This is a small sketch I made of a experience of PTSD I had after being sexually assaulted and raped.  

 

I thought I was over it.  I talked about my experiences with friends.  I thought that by talking about it with friends made it less impactful, because it was bad I wouldn't feel like talking about it with them.  

 

I was wrong. 

 

One night I was out with friends.  I had been behaving myself. In the same way I shouldn't have to justify what happened.  I was out dancing on the dance floor.  I had spent the night dancing with my friends and other people on the dance floor.  The end of the night was coming.  I was resting when I was asked to dance by a friendly smile.  I agreed.  My friends were around.  I was in no danger.  

 

Within a limited amount of time all the major lights came on and the DJ started to kick everyone out.  The stranger grabbed my wrist and began to drag me out of the club.  I remember feeling very confused and dazed at this time.  I said polietly "I have to find my friends."  I remember he said almost sinisterly "Oh, I will help you find them."  I remember thinking that was weird. He didn't know what they looked like.  

 

I then saw my friends and said loudly and pointed with my other friends that my friend were over there in the corner. He continued to pull me toward the door.  I remember turning around and trying to scream for my friend to hear me that I needed his help.  

 

By the time I started to turn my head around everything had gone black.  I don't remember anything from this time. The next moment I remember was my face hitting the fresh air and my two friends holding me on both sides by my arm.  They asked me if I was ok.  I broke down.  I remember only being able to cry out "no, no, no. Why does this keep happening. Why do they think this is ok.?"

My friends held me all the way home. Telling me it was ok.  They wouldn't let anything happen to me. That as soon as they saw him they were on top of me.  My female friend said she tried to grab me from him but he still wouldn't let go.  It took my male friend ripping me from this strangers hands to escape.  This terrifies me.  I can't remember.  I can't even pretend to image that I remember feeling the interaction while I was blacked out. 

 

I remember making it to the next place.  One friend placed his hands on both sides of my face. I was in distress.  He looked me in the eyes as if to help ground me back to earth.  He said, "you are beautiful and we hate seeing you this sad.  We are here for you." This moment was the moment that helped bring me back to reality.  The terror began to subside even though the pain of the experience gave me panic attacks for days.  At least I was in the present again. 

 

I don't know if I will ever understand this experience. I was sure that the experiences of being sexually assaulted and raped were in no way ever able to impact me again.  I thought I had let go of the terror and sadness.  I am currently attending counseling.  I can say that the experience I have had in counseling has possitively changed my life. It has allowed me to really recogonize in myself that I was not ok with the things that happened, that it was ok to be mad at the people that hurt me in these ways, and realize that I do deserve good things in my life.  

 

I originally drew this sketch in my journal as a way of getting the images out of my head.  I feel like I was able to let go of these images by sketching them out.  I am hoping my sharing this story with this page that I can also let go of the stigma I have of thinking my story is any less impactful as anyone elses.  I need to know that what happened to me mattered....the same as I would tell anyone else what happened to them mattered and it shouldn't have happened.  I hope to believe that about myself someday.