The Past

It seems that the past always knocks me for a loop.  Yesterday, I attended an educational conference in my former college town.  I was very excited about both the conference and returning to my former stomping grounds – I haven’t been back since I graduated 11 years ago.  The conference was very informative and I learned a lot.  Afterwards, I went to campus to walk around.  I was really enjoying myself, remembering people and places.  Not all of them were good memories, but the experience was enjoyable.  As I was leaving, I took a wrong turn.  I knew immediately what I had done and looked for a street sign of the crossing street.  And suddenly, I saw it.  An apartment building like so many others on college campuses – slightly run down, very basic and sterile.  The difference between this apartment building and any other is that this is the apartment building where I was raped 14 years ago.  I turned the corner and parked my car.  I couldn’t breathe and I felt like I was going to vomit.  My hands were shaking and sweating.  I could feel the shadows swallowing me whole.  That horrible night replayed in my mind as if it was yesterday.  I don’t know how long I sat there, but I slowly began to realize I was driving out of town.  The further away I got, the better I started to feel.

I can admit now that I didn’t deal with it at the time.  I was young and very naive and just wanted the whole thing to go away.  For 14 years I have put that night in its own little box in my mind.  I think I have treated it as if it happened to someone else, like a story a friend had told me.  It may not have been the healthy way to deal with it, but I didn’t know any other way at the time.  And since then, it’s not something I really think about.

I plan on talking to my therapist about it next week.  I’m not sure what he’ll say or what will happen now, but I have a feeling that some of the issues I’m trying to deal with now are connected to that night.

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1 Comment

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One response to “The Past

  1. That’s a difficult experience to let simmer in a box for 14 years. I hope in talking to your therapist you can eventually open the box and find it mostly empty.

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