Friends

One of the very first things I had to deal with after I was raped was the backlash I received from my so called friends. As if being physically harmed wasn't enough, try having people you thought you could trust calling you names and telling you you asked for it. I heard the words slut, whore, bitch being hissed in my direction so many times I was beginning to believe they really truly described my character. Every time I told a friend why I disappeared to NY for an entire summer I cringed; waited to hear whose side they would choose to take. Why should HIS side even be an option? Why did people refuse to believe me?

I began thinking I really was crazy and have developed some awful trust issues since. I don't trust anyone. How could I after the way I'd been treated? First I was physically attacked, and now this? And let's face it, we can say that "sticks and stones" crap all we want, but words will ALWAYS hurt.

I started pulling away from friends who had stuck by me for the most part....I started pulling away from my family too. I didn't feel like explaining myself to people anymore and like I've already said, I trusted few people. I have to admit that some of the friendships that were destroyed were partially my fault. Note I said SOME not ALL. I took little comments personally, went after people verbally, and helped to destroy relationships I had tried so hard to keep together. Some of those people know I've taken responsibility for that and we've started to build those relationships back.

Walking around campus being harassed and tormented, though, were acts that were so unthinkable and ridiculous that I have no interest in reaching out to those people. You drove me to the brink of suicide, you made me feel alone, and you made me want to never deal with another human being again. I don't know how you can live with something like that on your conscience and have no regrets for your actions. It baffles me.

When I was in the hospital after having a complete meltdown, do you know how I was treated by someone I called one of my best friends? I was ignored, and looked at like I had some kind of disease she didn't want to contract. Another one told the roommate of my rapist where I lived, where I student taught, what car I drove. Those are two people that will never be forgiven (at this point, anyway).  You helped make my life an absolute living hell, I can never forget that.

It probably sounds like I have no friends at all, but I really do. There were some who were told about the entire situation and stuck by me the entire way. Shout out to Whitney who in my mind is a hero for making a phone call to me and also for letting me live on her couch for 2.5 weeks. She didn't have to do that. My friends who called to make sure I was ok, who lent a shoulder when I needed to cry it out, who kept me occupied so I wouldn't spend 8 hours a day staring at the wall (my favorite activity before I started getting help for my depression).....they didn't HAVE to do any of that. But they did. They did it because they are amazing individuals, they did it because they have huge hearts, and they did it because they were true friends.

I've been saying from the start that this entire thing sucks, but it has shown me who my true friends are and I will always be grateful for being able to see that. It's sad to know that I would have been there for anyone who needed me, and they couldn't bring themselves to do the same. I'm even blown away that after starting this blog last night, the friends I never told have rallied around me so quickly it makes my head spin.

If you're reading this thinking "people suck" well they do. But there are a lot of good people in the world....they're out there. They're awesome. And finding them has been worth all of the struggle.