Chapter 2
After several failed attempts at a 'normal' relationship with…anyone, I decided to leave the dating scene. School, academics and personal achievements would be my outlet. I took up sports, several in fact. I found that the less time I had to myself, the less I would need to relive the event.
The pure exhaustion of body and mind after an arduous day, provided my body with the ability to fall asleep with ease. I had struggled with insomnia for three long years before I finally found the perfect reprieve.
My dreams held an endless stream of nightmares. Making my body relive the night again, again and again. I could smell it, I could hear it and worst of all I felt it. Any thought of a sexual act would immediately repulse my body, sending a cold chill up my spine, just as the memory did. My body would shudder, I clenched my thighs together in fear of any unwanted onslaught on my sensitive area. Jesus it was a never ending cycle.
I felt the need to constantly protect myself from the dangers of being touched. I soon realised that physical contact should not be my only concern. I quickly came to the realization that my emotional and mental growth was not the same as that of my peers.
I didn't find trivial things funny, I could not laugh at the light hearted joking of violence. No matter the form. I often felt emotional in odd instances, not knowing what to do I decided that suppressing any unwanted emotions was the way to go.
I would excuse myself from any untoward conversations, knowing that it might flair the emotions I was working so hard to keep under. 'Fake it till you make it,' what a helpful statement, and later personal mantra.
"Just pretend it's fine." The desire to be and more importantly, to appear normal was ever growing. I understood early on that I was not fitting in.
My stoic façade did not exactly draw people in. I was labelled a snobbish bitch, an interesting title to adorn since I felt the exact opposite. I always felt inferior to my peer. They did and had everything I could not.
I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, hating every inch of it, wishing every day I was more beautiful. The school bullies did not aid my decaying self-confidence. Picking at every imperfection I had.
After the numerous failed attempts at a relationship and the decline of any future partners, I somehow became the school slut. A true accomplishment if you think about it. I hardly left the house and hadn't felt the touch of anyone for nearly two years at this point.
What am I doing wrong? Is there work required at being a wallflower, did I miss a step?
Graduating high school was a highlight, but the decision on what to do after was more challenging. Getting a degree seemed the logical route, I would get an English degree. Maybe I could become a teacher, or more likely lock myself up at home and be an author.
Along with studying English, I choose history as a second major. University life provided me with the freedom I had never known before. I needed to ensure all my work, classes and assignment were submitted but other than that I was free to do as I please.