My doctor wants me to write about my past. More specifically, my rape. Considering I'm having trouble just looking at the word, I don't know how far I'm going to get. I was 18. I used to go out clubbing with a male friend of mine who was going to the local university. There was always a group of us. Because we used to stay out so late and I lived 30 minutes away, he'd sneak me into his dorm and let me stay in his room. His roommate was never there, so I would sleep in his bed. Mom wasn't thrilled but she knew the guy and trusted him.
One weekend in February of 1984 we went out and his roommate was with us. I remember feeling uncomfortable around him but that might have been because I didn't know if I was going to have a place to sleep that night. I remember us going somewhere, to someone's house/apartment, but I don't remember who it was or where it was. It may have been someone who was going out with us, but I don't remember.
Actually, I remember very little about that night, but what I do remember has affected me ever since. I don't remember where we went, what happened while we were out, or what time we came back to the dorm. I do remember my state of mind at the time was more along the lines of "why not do _______," instead of "why do _______." I remember making out with both my friend and his roommate. We had put some blankets and pillows on the floor between the beds. We were all still dressed. My friend was chewing on my ear, which I didn't care for, so I asked him to stop. This hurt his feelings, so he got up and left.
That was it for me, too. I told the roommate I was going to go to sleep, then I took my little overnight bag into the bathroom and changed into my nightgown. A bright green, knee-length, 70's daisy print nightgown that had been my sister's. Not exactly sexy lingerie.
I went back to the room and dropped my bag on the floor. The roommate was in his bed, his back towards me. My friend's bed was the one next to the door. I had left the door cracked because I didn't know if he had taken his keys with him. I crawled into his bed and pulled up the covers.
I never heard him. My back was towards him and I thought his back was towards me. All I know is that I was grabbed, turned onto my back, the covers were pulled down, my underwear taken off, and the roommate forcing himself on me. I was petrified. He was so much bigger than I was. I couldn't scream, no sound would come out. I kept looking out the crack in the door hoping my friend would come back. At some point I closed my eyes and willed myself to be somewhere else. My mind went, my body stayed.
I don't remember falling asleep. I remember waking up. My friend was asleep in a chair at the foot of his roommate's bed. I don't know how I looked or what I said, but he came over to me and hugged me. I pleaded with him to never, ever leave me alone with "him" again, but I could not verbalize why. That would eventually cost me my friendship with him.
I couldn't figure out what had happened. I remember going home and telling my mom, and she wanted to take me to the hospital. I wouldn't let her. I kinda wish she'd have been more assertive. I tried to block everything out. I know I told a classmate (at business school), and whatever I told him, he immediately figured out I had been raped. He wanted me to tell him the guy's name, but I wouldn't. I just figured it was my fault it happened so what was the point in going after the guy. I remained in denial for many, many years. In some ways I still am.
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