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The Journal of Emily G Myers

telling secrets
12/12/2005 03:04 a.m.
I guess I never considered that I might tell someone about what happened to be and be... ignored. I never prepared myself for that response. I got ready for tears, anger, confusion, shock, those stupid condolences I hate, "wow"s, and other things. not total silence. not non-response. I wasn't prepared. and now, I'm hurt. and maybe hurt wasn't the intented reaction. maybe I've just made someone feel uncomfortabale. maybe I shared too much too early. when is the right time to tell someone you were sexually assaulted? there is no good time for that. I haven't even told my roommate - the only real female friend I've had for a while. in fact, I believe this is the first time I've actually used those words publicly. there are people who don't know who might read this and know. I'm not sure how I feel about it.

when Max found out, he mentioned that it shocked him how "normal" I am. that rape victims he'd known had been mentally unstable, crazy, stupid, in some way broken. that I didn't seem any of those things. I explained to him that people deal with these situations in different ways, and just because I don't broadcast those things to everyone doesn't mean I'm not them. things have felt so unreal. like at any moment everything will disappear. I'm grasping at people, meeting new people, being insanely clingy because I feel like I'm disappearing. like maybe I never really existed at all. I don't just go aroud saying stuff like that to people. they're concerned about what new video game is out, what movie to rent, where to eat dinner, what tests they have to study for. I'm concerned about those things too. so I ignore this other stuff for the most part. sometimes it comes up and I can't ignore it. but I only ever tell Eric when that happens. except this time. it came up, and I told Ian. and Ian stopped writing. he hasn't written at all since last night. I feel stupid. like I expect him to be the kind of friend who can deal with stuff like that, but really he's not.

I have never felt more uncomfortable in my own skin. I hate the labels that I have now. I hate that Eric and my parents treat me differently because of what happened. that I can't go out with friends because something might happen. that I can't be home alone because something might happen. at any moment I could be raped or killed and I'm constantly reminded, leaving me in a constant state of fear and frustration. I hate giving him power. he shouldn't have any. fuck him. I hate him. he has nothing to do with me.

I don't know what to do. I just have to wait and listen.
I am currently Angry
I am listening to Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

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