Depar & Delaeh



 

I’m beyond bored. Lying in the bed, relaxing, on my laptop. I hope I was grammatically correct by saying “lying”. I found out that I’m graduating this summer. Cool, huh? These last 4 years in college have brought on so many headaches. I’m looking forward to graduation, but I am not looking forward to telling my mom that I won’t be graduating in December. She is most definitely going to kill me! But she knows what I’ve been through since I’ve been enrolled in this cursed university. Everything that can go wrong…has gone wrong. This wrong ranges from heartbreak, to rape, to the struggle of keeping friends and paying bills on time.

See, my mom is my best friend! She’s basically taught me everything I know and tries her best to make me listen to her advice, but let’s just say I was a trouble child…but we’ll talk about that another day! LOL! She’s always been there for me…especially during the time of my rape.

I was 20 years old out having fun with some friends. Now that I look back at it…I have no idea where those “friends” were during my rape. I was smoking weed with a couple of friends…it was the usual. I had been smoking since before college. I picked up my first blunt at 16 from a family member, so this was nothing new to me. I remember it like it was yesterday; cute top with a navy blue pencil skirt. Before you know it, I was getting raped. I can’t even describe the moment…just numb. As I was getting raped another man watched and did nothing as I cried for help. It didn’t make it any better that it was an apartment full of people knowing that I was getting raped, and no one helped me.

 

It was over. It was done. I ran out crying, pleading to the men in the living room to help me. “I swear to God I won’t say anything! Just please take me home, please!” I don’t feel bad for myself though. I feel bad for the men that have to live with not helping me on their conscious.

Before you know it I was inside of an ambulance with my best friend by my side. I remember the paramedic in the back telling me that I was strong. She was white, had blonde hair (in a ponytail), with a slim face. She was really nice, but one thing I will always remember is my BFF being there with me.

The hospital took my clothes and placed them into a zip-loc bag and before you know it, a detective was questioning me about what happened. I had to relive that horrible moment over and over. I remember my sister calling me crying, and asking if I was okay. I was ok…considering that the nurse had just told me that I received a pill to stop HIV since he didn’t use a condom. That’s when I found out they have medication to stop just about anything. The nurse told me that I would probably be sick from all of the medicine. The hospital gave me a sexual assault folder and sent me on my way. My parents had arrived to my dorm by the time I was out of the hospital. They turned a 5 hour drive into a 3 hour drive. I was so embarrassed…especially in front of my dad. I felt disgusting and like I let my dad down. I don’t know why…I just felt like a terrible daughter. He was so angry, but not at me…at my rapist. I packed up and from there my life changed.

I finally came back to school. My rape story had been in the newspaper and even the news. I had this new fear of a man. I was too afraid to be around a man by myself, to be touched by a man, anything.

‘Til this day I am still afraid to get into an elevator with a man…I prefer to take the stairs in that case. I can’t even go on a date without thinking a man will hurt me or doing FBI work before the date, which sucks. But better safe than sorry! The police never did anything about my rape. That is when I learned that most rape cases just get thrown to the back. I had so much proof, a rape kit performed, and he admitted it, but a final arrest was never made. This left me upset and confused. Why did I deserve this? What man will ever love a rape victim? Who wants a dirty woman? …those are the questions I asked myself.

 

I saw my rapist all of the time, and I found myself hiding or avoiding being in public. It was honestly one of the hardest times in my life. But I am most definitely at a stage in my life where I can talk about it and not cry. It hasn’t been an easy process, but through counseling and writing it has become easier. The hardest part is letting a male that you’re interacting with, know that you’re uncomfortable, scared, or nervous because they are doing something that’s triggering a flashback, which can be creepy for the guy you’re trying to date. It’s hard, but I love how strong I am now. Through counseling and more counseling I’ve gotten so much better with being around men, sometimes by myself.

I know that I will never be “normal” like I was before, but I am making progress. I know there are several women that have gone through rape, but you have to be strong. My mother, who is also a rape victim, has been there for me during the entire process, but I also know what it feels like to not be understood. In this type of situation, no one really understands what you’ve been through unless they have been raped themselves. You are not disgusting, you are not dirty, you did not deserve it, and it is not your fault…trust me. God is just strengthening you, so that you will be ready when he sends you an Angel.

I’m human. It’s just a different story line.

-Justice

"It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light" -Aristotle Onassis