“Road to Recovery” its a phrase often heard by addicts and victims. But what does it really mean? For the past year I've been a victim and I’ve been assigned to walk down this road. But I want to make one thing clear: I didn’t sign up for this road. This road is bumpy and smooth, covered by beautiful flowers and overgrown by weeds. I see people pushing their broken down cars, while others in Teslas drive by. I don’t like this road, I don’t like how it changes without my permission. I didn’t sign up for this road. But even though it’s fucking messy, and confusing, and unpredictable in some of the worst ways; I cannot deny that this road is also breathtaking and fucking beautiful beyond words.
I haven't said these words in awhile: one year ago, I was sexually assaulted.
Its been one year, one year since I found myself at the start of this road with nothing in hand and a perspective on the world that made me want to run. At the beginning of the road I was alone, with nothing, I mean absolutely nothing. I didn’t even have myself, I was just a shell of someone that used to exist. How are you supposed to continue down a road that you know nothing about? I didn’t choose this road, I had my own road, with my familiar people along it, familiar rest stops, bumps that I could see and plan for, and miles and miles of smooth sailing. But 366 days ago, that road was washed away but an unforeseen tsunami of fucking hell and there I was at the beginning of this new road, the “Road to Recovery”.
The first part of the road was the hardest, the first four days were some of the worst. I was confused, and scared, and lost. I didn’t know how to feel or how to act. I didn’t want to be left alone, but I also didn’t want to be around a lot of people. I didn’t want to have to explain myself. I didn’t want to pretend to be happy, I didn’t want to pretend to be sad. So I decided to take all my feelings and write them down. I couldn’t put into exact words how I felt in those first few days but heres what I came up with when I tired:
Four days. Four days since my world was turned upside down. Four days since my life was altered by someone else’s actions, actions that were out of my control, but have still had the ability to make me feel responsible. Four days since my mind, body, and soul were violated. Four days of self blaming. Four days of “what-ifs.” Four days of questioning who I will become and what will become of this. Four days of detaching myself from the situation. Four days of defense mechanisms. Four days of him thinking he’s gotten away with this. Four days of trying to be normal in an abnormal situation. Four days of wanting it to be five days ago.
I’m here to tell you that if four days ago you were to ask me if I was fight or flight, I would have, without hesitation, said fight. I’m a fighter, I. Am. A. Fighter. I am a New York girl who don’t take no shit. But four days ago, I froze. I didn’t fight back, I didn’t protect myself. I just froze, and for me that’s the hardest part. My entire world was altered in a matter of minutes and I did nothing to stop it. Are you really understanding how that makes me feel? I’m not afraid of the situation, I’m afraid of myself. I’m afraid because I feel like I actually don’t know the one person in the world I was supposed to know the most: myself. Who are you if you don’t know yourself?
To almost everyone else in the world, September 8th, 2017 means nothing. To them, it's just another day, but for me, its the most meaningful day of my existence. It’s the day that I lost a piece of myself to someone else. I wish that I could sit here and tell you that those words I wrote one year ago don’t resinate with me anymore. I wish I could reassure you that I wont feel a small part of that hurt my whole life; but you and I both know I cant do that. That night he stole a piece of my innocence, and thats something I'm going to have to live with for the rest of my life. I try not to think about it too much but every once in awhile it will manifest on my Road to Recovery; maybe in the form of a small pothole or something larger, like a 5 car pile up. But each day I just have to take it inch by inch, step by step, mile by mile.
On the worst of days I simply look down at my left wrist to see the Lotus flower carved into my skin, which reminds me that just like this intriguing flower I too can rise from the muck each day leaves behind and bloom into a beautiful and breathtaking flower at the start of a new day. Just like the Lotus I too shock others, as well as myself “…with [my] ability to dip into the grime and revive [myself] unscathed—an incredible daily cycle of life, death, and a sudden immaculate rebirth that can only be described as spiritual”. We both have the “…fascinating will to live and refusal to accept defeat” (Robinson, 2017). I, like the Lotus flower take every day as a gift, as something new to explore and cherish. As I said before, I didn’t choose this Road to Recovery but you bet your ass I’ve littered it with Lotus flowers along the way.
I am in a way better place than I was in those first four days, but its still fucking hard. I still think about it more than I care to admit. I still have nightmares that paralyze me, I still cry in the middle of the day, I still think that people I don’t know want to hurt. I made a decision, one of the hardest obstacles I’ve faced on my Road to Recovery yet, and I swallowed my pride and deiced to go to therapy. I don’t ask for help, ever, but let me tell you that this was the best decision I have ever made. Therapy has given me the tools I need to mend the broken parts that have manifested in the form of potholes, while simultaneously appreciating the beautiful Lotus flowers that bloom each morning. My road is littered with PTSD, nightmares, emotional breakdowns, and bad days. But it is also flooded with belly churning laughs, smiles as big as the sun, adventures, and some of the brightest days.
Today marks one year. A lot can change in a year, a lot of myself has changed in one year. I've changed more in this one year than I think I will change in all my years to come. I've cried more, laughed more, yelled more, been myself less, and been myself more than ever before. I've asked and received therapy, talked to more people about what happened to me than I ever thought I would. This situation crushed me but its also brought me back to life. But the thing that I have come to realize the most, is that I wouldn't be here without the amazing support system that I have. So thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Whether you traveled down the Road to Recovery with me, or if you just stopped along the way to say hi; I am grateful and I hope you know that you have helped make this Road to Recovery a whole lot easier. I owe everything to you and cheers to the year to come.
One year ago, I let that night define me. Today, I am not that night.