It was the 28th December 98, not exactly the best time of year for me anyway, due to physical abuse which occurred during my childhood by my father who was an alcoholic. This was always a particularly bad time of year there was too many bad memories and reminders. So the last thing I needed to make me hate that time of year any more was what happened next.
My friends boyfriend came to my house, he said he and his girlfriend (my friend) were having problems and he needed someone to talk to. I like to think of myself as a good listener and if I can help anyone in anyway, I will. So I invited him in, not think for one minute what happened would happen. He was supposed to be my friend, why should I suspect anything?
He started by saying his girlfriend didn't understand him and that she was jealous and possessive. He said he wished she was more like me. Obviously this was not what I wanted or expected to hear, so I told him he should really speak to his girlfriend about it, as I didn't think it would help matters by talking to me, unless he would like me to talk to her and tell her how he was feeling. Although I said I would do this I stressed that I thought it best they sit down together and talk things over.
This is when things turned nasty, for want of a better word. He pushed me on the sofa, pinned me down and said 'I'm not leaving until I get what I came for'. I pleaded with him to stop and kept saying 'no!', but my pleas fell on deaf ears. I tried to scream and shout in the hope that one of my neighbours would hear and come to my rescue, I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
He had one hand on my throat and he was like sitting on me with his knees on my arms to keep me pinned down. I couldn't move, I felt totally helpless, the more I tried to get free, the more pressure he put on my throat. I have asthma and I started wheezing badly, this made him ease the pressure of my throat every so slightly, but it was too late I was having an asthma attack, and he didn't even care, he carried on regardless.
He said 'relax and enjoy it, you want it really, stop playing hard to get.' How the hell was I supposed to relax and enjoy it when I was having an asthma attack and was about to be forced to have sex. I just closed my eyes, hoping it was all just a nightmare that I would wake up from any minute.
I'll spare you the details of the actual rape, mainly because it is still too painful to talk about. I guess I've tried to block it out, although not very successfully.
When it was all over, he just got up, got himself together, and as he was leaving he said with a smirk on his face, 'I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.' Hearing the door close, I got up and made my way towards the door, I had to make sure he had actually left and I had to lock the door. Once I was sure he had actually left I locked the door and collapsed in a heap at the door, and started crying uncontrollably. All that was running through my head was 'why???'
I managed to get myself back on my feet and went to get my inhaler, as my airways felt more than ever like they were closing off, it was like his hand was still on my throat making it difficult to breathe. Once I got myself together, I knew I had to call my friend, I had to tell her what her boyfriend had done. I feared for her safety, with her being in the same house as him.
He got back to their house first and told her a load of lies about me having made a pass at him, and when he rejected it, I went crazy saying that I was going to tell his girlfriend that he raped me. I told her everything that happened, in between crying and trying to breathe properly, but I wasted my breath, as she didn't believe a word I said. She said 'why the fuck are you lying? He'd never do something like that, and even if he did you must have asked for it.'
I couldn't believe it, how could she say something so hurtful like that, she knew me better than that. I just hung up the phone, there was no point in me talking to her anymore she had already made up her mind, and nothing I was going to say was going to change that. There was no way I was going to convince her, she didn't want to believe it, who would want to believe that about their boyfriend?
I sat down on the floor, holding my knees up to my chest and rocking back and forth, trying to make some kind of sense of what had happened, but there was to many thought running through my head and none of them were making any sense. As I sat there I felt more lost than I have ever felt in my life. It was at this point I lost it, I got up and started punching the walls. I was so full of anger and frustration, and I had to get it out of my system.
Punching walls didn't help much though. I am a self injurer and have been for over 6 years, although at the time I hadn't self injured in 2 weeks, which was a major achievement for me, but I resorted to my old method of coping, cutting. My skin was too tight, it was as if my blood couldn't breathe, so I cut my arm again and again. Thinking if I just cut deep enough and in the right place I could end it all, I could escape this nightmare I was living.
Once I calmed down, (which I have no idea how long this took, I lost all track of time) I had to shower, I had to get clean, I felt dirty and used. I could smell him, it was like he was everywhere. I got in the shower and I scrubbed every inch of my body with a nail brush until my skin was red raw, I had to get all traces of him off me.
I know I shouldn't have showered especially if I was going to report it, but I guess I had already decided that I wasn't going to report it, for shame of the whole thing. Also I had heard too many times of the guy getting let off, and I couldn't put myself through anymore, I had suffered more than enough. I was too afraid that people would think I was lying, after all if my own friend didn't believe me what chance did I have of getting a complete stranger to believe me. I feel guilty for not reporting it though, as I'll always live with the thought that he might do it to someone else, and I could have possibly prevented it.
The whole thing plays over and over in my head, and I continually ask myself, did I deserve it, like my friend said I did? Did I lead him on in some way and give him the wrong impression? Was it really all my fault for the what he had done? I know deep down the answers to these questions are all 'no', but it's hard to ignore that your own friend believes that if it really happened then I must have deserved it. I think another reason I blamed myself for what happened was the fact that I'd never even so much as heard him raise his voice before. I always thought of him as a big softy, and I couldn't have been more wrong. Maybe that's what he wanted me to believe, maybe that was his way of befriending me, so he could get what he wanted.
I've not slept properly since it happened, although my sleeping pattern was already erratic before this, but now when I close my eyes he's there watching me with that smirk on his face. When I do manage to sleep, which is usually due to exhaustion and I pass out I have nightmares. The nightmares are so vivid it's like reliving the whole thing again. One night in particular, the nightmare so was terrifying that I just wanted to get out of bed and run away, just get away, get out the house. I couldn't move though, it was like I was paralysed from the waste down. No matter how much I wanted to move I couldn't. I had no where to run anyway, there was no where to escape to.
At the time I no longer felt safe in my own home, and still feel the same way to a certain extent now. Although I didn't feel safe in the house, I was even worse outside, I found myself constantly looking over my shoulder, which resulted in not going out. I was like a prisoner in my own home. I bought additional locks for all the doors and windows, as I was petrified he was going to get in the house and rape me again.
3 weeks after it happened, I had to explain to my boyfriend why I was acting the way I was. I wouldn't go out the house and I couldn't stand him touching me, it just freaked me out. He was very understanding, or at least he tried to be, but he just couldn't handle seeing me hurting the way I was. He wanted to kill the person that did it too me, but I wouldn't tell him, who it was that had done it. I knew he would do something stupid and I didn't want him getting into trouble because of me. I just wanted him to be there for me, although at the same time I wanted him to give me space, just some time to get myself together.
He thought I just needed security and love and affection from him and this would make everything okay and everything would be back to normal. It wasn't enough though, my whole world was crumbling around me and I didn't know how to stop it. He asked me to marry him. I wanted so much to say 'yes', but with everything that had happened, and the way I was feeling and acting, it just wouldn't have been fair on him, it wasn't the right time. I explained to him why I said 'no', but he couldn't understand. He took it badly, he thought I no longer loved him because of this and the fact that I was so cold towards him and couldn't show him any affection.
On the 15th February 98 he committed suicide, so now as well as everything else, I have to live my life feeling guilty because he committed suicide. I keeping thinking it's my fault, and if I had only said 'yes' to his marriage proposal he would still be here today.
I'm working through things or at least trying to, but there are so many thoughts and feelings I just can't deal with, I don't know how to deal with them. Instead I shut them out, just try to ignore them, but they are always there, there is no escaping them. I just hope in time I will be able to get back to some kind of normality, whatever that is. I don't want to feel this way, but I don't know how to make myself feel better. One of my problems is I bottle everything up inside, never show anyone how I'm feeling, but I'm sick of being like that and always wearing a mask. The mask that I wear for such a large part of my life pretending everything is fine, putting on the brave face acting as if everything is all right, when in actual fact I'm screaming inside, and I only wish someone could hear my screams.
Debbie 27th April 1999
Last updated 10th May 1999