I realize I haven’t written on here in over a year. Two years ago, something horrible happened to me. One year ago, I finally mustered up the courage to speak about my trauma. I decided, with the help of a mental health professional, to branch out and tell my friends and family why I had been so distant. Why I had changed and become this different person.
One person who I thought was a friend was incredibly insensitive and invalidating. They demanded to know whether I was drunk when it happened, whether I knew him, whether I really wanted it. As if it was my fault. They asked me if it was really “that bad”, why I didn’t come home, why I didn’t report. I was in tears, in shock, unable to speak as they berated me and further assaulted me with questions.
After that, my progress halted. I went back to the nightmares, sleeplessness, and shame. I repeated my “friend’s” demands in my head. Why didn’t I report it? Why didn’t I leave? What if it was my fault? What if I deserved it?
I became silenced. I stopped writing.