Until It Happens to You

Two years ago I went out on the town with a friend, D.  We laughed, we drank, we danced, we drank some more.  I was just about at my alcohol limit and on my way home to sleep it off when I ran into  George, an old acquaintance, who was out celebrating the signing of his divorce papers.  I was shocked.  The two of them seemed so in love.  I had no idea they were having problems (sound familiar).  They always appeared to be so happy together.  His wife had been cheating on him with a co-worker and she announced that she didn’t want George anymore.   And so we drank.

Alcohol has always

been a good friend of mine. It helped me to forget momentarily all the bullshit I dealt with in real life and escape.  I have always been a “safe drinker” making sure to eat a meal before-hand and alternate drinking a glass of water for every glass of alcohol.  I have never had a hang-over, a DUI or gotten sick.  I knew my limit.

At the end of this night however it was very different.  As my troop stumbled out of the venue I knew I was unfit for anything as I could barely walk.  D was anxious to get to a booty call and was not interested in driving me across town.  We bumped into Random Acquaintance (RA) who offered to drive me to Denny’s to get some food, sober up then I could drive home on my own.  RA would drive me in my car while his buddy drove his.  D  found this to be a good solution and left.  I was drunk and in no point to make a rational decision but I knew this one was bad.

The night did not commence as planned.  We went to the restaurant and I ate nothing as the smell of food made me sick.  I sat at the table fading in and out of consciousness.  I told RA I wanted to go home and while he had no idea where I lived I told him to look at my license.  He said he would take me and we left.  Then it gets fuzzier.

I remember riding in the car, falling asleep, waking up to the chill of the night air while being carried in the house and being set on the couch.  Only we weren’t in my house.  I was completely out of it and dozed back off to sleep until I was awakened to the full weight of  RA on top of me.  I struggled, and fought but I was drunk and overpowered.  After scratching and kicking and biting I was finally able to force him off of me.  I grabbed my keys from the table and ran out into the cold with only my shirt and and my skirt on.  My shoes, panties, jacket all left behind.  I ran aimlessly around an unfamiliar apartment complex and hid in the bushes at the thought that he might follow me.

After about maybe 10 or 20 minutes (I had no real sense of time) I got up  out of the dirt, searched for my car and drove home.  It was pure grace that allowed me to get out of there.  I took a shower when I got home and laid in the tub and cried.  What was I supposed to do?  How would I explain this to my husband?  How would I explain this to the police?  I only knew his first name, I could not tell you where he lived and I was drunk.  Who would believe me?

The next day I laid sick in the bed all day.  Embarrassed and ashamed I called my doctor to make an appointment but that was all I could muster up the courage to do.  I could not look at my husband.  I felt like I had let him down.  I cannot believe that me, the person who had every answer and a back-up plan had been raped.  I began to judge myself just like I had judged every women I would see on Law & Order SVU, who had too much to drink and was raped.  She should have been smarter.  I should have been smarter.  It was my fault.

That night I told my husband everything.  He was angry at me.  I was angry at me.  He could not believe that I could be so irresponsible to let this happen.  He didn’t fully believe me.  If this were true why I hadn’t called the police or gone to the emergency room?  Why didn’t I call him and tell him to pick me up?  How was I drunk enough to be raped, but sober enough to drive home?  And so my shame grew.  I went to my doctor that week to run a full panel and thankfully all results returned negative.  I talked to my therapist about the incident but never shared with anyone else.  My marriage was already in trouble and I didn’t want to further rock the boat so I put it in the past and covered it up.