“After everything first happened, I panicked, I locked myself in the bathroom and I called a friend, ‘I just got raped, you’ve got to come find me, you’ve gotta get me to the hospital.’
At first I tried to press charges, but I couldn’t go through with it. The cops — they made everything worse for me. They didn’t believe me, they didn’t believe it was rape. One of them thought I was a hooker and he kept asking me, ‘Are you sure you didn’t just have a bad date?’ and the other guy asked me, ‘Are you sure you didn’t want it?’ I wanted it?! Yes, Mr. Officer, I got up that morning and I said to myself, ‘by God, I sure feel like having the shit kicked out me while being raped; yep, that’s what I feel like doing today.’ So, I couldn’t deal with the cops, not on top of everything else.
Which makes it hard now, because the other day on the bus I ran into one of the guys who raped me. I started dissociating, like I was floating away from myself, but I made it home. I went to bed and I stayed there for three days, I hardly had the strength to get up. At one point I went to the kitchen and I ended up dropping, and accidentally smashing, a plate on the floor. Hearing the smash triggered me again — it was like I could feel them punching me in the mouth, it was like I could taste my blood again.
I don’t know, it’s all fucked up. Like the other day I heard a little girl in my building scream and start to cry and I just started sobbing uncontrollably. That’s not normal. If another counselor tells me that my reactions right now are ‘normal,’ I think I’m going to lose it. How can any of this be ‘normal’? It’s all so fucking messed-up and I don’t know if I’ll ever be ‘normal’ again.”