Nikki Carter
New Here
I don't really know where to begin, but here it is.
I was raised by my mother and father, it was the typical immigrant up raising; perfection was the standard. My sisters and I grew up knowing what falling below the standard meant, it meant we'd be slapped, whipped, and degraded until we broke. We were "omelet kids" beat until we were perfect. To be honest, the beatings weren't the worst parts, I found that after a while they all felt the same, the worst part was what would be said. The words my father used to break me became the same words that would echo through my mind for the rest of my life. They became the same words my ex would use to remind me I could never be good enough. They became the same words that made me believe I deserved it.
Fast forward to university. I don't usually date during the school year, because of my demanding program, but I made an exception. She was nice, kinda awkward, had a similar childhood, and treated me like I was special. At first. Then, everything minor "flaw" I had became an issue, my GPA wasn't high enough, my body wasn't thin enough, I never wanted to have sex enough. But she only pointed those things out because she "wanted me to be better". I would cry, threaten to end it, or tell her I deserved better, then she would be; for a bit. Then it would get worse. She would tell me about hooking up with other girls, then blame me for it. She would tell me I was a waste of her time, that I needed her, that I wasn't as good as the other girls. Overtime I felt numb. There were a few instances where I would call her out for trying to penetrate me after I said no. She'd say it couldn't be rape, because we were both women, because we'd had sex in the past, because there would be no proof. One night after I said no, she raped me. I went numb. After that I didn't want her to touch me, when she wanted sex I would give her what she wanted and just say I was tired. I wasn't tired. I was f*cking dead inside. I felt like less than I ever had before. And every night she would tell me how happy she was now. She was so happy I was broken, she was so happy I carved lines into my skin to let the pain out, she was so happy I was hollow. I couldn't cry near her or she'd yell and slam doors, so I'd cry after she fell asleep beside me.
One night I told my friend the whole story, it was almost midnight. After I told her everything, she asked me what I would say to her if a guy treated her like that. I ran to my now ex's place and ended it on the spot. After that I kept receiving calls and messages from her starting with asking where she went wrong, and ending with how she was better off without me. Our mutual friends all took the "we werent there" stance and didnt believe me. I was alone.
She was on a co-op term so I wouldn't see her at school. I though I was handling it fine, until she started showing up "to visit friends" on campus and I realized my reaction to seeing her wasn't healthy. I couldn't breathe, I was panicking, I wanted to cry, scream, and fight whenever she would walk by. I went through a stressful semester where I had 4 engineering exams in 3 days so I spent most of my time on campus studying. I was constantly afraid I would see her. I started to lose my hair, my weight, and my mind. And no one understood me. They all thought I was just jealous she was seeing one of the girls she had cheated on me with. I couldn't sleep so I started drinking cough syrup to fall asleep, the pain inside still hurt so I constantly carried blades and bandages on me for when I needed to realease the pain. My hair stopped growing and my wounds stopped healing, I was a mess. Until I flew out of the province for winter break.
After a couple months of continuing my coping habits and a few close "fight or flight" calls where I had almost hurt people for touching me, I knew there was a problem. I was recommended to a CBT Institute and started treatment. I was diagnosed with PTSD, and also received exposure therapy. I recently finished my last session. I no longer cut, drink cough syrup, or use any self harming practices to release my anxiety. I now run, meditate, and manage my schedule so that I don't panic. I can now sit in lectures with my ex and only feel a slight panic when she looks at me, laughs, or smiles at me.
To be honest, I don't believe my body is capable of distinguishing between sex and assault yet so I haven't been intimate with anyone since. I keep a small circle now, I no longer spend time with the people from before. I'd like to have a loving relationship some day, but for now I still struggle with letting anyone touch me.
I was raised by my mother and father, it was the typical immigrant up raising; perfection was the standard. My sisters and I grew up knowing what falling below the standard meant, it meant we'd be slapped, whipped, and degraded until we broke. We were "omelet kids" beat until we were perfect. To be honest, the beatings weren't the worst parts, I found that after a while they all felt the same, the worst part was what would be said. The words my father used to break me became the same words that would echo through my mind for the rest of my life. They became the same words my ex would use to remind me I could never be good enough. They became the same words that made me believe I deserved it.
Fast forward to university. I don't usually date during the school year, because of my demanding program, but I made an exception. She was nice, kinda awkward, had a similar childhood, and treated me like I was special. At first. Then, everything minor "flaw" I had became an issue, my GPA wasn't high enough, my body wasn't thin enough, I never wanted to have sex enough. But she only pointed those things out because she "wanted me to be better". I would cry, threaten to end it, or tell her I deserved better, then she would be; for a bit. Then it would get worse. She would tell me about hooking up with other girls, then blame me for it. She would tell me I was a waste of her time, that I needed her, that I wasn't as good as the other girls. Overtime I felt numb. There were a few instances where I would call her out for trying to penetrate me after I said no. She'd say it couldn't be rape, because we were both women, because we'd had sex in the past, because there would be no proof. One night after I said no, she raped me. I went numb. After that I didn't want her to touch me, when she wanted sex I would give her what she wanted and just say I was tired. I wasn't tired. I was f*cking dead inside. I felt like less than I ever had before. And every night she would tell me how happy she was now. She was so happy I was broken, she was so happy I carved lines into my skin to let the pain out, she was so happy I was hollow. I couldn't cry near her or she'd yell and slam doors, so I'd cry after she fell asleep beside me.
One night I told my friend the whole story, it was almost midnight. After I told her everything, she asked me what I would say to her if a guy treated her like that. I ran to my now ex's place and ended it on the spot. After that I kept receiving calls and messages from her starting with asking where she went wrong, and ending with how she was better off without me. Our mutual friends all took the "we werent there" stance and didnt believe me. I was alone.
She was on a co-op term so I wouldn't see her at school. I though I was handling it fine, until she started showing up "to visit friends" on campus and I realized my reaction to seeing her wasn't healthy. I couldn't breathe, I was panicking, I wanted to cry, scream, and fight whenever she would walk by. I went through a stressful semester where I had 4 engineering exams in 3 days so I spent most of my time on campus studying. I was constantly afraid I would see her. I started to lose my hair, my weight, and my mind. And no one understood me. They all thought I was just jealous she was seeing one of the girls she had cheated on me with. I couldn't sleep so I started drinking cough syrup to fall asleep, the pain inside still hurt so I constantly carried blades and bandages on me for when I needed to realease the pain. My hair stopped growing and my wounds stopped healing, I was a mess. Until I flew out of the province for winter break.
After a couple months of continuing my coping habits and a few close "fight or flight" calls where I had almost hurt people for touching me, I knew there was a problem. I was recommended to a CBT Institute and started treatment. I was diagnosed with PTSD, and also received exposure therapy. I recently finished my last session. I no longer cut, drink cough syrup, or use any self harming practices to release my anxiety. I now run, meditate, and manage my schedule so that I don't panic. I can now sit in lectures with my ex and only feel a slight panic when she looks at me, laughs, or smiles at me.
To be honest, I don't believe my body is capable of distinguishing between sex and assault yet so I haven't been intimate with anyone since. I keep a small circle now, I no longer spend time with the people from before. I'd like to have a loving relationship some day, but for now I still struggle with letting anyone touch me.
