It was almost four years ago when I was a freshman in college that my world was flipped upside down and I was raped in the bedroom of a frat house. I'll spare you the details of my assault because quite frankly, they don't really matter. What matters is the way it changed me and gave me something I'll deal with for the rest of my life. I realize that I can't speak for all assault victims, but I write this with hopes of reaching out to others who may be going through the same thing I am.

Although my assault happened almost four years ago, I never dealt with it until just this past year when I started seeing a therapist. I brushed it under the rug for three years because I thought, "this happens to people and they turn out fine. I shouldn't have been that drunk anyway." This toxic way of thinking led me to hit rock bottom. I gained almost fifty pounds so that I could avoid being found attractive by the wrong people, and I developed severe anxiety and PTSD. Self confidence was always a struggle for me growing up, so I just assumed that the anxiety and continuing self doubt was a result of the new weight gain. No matter what the situation was that presented itself, my outlook always went to the worst possible outcome. This was mostly evident in my relationship with my boyfriend, Ryan. For the life of me I could not figure out or understand why he wanted to be with me. I had such a low self image that I couldn't fathom the idea of someone actually loving me for who I am. I literally felt worthless of any kind of love or affection.

But it was more than that. I would skip class because I was so anxious that someone was going to think my outfit looked weird or that my professor would call on me and I wouldn't be prepared. I would miss out on social events because I was afraid of being judged and I hated every piece of clothing that I put on my body. I have a great support system made up of friends, family, and sorority sisters that would all be there to help me, or even just listen to me rant about my feelings, in a second if I needed them. And yet I never did. I always felt like no one could relate so they would think I'm over exaggerating or not really believe that I was that feeling that way. I had completely blocked myself off from all kind of emotional connection with other people.

At my lowest point, I even accused Ryan (who, by the way, treats me like a princess) of cheating on me with one of my best friends. I felt literally felt like I was going crazy. I had absolutely nothing to justify these feelings. Nothing had ever happened to me in previous experiences that would make me think things like being judged or my boyfriend cheating would ever happen "again". I thought that since it had been so long since I was raped, and I didn't think about it often anymore, it had just gone away. I could not have been more wrong.

Once I hit my lowest point, Ryan essentially gave me an ultimatum. Go to therapy and get the help I need, or he couldn't do it anymore. He knows me better than I know myself and he'd known that was what I needed for almost our entire relationship. I couldn't imagine losing him, so I went. At first, I went just because it's what he asked me to do, not because I thought it was something I really needed. But the more sessions I attended and the more issues we dug up, the more I wish I had gone so much earlier.

To get down to the bottom of it, and so I could really begin to heal, I had to treat this as if my assault had just happened and reopen old wounds that I thought had been sewn shut. I had to grieve the loss of the person I could have been if I was never assaulted. This is probably the hardest part for me to accept. As I still struggle with unexplained feelings of sadness or anxiety, I can't help but think "I shouldn't have to feel this way. I shouldn't have to be so miserable. I should not have to go through this." I know that's not the right mind set to have, but the thought that he (my attacker) is out there just living life without even a mere thought of me while I struggle every single day just drives me insane. I could have a healthier relationship with Ryan and we could be at a completely different point in our relationship by now. The fun loving and outgoing front that I put up when I'm around people could be real. I could be much healthier and happier with my body. I know I can get there some day, but for now I have to deal with the lost time.

Another thing I learned (and I still practice every day) through therapy is how to literally retrain my brain to think differently. Instead of creating these negative thoughts, I have to remind myself of the truth-- that I am loved and wanted by so many people in my life. I have to learn to not jump to negative conclusions and think about the other positive possibilities that come along with a situation. For example, if one of my roommates would come home and be in a bad mood, I instantly jumped to "Oh god what did I do? Why is she so annoyed with me? I knew I was annoying." When in reality, she most likely just had a long day on campus and was dealing with very normal college student stresses.

I know that I can and will get past this in time, but for now I continue to go to therapy and make sure that I remember to lean on people sometimes. We're all human and everyone needs a shoulder to cry on every once in a while--and that's okay.