Warning: This post MIGHT be triggering to some of you, so please don’t read it, if you easily get triggered. i’m not glorifying Self Harm or Eating Disorders by any means! If you are suffering from mental health problems, please seek help! It’s important to reach out and talk about it to someone you trust. Don’t make the same mistakes i made and still am making because life can be so much more!
Whoever reads this: You are worth living a happy, healthy life and life CAN get better if you reach out to the right people and get help!!
It is pretty hard for me writing about the sexual assault i had to experience in 2012. That’s why i haven’t included it in my PTSD Blog-Post…
In this Post i will mention the abuse by my grandfather again but i will also talk about what happened to me in 2012. Bear with me because trying to find the right words simply won’t be easy for me.
In the United States, the definition of sexual assault varies widely between the individual states. This is because there is no federal rape or sexual assault laws in the United States due to the supreme court ruling of United States v. Morrison which ruled that the Violence Against Women Act The Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network defines sexual assault as “unwanted sexual contact that stops short of rape or attempted rape. This includes sexual touching and fondling.”
The National Center for Victims of Crime states:
“Sexual assault takes many forms including attacks such as rape or attempted rape, as well as any unwanted sexual contact or threats. Usually a sexual assault occurs when someone touches any part of another person’s body in a sexual way, even through clothes, without that person’s consent.”
To get over with it let’s start with 2012 instead of my encounter with my grandfather…
i was going through a lot at that time because my husband (we got married in August 2011) all of a sudden told me that he didn’t love me as a husband should. So from one day to the other he left me. Looooong story…
He was the love of my life and it broke my heart, my soul (that’s at least what i felt back then). Once again i failed, couldn’t give a person what he/she needed, was left. Unfortunately my beloved Dad-In-Law was terminally ill at this point and it was just a matter of time until he would leave us. i loved him like he was my real Dad and i know he loved me like i was his real daughter.
After i managed to survive the first couple of months (barely), i decided i needed to do something good for myself. i planned on taking a trip to Ireland (i LOVE LOVE LOVE Ireland!). It would be my first time there, only a short trip because of work and money shortage. So i booked everything and eventually it was time to get to the airport.
When it was time for boarding i went last in line and in front of me was a big guy who seemed friendly and we started a small-talk. He arranged that he could sit next to me in the plane. (alarm bells: take one… action) So i sat next to him and he wanted me to sit in the middle so he could have the aisle seat (alarm bells: take two… action). Since i’m pretty daft, to put it nicely, i got out my booking confirmation where it had the name and address of my hotel as well as my name and cell-phone number on it… i just wanted to check again where i’d be staying and if i had everything with me. i noticed that the guy was writing done something (alarm bells: take three… action)
Now comes the part i dread to write about – i’m already sitting in front of my screen for about an hour trying to figure out how to describe what happened next and to stop blaming myself. trying to stop myself from starting to cry as i re-live the whole flight.
i wasn’t raped but i know that if he would have had the chance to rape me he would have done so…
another ten minutes of staring and trying to hold myself together
He started telling me that he fell in love with me and that i was his dream-woman and that he could give me anything i wanted…
He started touching me – i was trapped sitting in the middle, he had the aisle seat and the window seat was occupied with a teenage girl from Canada – he would give me a massage. He would tell me that he could give me a proper one if we’d meet the next day. He would start touching my breasts, my arms, my legs, my face and i would keep telling to stop. He wouldn’t listen just saying “Not touching”. He would try to kiss my lips – thank-goodness i was quick enough to turn my face enough so that he just kissed my cheek. He would kiss my ear and nibble at the tip of my ear. No matter how often i told him to stop, he would carry on. i was scared, i didn’t dare to yell for help or get loud because i felt so trapped sitting next to that massive bloke and i didn’t dare to get up either because i would have given him the opportunity to touch my backside… i turned to the girl and mouthed “help me” – poor girl of course wasn’t able to do anything and mouthed back “i don’t know how, i’m sorry” i could feel she would have loved to help me but regarding that was scared like me. i started talking to her and tried to ignore that blokes touches. Thankfully the flight only took about two hours but those two hours felt like an eternity. After the plane landed i grabbed my stuff and with the girl and her group quickly left the plane before him. At the Passport control i met him again but he was behind me and i avoided talking to him much. i ran past the baggage claim, to the restrooms and started cleaning myself but i held myself together and didn’t cry. i stayed in for almost ten minutes, scrubbed my hands, face and my ear. i was feeling so horribly sick. After i went out of the restroom i hid behind a pillar and checked whether he was still there. i couldn’t see him but i saw my suitcase, grabbed it and quickly ran to the bus into town (which was thankfully already there)
When i arrived at the hotel i talked to the staff there and told him about the creepy guy at the plane and that i suspected him knowing where i’d stay and asked them that if ANY guy ask for me to tell him that i wasn’t staying at that hotel. They would give me an update every-time i returned to the hotel. The incident partly ruined my since i didn’t dare to stay out after dark (which meant being back at hotel by at least 5pm), not going into pubs because i was scared to meet him there. i only did tourist things (which he wouldn’t do since he lived in Dublin). Unfortunately i was right about him writing down my personal informations since i received a textmessage from him the next day asking me if i wanted to meet. That’s the only time i responded to him, by telling him that i wasn’t in Dublin anymore but staying with a friend a few hours away for the next few days.
i was more aware of my surroundings than ever before and that made it a tad harder to enjoy my trip, which was supposed to be a healing trip and something very special since for years i wanted to visit Dublin…
i should have informed the police but i was scared for multiple reasons. First of all i felt guilty, ashamed and dirty because i let it all happen, because i didn’t ask a flight-attendant for help, because i didn’t get loud. Because i was dumb enough to give him a chance to gather personal information from me. Secondly i didn’t know where to go and didn’t want to spend the four short days at a police station (VERY DUMB REASON!).
When i was back home i told a friend (who happens to be a flight-attendant) and advised me to talk to Pro-Familia which here in Germany helps with lots of things regarding Sexuality. i always thought highly of them but that changed, when i called. They made me feel like it was totally my fault and asked me why i haven’t been asking for help. i tried to explain but they said that i should go see a therapist to learn how to not get myself in a situation like this again. Well i blamed and still blame myself enough already so you can imagine that this call didn’t help. i talked to my therapist about that instead (without too many details though) and he was understanding and tried to help a little but i couldn’t open up so i never really dealt with it and still have flashbacks among other things. It also didn’t help that he stalked me for about six months over the phone (due to various reasons i couldn’t just change my number). Eventually he stopped but it was a tough time because every-time he wrote everything came back…
You will probably say that wasn’t sexual assault but you haven’t been there with me, you haven’t seen what he was doing to me and how intense it all was… So please don’t judge me or the whole situation…
In my post about PTSD i already talked about my childhood experience and i simply can’t continue writing at the moment, so if you haven’t read it yet, please check out my PTSD post.
After about 4 hours i’m finally done writing this post and i’m beyond good and evil at the moment. i will most likely distract myself now with music and chatting so that i don’t have to deal with my emotions anymore…
i’m not going to proof-read this post so if there are errors in it please accept my apologies!