So everyone knows the Brock Turner guy who got a slap on the wrist for raping a girl at a party. I guess I have my own version of that, but of course the details are slightly different. Let me start by saying that I don’t know all the details of that situation, but with my experience… I struggle to call it rape because, had I been in my normal mind, I never would have had sex with that piece of crap guy, BUT it was my choice to drink the alcohol that got me to that intoxicated state. I didn’t stop myself, and I didn’t align myself with a friend to take care of me. I can’t get past blaming myself for drinking to blame him for taking advantage of me, and it’s not like he was sober either so we were both making impaired decisions. So was it just drunk sex? Not to me. Those memories still haunt me. That experience is why I have a deep urge to throw alcohol at a rock wall any time I see it. It’s why I’m repulsed to see my husband drink and refuse to kiss him if he has had anything, which is probably why he no longer drinks. Seeing a guy drink is the most unattractive thing to me, and it is because of my traumatic experience. Yes, I chose to go with the guy and his friends “camping”. I did not choose for them to blow pot smoke up my nose unexpectedly and repeatedly, which I later learned was called “shot gunning”. I don’t remember how I got from standing up to being surrounded by three guys with one on top of me telling the other to shut me up, which he promptly did so by kissing me. This story still infuriates my soul. I remember another saying to let him have a turn, at which point I started yelling that I needed to use the bathroom. After that, I got in the guy’s truck. I remember driving away from the tent and then blacked out until the next morning when I awoke to a bikini model poster on a wall wondering where the heck I was. I then faced a ride of shame back to my house, with my rapist as my driver.
This is the stuff I thought made me cool? It took me many years to realize how that encounter affected me. All I know is that, had I been sober, I never would have hooked up with that guy or been around his friends… and as much as I would like to blame it completely on him and call it rape, I honestly just blame myself for drinking the alcohol that inhibited my judgment.