I told myself that I was better. The flashbacks stopped a few days ago. I am a few notches away from manic on the happiness scale. Then I see an image, exactly like the logo he had on his shirt the day he took advantage of me. I tell myself that I am better because maybe if I tell myself that then I will become better.

I tell myself that I will be OK.

I hold the armrests on the seat tight, close my eyes, and clench my teeth and breathe. I hold myself back from inflicting the pain I feel. I feel a knife hit my chest and it hits hard, the kind of feeling you get when you’re winded on the playground. Only on a playground you get pushed backwards.

This pain I feel does not go away and every movement makes it worse like I need to put a dagger where I feel it to relieve the pain. I am not having a panic attack. This is not a time for an Ativan or a Xanax. I just want to die. Yes, I think of what I would be leaving and who I’d be leaving behind, but really i cannot put into words what I feel.

Worthless? Degraded? Ugly? Dumb? Weak? Fat?

I am just another girl who was raped.

People can tell me over and over again how terrible what I went through was. Thanks for the affirmation.

Now what?