My Hardest "Spot of Time"

Hi friends!

For one of my other classes, we had a forum prompt to share a "spot of time" in our life, a moment we remember like it was yesterday. Everyone's responses were so genuine and vulnerable, and I wanted to play off of that prompt in my blog this week.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of sexual violence. 

Many of my spots of time look the same--empty. The uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach seems to be here to stay, but the memories themselves have vanished, almost as if they never happened. Almost.

I was raped at 18, my freshman year of college. My mind has been evolving in ways I never knew were possible since then. The first thing taken was my ability to connect. I have always been a walking heart, an empath. I fell in love with people and their stories daily. I have vivid memories of how I met and grew to love each of my friends, and I have specific, unnameable emotions attached to every person I know. I'm now able to turn my feelings off entirely. Sometimes it even happens without my permission. Sometimes, in moments I know I would typically mourn or feel extreme pain, I feel nothing. I think this is my body's way of protecting me, but it often hurts more than feeling the actual pain would.

The next thing taken was my memory. I've had slight memory struggles my whole life. My dad has a chronic illness, and I witnessed some horrible scenes growing up. My mind forgot them to protect me. I "remember" what happened because my family told me, but there are chunks of time in my life, some lasting several months to years, that I have no memory of. The assault made it worse. I've forgotten many details of the assault itself and the weeks and months surrounding it, but it has also spread to my short term memory. I don't remember anything I don't write down (you'll believe this if you've ever seen the detail of my planner). I used to show affection by remembering the details--birthdays, someone's favorite candy, a big job interview my friend had coming up. I remember none of it now. Nothing.

It almost took my writing. I would still say that I have a unique aptitude when it comes to creativity, but my writing used to be even more of a miracle. My favorite piece of myself. In high school, my teachers would ask me to edit paperwork for them because I never missed anything. I would never proofread my papers because I almost never made grammar mistakes, and I say that with humility. I had this amazing ability to perfectly transfer my thoughts onto paper seamlessly. Now, my mom constantly calls me because the one-sentence texts I send her don't even make sense. Writing was never hard for me before. It's now difficult for me to even read and comprehend a novel on my best days, let alone write my own thoughts about it. I've stayed up staring at my computer screen for hours because I couldn't formulate the thoughts to answer a simple essay prompt. This is the most devastating piece of it all. What used to be my escape is now one of my greatest challenges, but I refuse to give up because I have hope that it will someday get better.

I chose this specific spot of time because, although my memory has failed me on the specific details, it's the moment that has had the greatest impact on who I am and how I'm able to live. I have other, brighter spots too, but I wanted to share this because I felt led to, and I've never felt that before. Thanks for the vulnerability that many of you have had when sharing in your blogs this semester. I still feel like we're very connected, despite the physical distance between us. You all continue to inspire me!