You are either a BITCH or a SLUT
This is not a pretty post. Its ugly and sad and full of anger, I'm just warning you so you're not disappointed. This happened a couple years ago.
I came out of boot camp bright eyed and bushy tailed. Every morning I felt like a newborn, overwhelmed with the excitement that life brought. I went on my first patrol in the coast guard a month later.I was happy and excited to learn. I was childlike and naive. Innocent.
My first portcall was in Honduras. The rule was law of the land, so even though I was only 20, I was allowed to drink. I took advantage of the opportunity and drank very heavily. I had fun.At some point I make it up to my hotel room. (The crew was staying at an all inclusive resort) A couple guys from my boat end up stopping by. I was wasted. That didn't stop them from asking me of I wanted to have a three some. And it didn't stop me from saying yes. I couldn't feel anything. Physically or emotionally. It didn't last long and soon they were gone, and I was back to drunkenly wandering around the resort.
Later that evening I came across another shipmates. This was someone in my department. Someone who had been kind to me my first week at my new unit. He asked me if I was okay and I told him no, that I was shitfaced. He proceeded to tell me that my dress was dirty and that I needed to go change it. I looked down and saw that it was clean, but I knew I was drunk and I trusted him to look out for me (like what they taught us in bootcamp). He helped me up the stairs to my hotel room. Once inside I couldn't remember why we were there. I do remember looking around the dark room and out the window at the palm trees. It was so quiet. He told me that we were there because I was going to take my dress off. I knew that wasn't right, so I told him as much. I felt dizzy and proceeded to lean against the bed. From what I remember, be came over, lifted me on the bed, pulled my panties aside and began to have sex with me. I couldn't move, but I didn't say no (as the investigators liked to point out). I did tell him that someone was going to see us through the curtains in the window.
I tried to tell my legs to get the fuck out of there, but they wouldn't do anything. I just staired at his Georgia peach tattoo. The thought of his southern accent still makes me cringe.Eventually my body listened to my head and I got up and ran out the door. I didn't stop until I got to my friends hotel room where I felt like I would be safe.
I went inside and told my girlfriend and another guy that we worked with what happened. We all went to bed, except I didn't fall asleep.
As I had started to sober up, the reality of what had happened that evening crushed my soul.
The guy that I was laying next to work up and asked if I wanted to sleep with him. My exact thought was "one more doesn't even matter now". So we had sex, until he fell asleep on top of me. I could smell the rum oozing from his pores. It made me sick.
The next day as I went back on my boat and we got underway, rumors spread. My idea of a cure was to pretend like nothing happened. I worked with all these guys for the next 2 years. I endured a lot of sexual harassment during that time. Some guys tried to hook up with me and then called me a bitch when I didn't want to. Somone tried to trick me into staying at their house overnight with the promise that they wouldn't try anything with me. Someone I looked up to assumed that because I flirted with him while drunk two users ago, that I would hook up with him on my boat while on duty. Someone way higher ranking than me followed me into the bathroom, pushed me against the wall and shoved his tongue down my throat and my hands down his pants.
Still I'm the bitch. I'm the slut. I led ALL these people on. its my fault I was raped by my shipmate, and then again by a different one when we got back into port. Oh its my fault because I was drinking and subsequently had a drinking problem. That's what the military told me when I asked for mental help due to the sexual assaults and instead they send me to rehab. I did eventually get the help I needed, but I never got that light back. That blissful feeling deep in my soul that told me I was going to change the world someday.
I know I'm not the only one that has had these experiences. Whether it was in the military or in college, work, or even home life.
I am beyond humiliated over the choices I've made, but I know that sharing it means someone else out there is feeling less alone.
There is a statistic that 22 veterans commit suicide every day. Just so you are aware, you don't have to go to war to feel dead inside.
#girls #sexuality #military #suicide #blog
It's not your fault
thanks for being brave and sharing your story.