SECOND (DATE) RAPE

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic


OCTOBER 2013 
 
Honestly, I’ll admit that some details have become fuzzy, as I type this so many years later, and I’m glad. 
 
Zeus was so floppy and cute. I kept his picture taken with me that I put on Facebook. Seth was slimy and pushy. I did not keep those photos.  
 
After awhile during this encounter at his apartment, I agreed to have sex, and I’m not saying he did anything wrong at this point, let me make that clear, but I only said yes because of an issue with not being able to say no. It’s a sexual abuse thing. Can’t say yes and can’t say no at times - currently I am prude again. I hardly knew Seth and we already were not hitting it off on my end, but we headed to his bedroom anyway. 
 
Firstly, even on the couch, he kept letting his dog Zeus, a big white doodle, get too frisky with me. I love dogs, but he encouraged the dog trying to lick me in certain places. I was getting so annoyed with his childish actions, as I tossed and turned, away from Zeus. I would chalk a lot up to being “childish.”
 
Eventually, during intercourse, Seth did something I did not approve of - during doggie style, he took it out and before I knew it, it was in my butt. I yelled at him and he did not comply with my demands, at first, but finally he took it out of my anus. I wanted to stop everything, because it was a last straw for me. He would not stop everything and proceeded with intercourse, though, and I admit, I didn’t fight hard enough. Sure I’ve had anal sex a couple times before, but on my terms, when welcomed, etc. 
 
Afterwards, Seth would not let me leave the bedroom. I recall hiding under the covers in the upper left corner of the bed, against the wall. But he would NOT just leave me alone. He pulled the covers off of me and was just poking at me and annoying me. 
 
At one point, he stood at the end of the bed, grabbed my ankles, and pulled me straight off the bed and onto the floor. Onto my back. This especially pissed me off, having bad fibromyalgia at the time. 
 
I lied there on the floor, on my back, and he lied down the same way next to me. All I could think about was how I could run to the kitchen, grab a knife for self-defense, and run away. 
 
Honestly, I do not recall exactly when or how he finally just let me go. After I got home, I blocked him on my phone and on social media. He tried badmouthing me to guys on social media, so I unblocked him temporarily to tell him off and call him a rapist (it felt so good to say it) and then block him again, that was it. 
 
After my second suicide attempt in August 2018, I admitted to the second (date) rape happening. Deja vu all around. It’s sad it had to go down like that again; however, that’s one reason I stupidly chose not to speak up. I felt guilty being a victim yet again. I felt guilty for saying yes to sex and then saying no. I then felt guilty for not fighting hard enough, like not just hitting him or something, I know it’s in me. 
 
Believe me when I say, though, IT. IS. NEVER. ABOUT. YOU.  Typical victim mentality, to go through your head about what you did wrong to cause this, deserve this, and to why you can’t speak up and punish these jerks. Once you become a survivor, you get it. This would not be the last time I felt like a victim, repulsed by sexual acts to me… I truly chose and dated the wrong guys, while running that same year for 8 years now from possibly a good one, go figure. I trust everyone too easily, then I was afraid to trust the right one? We’ll see. I’m open now, open is a good feeling! 


Submitted: October 22, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Jenni Littzi. All rights reserved.

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HJ FURL

Goodness me, this is so well-written, rings so true, sounds real - more of an account than a story. Hope you're okay. Best Wishes, HJ.

Fri, October 22nd, 2021 12:15pm

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