WARNING – This anonymous blog post contains graphic details
I have found sharing my story difficult, writing about my experience of anal rape brought back so many memories. It’s extremely hard to tell someone you have been raped, but when you were It’s extremely hard to tell someone you have been raped, but when you were anally raped it makes it even more difficult as you never know how people will react.
I have never spoken out before to anyone about what happened to me, anal rape isn’t something that is easy to talk about. I still don’t remember how I came to tell Emma, yet I am so pleased as I did. I met Emma when I joined her Facebook support group over 5 years ago now and I have grown to trust her. After telling her, the shame I felt was lifted.
She made me see this was not my shame to carry. I had done nothing wrong. I want to share my experience of anal rape here on the blog and while some may find it upsetting, I only hope that I can help someone else out there who has been through this vile act of abuse.
I was the victim of anal rape
I was 18 when I met him. I was living in a shared house with three other men and my best mate, I had no choice but to live there and was glad my friend had come to me, to be honest. He lived there, upstairs. I wasn’t like most girls my age, I had little experience with boys. I was ugly, tall and awkward, nobody gave me a second look.
My friend and I quickly took control of the house, got it cleaned up, got order into the boy’s chaos and we all got on well. Then one of the upstairs boys tried to rape my friend in a drunken moment and he was thrown out. We laid down rules with the landlord’s consent, the boys were to stay upstairs, the girls downstairs and it seemed to work. During all this *he * would talk to me, make me laugh.
I’m not exactly sure how it happened, but he asked me out. I said yes but there was a lot of pressure from others. There was something about him. It wasn’t right, but I needed to prove I wasn’t a freak, was a bit glad someone wanted me.
This would be the biggest mistake of my life
My mate and I would still go out three times a week. We were on a pub pool team and best of all kept beating the men from the other pubs that competed. We never got drunk, never dressed slutty, we just had a laugh and were seen as fun to be around.
After about a month of being with him, he wanted more than kissing or cuddling and I said no. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about him and wasn’t ready for sex. He stormed out. I decided then it wasn’t fair to string him along and had, to be honest that I didn’t like him enough. He was 32 and needed more. I arranged for everyone to be out the house so we could talk. He came back late that night, let me say everything I had to then shut my door.
I told him to open it then he locked it
I started to panic
He was mad
He told me he had another girlfriend. She was seeing him on the side of her boyfriend and loved having bananas inserted inside her than for him to eat them in sandwiches after. I moved to the door, but he pushed me away.
He told me I owed him and he was taking it
Then he hit me, I blacked out
When I woke up my head was exploding with pain
My hands were tied behind my back and I was blindfolded
The pain down below was beyond anything I had ever imagined
He realized I had woken up and told me to scream
He hit me again
I still refused
Then he moved off me and I heard glass smashing
I was wriggling, trying to get into a corner, but I couldn’t find one. The floor was hard, and he put his full weight on me as he raped me with what he said was a bit of the broken lamp. He ground my face in the broken glass but still I wouldn’t scream. He was biting me, scratching me, cutting me with the glass. I stayed silent.
Over and over again he repeatedly told me I needed to slag myself up for future men. I was praying my housemates would come back. They didn’t. I stopped counting at 13 times then he started anal and it broke me. I screamed. I screamed for my life, for him to stop, for him to kill me, but he didn’t. He only stopped when he said I had stained my carpet enough to look like a murder with all the blood.
He untied me, took my blindfold off and watched me shower in boiling hot water and then watched me clear up the mess. Then he went upstairs and left me. I sat on my bed in agony. Apart from my face nearly my whole body was covered in bite marks and bruises. I knew then I wanted to die. I couldn’t escape. I had nowhere to go.
I lasted a month before I felt something in my brain just let go and I was picked up by police walking round at 4 am wrapped in my quilt. I was unresponsive, just walking.
I had blood dripping from my arms, from cutting up and I was covered in white spirit
They arrested me and sectioned me
I slept in hospital for a week
Then I opened my eyes and asked where I was. I had no clue. Four weeks on the bite marks were fading, the vaginal and anal bleeding had stopped. I had needed stitches as he had ripped me wide open and my anal scars were infected when he used pieces of glass to cut me. I was calm and able to talk more than a sentence.
Then one day I walked past the new arrivals room.I heard his voice. He was in there. He looked up, saw me and laughed. I backed away and a member of staff saw me and instantly took me to a safe room. I said two words when she asked what had happened. She said I looked more frightened than anything she had ever seen.
I looked her in the eyes for the first time and said * that’s him*. She cried. She took me into the staff room surrounded by staff, locked the door, got me some medication to calm me down and told her staff they had a situation. I had to tell them his full name, his birthday and they all stood there shocked. This had never happened.
They arranged for him to be taken to another hospital as I was their first priority then two people stayed with me at all times. One member of staff went to him and he told them it was true and he was here to see if I had killed myself or not. Then he walked straight out of the ward laughing, pushing a female member of staff and the Dr as he went. The Doctor apologized to me. He was my Doctor too and had recognized the name was familiar but had not made the connection.
The male member of staff that had been with him sat next to me and held my hand. They were all shocked and couldn’t think how to make me feel safe now.
I knew it wasn’t their fault, but that was it:
My last hope was gone
I tried to hang myself
I tried to cut my wrists
I tried to set myself on fire
They sent me to a ward where I had 4 members of staff at all times with me. I broke my toothbrush and tried to slash at my throat. I tried to electrocute myself, jump out of the window. Anything to die. I refused food for a week. I refused liquids for four days full they put me on a drip. I tore my hair out.
Eventually, I ran out of options and could only go up. It took till I was 21 and then I was released for the last time. By then I had met my partner. He was a Psych nurse, but not mine, there was an instant connection. He knew everything bad and still talked to me, he helped me, treated me like a human being. Six months after I was released we got together. He took it slow, everything was done at my pace.
Eleven years on we are still together. We have five kids and I can honestly say he saved me. I don’t regret what happened to me, anal rape was horrific, but I lived. I have my man and my kids and that’s all that matters. I’m glad he’s the only man I will ever sleep with. He’s the only man I will ever trust.
Like they say after a hurricane comes a rainbow.
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