To whoever is reading this.
2 years ago today. February 14th 2013.
I tried to to kill myself for the second time in nearly 2 weeks. Weeks of pain and betrayal, inability to function day in and out and the fear that my rapist would continue to haunt me for the rest of the life are only a few of the reasons I can logically tell you I took that bottle of pills and prayed I would never see the world again.
2 years ago I would never have imagined where I would be now. My pain is my strength. I am no longer a victim of the harm that others have done to me or I do to myself. I am not just a survivor. I’m a warrior. Because when I woke up 2 years ago from my intentional OD, I knew that there must be a reason I’m still here…I will survive the worst days of my life.
and I did. I survived attending classes with my rapist, an unapologetic college administration, corrupt sex crimes detectives, loss of my so called friends and putting myself back together after a nearly 6 month long detox from benzodiazopine dependence. I went public with my story and help bring attention to sexual assault on campus.
I still suffer from PTSD and nightmares. Disassociation is by far one of the worst conditions I still experience. Sometimes I even feel suicidal when I’m overwhelmed. But the feelings pass. They always do.
Today I continue to fight to end campus assault. But more than anything, I fight for me and others like me– who have been branded as “broken” victims of crime incapable of ever having a voice. We are here. We have stories to tell and we’re making change happen.