Yes it did. And for the life of me i could not fathom what I had done to deserve such cruelty. But no! No one deserves it. No one deserves an attack upon their person, an invasion of their privacy and a violation of their peace of mind no matter what you did, unless you are the scoundrel who hurts, abuses, steals and kills for own personal gain.
CRIME! No matter how small, how minuscule, how irrelevant it may seem to the next person, the victim carries the scars of shame and guilt for eternity. The "what-ifs" torture and torment their soul and leaves them fearing the worst. It doesnt matter how many times you've experienced the humiliation, the hurt and the violation, the memories of every encounter never really leave you. Years later, the scars disappear and the wounds heal but the memories remain. With every blink of the eye, every night in the silence of ones thoughts, one is forced to relive the torture. Not because one wants to but because such things are engraved so deep in ones being that it becomes impossible not to. Forgetting is not even a possibility, more like a rare fantasy. Moving on is essential though. The tears dry and you learn to sleep with the lights off and sometimes you can even fake a smile but the event on its own never leaves you. It stays. The criminals live and forget about what they did to you but you, the victim, you are forced to somehow go on.
Support groups and therapy and all similar prescribed rubbish all tell you the same thing, that you must be thankful he didn't kill you. They tell you to stop crying and appreciate that you're still alive
Really? Are you sure that's what you want to say to me? He didn't kill me? I must be thankful I am still alive? Don't you see? No, I'm not alive and yes he did kill me. I close my eyes and I see his face. The door shuts behind me and I scream with fear. What kind of life am I living, if one at all?
Who and what have I become? I am afraid of the dark. I am afraid of my own laughter because I know that if I get too happy someone will want to take it away. So, don't you DARE tell me I should be thankful I am still alive. You weren't there, you didn't see what I saw, you didn't feel what I felt. Its shameful that we share a society with such beasts.
I am angry, I am hurt. I have been violated. Don't you see? You don't have the right to tell me it will be okay because it won't. You don't know how I feel.
Society has become numb to such intimate invasions. We have categorized these heinous crimes and placed them in order of what we see as important. HAS SOCIETY LOST ITS MIND???
An attack is an attack. No one asks for these things to happen and when they do then everyone else is suddenly an expert. We are women and an invasion of our space and privacy is no less important than that of the previous or next person.
I am a victim of crime! I am a victim of invasion of privacy and violation of my fundemental right to safety.What happened, you may ask? Does it matter? Does it really matter?
IT HAPPENED TO ME!
Now I sit and cry. Don't you dare tell me how to feel. This is me! Go tell him how to handle women and their belongings, but not me. Don't tell me how to handle my feelings.
IT HAPPENED TO ME!
Is anyone hearing me? Is anyone understanding what I'm saying? ME!!! It wasn't a book I read, it wasn't a television drama, it wasn't a story I heard. I was there. It happened to me.
Just because I am strong and I can somehow handle it doesn't make it okay. You have no right! This is me! Who the hell do you think you are doing what you did?
IT HAPPENED TO ME!
I saw it, I felt it, I heard it, I lived it.
Apparently I am lucky I am still alive. HA. HA. If this is alive I want very little of it. The fear, the constant worrying, the verge of tears I live on, the "what-if-its-him?" mantra I sing in my head when I see someone who even closely resembles the beast. Is it not enough? Listening to my own heartbeat is scary. I am terrified of being alone.
I am scared out of my mind! Why? Because I know what I'm talking about. It happened to me!
