Picking up from yesterday –
So, to bring the tiniest bit of context I can – after my first exceptionally uncomfortable situation with him – one that, at the time, I hadn’t yet labeled as the “‘big bad word’ assault” (because I just kept thinking about how he was trying to be “sweet.”
Or I’d think about how he was just being a man who didn’t listen to me…”He’s just a rude guy not listening to me, that’s within the spectrum of normal,” I’d think… (Even though completely ignoring my boundaries is kind of a big part of the definition or assault)…)
Anyway, between the two times it happened, I felt a little less comfortable around him in general. As you’ve potentially read, I was still gung ho about “making it work.” …Because if that exceptionally uncomfortable unfortunate night “could only have a fairy tale ending, it wouldn’t seem so bad.” (Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself.)
But desperately wanting to “make it work” – trying to be nice to him and repair things in private, didn’t make it easy to want to see him in public when I was still kind of jumpy around him. I will admit, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it became after that second assault. But I was definitely uncomfortable around him, nonetheless.
There was even one time (in those 3 weeks between assaults) where we’d had an argument the night before I had class, and he was being so belittling, condescending (and on and on – just all the words I could possibly use to describe making me feel awful)… (I get sick about it thinking it about it even still.)
And back then, I ended up spending the whole night puking. Every hour I’d wake up to puke. I didn’t really sleep. It was awful. My stomach/body just couldn’t take the stress of being with him anymore – of being terrified of saying the wrong thing and being punished over and over for it… It just felt like every time I tried to diffuse a situation, that situation just exploded anyway. And I couldn’t figure out how to make things better – or why they kept getting worse.
And of course, the intense feeling was even worse (way worse) based on the assault that had only recently happened in my bed.
One thing I’m not positive I’ve said in these posts, but I’ve said in life at least, is it’s like someone giving me a third degree burn on my arm (with the assault), and then poking my arm, or grabbing it (with little fights or disagreements), as it’s trying to heal. Our fights and misunderstandings and such between assaults, or even after the second assault, looked at by themselves may not have been so bad.
If you were to just grab my arm in normal life, depending on how you grab it, it might be a little uncomfortable or a little jarring, but ultimately it’s not that big of a deal. If I have a third degree burn on my arm and you grab it, it’s excruciating. And I felt like that’s what was happening here. The assault was the burn and everything else just kept it from healing… (I don’t know if that makes sense.)
Anyway, so the day after the full night of puking, I barely made it to work, and I went home early from BMI that night. I signed in, stayed for the first part of class, then went and held my head over a toilet during break, feeling so sick. And then I left.
So obviously, him being in my life was greatly affecting me (in a very negative way). And it contributed to me missing class time. Didn’t help that I may or may not have seen him around the building that night which just ratcheted up my sickness level.
In my journal from that time, I call it “heartwrenching” to feel like the one person in New York who really seemed to have my back, and reach out to the “new girl,” really hurt me.
The first class I had after the first assault was happened to be a night that a bunch of people went to see a musical together… And I didn’t go.
In the post that mentions that night (within my big BMI story), I say, “no one’s trying to ostracize me. I’m doing it to myself.”And that maybe didn’t make wild sense at the time. “Why would you ostracize yourself?”
And I think the short answer is because it’s only half true that I was ostracizing myself…
How much of me not going was because of my embarrassment about my standing in my class, and how much was because I felt so massively uncomfortable around this man who was going to the musical that night as well? It’s hard to say. He was such a large part of my BMI experience that even though I tried to compartmentalize and keep it all separate, I don’t know 100% if I can…
I didn’t skip going to one musical purely because of him… But I did feel pretty darn ostracized – even more so soon after… after that second assault. And I’ll get into that more tomorrow.