My mind churns and my soul aches when I think about what really happened to me as a child. I was fifteen when Robert started raping me. I became very symptomatic… I started failing in school, I lost my friends and I rebelled at home to name a few. The raping continued and the symptoms may have worsened. Then my mother gave up trying to figure it out and abandoned me at Fork Union. There I was raped again, but something else more complicated happened. When I returned home, I was no longer symptomatic. I made a few friendships and started doing better in school. I even had a few girlfriends. But the rapes where still happening, and would continue happening for another three years. What happened to me on the inside at Fork Union? Where did the symptoms go? When did the fantasy that I liked being raped replace the reality that caused all of the symptoms? What consequences did that fantasy really have for me? There are so many unanswered questions like these. I know that the answers are going to be painful and part of me wants to stop asking them. But the greater part, the part that has been locked in an emotional prison for thirteen years, will not be quieted.
"Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself." -Mary Schmich