I wish night time didn’t exist. I wish I didn’t need sleep or didn’t need to ever be in a bed again. I’ve spent so much of my life in a bed getting hurt or waiting to get hurt that I simply cannot associate a bed with anything but misery, pain and fear….and inevitably I end up in tears or frozen rigid within moments of lying down. Most often I wake up lying on the floor; apparently one of the small alters reaches a point where lying in a bed is intolerable and actually feels safer lying on the hard ground, hugging a cuddly lion. It’s very sad…bitterly sad, in fact…and somehow affects me more than the big things they/we are scared of.
And every night I get raped still. Irrespective of ‘real’ life – I won’t go into details of what happens in my actual life currently, but aside from this the hallucinations and nightmares are so profoundly powerful at night-time that I can honestly say I get raped again. It is my reality, and although when I wake up I know it’s not happened and I can rationalise that it hasn’t happened, the emotional impact is still the same. Is it any wonder I often wake up in the night and just run into town, either for the hope that someone REAL will hurt me so that I feel less crazy, or just in order to run away from the nightmares and hallucinations. If someone REAL hurts me I can at least dissociate from it, or fall asleep. I can’t do that with nightmares and hallucinations. In the maddest sense, they frighten me more, for that exact reason. There’s no escape from them and I can’t scream for help.
Every night I hear my door creak and a bit of light creeps in. Just like when I was younger, I make my body go all floppy – in the hope that they’d leave me alone if I’m asleep. Wouldn’t they? I try to make my breathing sound heavier, and very slowly curl myself up so that it’s harder for them to access the vulnerable parts of me.
But, as when I was younger, it never works. I lie there, icy cold panic surging through my blood, tears already welled up in my eyes because I know what’s coming…and I hear the abuser creeping towards me. I listen. It’s my grandad. Every night it is him. I can hear him touching all of my stuff. Violating everything.
I feel a slight pressure on the duvet. I feel it be pulled slowly off of me, so now I’m shivering. I can feel him staring down at me. Staring at me and his breathing quickening already. It makes me sick. I taste bile but hold it back. I feel his fingers run through my hair. Through my hair, behind my ear….slowly down my neck, pausing slightly and feeling my pulse…stroking my neck…running his fingers down onto my shoulders…to in front of my shoulders on my chest where he cups me…squeezes…ouch…then back up to my shoulders, and strokes the outline of my shoulder blades…then two hands…one running down my back, one running down my front…one on my behind and then my legs, one staying at my front, just pausing there….both now at my thighs…I brace myself…he can feel I’m awake…his breathing is so quick…so quick…I want to be sick…i clamp my thighs together but it’s no use…with both hands he forces them apart and rolls me onto my back. I keep my head to one side. My eyes still closed. “Good girl…” he whispers… “this his how you make everything right…”
He pushes onto me. I feel a whimper rise from my chest. I try to contain it but I’m scared so it comes out. He puts one hand onto my jaw, forces my face to turn so he can put his tongue in my mouth. I gag. He pushes deeper. The tears fall down my face. I feel all little again. He’s too powerful. I can smell him. It’s disgusting. I lie there as he rapes me and kisses me, my body unsure how to respond to this. Brutal torturous rapes and my body knows it’s bad. This type? My body get’s confused. So then I feel ashamed. I feel sick and ashamed and want my body to just die. I hate it.
His breathing quickens, quickens, and then he groans and slumps onto me…his whole body weight pressing on me. I wince, and try to squirm my face away from his chest. He catches his breath back, kisses me, slaps me around the face…tells me he’ll kill my sister if I tell anyone, and then leaves. I stay frozen still, my body still struggling, my heart pounding and I want to be sick but daren’t move in case he comes back. I stay frozen for best part of an hour, before the tears win and I rock silently with tears and sob myself to sleep.
This is what I go through EVERY night. A silent nightmare or hallucination.
And people wonder why I leave the house and run into danger….at least real danger I can dissociate from and scream and sleep through….and isn’t someone personal to me who was supposed to be protecting and loving me…. at least my body doesn’t get confused…. I hate night time.