**TRIGGER WARNING: RAPE AND SEXUAL ASSAULT**
During my mindless scrolling through my Facebook feed this morning I came across an article by Jezebel entitled “Rapists Explain Themselves on Reddit, and We Should Listen”. Apparently there is a whole page with comments from rapists, both men and women (remember, women can rape too!), with explanations as to why they raped. I read the article, I have NOT gone to the Reddit page nor do I think I will ever do so. The article itself was triggering enough. In fact I’m writing this post to try and quell the panic and anxiety that is building in my chest. I can count on one hand the number if people I have ever told my rape experiences to. Some got the simple answer, “Yes I was raped…” and some got all the nasty details of it. The reason I am writing this post is because I believe that those experiences effected me a lot more then I like to admit and feed my anxiety and depression. And since this blog is about ALL my fun medical conditions it seems like a good idea to discuss it. I haven’t ever really talked about my mental illness on here. I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Panic Disorder and Situational Depression (sometimes called Secondary Depression). I digress though. I read the article with the usual amount of rightous outrage that I usually feel when I read such things. I have dealt with a lot of the emotional scars of my experiences but every now and again they surprise me.
It was this quote…
“I’m a good man. I have a wife and a couple of kids now and I’m a good father and husband. I’m a pretty moral guy. But I think the thing that has always stuck with me…is how close I came to actually doing it. If I hadn’t looked up at her face and seen what she was feeling, I might have continued. In my mind, at the time, she wanted it. I can remember staring at the ceiling while on the couch thinking “in a couple of minutes she’s going to come out here and get on top of me.”
and this one…
…It was then I looked at her face. She was petrified. I at that point pulled myself together, rolled off her and apologized. My hormones were RAGING. I asked her why she didn’t want to. I told her what I thought above. She started to cry.
These two are what triggered, what set off the panic and anxiety. See my rape experiences were not what society likes to consider a “clear cut” case of rape. I never said no. I never tried to fight him off. I wasn’t beaten bruised and bloody. It wasn’t some big scary man that did this. It was my boyfriend. Who I loved. And who claimed to love me. And on the occasions where he did take what he wanted, he never looked me in the face. Those words made me feel physically ill.
I think that’s enough for me on this topic for now.
Love, Light and the Blessings of the Ancestors.