![]() I had a great job lined up, I was getting healthier, and I was starting to feel hopeful. I even had enough credits to graduate a semester early and start my new life. Despite all the self destructive behaviour, I was doing great in school and holding down three part time jobs. And by ‘get my life together’ I meant get out of there as fast as I could. In my third year of University I decided to get my life together. I’m afraid people will judge me for drinking now, as if I should have learned my lesson. Now, I’m afraid to tell anyone because I’m ashamed of the pattern. Of being ostracized and called ‘Pig’ by the fraternity brothers like I’d heard them chant at other girls. I ran to my boyfriend for safety and comfort but learned that it wasn’t a lie, my boyfriend had given ‘permission’ to his fraternity brother.īack then, I was afraid to tell anyone for fear of losing all my friends. ![]() While I fought and pushed him away, trying to get out from under him, he told me that my boyfriend gave him permission. I remember the whole thing, his red plaid shirt, the smell of Black Velvet on his breath, the lumpy grey blanket tangled at my feet. I knew what I was hiding from, why didn’t I just leave? One of the other fraternity brothers came in while I slept and raped me. I remember going into the room and instead of crawling into the bed, I took his blanket and hid in the closet, sleeping on the floor, covered head to toe. I asked him not to tell anyone where I was going, he said he wouldn’t. I asked one of the brothers if I could borrow his room for a quick nap, he was someone I trusted. I’d been drinking at a fraternity party during homecoming week (their parties tend to last all day and into the night – as if that matters). The second time I was raped I was 19, and the circumstances were disturbingly similar to the event three years earlier. I got a boyfriend who treated me terribly, I incurred tens of thousands of dollars in credit card debt trying to fill the hole in my heart, and did a number of other things I try to forget – continuing down a self destructive path. People often used the words “hot mess” to describe me and I thought it was a compliment. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work like that – I did go to college but found that environment only magnified the problems I was having. I’d have a chance to reinvent myself and go back to being a good girl. ![]() I was working as a waitress and biding my time until I could go away to college where I would escape it all. I felt alone in every way, and knew I had to take care of myself. At age 17, in the middle of my Senior year, I moved out – renting a single wide trailer for $50/month. My drinking spiralled out of control, I was lying to my parents and getting in trouble at school. After I was raped the first time, things changed. ![]()
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