That informative, 'I know everything' voice. Ringing in my ears for half an hour now, telling me over and over again about how everyone's out to get you and how you'll fight it tooth and nail. And I think about how I used to fight too, and how the one time I should have been fighting I just cowered. Like a fool.
My taxi driver telling me that the phone companies are ripping him off, because he did an online IQ test, and entered his phone number for the result and was charged stupid amounts. I wanted to tell him that taking an online IQ test proves you're a fucking idiot, but I'd been raped not two hours earlier, and I didn't want to invite more violence into my life. I was afraid. Ashamed. My pride and ego wounded. Not to mention my body. I hurt all over. I just want to be home, sit in the shower and cry.
And I'm a hypocrite too. If it happened to you I'd tell you that it wasn't your fault, that there's nothing to be ashamed of and that we'd get the bastard. But there I was, holding it in and telling my mother 'no, everything's fine' and that I just want to sleep. Glossed over the details with my best friends. I'm supposed to be the strong, assertive one. I couldn't have them see that I was just as stupid I pretended not to be. And, it is stupid. Because it <i>was</i> my fault, and I <i>am</i> ashamed, and I could have stopped it and the next day instead of going to the police or to a centre I fretted over how to politely tell him never to contact me again. You know, because it's so important that your rapist doesn't think you're a bitch. I hate myself.
I went to work. Smiled. Did my job. Tried not to blink because every time I closed my eyes I couldn't breathe; an overwhelming pressure holding my chest to my spine, my brain screaming at me to say stop, to yell for help, and then another part trying to soothe me still, an evil little voice telling me it would be over soon enough and I could walk away. It's just sex, after all. Happens all the time. Saw a movie with friends. Laughed, enjoyed it. It was a good film. Nothing's really changed.
But I don't know how to define that 'nothing' is actually 'everything'. I'm not the person I thought I was. And to top it all off, I think some of my friends don't like me anymore for unrelated reasons and all I want to do is scream and cry and be held and told that it's good that this happened, because I will never be a victim again, never.
All I can think is; how could I have let this happen? Why can I fight so passionately when I am not involved at all, but when it comes to myself I am lost? That evil little poison again, creeping around my senses, telling me that it's for the best. That I deserved this. Better me than somebody else. I'm filthy; there's not enough soap in the world to clean this mess. I didn't want to say anything at all. But secrets rot you inside; I had to get it out. Please don't think any differently of me.
So yeah. That's why I've been weird lately. Don't say anything. Let me pretend everything's fine.