Stuck in my own head - Trigger Warning

Every now and then my brain fixates. It picks something from my past, and it perseverates on it. Round and round it goes, the same thoughts, the same scenes, the same memories. For years I haven't thought of my trauma-related sexual history (assaults and rape), but suddenly, my brain won't stop. 


I keep replaying the three scenes. The one when I was a child, 12, he was 21. We were drunk, I let him get me drunk, I trusted him because I trusted my friend who invited him over. I shouldn't have trusted any of them. We were outside drinking at my mom's house, I left the group to go to the bathroom inside, and he followed me. I know I had made comments to my girl friends (Leah, who invited him over, and Nikki, who was staying with me) about wanting to be intimate with someone. I'm remembering more now than I used to remember, I think I made comments to my girlfriends about doing something with him... Well, he followed me inside, through the basement. I went upstairs to the washroom, and when I came back down he grabbed me, and he kissed me. I was okay with him kissing me... I was nervous, but I let it happen. It wasn't my first kiss. I can't remember what happened first... I just have scenes in my head of different aspects. I vividly remember him pulling me onto a mattress, reassuring me I was safe, that we wouldn't do anything I didn't want to do. That was a lie. My body betrayed me, perhaps that's why he thought I was okay with it. I said no, I told him to stop. He told me to relax. He used his fingers, he shoved them inside me. My body reacted as if I enjoyed it, I think that's what I hate most about the memory. He tried to get me to give him oral, I almost cried as he held my face to his penis. I was mortified. There was a noise upstairs, I was able to convince him to leave, for fear of being caught. He drove off, drunk. I hate my body for getting wet for him. For reacting to his touch. I hate that he thought what he was doing was okay... I told him no, I told him to stop. I was traumatized for years, unable to be touched. He did that to me. A while after it happened I finally told Leah what had happened, I had shut down, and she could see it. She apologized, she met him online, on Nexopia. She didn't actually know him, they weren't friends, he just offered to bring beer over. 


Flashforward to when I was 15. I apparently had no sense of self-preservation or common sense. I'm being overly critical of myself, I acknowledge it. I was messaged by a guy who said he went to the same school as me, and he thought it would be fun to meet. He claimed he just graduated, who knows, it was probably all a lie. Internet safety wasn't discussed back then, it was still new. I feel like the posterchild for internet safety. So this guy... We met at the school down the road, I felt it was a safe, public place. Apparently I was extremely naive, because it was a school with empty fields and no one around. After chatting for a bit, he began to touch me. I panicked, but I didn't scream. I said no, I told him to stop, but he shoved his hand up my skirt and pulled my top up. I was frozen. After I covered myself back up, he grabbed my hand and tried to force me to give him favours. He tried to convince me to give him oral... That was when he got a penis full of nails, and I ran. I panicked, afraid he would follow me home. He didn't. 


I don't remember exactly when the last one happened. It was as an adult, at least. Not that it makes it any better. I've written about this one a couple times on here... I probably have a more accurate date written somewhere. I was in my early twenties, sometime between 2012 and 2014. I blacked out some of the details, recently I've had questions about it that I couldn't answer. The main question on my mind was, did he use a condom? I found an old journal I wrote, it was written not long after it happened, and the answer was no. He did not. I remember physically trying to push him off of me as he groped me, I tried to get up and get away. He grabbed me, he pinned me, and he took my pants off. I pushed on his chest and I pushed on his arms. I told him no, and he raped me without a condom. I remember just laying there dead. I gave up trying to push him off when it wasn't working. I remember looking at him and asking "are you almost done?" ... I don't know if he came inside me, or pulled out... I don't remember cleaning myself up. I think he came inside me. I remember thinking about getting a rape kit done, but I never did. 


This post is dark, and deep, and blatantly awful. I just needed it out of my head. I needed to stop picturing what these men did to me. I needed to stop feeling it. Over and over again.