I was meant to go to a party today. A welcome back for a good friend who has been over seas for sometime.
My rapist was also invited.
My friend asked me if I wanted an invite in advance. They were perfectly polite and considerate about it. I put serious thought into saying no. I don’t want to be anywhere near him for good reason, but it’s been a few years and there’s been a lot of therapy…
And the friend had been away for so long. I missed them and wanted to be there to say hi again. So I accepted with the caveat that I may pull out last minute.
I made it to this morning. A few hours before the party was due to start (not long after I woke up) my stress levels had hit the point where my hands were shaking and I was on the verge of a panic attack. I let my friend know, I am a polite guest after all, and went back to bed for cuddles from my Wolf. Stress eased off pretty quick and all.
Which isn’t the point of this.
The point of this is that I hate it. I hate so much that he has any power over me still. I’m not stupid enough to force myself into the position of being in a room with him when I’m already at that stage hours in advance. I know it may take time before I can deal calmly with it… If I ever get to that point at all. But I hate it.
All he ever wanted was to have power over me, and he’s succeeded. Maybe not in the way he intended but he did succeed. That just makes my gut churn.