My Story!
Part 3 - The Beginning : Freedom
Life is a journey, and like every journey it has its ups and downs. So get ready and buckle up because this is the story of my journey!
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My heart is beating out of my chest and I am shaking as I write this. What I’m about to tell you is something I never talk about. Something I was embarrassed and ashamed to recognize. I have been in and out of denial about this for almost 5 years. One drink, and that is all I could remember. This is unfortunately a similar scenario that happens to a lot of young college girls. It might happen at a frat house, bar or nightclub…but not usually at your boyfriend’s house. But after everything he did to me, should I really be surprised that this happened? I mean, silly me for not thinking that my boyfriend might put something in my drink… I was sitting on his bed going through my phone when he handed me a red solo cup filled to the top with some sort beverage. I asked him what was in it and I think he said something about it being some sort of vodka soda. So “trusting” him I began to drink what he made me. I don’t remember finishing it. I’d like to add that at this point in time, I wasn’t a light-weight. By this point my tolerance to alcohol was so high it would take a lot more than a single drink for me to feel buzzed. I only have one memory after I had the drink. A memory forever scarred in my brain, something I will sadly never forget… I was naked and he was on top of me. I remember saying, “no, I don’t want to.” Over and over again. I was so out of it that getting words out of my mouth was the hardest thing, it was like being in a dream where you’re trying to talk or scream but you can only get out a whisper. I must’ve passed out or fell asleep, either way, that’s all I remember after this one drink. The next day I woke up and we went to get breakfast. While we were driving he says, “I can’t believe that happened last night.” to which I responded, “what happened?”. He said, “you don’t remember? We had sex.” I said, “What are you talking about.” I had hoped what I had remembered was part of a dream or maybe it wasn’t what I had thought, but there I was; in the car of someone who just confirmed he had raped me. I don’t remember the whole situation and when I said that, he got mad because I didn’t remember our “first time”. At this point, I was so lost and confused. Once more, I was the horrible girlfriend because I didn’t remember our “first time”. Now we were supposed to have sex again because we already did it once, this is all according to him. I was so afraid and against it, I didn’t want to do it. So he poured me three shots of alcohol and told me to take them so I could “loosen up” and then we could try it again to see if it “sparked any memories” from the night before. I was shaking and I knew I didn’t want to, but I was so manipulated by him and by now I thought I was the bad girlfriend for not remembering the night before. So I drank the three shots and gave in. I was crying, and through the tears, I told him I loved him. I didn’t love him but I tried to tell myself that I did so that all of this would be “okay”.
This is a picture taken the night I was raped. January 24th, 2014. (This picture was taken earlier in the night before it all happened)
My virginity was taken from me before I was ready. I had one drink and one blurry memory of him on top of me as I said “no”. That’s all I can remember. I have shared this information with very few people, I can count them on one hand. I was always too scared to share it, even during the #metoo movement… because that would make me one of “them”, another victim. I refused to believe I was raped. When it all happened I didn’t even know I had been raped. I thought rape meant a man you had never met attacks you and forces himself on you…and because my fear of getting kicked out of BYU was so big, I never reported any of my abuse.
Now I know why my ex- boyfriend always wanted me to drink; he wanted to take my virginity. Looking back there were so many times when he wanted to have sex and I would say no. I started crying when I realized why he always wanted me to drink even when he wasn’t drinking. It was because he wanted to take advantage of me and take my virginity. When I would get drunk I would still say no to having sex. So, that one drink was his form of control to get what he wanted. The pillbox… that’s the only way I could have had one drink and passed out. In my last post, I mentioned how he previously gave me Clonazepam. When you Google “mixing Clonazepam with alcohol” one of the major side effects is “memory loss”. I was raped. Raped by my boyfriend. Someone who was supposed to love me. But, that’s not love. Out of everything that happened…this was by far the hardest thing for me to deal with. Two months later my ex-said he was leaving BYU to go home for a while because he was having stomach issues and he needed to see a doctor in California (where he lived) to get it sorted out. This was my chance to leave him for good, and that’s what I did. I waited for the day he left for California and pulled the trigger. I broke up with him. By now, I felt like I had nothing to lose, I didn’t even care if he told BYU on me. And that was the last time I saw him. I was finally free. This is the last post I will EVER mention my crazy ex-boyfriend and the torturous relationship I had with him. Initially I wasn’t planning on going this far when talking about him and all of the horrible stuff that transpired…but I really felt like my experience could help someone from being in my shoes, give hope to someone who’s going through it now or even comfort to someone like me, who made it out and is still healing. Potentially helping someone else is the only reason why I let him have a part in my blog. The Aftermath: In February 2018 I began going to therapy to learn how to cope with all of the abuse and traumatic things that happened to me. Even five years later I was triggered by the horrors of my past relationship with him. I had flashbacks and scary dreams about him that didn’t seem to be going away. I’m also learning how to cope with the anger I have towards myself. Mad that I didn’t get out sooner. I have blamed myself for being so naive. Since going to therapy I have felt so.much.better. I only went for a couple months because I was able to tackle the darkness I experienced head on with no reservations. However, therapy is not a one and done deal or a “one size” fits all. Different people, with different experiences, require different kinds of care. There is no shame in seeking help. When we choose to dwell on the past and let things bring us down, they have control over us. We let them win. But I will not let him win. He has no control over me or my life anymore. I refuse to ever let him bring me down, I am not his victim. I am STRONG. I am a survivor. + + + + One in five women will be raped at some point in their lives. ONE IN FIVE. How disturbing of a statistic. If you or someone you know has been raped, get help. There are so many resources available now to help you in your time of need. I will link them below. If I can help you in any way please do not hesitate to reach out. Click HERE for PTSD Counseling Call 800.656.HOPE (4673) to be connected with a trained staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area. https://www.rainn.org/national-resources-sexual-assault-survivors-and-their-loved-ones https://www.womenshealth.gov/relationships-and-safety/signs-abuse https://greatist.com/live/sexual-assault-survivor-resources To those of you who are following my story… Thank you for all your kind words, love and support. I love and appreciate you all. -Mayci If you haven’t already, click the “follow” button below so you’ll be notified when I’ve posted and feel free to share my story with others.
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