#actuallydissociated

i changed my style of clothes

i stopped using make up

i washed myself thirteen times and scrubbed my body furiously

but

you were still there

i could still feel your hands on me, the pressure of your body against mine. doing things that i never wanted.

i can still feel your hands on my head, forcing me closer to you.

i’m still. i don’t move. i do as you tell me. i can’t risk anything.

afterwards

i’m in denial. it wasn’t that bad. i’m overreacting. i should have said no. i didn’t try to escape. it must be my fault.

i can’t eat. i feel sick to my stomach. i still feel you. in every move. my whole body tenses up and i relive everything over and over again.

either

i’m numb. i can’t feel anything

or

i feel everything. i scream. i cry. i’m furious. i’m panicking.

stop it, stop it , stop it.

i can’t sleep. i constantly see you, i feel you, i smell you.

i’m still searching for the words. but i think i’m slowly regaining my speech, this is the only way.