I uh....I don't have anywhere else to go with this. I'm brand new to this forum and dealing with some symptoms of anxiety and depression that have chased me my whole life. I don't really like to draw attention to myself in the world, but I just need to put these thoughts somewhere. I need to have it written somewhere and hope that some one finds it relatable. I am seeking help within the next couple of weeks, and I hope this post might help you. (Although it is quite long and a bit angry) After reading a few posts, this really does feel like a safe place and I just need to tell some one. I was raped. It was about seven or eight years ago, and I was not forcibly raped. It wasn’t violent. In fact, I didn’t think to call it rape until several years later when I was reading an article about “aquaintence rape” I never really thought of the night in question as such because I did eventually say yes because I was too exhausted to fight with my boyfriend anymore. I’d been disregarded and verbally abused all night and I had been working double shifts back to back all weekend. I knew he was excited about a show of his he had written and was getting space to produce it. [hooray] HOWEVER, the bar tabs had often been mine to pay. The cigarettes were apparently mine to share. When he did occasionally pay for things, he’d make fun of my choices. When I was too exhausted for the breath support for speech, it is certainly not something I’m easily able to hide (or so I’m told). When he wanted to go out, I told him to go on without me because I was too tired to stand any longer. Eventually, he somehow talked me into a "celebration" drink. We go to a dive and he orders some form of gin (we love ourselves a good cliche). I had a voka seven. The bartender pours a vodka soda, but I was too tired to drink and my drinks were on the house anyway. NOW, I’ve got exhaustion, a pushy boyfriend, and a skeezy bartender buying me drinks in front of the pushy boyfriend. THE BOYFRIEND ENCOURAGES SKEEZY BARTENDER SO HE CAN DRINK THE COCKTAILS I DON’T WANT. This was not a "aren't we being clever" situation. I was a waitress and I didn't need to fucking flirt for my money OR my cocktails. By this point I was being pushed around by two aggressive pigs and still too tired to fight back. When he started “playfully” pushing me out of the way of the jukebox after I’d just fed it....well that was quite enough. If I was gonna have a shitty night, I was at least going to have good music. Skeezy douchebag boyfriend cannot FATHOM why I’m so angry. In the cab on the ride home, I’m nearly asleep and hear “I love you even though you wanted to take a cab”. MIND YOU, a cab I WAS PAYING FOR. Of course he was going to want sex when we got home. OF COURSE. I told him no in the cab and kept insisting while in bed. Now here’s where the fine line between rape and “rolling over and taking it just to get some fucking sleep” comes in. I mean...because that’s what happened. I was working so much because I did want to have some things which were my own. I’d hate to think that anyone could make me be a less giving person, but perhaps it has happened. I hadn’t even thought about the incident until I read this article on accquaintence rape. Now I can’t stop reliving it. Honestly, I don’t even remember the sex. Hell, the sex in that relationship was probably the only good thing about it (you know, the other times). It wasn’t so much the act as it was how I was treated the whole night and how it’s become a haunting experience for me still. Even if you do eventually succumb in the name of exhaustion, there's still the element of how you are made to feel before and after the fact. I just need this feeling to end. I need to heal. I just don’t know how. I don’t know which came first, the cycle of depression or the rape? Perhaps a bit of both. So that's my story. (pending mod approval) I hope I'll figure out what to do with it.