I had just broken up with my boyfriend of about 7 months and was leaning on any and all friends I had. I realize that I am VERY difficult to be friends with because of the issues that I come with. And (because he still scares me, I will call him Peter, NOT HIS REAL NAME) Peter was one of the closest guy friends I still had. I worked with Peter for months before, during and after my relationship. He knew pretty much everything about it and me. He was a quiet guy, pretty good in school and never really seemed bothered by much.
But...
and Peter was no exception.
We started hooking up before and after work about 2 months after my break-up. It helped me to forget about my ex. I really never enjoyed it all that much, I guess just knowing I could make someone happy, anyone happy, was enough. He made me promise I wouldn't tell a soul. And that was fine with me at first, but one day I felt it coming to the surface. I asked him if I could tell my best friend at the time, his response was kind of scary.
He responded by saying "no, and if you tell anyone, I will tell everyone you are a crazy psycho and you are obsessed with me and making it up, no one will believe you." This was the moment I knew that I would never hook-up with him again. I went a few weeks without hanging out with him or anything, but he was one of my only close friends and my depression was getting bad again, so I caved. I called him and asked him to hang out. He came over and the plan was to make a pizza and watch a movie, just hang out. But that was not at all what happened.
He came over and we went into the basement to watch tv and talk. About a half-hour later, we started making out. I started to get a little uncomfortable. I stopped kissing and looked up at him. I told him I didn't want to hook up anymore.
He just sat there, looking down on me, with no expression.
After a few seconds, that lasted more than a lifetime. He laughed a tiny bit and began to pull down my pants. I asked him what he was doing, and he just said that he knew I wanted to. I said I really didn't and started to try and push him away. That was not going well, he was very strong. He pulled down my pants, and his own.
(GETS GRAPHIC, STOP READING IF THIS IS TOO MUCH PLEASE AND SCROLL TO BOTTOM)
He started by fingering me and all I could say was no. I said it over and over and over again. I probably said it 50 times. Nothing stopped him, not even a hesitation. When that wasn't working, he decided that sex was the way to go. He said he was just going to do it a few times and that I was going to like it, and then he told me not to worry. I said nothing.
I tried to squirt a little bit, but his whole body weight was on me, his hand pressed into my shoulders and held me down. This was not sex.
Sex is supposed to be beautiful and loving. This was hateful and hurtful. This was not filled with love or kindness this was a power struggle filled painful experience. There was nothing I could do.
I turned to the clock the time was 10:38pm, I remember staring at the clock for about ten mins. The pain made me cry, I had tears running down my cheeks and my eyes closed. This was me slipping from the reality of what was happening/ I had to find a place where I could ignore the pain. This was the most painful thing I have ever felt. Every thrust felt like a thousand knifes stabbing me from the inside out.
And when it was over, he stood up. Peter put on his pants and went into the bathroom. I couldn't move, I just laid there. I went numb all over.
He came out of the bathroom and looked at me.
He looked down on me with no expression and said, "Sorry 'bout that." and walked upstairs and out the door.
I just showered and went to bed, because the next day I had to work with him.
The next day:
I woke up for work and called my best friend, I needed to go to get the morning after pill. I called my best friend at the time, and she said she would go with me to get it. I thanked her. Now at this point, our friendship was already rocky but regardless she said she would go with me. She asked me who it was, I told her it was Peter. She was shocked of course because she was friends with him as well. She asked me if I wanted to, and I froze.
"..... um, yeah" I said, already afraid that I even gave her the name after the warning I received.
That was the end of the conservation before I went into work. Of course I was working with Peter that day. We didn't even make eye contact. The longest 6 hours of my life was spent here, all I wanted to do was run out to my car and cry, but I couldn't.
The second I got off I ran out the door, I looked at my phone....
My heart dropped.
There was a text from Peter.
He was angry I told my friend about this, he told me that she thinks that I am crazy now and that I lied about everything. He told me that he was going to take everything from me and that if I told another soul that he would make sure that everyone knew I was a 'psycho lying bitch'.
Following the 5 pages of threats from Peter was a text from my friend. She told me that she was done and that she was sick of the lies and sick of the crazy. She told me that I needed to go get help and that I was obsessed with Peter.
The rest of my friends followed her lead. They were all gone.
I had no one. No one believed me and I couldn't tell anyone because Peter would take them from me too.
This was the day I lost EVERYTHING. Still, to this day, no one knows Peter's real name. It took me almost a year to tell my family what had happened....
I still see this, feel this everyday. Peter will always scare me, he will always have that power.
PTSD is real, and you are not alone.
this is my life.
But as much as I would love to stop worrying, I can't. I just want to make everyone happy, even if that means putting myself last.
and I wish I could say I never fell for you and I wish I could say I don't care but I do!!! I really, really do!
no matter what.
