No One Asked

You know what I have been thinking about these past few nights? I have told 6 people total that I was raped and not a single one of them asked if I was going to press charges.

Why not?

You think that if someone told you that a crime was committed against them that they would want that person to pay for what they did. But, no one asked if I was going to press charges. Or at the very least, no one asked what I was going to do about it. One of the reason I hesitated to tell anyone was because I didn’t feel like I was ready to deal with the consequences and the aftermath of what happened. But, it never came.

Why is that?

I know it’s not a subject that people want to talk about, believe me. And I know it’s hard to know what I want at times, believe me. It changes constantly. But, why is it okay that I could tell you that I was violated in the worst way possible and your best response is “Fuck that guy” and not “Let’s go after that guy and make him pay for what he did!” Now, I am not saying that that is what I want to do, by any means. The thought did cross my mind, but as quick as it came it left. But, at the very least, why didn’t anyone bring it up? How come they were just so accepting of what happened and so giving of their apologies and condolences? This is not okay. I am not okay, and a ‘no one should ever have to deal with this’ just doesn’t suffice anymore.

What’s wrong with America?

Why is okay that women can be attacked feel that they should just stay silent about it? Why is it okay that I had no control over what happened to my body and there’s still nothing I can do about it? Why is this okay? WHY IS IT OKAY!? It’s not. And it shouldn’t be.

Why am I accepting this? Why do I have to be the one who suffers and he can just go on and live his life like normal? There are absolutely no repercussions for him and that’s my fault. I am the one that’s letting him get away with this. I am the one that’s too afraid of what everyone else would think about me that I can’t even face facts and let the world know that he’s an awful person. But, is he? Or is just what he did awful? And maybe that’s also something that is holding me back. Maybe the fact that I am still separating what he did, from who he is, is what’s holding me back. But, should I be? Is that the right thing to do? Are the two separate?

I don’t want to feel like I am still doing the wrong thing, by not reporting it. But, what’s the point really? There’s no more physical evidence. There’s nothing left, expect for ‘he said, she said’. So, at this point, is it really worth it? By me containing the situation, I am containing the reactions of others. I am able to limit the amount of lives that this affects. Including my therapist, as of right now it’s only 8. (The irony is that’s my favorite number). Maybe, I should just leave it at that. I should just drop the entire situation and try to move on with my life, sicne I can’t do anything to change what happened. But, I can change how I react to it.

I am tired of reacting to it. I am tired of dealing with it. I am tired of feeling helpless. I am tired of worrying about this. I am tired of creating ways to make myself miserable. I am just so tired. I want to live my life, the way it was supposed to be, but I can’t anymore because this is now apart of it.

This was never supposed to be apart of my story and now that it is, I don’t know how to cope. I don’t know how to live without constantly thinking about it, about him, and about how this has and is consuming my life. At times, I feel like if I don’t think about it, or a I don’t talk about it, then maybe it never happened. Maybe, I was just overreacting. I don’t know how I am supposed to respond to this. I don’t know what I am supposed to do. And whatever it is, I don’t think that I am doing it right. I have become to consumed by this.

In fact, I feel as if I am living two separate lives. Perhaps three.

  1. The life that my family believes that I am living: Happy, healthy, working, and applying to school.
  2. The life my friends think I am living: Happy enough for the most part, healthy enough for the most part, and applying to school.
  3. The life that I think I am living: Happy for a moment and miserable the next, healthy enough at this moment, but I was healthier before and could be doing better, and applying to school.

As much as a I am dreading grad school homework. I am actually genuinely excited about it. It’s one of the few life goals that I have right now that I am still happy about. I feel like it’s the only thing that I have done/ am doing for me. Yes, I am a consultant, but my sister helped me start with that. Granted, I have earned my own keep since, but it wouldn’t have been possible without her. And trust me, she doesn’t let me forget it.

Grad school is something that will prove my worth. It is something that will make this whole thing worth it. It’s a way for me to prove to myself and to everyone else, that I am actually good at what I do.

I am actually really good at what I do.

Contrary to how it seems with me barely holding it together at times, I am very good that the things that I put my mind to. I just have felt that in the recent past, people don’t seem to believe that. And maybe it’s because I continue to do things for other people and they don’t seem to understand/recognize my worth. But, I am a damn good person, friend, and educator.

Why isn’t that enough? Why do I have to keep proving that? Or maybe I don’t, but it sure as hell feels like I do. Grad school applications are basically you selling yourself and saying that schools should pick you over other people. I am so tired of proving my worth. I am so tired of continually saying that I am good enough to be here.

I am good enough to be here.

Other people believe it, why can’t I?

I just want to move on, but I feel like I’m stuck.

Help,

Alexandria.

Edit: I take that back. One person did. The first person I told. She did ask. But, only her.

Advice

When it comes to giving advice, I am pretty darn good at it. When it comes to taking my own advice or taking advice from someone else, it’s as if I have lost all common sense.

I am taking the GRE again for the second time next week. The first time I took it was in October of 2015. I had six weeks to study and I used my time fairly wisely. I did the practice questions, practice exams, I learned some new words. ( I don’t remember what any of them are now, but I know I learned new ones for the test.) I even signed up for a online study guide course. I took it seriously, well as seriously as I could, why, because it’s important, and also because I was scared.

I didn’t want to door poorly, I mean these are subject matters that you learn in high school, I should know it right? Plus, my graduate career depends on this test that has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with what I want to study and my future career goals.

Small rant: The GRE is a complete waste of time, it’s something that you 1. Shouldn’t have to take at all, or 2. Should take right after high school considering it lasts for five years and it’s everything you learned in like the 10th grade. I hate it with a passion. In fact, I hate all standardized test, because I don’t test well and it’s not really showing what you know, but what you can memorize and how well you can take a test.

Going through this process has made me feel inadequate. I feel as if I am not smart enough to get accepted. Which is partly why it has taken me so long to apply. My fear of rejection has quadrupled since I started preparing for this graduate school application. Questions flood my mind on a daily basis. “What if you don’t do well on the GRE?” “What if your GPA isn’t high enough?” “What if they don’t like your Goals Statement?” “What if you simply just don’t get in?” “What then?” “What will you do?”

Now, see if this was anyone else coming to me saying all of these things, I would just reinforce how smart they actually are. I would let them know that you graduated from a Top 20 school, you can do anything. I would tell them that as hard as it is right now, once you get in you will know that it was all worth it. I would also let them know something that one of my friends in middle school told me, “Keep saying it’s not easy and it will keep getting harder.” And then I will throw some clich├ęs in there like, “Don’t let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game” and “You got this, I believe in you.” Blah Blah Blah.

See, these are the things I already know about myself. These are the things that I would expect someone to say to me. But, still these are the things that are of no value when you don’t feel as if you are capable of succeeding in a world where most people are destined to fail. I don’t know. Maybe I am just overreacting, maybe I am going to take this week to study my butt off and do better than I did the first time, because now I want it more. And maybe when I submit my application I will receive an acceptance letter no questions asked.

Or maybe not.

Alex.

Here I Am

Someone once told me that I should write down all my feelings in order to get through them. That same person also told me that he couldn’t be the person that I wanted him to be. But, hey. That’s neither here nor there. I will save that story for another day.

I used to keep a diary a child, I mean what middle school girl didn’t. It wasn’t a regular diary though, you know one with a lock and key, no it was a five subject spiral notebook, college ruled, with pockets, and I filled every single page up front a back.

It was my baby, it was my everything, because it literally had ever single thought that crossed my mind in middle school and early high school in it.

It helped me to get through some tough times and it helped me to relive that great times. I wrote in pen because everything that happened to me was permanent. No take backs, no do overs.

I miss that journal, diary, whatever. Every few years I will take it out from under my bed and read about just how messed up I used to be. Not saying that I am completely fine now, although I would like to think I have gotten better. Contrary to my own beliefs.

Back then, a lot was going on with me, family drama, friend drama, cancer, cutting, weight issues, you name it. Typical teenage girl angst living in America. So writing was my outlet, it was my way of telling my imaginary audience, who sometimes I couldn’t even pay to listen, that no matter how bad it got I wasn’t giving up but instead looking for help.

I looked for help in so many places and with so many people. And I would like to tell you that movie story ending where all I had to do was look within and the help was with me all along, but truth is, that hasn’t happened. At least, not yet. I’m still holding out hope though.

So, I decided to start writing a blog again for three reasons. 1. I missed it, I missed having the time to just write how I feel and talk to myself without the judgement of others. 2. I’m feeling pretty overwhelmed with a few things that are happening in my life right now and I wanted to find a good way to relieve that stress. 3. I am hoping that this blog becomes famous and I get a book deal out of this. (Obviously the most important one)

Just so you know, the things I write are completely my own. This is my life and I don’t expect it to be perfect and neither should you. I would love to hear your feedback and constructive criticism. But, do keep in mind. I am human, so my feelings do get hurt from time to time. But, I am also stronger than you think.

Wow, I forgot how good it was to actually journal. I missed it so much. Hopefully, I’ll keep it up. And hopefully you’ll keep reading.

Goodbye & Goodnight,

Alexandria