this is not a letter, just a few thoughts i had the urge to scribe down.

tw: heavy on the rape. read only if you have spoons.

it is funny where “it” still pops up.

funny if you are a psychopath or someone trying to cope with unspeakable horrors done to them.

“it” being rape.

i was getting a trasvaginal utlrasound today to help with a possible pcos diagnosis. i was staring up at the cold, unforgiving ceiling. disattached from my body. a thin paper sheet is my only dignity. i hear directions from at my waist. it was the sexual assault forensic examination all over again.

i focused on belly breathing. i am in control. i am safe.

this is my new reality.

and that is the part that hurts the most- permanency.

the anger towards my rapist and the (in)justice system is mostly gone. i did everything right. i am not to blame. i am still alive. if my rapist does this again, my voice will stand with hers. or his. or theirs. they will not be alone to face our rapist. justice will be more likely to happen this time.

the scared, the fear, powerlessness feelings though have made a home in my being and have no intention of leaving.i function with them having residency there, but they slip in uncontrolled ways… usually in moments like today. i am sure this will not be the last time i have to reassure myself that i am safe and in control. feel like a stranger in my own body. disassociated. scared.

what now?

well, after I write this, there is a cat to pet. dishes to do. my kitchen to finish unpacking. a car to wash. maybe a nap. everyday life here now.

just reality.

xoxo,

your author