rape

I feel as if my mind is a cyclone.  I am overwhelmed by the horror and beauty that surrounds me.  I’m tired of my own thoughts.  Everything is clearing out at once and all I want is to be comforted by date#16.  I need him.  I am tired of pretending that I have it all under control, because I don’t.  I am doing things with him that seem completely ludicrous.  We are having conversations with words displaying our dignity and grace.  All I can do is rub my head in confusion, squint and open my eyes wide as I take in what is actually going on.  It’s about change.  I have come to a place in my life where I see that everything I have ever thought and ever done is completely wrong, and I am willing to do something different.  The more I say out loud what is on my mind the stronger I get.  I have become fearless.  

I met up with encounter#19 against my better judgment.  I saw his profile on okcupid.  He talked about how he rarely refers to himself using the “m word” which I think stood for man.  I continued to read through his profile and he seemed well rounded, interested in the outdoors, hiking and such.  I scrolled down and noticed that he was performing a little social experiment as well.  He had two very long paragraphs written about machismo culture.  He was beginning to notice how he had participated in patriarchal society and maybe he might want to examine and change some of his behaviors.  So he would be abstaining from all sex for a year.  No porn, no maturating, no romantic intentions.  Immediately red flags began to appear.  The nature of his experiment, as well as his extreme detailed descriptions made me think twice about messaging him.  He was obviously crazy and eccentric.  But then I thought  “Well I’m extreme and eccentric”.  Obviously there had to be a reason he was finding this to be an important lesson for him and I became curious as to what the motivation behind his idea was.    

     I sent him a message and he responded with his phone number.  I called the next day.  He answered and I was having a hard time understanding what he was saying.  He was talking so fast and the phone reception was a fuzzy.  He seemed to be in the middle of something and the phone kept cutting out.  Finally I just came out with it and said I was calling because I was curious about his idea and was interested in hearing more about it.  In my profile I say, “I can’t help but notice the beauty and horror that surrounds me.”   He said these words attracted him to my profile, and he would be open to talking.  He reiterated that he was not looking for any romantic encounters.  I said that I understood and wanted to set up a time to talk.  He said, that he would get back to me.  I said that I preferred to set up a time right then and there.  He gave some resistance but finally agreed to settle on a time that worked for both of us.  I told him Tuesday morning worked for me.  He said, “How about 7:30 am?”,  I said that would be fine except that I had to drop my daughter off at school that morning.  I said I was thinking more along the lines of 10:00 a.m.  He hesitated but then agreed.  I thanked him for working through his anxiety around making plans and said I’ll see you Tuesday.  

On Saturday morning I received a text from him reiterating the time and place we would be meeting for conversation and an encounter.  I felt my brow furrow.  There was something odd about the tone of his text.  I thought it was weird that he was being so specific when I felt we were pretty clear when and why we were meeting already.  I told Elijah, “This guy is crazy”.  He said that meeting him on the beach might not be such a good idea and suggested that we meet in a more public place such as a coffee shop, I agreed.  Tuesday morning came, it was very foggy and the sky and atmosphere were a mix of grey and smokey white.  The air was heavy, cool and damp.  It had slipped my mind to rearrange our meeting time and there was a small part of me that felt that it would upset him and I wanted to avoid a confrontation.  As I was driving over to Natural Bridges, I remember focusing on the space in between my hands on the steering wheel and I thought a very bizarre and strange thought.  I was kind of spacing out and in my own world.  What went through my mind is impossible to justify.  I thought, “What if he rapes me?”.   Then, for some reason my next thought was this, “Oh it’s ok I can see it coming so it won’t be so bad”.  I do believe this absurd train of thought played an important role in what I was about to walk into.  

I parked my car on a side street and made my way down to the sand.  I paced along the waters edge.  A few minutes after ten I saw him walking toward me.  He was wearing a short sleeve t-shirt which I thought was slightly unusual because it was quite chilly.  I think I shook his hand and introduced myself.  He kept walking, I said do you mind if we sit because I would like to look at you face to face.  He said that would be fine, but he wanted to take a little walk first.  We headed toward one end of the beach and within the first 2 minutes of meeting him he became confrontational.  He said that my daughter was sure to have abandonment issues since she was being raised by parents living in two separate homes.  I felt my defenses flare up.  I held my ground calmly and stood behind my belief that Lucy’s dad and I were doing what was best for her.  In efforts to change the subject I said “So tell me about why you are doing this experiment”.  He became very agitated.  His eyes narrowed, his body became tense and rigid and he began gesturing his hands in a sharp way.  I remained calm.  He was freaking out saying that he didn’t feel like there was fertile ground to begin this conversation.  I told him that I was surprised by his abruptness because we had talked on the phone and had text messaged about the nature of our meeting which was conversation about his idea.  He seemed to be unaffected by my pointing out these facts and remained disturbed.  I was fully emerged in my own spirit and in my body.  My feet were firmly planted in the sand.  He was energetically out stretching his force, trying to arouse anger in me but I didn’t budge.  I asked him what he needed me to do so that he would feel safe to talk.  I also stated that we didn’t have to talk, that he could walk away at anytime.  He argued that I didn’t understand what he was saying.  I said that I did, I just needed him to be specific with what he needed.  Finally he calmed down and said that he needed to know more about me before he would feel safe to tell me the motivation behind his project.  I don't know if it was because I got the sense from him that he was on a mission to learn something in the form of a year long endeavor of practicing different behavior or if I was being guided by a bigger force but I had this feeling that my focus as identifying as a witness to his story somehow kept me grounded throughout the next hour or so.  

I explained that I was writing a book on relationships and connection and that the original format had changed slightly since I had been continuously writing about the same man for quite a number of segments.  I told him I was fascinated by relationships and how doing things differently can be just the thing to help one get out of behavior patterns that seemed to have been previously set in stone.  When he was satisfied with my disclosure he began his monologue.  He referred to romantic or flirtatious interactions with women as charging and re-charging.  When interfacing sexually with women he felt weak and he would be subject to the itch, the compulsion to charge and recharge.  He made a gesture into his arm, like that of starting a line, and then a digging or burrowing motion.  He made it clear, this was clearly painful for him and at times a form of torture.  I asked him if I could take a few notes, he said that was ok.  He talked about girls on campus.  “Girls in their Ugg boots, their yoga pants, their breasts hanging out of their shirt”.  That they would just pass him by. “You know, that’s they way girls up there dress you know? Just asking for attention, it’s a status symbol” he said.  He said that they hook him, he sees them walking by and they get the hook in him.  Then he feels powerless.  He’s hooked but he can’t do anything about it.  He wants to have sex with them but he can’t.  His eyes narrowed again.  He sat up straight puffed out his chest.  He described his frustration.  He feels so angry and frustrated, and then I saw it, I saw something different.  I saw a confusion in his face and a switch of his eyes.  I saw a little boy.  A little boy who couldn't figure out for the life of him why this was such a problem for him.  Then in a split second, his eyes changed again into the protector of that little boy, like a momentum that couldn’t be stopped, the guy who would get his way.  The guy who would provide that boy with what he needed.  In my head I was following his story.  Then I realized he had deviated from the usual explanation of sex given by the men who are safe to me.  He was talking about rage and sex.  He was talking so fast, he would not let me speak.  

At that juncture I was compelled to say something, some little voice inside me said call his bluff.   “Prove to him you aren't afraid of him, this could save your life”.  I reached out and put my hand on his knee.  I said, “Can I interrupt you for a moment?” “Listen I have to tell you something really weird, I have no idea where this came from but I have to tell you.  On the way over here I had this thought.  I thought what if he rapes me?  I’m not worried about it I see it coming I’ll be fine, but I realized I wouldn’t be fine, that would be horrible.”  He just sat there and stared back at me.  He didn’t ask me any questions and said nothing about my statement.  Then he went on describing in detail how if we were to get into a physical fight I would clearly lose.  If we got into an argument, I would lose.  If I called the police on him they would believe him and not me.  I was starting to get the impression that we were not having a conversation, but the tone was beginning to feel more like a confession.  He started to explain that he had once attended an event on a college campus where victims of rape were invited to share their stories.  “These girls that were going up there in their Ugg boots and their yoga pants had that special piece of themselves stolen permanently.”  I was looking up at him and his face was completely framed in white fog.  Almost as if I was watching him on a screen or inside of a picture frame.  The world stopped.  I think I was seeing his essence.  I stopped him again and said  “Yes, you are right, there was a piece stolen from me,  I thought I could never get it back.  I was never able to trust men.  I couldn't allow a man to love me.  I could never have a man touch me without old wounds being re-opened and relived.  But this year I met men whom one by one, each put a piece back by loving me without asking for or expecting sex.  Then date#16 showed me how a man can be, how he can be gentle, loving and passionate.  My new found sense of wholeness and my love make it possible for me to fully give myself to him.  Wonderful, beautiful, kind and caring men helped me heal that broken piece.” He asked if he could hug me, I said yes. He held me tight.   He was the one who determined the release of the embrace.  I can’t shake it, he was all about control.

thank god I’m moving on this train.  take me away from him take me away from them those men who are sick, the men who were not protectors but were perpetrators.  Those fucking sick men who prey on the vulnerable instead of finding a way to heal.  The necessary evils “I cant help but notice the beauty and horror that surrounds me on an everyday basis.”  I feel my insides becoming stiff and sick my stomach tuns and I feel weak like Im going to throw up or hit someone.  I feel shame and grief and weak and disgusting.  You didn’t just take, you injected me with poison as well.   I texted lylah and date#16 just now as I am writing this.  I need them I need their support.  I need their love.  I am weak and fragile.  Just got a hug from each of them over text.  

I did not run away, I looked into his eyes, I felt no fear.  When he pulled out his knife, I noticed the sharp steal blade.  It was about six inches long and it looked as if it had never been used to cut anything like a box or rope.  It was clean, shiny and sharp, very, very sharp.  I looked at the tip, it was as sharp as a broken shard of glass, the sleek curved edge of the blade tapered into a jagged edge which lead into the handle.  He began circling the top of his coffee cup with the pin point of his knife.  I thought, “He could cut me right here, right now, if he’s really this crazy, he’s not going to care if the man in the parking tower 100 feet away sees him.” We sat there on that log facing eachother,  he put the knife away only to pull it back out  a few seconds later, then he stuck it in the log.  I did not run away, I looked into his eyes, I felt no fear.  When he was finished talking we both walked back up to our cars and said goodbye.  I was slightly numb and feeling very overwhelmed.  I felt heavy and still as I drove home.  The sun was beginning to come out which intensified my feeling of emergence from a foreign dimension.

I can’t help but think about how things would have been different if I didn’t remain calm.  If I hadn’t said those things I was compelled to say.  When I got home I started to realize I felt like I had been sitting in a cage with a gorilla and had walked out free and unscathed.  The more I thought about it the more it seemed he was really acknowledging what he had done.  He was acknowledging what I believe he had taken from many women.   I thought about date#16 and all the good in the world in contrast to this sick man who was suffering.  Was he caught between his morals and his mind? I am overwhelmed.  I felt like as I was sitting there, he was apologizing to all the women he had ever raped or wanted to.   

the aftermath

I debated whether to email date#16, and decided to send him a brief message about what had happened and expressed that I was pretty freaked out and I thought a hug from him might help. I trust date#16 with my life.  He responded, saying anytime.  He came over to comfort me.  I told him the story and he was relieved that I was ok.  He said he felt protective of me.  We watched some TV and fell asleep in eachothers arms.  In the middle of the night,  I awoke with a dull headache and circular thoughts of encounter#19’s face, his mannerisms and the control he was exhibiting over me.  I woke up date#16.  I told him I was having a hard time, and I said I was scared, grateful and overwhelmed.  I began to cry.  Date#16 put his hand on my back and was a solid witness to my fear.  I felt safe to let it out in front of him.  I always do.  When the anxiety passed I fell back asleep, knowing the man lying next to me was pure love.  

three days later:

By Thursday I was having a hard time keeping my anxiety in check.  Panic attacks were brimming in my veins.  I was trying hard to take care of myself but I was breaking.  I couldn’t get the image of that knife out of my head.  I couldn’t control the adrenaline in my body.  I couldn’t help but play in my mind what could have happened.  At around 4:00 p.m. I went to get something to eat.  By 4:30 p.m.  I was rushing out of the restaurant, so I could begin walking as fast as I could to try and keep from hyperventilating.  I got a hold of Lylah.  I could barely speak.  I was sobbing walking down Pacific, just trying to get home.  She asked me what I thought would make me feel better.  I said, date#16.  She instructed me to go over to his house, and whether he was there or not, go hang out there until I felt better.  Barely breathing I made it home, got into my car and drove over to his place.  

He wasn't there so I sat out on his deck.  I felt a slight decompression.  I sat there for a few minutes and then decided to go inside and lay down on his bed.  I felt a little intrusive, but I did feel better.  I found some dull colored pencils and a piece of paper.  I drew a picture with the sharpest ones.  Gold, Red and black.  An abstract shape with a blade on one side.  Just being in his space provided a calm energy for me to feel safe.  Surrounded my earth and straw in his cob house, which he made himself, gave me immense comfort.  When I was finished drawing I could breathe again.  My plan was to to go to Kiva for a sauna and a tub and then go dance afterward.  Before I left I wrote date#16 a note on the picture I had drawn.  Along the edge in a circular fashion I wrote that I had come over to calm down, as I was having a rough time with my head.  I said I felt better.  And then in the very inside of the circle I wrote: I love you.  I was pretty convinced that I had lost my mind.  

After dancing I was feeling extremely raw and about to burst again.  Lylah came with me and we met at my house after wards.  I began to go into a severe PTSD episode.  I was too far gone.  When I am this triggered it begins to resemble a seizure.  I couldn’t speak, I was keeping my breath as steady as I could, I was sitting at my computer and date#16 had sent me a response to my note, saying sorry he missed me and that he liked my note.  I wrote to him over email, I was having a pretty bad attack, he asked If I wanted to come over.  By that time I couldn’t type anymore,  all I could do was rock and breathe quickly while taping my legs.  It was the best I could do.  Lylah replied yes for me.  I was losing it, but I knew I had to come up with some way to calm down enough so I could get out the door to safety, to him.  

We came up with this game, a kind of free association question game.  We asked eachother any question and then gave the first answer that came to mind even if it was complete nonsense.  

Lylah: Whats your favorite food?

Me: wood chips

But it worked.  It even got pretty funny and my breathing was back under control.  We got to his house and we navigated the path to his place with the light of her computer.  I felt like a special delivery.  I felt so loved.  At my most vulnerable of times I was taken care of, I was not alone.  He gave me a hug and Lylah hung out for a minute, then left us to watch The Daily Show.  He was kind and present and available.  We got tired and snuggled close in his twin bed.  I kissed him.  It helped quiet the fear in my head.  Then we made love to eachother.  I am not triggered by him.  Having sex with him made me feel even closer to him and even more safe.