SPOKANE (WA)
Gonzaga Bulletin
Oct. 11, 2019
By Anonymous sophomore male Gonzaga student
I don’t know how I feel about the time I was sexually assaulted.
There are feelings, remnants of memory and some general mental health problems.
I have thought about it daily since it happened all those years ago. It’s disjointed, unclear and foggy in my mind. One of the first unknowns that confronts me when I think about the assault is details. I might have a murky memory because of repression or the usual fading of memory, I’m not quite certain. The fact that I didn’t comprehend the assault at the time furthers the confusion.
Like so many others who have been assaulted, at the time sex wasn’t in my vocabulary, much less what abuse was. The memories became less distinct even as my ability to comprehend it sharpened.
Being honest with myself was hard. When I first accepted what happened was the first time I confided in my best friend. I couldn’t say the words, I typed it out on my phone and refused to look at them while they read it. It’s hard to think about of how I felt telling my friend then.
The feeling before revealing something so deeply personal is more physical than emotional. It feels like looking down over the edge of a cliff, gazing at the water I will jump into below. I know that when I land I’ll be alive, I’ll probably even be better off for the experience. The knowledge of what comes next doesn’t make what has to be said any better. You can’t take it
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