Vernon Blvd

I woke up this morning. As usual, I took my dog out, put the kettle on for a cup of tea, and then sat down at my desk to complete some school work. When I sat down, I all of a sudden became overwhelmed with emotions and flashbacks to January of 2020. This happens frequently in my life as such is the same for most PTSD patients. We get random flashbacks and thoughts of our trauma. Sometimes there are triggers, other times our brains just like to remind us of why we are the way we are. It is a cruel trick, in my opinion, but can also spark some creativity.

I haven't wrote on here in over two years. My work is mostly music reviews, so this is entirely out of my comfort zone. However, I felt it was important to write down my thoughts and feelings relating to what happened in January of 2020 for myself personally and also to create more advocacy for sexual assault victims and stalking. It is important that we teach others what to look out for and to also share that there is help available. You are not alone.

TW: sexual assault, rape, stalking. Please read with caution.

I was a freshman in college. My first semester had already been a shit show. I was in a major I hated, I had no friends, my boyfriend of two years broke up with me. I was having a hard time adjusting to this new life on my own. To ease the pain and loneliness I felt, I abused pain killers hard core-literally to the point that I would pass out on my dorm floor for hours. On top of my painkiller addiction, I sought out to destroy myself by advertising my low self-worth on Tinder. Tinder helped me meet many guy friends that I still talk to this day, but also opened up an avenue for some very sketchy people to enter my life. I met up with guys I barely knew just for drugs and some sort of self validation. I never slept with any of these guys, I just let them think they could have me as I mooched off more and more drugs from them. I was in a very, very, low spot. All of high school I was a good student, a good daughter (I never got in trouble, snuck out, or anything). I was becoming everything I hated.

At the end of 2019, I decided to take a social media break. It was around Christmas and I just wanted to spend time with my family without the added stress of social media buzz on my brain. I posted my cell phone number on my Snapchat as a way for people to contact me. This was my first mistake. The main antagonist of this story enters here. I got a message one day saying, "Hey this is _____ , I saw your number on snapchat and wanted to make sure you were okay."

Me: "Oh, hey! Thanks for checking in. I'm alright."

Wow, this guy seems like he genuinely cares about me! Who would've thought....

We talked for a few weeks. He was kind, smart, and had a way with words I had never seen before. He was a fantasy writer. He played dungeons and dragons and smoked pot. Added bonus: he looked like a young Johnny Depp. Holy shit, I was hooked. |

Things became more serious as the weeks went on. One day I was shopping at a Salvation Army with my roommate when he texted me,

Him: "Hey, so I booked a hotel in your town and I'm going to come visit you this weekend."

My anxiety increased. Was I ready to meet this guy? I was scared and excited all at the same time. He gave me virtually no days to prepare, but I was ready. For the first time in months, I felt interested in a guy and maybe just maybe wanted a relationship.

The day came. I put on my cutest outfit and walked out of my dorm room building to see...uh....a short little guy in a leather jacket standing outside of a red prius? Oh no, this was NOT the guy I was talking to. Be polite. I gave him a hug and got in his car. We talked for a little bit and drove around. From the second I was in his presence, however, the vibes were incredibly off. I should've listened to my gut, but I decided to give him a chance.

That night, I stayed in his hotel room. I remember I could see my college out of the room window and thinking, "I wish I was there right now." I should've been enjoying myself. I should've been feeling safe and comfortable, but my stomach was in knots and my anxiety never settled. I felt wrong.

We became official, as in "Facebook official". He went back to his hometown which was about an hour away and I went back to focusing on school. In the back of my head I thought that maybe he was just awkward and we would have time to get more comfortable with each other. Therefore, I dismissed my feelings of anxiety and unease quickly. I remember I sent him a picture of the Nintendo store in NYC and I said, "I wanna go." This wasn't anything serious, but he took it very serious. Before I knew it, he had booked us a hotel in the big apple for a weekend and I was panicked. I remember telling him "I just want to stay in town this weekend and hang out with my friends." He said, "But I never get to see you!" I felt bad. Maybe he was right.

On our three hour drive to NYC, he told me that he only had $200 to his name. Previously, he had bragged to me about how much money he made at his job and he would "take care of me". I immediately thought, "Okay, let's turn around and go back." But, I knew this wasn't happening. We made it to the city and our hotel. I had to forfeit $150 of my own money (which was pretty much all of my money), so we could afford to park at the hotel. This didn't feel right. I didn't feel safe.

The next morning, we went out to explore the city. Everything was relatively okay. We went to time square, I got to go to the Nintendo store, we went to central park. I was more interested in sight seeing this ginormous city than spending time with him. This may sound selfish of me, but this is how I felt. A small part of me wished I was alone or at least with people I felt comfortable around. We had only explored the city for a few hours when it started to snow hard. We went back to our hotel and relaxed for a little bit. This is where my brain starts to get foggy, so bare with me.

Even though I was cold, I felt like I was running a fever. I had barely ate anything simply because we had no money to eat. I was tired from walking so much and my head was pounding. I made myself a shitty cup of coffee complimentary of the hotel and tried to relax. Before I knew it, it was dark out. I felt like my whole day in the city had been wasted. I was sad, tired, sick, and just feeling like shit.

Half-asleep. Groggy. I felt a weight climb on top of me. I then felt lips on mine and hips grinding. I barely had time to comprehend what was happening but went along with it anyways because I didn't know what to do. From this point, I have no memory of what happened. I do, however, remember feeling sick to my stomach even more so than before.

I took a very long and hot shower. I cried and I asked myself, "Why the fuck are you crying? Nothing happened." But, I felt like something did. My body was violated. I was scared and alone. I had no one nearby to call and rescue me. I was trapped in this big city with a man who made me feel uneasy. No words can describe how disgusting I felt that night and the next. I remember looking out the window to see the city skyline and planning ways to run away. I thought, maybe I could sneak away when he was asleep and tell the front desk people I needed help. I quickly dismissed this because I felt no one would believe me or help me. What could they do? I didn't even know what happened. Was I supposed to just tell them I felt "gross"? I had to accept that I needed to just stay strong and make it until he brought me back to my college.

My body shut down. When I got back to my dorm, my friends asked me if I had a good time. I lied with a smile on my face, "yeah! it was great.". I knew this was a lie. But, I went along with it anyways. My "boyfriend" sent me a series of nasty texts after NYC.

"I can make you c** in minutes without even using my meat stick."

"I want to impregnate you and have like 100 babies with you."

God. I feel like I'm going to puke even writing those.

I confided in my two closest friends about how I didn't want to be with him anymore. I didn't go into details why, I just said "Oh, you know, I don't think he's the right guy for me." My friends, who I am so grateful for, helped me call him and break up with him. He didn't say much. He sounded confused and shocked which I guess is a normal response. I felt like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders, but I still felt uneasy and panicked. He sent some long text messages that were basically stating how he felt I was making a wrong choice, blah blah blah. I quickly blocked him from messaging and calling simply because I didn't want to hear it. He knew I did this and went to Facebook messenger to continue to verbally harass me.

"Why don't you love me?"

"I thought we were going to get married and have babies together."

I blocked him on there soon after.

I went on my laptop the next day to do some homework. When I logged on, I thought my ten year old MacBook was about to have an aneurysm and die due to the amount of text messages and missed calls I had. I thought, "who was trying so hard to reach me?" Then, I realized, that my computer did not register that I had blocked this man on my phone, therefore, the messages were still being received on there. I thought I was going to have a panic attack. I called my parents, the only thing I thought of to do. They had no idea that I had broken up with him and all of this had occurred. I basically just told them that we broke up and he had been stalking me through text/phone and social media. They were supportive of my decisions to block him, but as far as the stalking went we had no idea how to handle it.

I blocked him on my laptop as well. I remember searching, "How to get a restraining order in New York State" soon after. Unfortunately, I never went through with it because I felt I didn't have enough sufficient evidence to have any cause for one. Therefore, I just went on with my life.

Nightmares soon began. Nightmares where he broke into my dorm room and kidnapped me. Nightmares where I was back in that hotel room in NYC with no escape. Nightmares, nightmares, nightmares. I told my roommate, "I think this fucked me up."

I never kept my dorm room locked. This was mostly because my roommate lost her key and kept getting locked out. However, I made sure to lock the door whenever I was alone and I helped my roommate find her key so we could keep it locked. I kept checking the windows to make sure no one could open them. I wanted to do everything I could to feel safe, but I still felt scared. Scared to be in public. Scared to be with someone new. Scared of life.

About a month and a half later, I started dating my now fiancé. We were friends for a while. She was even sort of there when this incident happened. She helped me through a lot of my initial anxiety and encouraged me to get help from a therapist. My therapist, who I owe a lot to, diagnosed me with PTSD and helped me sort through what happened and my fears. She was life-changing for me.

It's been almost two years. Men with shaggy dark hair make me uncomfortable. Red priuses give me anxiety. I have never returned to NYC, but I plan to one day in order to create new memories in a place that has been ruined for me. My nightmares come and go. I have experienced flashbacks that are so raw and real, I feel like I'm back there.

I started reading a book called "The Body Keeps the Score", by psychologist Bessel A. Van der Kolk. In this book, a quote always sticks out to me.

"It takes enormous trust and courage to allow yourself to remember."

After this happened, I didn't want to remember. I wanted to shut it away in the deepest parts of my brain and forget it happened. But, it did happen. It has made me who I am today. I can't be angry that it happened because if it didn't happen I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be here with my dog cuddled by my feet, a fiancé who loves me for everything that I am, and great friends who support me no matter what.

When the memories don't sting as bad anymore, take time to write out what happened. Get your story out. Promote advocacy. We can't change what happened, but we can change how we view it and write our own story.