I was going through my playlist to find a good song for writing on a short story... there's 3000+ songs on the list and somehow one song that shouldn't be there was hiding among them. I just froze completely. I started shivering but couldn't move and I felt a physical pressure... I felt like I was choking. A bit of backstory... I was raped when I was 13 by a mildly retarded young man, I was a virgin (despite being molested at 4 and being put through sexual harassment several times in school because I developed too early)... and I had some unrealistic idea that I wanted to save my virginity for my future husband... Other 13 year old girls talked about sex all the time and what they had done with what boy... and I always found it so gross. My rapist didn't care... and his retardation was no excuse. He had planned to have sex with me; I just don't think he had planned on me not being into it. He was very violent with me and I even stopped fighting... in the end I just started begging him not to make me pregnant at least. I was supposed to sleep at his house (well his foster parents house) that night but I managed to wipe my tears and get my clothes in order and tell his foster mum I was a bit homesick so she had my mum pick me up. I spent ages picking hairs out of my mouth in the bathroom at home, one of his hairs had gotten stuck in my throat. My mum who didn't know anything had happened was yelling at me to hurry up... she always got mad if I took too long in the bathroom. I hid it for so long. I went to school, I did my homework... while I was genuinely scared he had gotten me pregnant. I'd wake up sweaty at night dreaming about either what he did, or that I was pregnant or had a miscarriage in the bathroom. I didn't want anyone to know... I even told the young man after it happened to not tell anyone what 'we' did. I started waking up at night feeling his hands on my arms, hearing his breathing... and I would try to stay awake for as long as possible... I was so scared of falling asleep and having to relive that night. And I would lie, I'd tell teachers I had tried to stay up to watch some TV show if I fell asleep during classes... And I started cutting... I felt like it was the only thing that could take the pressure away, I could 'cut away' the feeling of his horrible sweaty hands. And now my arm is so full of scars and people always have to ask... and all I can do is shrug and say "I was a silly teenager" (also denying the fact that I still sometimes do it) To make matters worse, even after I finally broke down at 16 and told my mother she blamed me, and reminded me not to tell anyone what happened; for his sake! And she still forced me to go to events where he would be... she still randomly keeps me updated about what he's doing with his life. Everytime I see him or even hear about him I get like this... like I am right now... And it's just a song! Britney Spears' 'Everytime'... I would listen to it on repeat back then... it was the soundtrack to my breakdowns. I have never told my friends about it. My LDR boyfriend is the only one who really knows (I told him a lot of my story shortly after we met because I wanted to scare him away)... Last year I reached out to get therapy, I've been in therapy before but never opened up about this issue... the therapist I had the preliminary talk with briefly told me that maybe the abuse wasn't 'that important to work on'... I am still waiting to actually get therapy, I've been on a waiting list since June. Half of my life has passed... and I can still react like this. Grrr. I guess I have to accept somehow that it will never change.