This morning was just unbelievable. After some suggestions that I should return to a normal sleeping schedule, I went to bed before 2 AM last night and woke up this morning before 8 AM. I actually felt quite refreshed and ready to do some serious work today. Perhaps even have breakfast at a breakfast-ish time. But alas, things would turn out quite differently.
While I'll keep some details a secret to protect the innocent, I can say that it all started when during a conversation on IRC this morning I happened to mention a gift I got from the 'friend' who met up with me in 2006. When the person I was talking to asked me some questions about that gift, I suddenly started feeling really... weird. It was like a depression, but with some other elements as well. I began to feel uneasy and left the online conversations and took up my usual spot on the bed, in front of the mirror again.
Sitting there, I began to explore these strange feelings and most of all questioned the abuse. First I fully blamed myself. I had invited him, I had said 'yes' to lots of things he'd want to try with me, I had asked him to get that gift for me. The first day when he arrived I had loved his presence. Leaning against him while I was playing a videogame felt really comforting. It was something I had always wanted to experience, something I had missed without realizing it.
Then I realized how he had acted. He hadn't asked me to strip, he took care of that himself. He didn't ask me to touch him, he commanded me. He didn't talk with me about how I was feeling or such, or what I'd want. He'd stimulate me with his fingers in a way which hurted so much. Yet I didn't say no. I didn't want him to leave. I had finally found someone who wanted to come this close to me, and didn't care that I wasn't a regular girl.
The next day during a walk in the forest he tried to strip me again when there was no one around. I felt so embarrassed, yet loved the attention. Then someone drove by on a bicycle, so I quickly stopped. He wanted to continue. That night he wanted to go even further. He already had asked me to pleasure him with my mouth the first night, and now he asked it again, or rather forced me to. I didn't feel like I could say no, so I tried.
That night was when he not only violated my body in many different ways, but also crushed my self-image, since throughout the experiences I felt that I couldn't perform sexually at all, that at most my body was some kind of object for others to make fun of. Thanks to him I not only hate and despise men from the deepest regions of my soul, but have I also lost virtually all respect for my own body. Realizing this, and the arrogant way in which he had treated me those days and nights finally allows me to hate him. Not that I don't put some of the blame on my own shoulders, of course. I was so stupid and foolish back then.
Clearly I still can not decide yet to fully hate him, so that at least I can move on and deal with the issues the abuse has caused, but this tiny bit of anger I'm feeling now is like a small flame I have to protect. It is my only way out of this mess.
I also realized that the other major thing which played at the time, the mental abuse by the psychologists of the gender team, had become merged with the feelings of the abuse, making it hard to differentiate the two. In both cases it was about a lack of respect, of not being seen as myself. Both caused me infinite amounts of pain and anguish.
*starts crying for a moment*
Anyway... so I sat there crying for a while on my bed until I pretty much felt exhausted, and decided to go back to bed just after 9 AM. When I woke up it was past 1 PM already, and my head felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. Emotionally I felt completely extinguished, because of which I managed to make a friend of mine hate me when I told her that her boyfriend didn't care whether she'd message him or not. Even now that I'm writing this I still don't really get why she was so upset about it. I don't like her boyfriend anyway, but she's completely fawning over him. Ah well, I don't care right now.
The thing is that today I was told for the first time what happened to me would be classified here in The Netherlands as rape instead of sexual abuse. Together with the many new memories and feelings of the rape I can recall again, it was devastating. For the first time I realize what has happened to me.
Yes, I'm crying again right now, together with feeling really angry. I want to kill all men in the world right now, that's how strong this anger is. My past experiences really have made it impossible for me to function emotionally, and I don't really see this change any time soon. This pain is just too deep to reach. Even when I try I can not see how far it goes, or what to do about it. All I know is that I'm in excruciating pain whenever I get confronted with certain things.
Now that I'm becoming more aware of this, however, I am now able to acknowledge that much of the behaviour I was displaying was typical of rape victims, like acting without respect for one's body and exposing oneself to rather questionable situations. Now that I've come this far I can say that there are many things I wouldn't do again, and others I'll never even think about. To me it has become clear that porn and prostitution are morally completely wrong and I'll never have a part of it. If I had the chance, I'd wipe this world clear of both.
I have finally found some respect for my own body, and I won't let it slip away again. I'll never become a whore. When I've had my surgery later this year and I'm finally more the woman I wish to become emotionally and physically, I won't be sleeping with random men. I'll be more picky and cold than one could ever imagine. I don't think that my run-in with this one guy will ever really change my views on guys in general. Yes, one guy can ruin a girl forever, and I'm hardly the only rape victim. Nearly all women come into contact with rape or sexual abuse at some point in their lives. Does this mean all men are scum? Perhaps not, but definitely most are.
Today I mailed the CD-ROM with the MRI images to the VUMC so that they'll receive it tomorrow. I've decided to get a place to live in Enschede next week no matter what. It'll only be for a few months or so anyway. I've actually managed to work today, and after a quick reinstall of Windows on my laptop I should be able to get back to it soon again.
Love me, hate me, care for me... just don't ignore me. I hate being alone.