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Sexually Assaulted (I think) by another man

Abuse

Ask the Therapist
Mar 4 2013, 04:08
  • Michael Newbie

    -1 +1

    I don't really know why I'm writing this. I thought it would just go away after it happened and it really didn't seem like a big deal at the time.

    I was waiting for a bus in 7-eleven. It was about 3 in the morning and I had just gotten out of the club. I remember dreading waiting the 5 hours until the next bus, but luckily the man behind the counter was really nice and let me stay even though I just bought a donut. I was sitting by the window when a scraggily looking guy came in and started walking around like he owned the place. He was fixing stuff on the shelves and closing the refrigerator. I had assumed he was homeless. After sitting on the opposite side of the bench where I was, he tried to make conversation with me. I was still tired from having walked all the way there and I was a little bummed that I was going home by myself. He then offered some drinks and I said ok. I remembered what my dad had said about how I shouldn't trust strangers blah blah blah, and I was thinking "maybe my dad was paranoid" or "people aren't that bad" or something along those lines as I usually like to try to prove my dad wrong. I know, I don't have that great a relationship with my father. So I follow this guy up an elevator into this dingy little apartment. It reminds me of a well-to-do jail cell. He has a bunch of fish bowls surrounding the room and most of them are empty. I get nervous and jokingly ask what their names are. He tells me they don't have names. He then gets out a bottle of vodka and pours one shot glass and hands it to me. I take the shot and then he asks me right away if I want another one. I find it a little strange that he doesn't pour one for himself, but I say "shure". After I take the second shot, things start to get really weird. He starts patting my head and I brush his hand away. I get a little irritated and he does it again. This time I start to sense that I may have gotten myself into a situation I didn't want to be in. I get up and start heading for the door. He then pins me against the wall and reaches for my genitals. I quickly react and push his hand and him away. I start to apologize and say "I didn't know that's what..." "I'm just not into that stuff" and then I leave. My heart is pounding I feel like I almost got hit by a bus. I leave and go back to the 7-eleven and try to forget what just happened. This was about 6 months ago and I never knew how this event would affect me.

    After this, I started my long journey of denial and self-blame that would eventually lead me to being stuck in my room all day, afraid to go outside, afraid to make any friends or talk to people I don't know, and afraid of public transportation.

    What is even more strange is that I started to justify how it was my fault that all of this happened. I wanted a sense of control so badly, that I started hating myself for what happened.

    Don't get me wrong, I hated the guy who did it for a long while. I had thoughts of going back there and killing him. I looked up directions on how to make explosives and thought of ways of planting them in his room. I thought of calling the police, but I was too embarassed. I just felt trapped and I thought that there was no way out.

    This wasn't even the worst of it. It somehow got into my head that this man was a pedophile and that because this abuse happened to me, I would become a pedophile. All of my interactions with children became a nightmare. All I could think was "they know you're a pedophile". All of my doubts about being a good father came up. I was convinced that I would never be able to have kids.

    I then thought back to that very same day that I was at the club. The reason why I was at that specific club was I had seen a few girls walk in that I was attracted to. I ended up meeting them inside and we talked and flirted and I found out it was one of their birthdays. She was turning 18. I remember I tried it on with her, but she wasn't interested. I was 22 at the time. I remembered this and felt so guilty. I thought it was some sort of karmic justice that it happened to me that day.

    Writing this journal was probably the hardest thing I've had to do. I don't know if everything has been resolved, but I've kept it in for so long that I didn't know what to do. I hope this is the end of it, because I'm tired of dealing with this shit.

    I learned some questions that I think may be of help to me or anyone dealing with this type of situation:

    1. Could I let it go?

    2. Would I let it go?

    3. When?



    Yay for self help!