me on this short walk in my journey of healing from sexual trauma. Don’t forget to leave a comment on what gives you the hope to heal. And until next time, just breathe and believe.

With love and care, Ruby.