It's that time of year again; the smell of alcohol roams the campus, and everyone is getting ready for their homecoming weekend. Friends making plans with other friends to go to the football game, bonfire, parade, etc. There are many things I regret in life, and going out with two idiots on day in January is definitely one of them. I would love to think that I am strong, independent, and able to overcome the damage they did to me. I am not. The smell of green apples, once my favorite, is a trigger: stomach aches, nausea, racing thoughts. The smell of that alcohol, and most alcohol in general, makes me physically sick and I will be induced into a panic attack. Hearing a loud car terrifies the living hell out of me. Passing a Subaru dealer, car, or hearing a conversation about them drives *pun intended* me crazy. Knowing that one of these boys lives right down the road scares me to the point I don't want to walk across the campus alone. I know I have to, and I don't want anyone to think that I am incapable of doing anything because I was raped. In class, my professor was making jokes about how date rape isn't real because your "date would not rape you." She defended herself by saying that it was a communication lesson on how words don't always mean what they appear to. No can be taken as yes, and yes, as no. Your date could definitely want to rape you; mine did. I was terrified to talk to anyone about this. My closest guy friend doesn't know because he encouraged me not to go out that night. I FAILED my boyfriend and am FAILING myself by letting this control me. I am trying my best. I am trying to use through, but these fall days have me going back to the one day, the one day that I cannot get over. The day that I was raped.
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