Time Flies...

They say time flies when your having fun, and the bad days seem to never end. I have found this well known quote to be completely way off reality. Next month will mark one year since my assault and everyday has been a living hell and yet it has flown by scarily fast. It seems like the incident happened only a few months ago. On a really bad day, the minutes seem to tick by slowly but then at the end of the day i realise its actually gone really fast. I feel like i have lost an entire year of my life. Not only have I lost myself, but i am also loosing time.

That bastard has taken away my time. Its overwhelmingly scary when you start to do a tick list of all the things that have been stolen from you, it seems impossible to take them all back. If i am honest i don't think they can be taken back.


In therapy i often discuss with my Therapist about my future, or lack of one. Last week she asked me to draw how i see myself now, and how i see myself in the future. For the how i see myself now i drew a question mark, a large black scribble of mess and a stickman dead at the bottom of the ocean, ball and chain around it's leg. Naturally my therapists interpretation was dead on (no pun intended). I know there something holding me back, something that is stopping me from moving forwards in my healing, what it is...i do not know. My therapist said once we are able to undo the chain which is holding me to the sea bed, i will slowly start to find myself again and begin to heal. She said my soul is not dead, but that it is off somewhere and slowly i will start to find it again and take back what has been taken. This is one the few times i completely disagreed with her.


I have started to realise (and i am not saying this is true for everyone) that when a trauma so huge happens to someone it is literally like it has killed them. I have had many survivors explain their trauma like 'a murder where there was no literal death'. When someone has died, there can be no resuscitation. I believe this is true with me. My soul has not simply 'gone away for a while'. It is dead, lying in the vegetation at the bottom of ocean. He killed me. I think - for me - it's not about getting back that girl i was before the rape (i'm not sure i'd even want to be that weak vulnerable naive girl anyway) it's about creating a new one. A new me. Trouble is sometimes it makes me so angry that the girl i have been for 22 years is suddenly gone along with all her hopes and dreams. Now all i have to work with is this empty shell. My therapist found this analogy interesting and could understand where i was coming from. She said 'isn't a blank canvas exciting, think of all you could create for your "new" self and the woman you could become'. Personally i think it seems like a lot of fucking hard work (excuse the curse!). 


It begs the questions:

• how do you live when you are already dead?
• how do you start over and create a new self?
• how do you know you will like the person you end up becoming?

It also makes me wonder, if rapists truly take a persons life (which i believe they do) then why on earth when it comes to our justice system do they not get given life sentences! IF they are even convicted, which there is a despicable 6.5% chance of, the average sentence is four years, meaning they are out in two years. TWO years for taking anothers life. People get more for driving offenses. The world is a f'd up place!