I’m in a state of flux. I made some complaints and requested some help from some federal entities. I sent an email to Legal Aid. I’m waiting on a dozen FOIAs to be returned. I feel like a goddamn lunatic thinking this shit is actually happening. Like this cannot possibly be happening. This isn’t real and it can’t be because this shit doesn’t happen in real life. Not for a schmuck like {D}. Am I not seeing it? Like I see my mistakes but they were within realm. Sorry I’m a slut, I can still be raped. Sorry we were having a sex party, I still got raped. Sorry you blocked my email address so I over reacted and sent to some people, it was still a complaint about being raped. Sorry I fell in love with a psychopath, I have horrible taste in men, I was still raped.
Goddamnit do people not realize how often this happens? Like it happens and it happens to me a lot. I was afraid to say no to men so I didn’t use my voice. This time I fucking did. And nothing happened. I had it on video and nothing happened. I have been turning this on myself it is me and my attitude and my temperament and my bitchiness that makes them not want to help me. I have been through they were just doing me a favor and not arresting me for whatever “revenge porn” charges they want. But that is all bullshit, I told Wolfson that if he wanted to arrest me for anything to feel fucking free to. I’ll defend myself in court and accept my punishment but {D} needs to too. If I did it wrong just fucking send me to jail. Go the fuck ahead. It’s not like my life has any fucking value. Free rent. Fuck it. But he needs to be put away. He is dangerous.
I’ll say it out loud he also doesn’t get to stop feeling this until I do. He doesn’t. He should not have a happy day in his life until I can have a happy day again. And I’m not fucking there yet and it’s been a year. A fucking year of my life is just fucking gone. I’m not me anymore. I am this shell of an angry bitter person. This isn’t me.
I think that is part of it too, I’m not some scared little woman in the corner in a torn dress with mascara streaming down my face. I don’t look the part for people. I’m not victimy enough. I don’t cry on command. I’m fighting. Then I always assume the question is “well why didn’t she fight harder that night?” That’s what I hear in my head. That’s what I think people are thinking. I did fight. I fucking did. You have no idea how much strength it took to just find the balls to say no that night. That took all the strength I had just to make those goddamn words come out of my mouth. And no one fucking heard me.
I continue to scream and beg and say this isn’t fucking, okay. And no one will fucking listen. I’m living my life in that night and I just keep screaming. And I scream louder and louder and still like nothing, nothing.
I told my dad I was thinking about the law suit. I was hoping he would help me because he is a fucking goddamn attorney, not a good attorney by any stretch of the imagination, but still a fucking attorney. He said “I thought you were going to let this go.”
That’s everyone. Just let it go. Give up. Move on. You try doing that shit. You try doing that when you see it in first and third person all the fucking time. You fucking let go when you are having a perfectly normal day and you see something like a fucking area code and it all comes flooding back in 4K. You let it go when you wake up screaming every night. You fucking let it go when all you want to do is die so it fucking stops. You try that. Then tell me to move on.
This isn’t just this one fucking time of someone raping me. This is 3 years of Brian 2. This is that guy that I went on a date with who wouldn’t get off me when I felt unsafe and trapped. You know what I did with that? I talked to my therapist this was 2014. And I’m not talking about charges or police or anything of the sort, just I felt it. I wasn’t even blaming the guy. But that’s my therapist, right? She says “well do you think he thought he was raping you?” And I didn’t know and maybe it was just me. Maybe it wasn’t real and I overreacted. Maybe I was blaming him for something he didn’t do. I remember it. I felt scared and I did ask him to get off me. He put his hand on my throat. I used to hate that. I can’t stand feeling like I can’t breathe. So thanks to my therapist I came up with an idea. I was going to see him again. I logic-ed through the thought, okay if rape is about control and you don’t let him have control then he doesn’t get what he wants and I win. I’m in charge at that point. So I saw him again and I didn’t back down. I made him fucking know I was enjoying it and he did not get control of me that night. I won. Not him. Not fucking him. Me.
I cannot go on like this. I need to figure out what the finality is going to be for me. I want a court of some kind to look at this and say it was rape. I want to use his fucking name when I talk about him so people know what he is and how he hurts people. I want him to be the marked one, not me. I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve to have to keep fighting like this because the people who are supposed to help you won’t.
Like am I crazy and that video doesn’t look like rape or sound like rape or appear to be rape? Like this does not make sense. If I were sitting on a jury and they told me the definition without exclusion is penetration against the will of another, I would find him guilty. How could anyone not look at that and see it? Like I am so fucking tired of hearing “I believe you, but, there is nothing I can do.” The fuck there isn’t. Just get him into court whatever happens from there is up to the jury. Just get him there. That all I need. Just look at it and tell me if it’s real.
I can’t figure out why no one will talk to me. Media, politicians, lawyers, everyone else. I get it I suck as a human and I’m not important to anyone. I have no value.
I remember {D} talking about that on civil cases determining the value of human life. This one woman, the frizzy-haired Amy Wassermann Schultz I think from the DNC. It was like her mother in law and the sued when she died. But the argument was she was already 80 and in poor health so she was going to die either way. So they had to figure out the value of her life. People are worth money. Everyone has a value. I’m a loser disappointment to my parents. I’m sick. I don’t have any family left that would care if I died. It would probably be a relief to some people if I just fell off the earth. So I have no monetary value. Like whatsoever. So why would anyone give a shit about me or my feelings or wants or desires or dreams. No one is here when I scream at night. I don’t affect anyone or anything. I don’t leave my fucking house. I am just ignored. And what the fuck am I talking about I don’t have dreams. What dreams could I ever possibly have after all this? I medically don’t have a future. I’m broke. I work 60 hours a week for a company I love but a job I hate. I had so much more potential in life. I’m a literal fucking genius. I’m just bad at humaning.
I do wonder if that is part of it too. The way they talk to me about the rape like I’m stupid. I can tell they are bullshitting me and going into lawyer speak trying to not answer while talking. Like it’s amazing to watch and it goes through my head “how fucking dumb do you think I am? Does this shit work on people?” I’m a lot of things but stupid isn’t one of them.
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