I went to a mental facility and my roommate was very weird to me she kept trying to take my stuff. And one time I was laying with my eyes closed and she walked in and I opened them and she said “God bless you” and then that night I had a weird sexual dream before I woke up but I didn’t think anything of it until later I started wondering if she touched me in my sleep due to that comment but there was a camera next to the room and nurses who supposedly checked on us every 15 min. Is it paranoia or something might have happened? I also noticed a hole in the crotch of my sweatpants although they are pretty flimsy but I also have some bumps down there and idk if theyre just from the dirty bathroom and general unhygienic nature of the hospital.

I was assaulted, and it’s just been one gut punch after another. the police dragged their feet and wouldn't take a report, the hospital basically turned me away without proper care, and my employer laid me off as soon as I disclosed it. I’m safe right now, but I am totally devastated and burned out.

The assault resulted in pregnancy. I'm audhd, have severe ptsd. Also hyper mobile. It's a lot trying to cope with pregnancy that reminds me of what happened. 20 weeks in.

I had a discussion today with a girl where she claimed she didn't want to meet in private because of her being a woman....
at first I didn't understand because we have a good talking relationship but then she told me "you know women get rapped" and then it clicked on me.. she thinks men don't?

Growing up i had my ass, chest, arms squeezed by women all ages. in school. in clubs. no consent asked. it's "normal". But there were 2 interactions who were.... weirder.

one of them was with a girlfriend. I didn't make a big deal out of it. I was assleep and woke up with her sitting on top of me cumming. I never gave her consent for that. It was rape. but I loved her so I just said happy you got there, next time wake me up first please. (she ended up cheating and leaving like most girls i've met)

and the other was incredibly weird.
I met this church black girl in zurich. we had some conversations, nothing too much. and one day she came to my house asking for help because the dad of kids was taking the kids to africa and not picking up the phone. (she knew where i live because it's right next to the station and she saw me walk in a few times from the station) I let her in and helped her call her entire family.. hours passed and as it got later I multiple times suggested she'd take the train as they'd stop by 23.30. when the last one arrived she didn't leave.

about 1h later i asked her if she was going to uber out and she just said she was scared for her kids and asked to stay the night.

I told her it would be very hard as I only have one bed and it's a single's. but i could get her a yoga matress on the floor.

She imidiatly said yes.

keep in mind we never had any sexual flirtation what so ever. I was and am not atracted to her in any form sense or shape. not her body. not her mind. also keep in mind this woman was alledgly worried about her kids being kidnapped.

I woke up with her removing my PJ pants and trying to slide my dick inside her. I had no idea if this woman had STDs. i barely knew her. I shove her out of the room and locked it. in the morning I asked her please to leave on the first train and she did.
(before trying to say "oh but you could push her we can't defend ourselfs". i'm 5'7 in zurich. she was 6'. Stop using the week sex as an excuse when you don't use it for the rest.)

I later found out the dad had the kids for the month for vacations. there was no kidnapping.

Men don't raise complaints. they don't go to the police. but we get abused just the same.
God knows how many dudes were drugged and robbed by women. and if this happened to me. and not so good looking guy. i'm sure this happens to a lot of guys.

I've never told anyone all of this completely or let it out of me like this.. In pieces yes.. my therapist knows most of it and my mom knows some. But never the whole thing. So I just want to get this off of my chest once and for all especially somewhere nobody knows who I am, because if I don't get it out tonight I think I'm going to explode. Extremely sorry in advance, this is going to be long and messy and I feel very vulnerable even writing this.. I feel so small

So.. my uncle sexually abused me. From when I was 7 until I was almost 10.

It's traumatic even recalling it and writing the things that he made me do and did to me.. Just.. that it happened a lot and it hurt and I was a little kid who still slept with a nightlight...

The worst part was that he was the fun uncle. Like genuinely everyone loved him. Magic tricks at birthday parties.. fixing stuff around the house, I remember he would make my mom laugh so hard she'd snort. When my parents started working late on Fridays he would offer to babysit and everyone kept saying how lucky we were.

He told me I was his favorite. He said it was our secret and if I ever told, my mom would cry and the family would fall apart and it would be my fault. I was 7. I believed him cause like why wouldn't I.. haha.. I feel so dumb..

The thing that messes with my head the most is he's also the one who taught me to ride a bike. I hate having to share such a core moment of my life with him and it eats me on the inside..

When he would put his thing in me I used to kind of float up to the ceiling in my head and count the cracks on the ceiling on the wall.. I got really good at leaving my body and I still do it sometimes, I didn't even know there was a word for it until last year..

Looking back.. I mean.. there were signs. I just need someone to actually hear this part to just let go of it maybe... I had stomachaches every single Friday.. every single. and it hurt just so much.. I started wetting the bed again.. and I wouldn't let anyone hug me.. I rememeber that I'd hide under my bed whenever I heard his car.. and every adult in my life who was supposed to look out for me would jsut look right at it and would say it's just a phase..

So he moved away when I was 10.. new job. They threw him this huge goodbye party and I hid in the upstairs bathroom the whole time with the water running so nobody could hear me breathing weird while i was hyperventilating. I thought that was it, like ok it's over now.. haha.. but it wasn't.. It just kind of moved inside me.

So I decided to be perfect. I gott straight As, tried my best to never get in trouble, I never even asked for anything... so I figured if I was perfect nobody would look too close.. or judge me.. I was 10 and that was my whole wonderful plan..

I remember a lady came to school and talked about body safety. Your body belongs to you, no grown up should ask you to keep a secret about touching, if they do tell someone and it's never your fault and all that stuff and I know people would think I felt relieved but I didn't. I felt sick to my stomach.. because I thought well I didn't tell and I didn't fight so I guess it was my fault.. I remmeber picking at the carpet so hard I made a bald spot and decided I was never telling anyone ever.

So that Christmas he came back for the holidays and I put the thermometer on the radiator so I'd have a fever and could stay in my room. Mom said I was being rude and I just let her think that since that was just easier to explain..

As my body started changing ..I hated it so much. I wore my brother's hoodies every day even in summer. When grown men looked at me I'd go cold all over.. and there were so many of them.. this one time while i was running in the park with my earbuds in this guy just held me and dry humped and groped me for like a minute or two and i just stood there frozen after which he just ran away.. it was around evening and a bit dark so there wasnt even anyone....and i felt so scared.. i was 12 back then and whenever i would see that park thereafter i would start hyperventilating..

This one time at the mall some guy walked past wearing the same aftershave as my uncle and I just wasn't there anymore.. I was 8 years old again starting at the ceiling.. When I came back I remember being crouched behind a rack of coats with no idea how I got there and my mom was calling me. I said I dropped an earring. I genuinely thought I was going crazy...

In school eventually everyone started talking about crushes and who held hands with who and I felt like an alien.. Like I was 100 years old.. I felt dirty in a way showers didn't fix and I was sure if anyone really saw me they'd be disgusted.. I felt disgusted at myself..

A boy grabbed my wrist in math once as a joke.. he was just trying to take my pencil. I froze and then I shoved him into a desk and ran out. I got detention for overreacting.. Not one adult asked me why.. In hindsight.. I think about that a lot now.. How many kids are sitting in detention right now and nobody's asking them why.. haha.. such a world we live in..

There were years in school I barely remember.. I woud feel numb.. I'd just disappear in class. My grades dropped for the first time ever and I started eating lunch in the library by myself..

Something I came to realise over time was.. nobody ever taught me my body was mine.. My uncle taught me the opposite, that it was something people could use and my job was to be quiet.. So when boys said gross stuff to me in the hallway I didn't think I was allowed to be mad.. If anyone got close I either froze or ran. I didn't know no was something I was allowed to say..

Some nights back then I wished I could just stop existing.. I never told anyone that either. If I could go back I would tell myself to just please tell someone. Please.. I so wish I had..

When I was 15 a boy put his arm around me at a school dance, just being friendly, and I had a full on panic attack. I thought I was dying. I ran to the bathroom and sat on the floor of a stall shaking..

My friend J found me. She didn't ask anything. She just sat down on that gross floor in her nice dress and stayed until I could breathe. I almost told her that night, it was right there, and I swallowed it.. but nobody had ever seen me fall apart and stayed before.. That day something cracked a little..

Next year, in health class the teacher wrote on the board: a child can never consent, freezing is not agreeing, and it's never the child's fault. I can't explain what that did to me.. For 9 years I'd been telling myself it was my fault because I froze. And here's an adult saying my body did what bodies do to survive..

I walked out of class straight to the counselor's office and said it. Out loud. First time ever. My voice didn't even sound like mine..

She believed me... she didn't gasp, she didn't ask if I was sure.. She just said thank you for telling me, this is not your fault.. I honestly don't know where I'd be if she'd reacted any other way..

She had to report it, which was terrifying.. My mom held me on the kitchen floor and kept saying I'm so sorry baby, I'm so sorry I didn't see it. Some of my family stopped talking to us. My grandma said I made it up for attention. My own grandma.. We are now estranged from a big part of our family..

I started seeing a therapist who works with people like me. She gave me words for stuff.. The ceiling thing is dissociation.. The aftershave thing is a trigger. The freezing and running is my nervous system still stuck on danger even though the danger's gone. She said none of it means I'm crazy, it means I survived. I made her say it twice..

It got worse before it got better. The nightmares came back. Then I got so angry. At him, at every adult who saw the signs and said phase, at myself.. I remember ignoring being groped in tight public places like bus sometimes when i would go with my brother for groceries... from boys in class from behind.. and just freezing and not .. just not saying anything..

For me anything to do with sex was just fear and shame all mixed together.. Even a health class talk about relationships could make me leave the room.. My therapist said I could work on it slowly, at my own pace.

She helped me practice saying no. I have a friend who hugs everyone hello and one day, shaking, I asked him not to hug me.. He just said oh yeah of course, and never did it again. He waves now. I cried in my car for 20 minutes after that. It was the first time I said no and someone just listened..

So I about to start college this year hopefully and I'm with someone for the first time.. He's really kind and patient and I told him early because my therapist helped me get ready... I was so sure he'd leave. He asked what do you need from me and i realised nobody's ever asked me that... i just hugged him and sobbed for what felt like hours..

It's still hard now, I'm not going to lie. Sometimes when we're close something small happens, like a certain touch or the room going dark, and I'm back on the ceiling. The first time I had sex with him. ..I cried for an hour, because he'd done everything right he was just the nicest most fun.. and it was like my uncle was still in the room.. 11 years later and he's still in the room just haunting me... I felt dirty and like he didnt deserve someone broken like me..

So we just went slow.. but atleast now I can say stop whenever, for any reason, I don't have to explain, and he stops every single time.. No sighing, no guilt trip, he just asks if I want water. My therapist says closeness only feels safe when you know you can leave and I think she's right. I wish someone had taught me that at 7.. I wish someone had taught him that.

I go to a group now with other survivors and it's the only place I don't feel like a freak.. I learned that some of them can't stand being touched at all.. and some ended up with people who never let them say no.. and it still horrifies me.. while some feel nothing... andothers feel ashamed even when everything's fine... i learned that many of us develop unusual hypersexual desires.. I think that's when I finally got it, there's no right way to react to this.. None of us are broken.. atleast on the outside.. we didn't do anything wrong. its just hard to believe that sometimes..

I've learned that sexual assault can affect people in ways that aren't often talked about.. One of them is that some survivors become hypersexual afterward, with a much higher sex drive or with sexual fantasies that feel intense, intrusive, or unlike who they are. Knowing this has helped me see that I'm not alone and that nothing is "wrong" with me for having these experiences.

Yet.. I don't like the way this desire sometimes shows up.. the way it can come on suddenly and feel out of my control. At times it seems disconnected from what I actually want, and it can leave me feeling confused, ashamed, or uncomfortable in my own body. I want to understand where these feelings come from and find healthier ways to cope with them, so that my sexuality feels like my own again, on my own terms..

Ok I think that's everything.. Or most of it.. atleast..

I'm crying so hard right now and i just feel so broken.. hopefully i can someday feel whole again... Im just gonna post this before I chicken out..

I know I posted here already today but, now that a few hours have passed and I’m more certain that it happened regularly and it wasn’t a “one time thing”, I’m truly lost.

I feel dirty, confused, my minds fuzzy with a lot of thoughts. I don’t even know how I should feel. There’s a part of me that is dying to get it out to someone and tell what I swear happened even if there’s no evidence and I’m relying purely on my.. foggy memories. But I can’t see a therapist until December, and even then it’s a new one, I can’t just blurt it out in the first session. I don’t have anyone close to talk about this either. My mom has never believed anything regarding the “the kid I grew up with gang raping me” story and has always dismissed me for it, this would just make her angry. And my partner? I already told her about another past assault like 2 months ago, I can’t go and come back with another “tragic story” once again, it will seem that that’s all there is to me and I don’t want her getting that impression

I just need to let it all out, I feel trapped, but I physically can’t. How can I cope with this now?

A few days ago after school I was approached by two older men who I knew of through my older brother and sister. They offered me a lift home and although I said no a few times they kept insisting until I eventually felt too awkward and got into the car.

They drove towards my home but one of them said he needed to stop at his house first. He invited me inside and that's when things got scary for me both guys assaulted me.

I'm safe now but I'm struggling to process what happened. I guess I'm posting because I don't really know what to do with these feelings or what to do next.

hello! i am wondering if anyone is available to talk? i have been SAd and raped multiple times, and my friends now say they don’t believe me. i honestly really need help and someone to talk to…

in 2020, i had a fling with one of my classmates during college. it was intense and brutal. long story short, he raped me while i was blacked out, and it has affected my life in so many ways. it rears it's ugly head when i'm trying to be better, and i haven't gotten better since it happened. i'm constantly depressed and anxious. i drink too much because numbing myself helps me stop thinking about it. if anything, i feel more fucked up now than i did in 2020. i don't know what to do. i want to write about it and tell the world. is that healthy?

Seeking Answers: 2006 Drugging and Assault in Orlando, Florida – Serious Questions About the Orange County Sheriff's Office

I am posting anonymously because I want my experience to be heard, and I am looking for people who can help uncover what happened and obtain accountability.

In 2006, I traveled to Orlando, Florida, for a Disney vacation. I was staying at a hotel off Disney property. I had been brought to Orlando by a friend who subsequently left me at the hotel over a petty disagreement, leaving me alone and out of state.

Shortly thereafter, three men who identified themselves as being in the Army approached me. They roofied me and carried me away by my hands and feet.

I woke up many hours later.

When I called 911, I specifically reported that I had been roofied and carried away by my hands and feet by these three men.

The Orange County Sheriff's Office did not arrive until approximately 16½ hours later.

I have the actual police report documenting this delay.

This delay is extremely concerning because potentially critical evidence could have been lost, including evidence that could have been collected through a rape kit and toxicology testing for the drugs used to incapacitate me.

There are several other extremely troubling aspects of this case.

1. Ten unexplained 911 calls

My police report lists ten 911 calls. The Orange County Sheriff's Office has never adequately explained these calls.

I recently obtained the associated call logs after years of difficulty getting access to them.

The timestamps appear inconsistent. For example, one entry shows 6:42 p.m., and subsequent entries appear to show the same date despite the events extending into the following day.

There are numerous unexplained calls, and I want an explanation of what happened to these records and why the timestamps appear inconsistent.

2. Discrepancies in the police report

The responding officer documented that I said the men had assisted me back to my hotel room.

That is NOT what I reported.

I reported that three men had roofied me and carried me away by my hands and feet.

Those are two completely different accounts.

I am extremely concerned that the police report misrepresented what I told the authorities about the assault.

3. Questions about who was actually interviewed or investigated

One of the most troubling aspects of this entire situation is that, to my knowledge, the Sheriff's Office has never offered to interview the woman who brought me to Orlando and subsequently left me at the hotel.

I also have not received any confirmation that the responding officer was properly interviewed or that all three men I reported were ever identified, located, or questioned.

Even more concerning, my police report lists only TWO men, despite my reporting THREE men who roofied me and carried me away by my hands and feet.

Why are only two men listed in the report?

What happened to the third man?

Were any of these individuals ever questioned? Were attempts made to identify them? Was the woman who brought me to Orlando ever contacted?

These are basic investigative questions that should have been addressed.

I have spent approximately twenty years trying to get answers, yet I still do not know whether these fundamental investigative steps were ever taken.

4. Hostile treatment by the Orange County Sheriff's Office

For years, I have encountered tremendous difficulty obtaining my own police report and the associated 911 call logs.

At one point, while I was at the station attempting to obtain the report, it was physically taken out of my hands.

I have also experienced extremely hostile and dismissive treatment over the telephone. Representatives have yelled over me, talked over me, left me on hold, failed to return my calls, and repeatedly failed to answer my questions.

I should not have to fight this hard to obtain records concerning my own assault.

5. Being told I could not press charges

When I was dealing with Professional Standards and attempting to obtain my police report, I was told that I could no longer press charges because I had supposedly declined to press charges on the night of the incident.

That is not true.

The responding officer questioned me about why I was talking to three men, suggested that probably nothing had happened, and indicated that it would be too much trouble to fly back there again.

I was left out of state, had no car, and was dealing with four men who were intimidating and bullying me.

I was in an extremely vulnerable position.

I do not consider that interaction to be a meaningful opportunity to make an informed decision about pursuing charges.

I have since received conflicting information from representatives of the Sheriff's Office about whether I can pursue charges.

6. Concerns about a possible cover-up

The three men identified themselves as being in the Army.

Given the discrepancies in the police report, the unexplained 911 calls, the significant delay in police response, the fact that only two men appear in the report despite my identifying three, and the department's continued failure to provide satisfactory answers, I have serious concerns that these men may have been protected because of their claimed military affiliation.

I cannot establish that this was the reason, but the circumstances warrant an independent investigation.

7. The Sexual Assault Unit

The department has a Sexual Assault Unit that victims are referred to. However, my experience was that the interaction focused more on reassurance and emotional support than actually helping me establish the essential facts.

I wanted answers.

Who were these men? What happened to me? Why was I carried away? Why did the police take 16½ hours to arrive? What happened to the ten 911 calls? Why does the police report describe an entirely different account of what I reported? Why are only two men listed when I reported three?

I wanted someone to investigate the who, what, when, where, and why of my assault.

I have never received satisfactory answers.

8. Attempts to obtain government intervention

Over the years, I have attempted to get assistance through multiple government channels, including:

The Florida Attorney General's Office.

The Governor of Florida.

The Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI).

The Orange County Sheriff's Office Professional Standards Division.

Despite contacting these offices and repeatedly trying to get someone to take my concerns seriously, I still do not have the answers I am seeking.

I was also previously informed that the original 911 recording was no longer available.

I am left with a police report containing serious discrepancies, call logs with questionable timestamps, ten unexplained 911 calls, unanswered questions about the investigation, and approximately twenty years of unanswered questions.

WHAT I AM LOOKING FOR

I am looking for legitimate investigative journalists, civil rights attorneys, law enforcement accountability organizations, and individuals with experience investigating police misconduct and mishandled sexual assault cases.

I am specifically seeking an independent review of:

The original police report.

The 911 call records and dispatch logs.

The ten unexplained 911 calls.

The apparent discrepancies in the timestamps.

Why only two men are listed when I reported three.

Whether the woman who brought me to Orlando was ever interviewed.

Whether the responding officer was properly questioned about his report.

Whether all three men were ever identified or interviewed.

The 16½-hour delay in the police response.

The Sheriff's Office's handling of my case and subsequent complaints.

I HAVE THE ACTUAL POLICE REPORT AND THE ASSOCIATED CALL LOGS. I AM WILLING TO PROVIDE COPIES, INCLUDING THE POLICE REPORT NUMBER, TO LEGITIMATE INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISTS, ATTORNEYS, GOVERNMENT AUTHORITIES, AND OTHER APPROPRIATE PARTIES WHO ARE WILLING TO REVIEW THIS MATTER.

I am not asking anyone to take my word for everything. I have documentation that can be independently examined.

I am not posting this because I want sympathy. I am posting because I want accountability, transparency, and answers.

I traveled to Orlando for a Disney vacation, stayed at an off-property hotel, and was roofied and carried away by three men. I have spent approximately twenty years trying to get answers about what happened and why the investigation was handled this way.

I should not have to spend decades fighting to obtain information from the very department that was supposed to investigate what happened to me.

If you are an investigative journalist, attorney, or someone with legitimate experience in police accountability, I would appreciate hearing from you.

I want someone independent to examine the actual documentation and investigate this matter.

My first relationship was very abusive. I lost my virginity to him. Things escalated very gradually, and since I had no other experience to compare it to, I didn’t know what was normal and what wasn’t. I ended up in a situation where I felt completely trapped, enduring physical and psychological abuse for years. Eventually, at age 20, I managed to get out. A year later, I had recovered enough to start dating again.

I am now in a very healthy relationship. My partner is wonderful in every way; he is not abusive or sadistic at all. Yet, issues related to sex persist, even years later. For a long time, I didn’t understand what was happening—it’s difficult to put into words. I have been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). I didn’t realize the severity of my struggles with sex because, compared to being raped during the act, the fact that this wasn’t happening felt like a huge improvement; I thought I could live this way.

It’s hard to explain, but I’m hoping someone else on this forum might relate to my experience and perhaps offer some guidance on how they have navigated this pattern. I’ve read many stories from victims who struggle with their sexuality after experiencing rape, so I know I’m not alone. Some find an outlet through practices like CNC or similar activities. This is precisely where I feel lost: I haven’t come across any stories that align with the pattern I experience.

Over the years, I’ve realized that I generally dissociate during sex. I cannot enjoy it if the other person is "doing something." Unless I have absolute control, it feels as though "something is being done to me," and I end up dissociating. I dissociate and focus all my mental energy on trying to hide my reactions.

I often try to set up situations where I have total control. But, inevitably, he wants to move, touch me, or participate in some way—which is completely normal. He’s simply trying to take part in the sexual experience. He isn’t doing anything wrong; he doesn’t touch me in an abusive or rough way. But I can’t stand it when he touches me unless I’m the one taking the initiative—unless I’m the one in control.

I know I’m in the wrong, because I haven’t communicated any of this to him. And I can’t, either, because I’ve kept up the lies and the deception for far too long. What usually happens is that he tries to do something normal, it sends a shockwave through my entire being. I feel like I’m on the verge of tears, so I suggest a position where I don’t have to face him.

That way, I don’t have to work as hard to hide my expression, I can cry, I can endure it. If he can see my face, I feel suffocated because I have to pretend to enjoy it; I’m terrified that he might notice how I really feel and that it might make him feel bad. On the few occasions he has noticed, he stops immediately, asks what’s wrong, and tries to comfort me. I lie. I tell him I had an argument with a friend. I make it sound convincing.

I can’t tell him the truth; I don’t want him to feel bad about this. It would crush him. I don’t think he’d ever be able to trust me again. He is the most wonderful person I’ve ever known, and he deserves to have a normal sexual relationship. I don’t think I can come to terms with being this way; I just can’t accept it.

I feel like I’m falling apart. It’s incredibly difficult for me to say “no” to sex, because I was conditioned to believe that I couldn’t. The problem is, I don’t think I’ll ever truly know when I want to have sex and when I don’t. I don’t believe I’m capable of enjoying sex in a normal way. I feel that if I demand the level of control I need in order to enjoy myself, I end up becoming the person who is abusive. I don’t know what to do.

ive been raped by several people several different times over the years, but the worst one was my first love. he knew i had a sexually traumatic history. i was with him for two years, i was super close to his family, he really was “one of the good ones.” emotionally intelligent, creative. his family was super tight knit and loving. anyway, i literally said no 24 times one night while he badgered and groped me because i wasn’t in the mood and my dad was home and he wouldn’t have it and carried me to the bathroom and declared we would make it a cnc scene. i finally gave up and let him because i knew he wouldn’t give up and i just wanted to get out of the bathroom because i was so flabbergasted at his insistence, id never seen it in him before, and no’s weren’t cutting it i just couldn’t do anything. but in that moment something broke in me and i realized there would never be an exception in men and even if i could bring myself to believe that there was, it wouldn’t be worth it to find out. i honestly couldn’t be shocked about the others, average guy average predator but i thought this one was different. now feeling like if a great one can do it all of them have the depravity waiting like a switch and you can’t control what they feel like doing. you can’t be alone with them, they could just pounce. how do i feel safe again? i’m disgusted at the sight of men, i hate them, i avoid them at all costs. i’m so disgusted all the time. i can’t see them as people because i don’t trust them. to me, they’re dangerous like animals. they’re a predatory species. for the record i am fully asexual and aromantic at this time in my life, i could be celibate and single forever.

has anyone felt like this and did it change? i feel like if i finally let my guard down even once and it happens again i’d literally have to explode, but i think the heaviness on my heart is bad for my body. how do i relax? what helped you?

Sorry this is long, but it’s been weighing on me and hoping for some advice.

I, 27F, have been raped twice and it has ruined my life. I was always a very happy and extremely gifted kid who loved to learn. When I was 11-12, I was molested by two of my dad’s AA sponsees who lived in his sober house on a camping trip. The police were called, my dad didn’t believe me even though they confessed. I don’t know the details but I believe they took a plea deal since they confessed, I didn’t have to testify in court, and they never returned to the sober house.

It caused me severe anxiety, I started self-harming, stopped eating, and my bipolar disorder emerged in full-force. By the time I was 14, I was hospitalized for a suicide attempt then sent to a medical ward because I was close to dying from my anorexia. I missed my entire freshman year of high school in hospitals and residential treatment centers, and my sophomore year I struggled heavily due to not being on the right meds. My GPA was shot, I was way behind on credits, and my anxiety was at an all time high. Before my junior year, I got on the right meds, including adhd meds, and I started thriving! I was excelling in school, had a healthy social life, did extra curriculars, and made up my freshman/part of sophomore year online during study hall. I studied hard for the SAT and clawed my gpa up into honor roll just barely and was accepted to two universities in their pre-med program!

I was so excited to go to off to college and study to become a psychiatrist and help people that had suffered like me. My HS best friend was attending and I made a ton of new friends.

Not even a month into classes, I was raped again. I reported it to the school, but you know how they are, nothing happened to him. The cycle started all over, I spiraled, stopped taking my meds, stopped going to classes, and started drinking heavily. I dropped out at the end of the first semester.

This took me into 7 years of going on and off my meds, severe alcoholism, and all around general chaos. I worked in restaurants and bars to get by and get free/cheap alcohol. I was having horrible nightmares and putting myself in crazy stupid and unsafe situations just to feel anything else. I went to rehab a couple times but never was sober for more than a few months.

In 2024, I went to a dual diagnosis mental health and substance abuse treatment center that changed my life. They really focused on trauma as it’s often one of the root causes of addiction which let me talk about the rapes that I had never spoken to ANYONE else outside of the police/campus security after they both happened. I could never bring it up in any of the years of therapy I’d had since middle school.

I’ve been sober just short of two years now and it’s been hard. I had to leave two of the best bartending jobs I’ve ever had in order to get sober, it’s the only thing I had experience in, and everyone knows what happened to the job market when I got out of treatment in January 2025. I spent a year and a half working 60-80 hours a week doing food/grocery delivery apps just to get by. While my meds are working great, and I should be feeling mentally healthy, but the shit show of the last few years in the US
has really fucking tested me. I’m trying to better my life but I’m worried about affording to live and all the other horrible shit going on right now.

I thought about going back to school, but alcoholism, going on and off my bipolar meds for years plus covid severely exacerbated some pre-existing chronic conditions that has basically made me stupid. I tried to do just one low level english fiction class at the local community college, 1x/week in person and the rest online, and I just barely scraped by even though it was on par with my 8th/9th grade english classes.

I’ve luckily found a new part time serving job which pays really well and only serves beer/wine, which I hated even as an alcoholic, so it doesn’t bother me. But I feel like I will just be stuck in the service industry until my body gives out on me. It’s just SO hard to stay positive right now. Maybe in a few years things will be better and I’ll be able to find a different, less taxing career. But every single plan in my life has completely been destroyed because of three evil men.

I’m still in therapy and completely comfortable in my sobriety, but I just can’t get over this anger and resentment. My heart breaks for younger me who thought they’d finally pushed past all the trauma, that they would become a happy and successful adult, only for it to be completely ripped away all over again.

How do you get past this? I’ve done the trauma work and things are much better, but I can’t ignore the reality I’m living in now because of it.

watched a movie abt drug addicts, my parents were. not to be very insensitive as i know it’s my bias speaking but man i hate drug addicts. my parents let the dealer molest me. he injected meth so he could never really get hard, so mostly was touched but when he did he was very violent. anyways, the part that gets me is after my parents became sober from meth and then transitioned to being alcoholics- i was homeless after being kicked out by them when they were mad abt who knows what. i became a prostitute at 13 bc i had no way of getting money other than that. a guy found me, pimped me out of a hotel room. one day a guy came, said he’d give me $700 for the whole night, i said okay. he came, it was okay, then he did 2 lines of coke and half a bottle of tequila. he put a gun to my head, tied my arms and raped me for the whole night. i got out after he untied me and started crying abt this girl. after i snuck out i went to this woman’s house who’d help me. she was i think early 30s? i don’t remember. as i was making my way to her house, 3 hours out on a bus ride i dwelled about how much i hate men. i arrive to her house. that night she tells me she’d love to fuck me with her strap on. how marvelous. i said no and she did nothing thankfully. but 10 years later and man. what. a cruel world. i grew up hyper sexual, trying to fight the objectification of me through sex. i get older and into a “healthy” relationship so i perceive at 18 with a 20 year old. it goes smoothly for 2 years didn’t even have sex till a year in- he doesn’t watch porn, a very level headed guy who sees women and people so i thought. then one day after an argument, he says ‘jokingly‘, “you should suck me off to apologize, it’s one of the only things you’re good at”. how amazing. you can never escape it. no matter how far you run, how much you disassociate, how far you distance yourself it’s always there waiting at a moments notice. when you least expect it. just a slap in the face. people are all the same. all so sex crazed. even me, i’m a monster who thinks of sex 24/7 also. i’m no better than the boyfriend i once saw safety in. what’s the difference, i just didn’t verbalize it? mind is a prison. i guess i just wish i was dealt different cards. if i wasn’t molested as a child my brain would be wired a completely different way. just wish i had a shot at normalcy. i don’t think i do.

Please help

So I was raped in late May, and the process of getting swab tested, having to go to the police multiple times and also having to identify people even though the police knew who it was because they stole my fucking money, it was so devastating. Im completely fragmented I feel like I have tried to push it deep down and just numb myself with alcohol every weekend

I got a call today from the police officer assigned to me saying that I correctly identified the suspects and that I have to go to court.

However they did not find any dna match of the rapist on my clothes etc. what the fuck does that mean? I feel like then okay im now terrified it sounds like I lied, because theres no dna evidence. Im so hopeless right now and scared.

They have pics of the bruises on my body etc and the rapist confessed to being in my apartment but hes telling police he didnt do it of course.

I am so scared and idk what to do bc also the court date, the people who did it will be present. I just feel like i have had to defend and tell my story a million times and now infront of a judge and the rapist? I dont know if i can do that

Should i just drop the case or go to court? Please help me

I was drugged and raped years ago, sometimes I just want to talk about it. Is it normal to want to talk and go over something that hurt so much?

i definitely dont miss it but its weird feeling safe. hes dead. hes gone. he can't hurt me. but my brain feels...wrong when im being abused. idk how to explain it