I know that in 2010, it is more commonly referred to as "sexual assault." That term means nothing to me. That term is so broad, I think it means nothing to anyone. It sure does sound nicer than "rape" though.
After the rape, I entered therapy. The therapist encouraged me to write about my experiences since I had a flair for self-expression - especially when I sat at home at night and drank excessive amounts of alcohol. I ended up writing a "book" about my experiences. I think it is ironic that 29 years later, sitting here this morning, I am writing about this book, and the book was about me not wanting the rape to define me or change me.
Oh, it changed me.
In the last year I have been in therapy again to deal with post traumatic stress disorder from this. Imagine that. Twenty-nine years later. I am dealing with phantom fears. Not wanting to be as close as some people would like. Avoiding certain men after meetings because I know they don't want an AA hug, but want to plant a kiss on my lips and it makes me want to vomit.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand.... I was a young (drunken) woman, fighting with my husband, thrown out of my house... I wrote most of it here if you are curious. At that time, I thought I was over it. I thought it was a distant memory. Something that happened when I was drinking. But you know what they say... More Will Be Revealed.
I don't feel like I know much this morning, but I can tell you this: If you stay sober for a while and your sobriety is a living, breathing, organic thing - which is what I want my sobriety to be - you will not arrive at sobriety one day and presto! you are done. I still have growing and changing to do.
God is not done with me yet. And I am very very grateful for that.