Wow. There’s something I never thought I would ever have to think about. Firstly I never imagined having to date anyone else, how laughable really. Secondly, all of my friends are in long term relationships, buying houses, buying pets for gods sake, all of that. Then there’s me. A single mum at 26 and trying to recover from a traumatic event.
As a soon to qualified nurse (here’s hoping) I can tell you that physical trauma heals, but mental and psychological trauma, I’m not so sure, I hope so but I have my doubts, not fully.
I write this while sitting outside a coffee shop, killing time until my appointment. I’m holding back tears, it’s hardly socially acceptable to start crying hysterically in public is it, although I won’t lie, I’m guilty of doing so quite a few times in the past year.
I’ve dated since he did that to me. Stupidly and naively (remember what I said about love making you stupid as fuck?) we stayed together for seven months after he did what he did before he ended it. At first I thought my world had ended, I realise now that I was upset and angry about the rape – not about losing that abusive maggot. I had lived those months by surviving on autopilot, happy experiences with him were all tinged with anger in the background, I just didn’t allow myself to see it.
Anyway, dating since. I tell you this, readers, it’s soul destroying to meet someone that you like and get on with and the first thought that goes through your mind is: he’s a big guy, I wouldn’t be able to push him off of me. I can’t let that happen again. Alarm bells go off, doesn’t matter if you get on well, if they laugh at your terrible sense of humour, it always comes back to that one defining feature. It’s incredibly upsetting when it’s your own mind that is stopping you from being happy and finding someone decent, after being fooled by someone for so long into thinking that they are that person, am I making sense?
Recently I thought I had found that person. Dates were brilliant, hours flew past us like minutes and conversation flowed like I had known him for years. We got close and I trusted him enough to tell him about this experience I’ve had. I felt I needed to reason as to why I needed time (pathetic that I felt the need to justify). He was understanding. I was happy. The next day he laughed in my face and called me damaged goods.
That was that.
I sat with a very heavy heart. Why should I have to be labelled as the damaged goods by what happened? I obviously didn’t ask for it and I didn’t deserve it, so why do I have to be bore with that label?
I would stay single but I miss having someone. For all that he did, he for a long time was my best friend and do I miss that connection? Yes I really do. Do I feel sick for admitting that, yes I really do. For all the emotional trauma he has inflicted there is a small part of me that does miss his company, I guess that’s down to indoctrination though.
I know I sound completely mad and I need to rebuild myself, but where do I start? Where the hell do I even start.