Trigger warning – the links lead to posts which describe my rape
I wish I could pretend September 17th doesn’t exist or that it was like every other day…only it’s not for me. Maybe it will be again in some distant future but for now it’s a day where I try not to think of Dave Martin and everything he took from me.
If I am going to be honest, I still think about being raped every day. It’s not always a vivid reliving of what happened (thank goodness for that!) but there is at least one daily moment where the impact of that night sends ripples through my present.
I want to coherently explain all the ways this changed me but right now the emotion is too much…so for now this is a placeholder until I find the words.