My boyfriend raped me last night and I feel like I deserved it.
I don’t know if this is the right place for this, but I don’t feel like I can I trust anyone in my life to express what just happened to me and how I feel about it. I suffer from depression, so I honestly feel like the loneliness, paranoia and situations I find myself in, are my fault. I had been dating my Boyfriend for a month before he raped me. Throughout this month I’ve broken up with him several times. Mainly because he expressed abusive behavior, but I was too stupid to realize it for what it really was. He’d call me very rude names, “playfully” hit me, and put me into uncomfortable positions. One day he drug me down the stairs and almost broke my arm. Ever since the first day I met him he expressed possessive behavior. He made a habit of going through my phone. It got to the point he took it from me for two hours and texted people for me when it was obvious I wanted him not to. He’d always get jealous of every male in my life. He’d make himself so angry to the point he’d hit me. It was never hard enough to do damage, but most definitely left a sting. I blame myself for all the pain I’ve caused myself. My self esteem is so low I’ll love anyone who says they love me. When I did have a tad bit of courage to leave him it was also because I actually noticed the abusive behavior. I just didn’t want to label it as that, so i’d allow him to manipulate me into thinking that things would go well every time around. It’s crazy to think that I really thought I was doing the best that I could to protect myself from heartache, when in actuality I’m a bigger joke than I already think I am.
Last night me and my boyfriend, well ex boyfriend, had just gotten over a huge falling out. I was pretty serious this time. The night before last he had disrespected me in front of his family and that’s where I drew the line. I left his house and blocked him. Yesterday morning I was woken to knocks on my door. He knocked for an hour. At one point he left and then came back for another 30 minutes of knocking until I finally let him in and I allowed him to manipulate me into being back with him.
Earlier in our relationship he told me he’d never gotten high from smoking weed. Well I told him I hadn’t smoked since I moved here so I was going to bring some to his house last night. I get to his house and everything seems to be going well, but then we smoked. At first I was comfortable with his reaction to being high for the first time. He was laughing uncontrollably and it was understandable because I vividly remember my first time being high. One thing I really remember is how honest I was, I was literally blurting out everything I felt. I also remember the whole experience.
He started to become a huge jerk. He was saying really harsh things and kept pressuring me into sex and I kept telling him no. He made me extremely uncomfortable. It was to the point I was terrified. I kept on saying no and that’s when he got mad. He got on top of me and whispered in my ear, “You always come back to me no matter what I do. Even if I rape you, you’d come back.” Then he forced my shorts down and started to pull off my underwear. He forced his penis into me, and it wouldn’t work. It was like my vagina was telling him no as well. He made a way though. Every so often he’d look at me and see the discomfort on my face but would just keep going. I laid there and cried and just couldn’t wait until it was over. At one point he got up and left the room. I tried to gather my things, but he came back too soon. I told him I didn’t want to do it again, but he didn’t care. After he finally finished he sat up and said “Good job Adrianne” in a mocking way. He seemed to be even more erratic than he was before. His comments were getting worse and worse. “You and your sister need to suck my balls, I’ll give you one and I’ll give her one”. He started crying and called all his friends saying really weird things. Even talking about killing me. I was so shocked and terrified I sent myself a “final letter” email. I wanted to get him calm so I just laid down and pretended I was sleeping so he’d get the picture that it’s time to sleep. I got him to lay down and he fell asleep. As soon as I heard him snore I made a break for it.
I feel like every second of that relationship was my fault. I was stupid and desperate enough to think that was love. To think abusing me was love. I look on TV and see so many abused women and say, “That’ll never be me”. Now I feel like someone without a soul. I don’t feel any pain. I just feel shame and disgust. That’s why I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell anyone, and why I feel like I deserved it.