People used to call my mom that. From what I have heard she would
throw tantrums where she would lie on her back kicking and screaming
yelling, "get away from me!!!" and then "come back!!" That's kind of how
I feel.
I went a little crazy on facebook. I was so
angry and hurt because all these wonderful people, some of whom I barely
knew (or in the case of the pages of my friends who shared my blog - I
didn't know at all), were offering me so much love and support for
speaking out while my family remained silent. Whenever I tell anyone
now-a-days, they always ask me why my family continued to associate with
him for all these years. I never have an answer. I know some of them
don't want to turn their back on family, but that feels like turning
their back on me and who would want to consider such a monster a part of
their family? And why did it only stop when I started taking a stand?
Why were there years of Christmases after they knew with him there? Why
did they beg me to stay when I told them I wanted to leave before he got
there? I want them to answer this. It doesn't matter if I said I was ok, it should not have been ok with them.
Finally, an aunt
of mine broke the ice and very bravely commented on my outrage post. She
didn't say it outright, but she was hurt. I hadn't really considered
her fully part of my anger until she, like the rest of them didn't
comment on my blog for support. People who hadn't known until they read
the post were immediately giving me support and people who had known for
10-12 years were saying nothing. I thought that because she was across
the country and didn't have any event to invite him to that her being
friends with him on Facebook and not telling him directly that what he
did was wrong meant that she didn't care enough to fight for me. I was
hurt. I wish I hadn't hurt her though.
Then she told me things I
hadn't known, like that she was only friends with him to make sure he
wasn't talking about me. (I guess if Zac is reading this the cat is out
of the bag, but that's ok with me) I didn't know what to say about that.
I didn't really want to spy on him. What he says doesn't matter to
me...but I do want to know if anyone else in my life is agreeing with
him. I do want to spy on them....but I think the easier thing to do, is
to just make people choose and stay away from those who still choose to
associate with him, even on facebook.
She told me other things too,
like that she anonymously reported him. I'm not surprised that it wasn't
followed up on appropriately by the authorities...rape isn't taken
nearly seriously enough.
I did tell people not to do anything,
not to report it, not to tell. I begged them actually. I was 18 and 19
when I was telling people and it had only just ended the winter/spring
before I was 19 (my birthday is in Aug). I was too messed up to
understand what I was costing myself and others by not even trying to
get him on a sex offender list. I was too scared of what might happen
and I don't really have a lot of trust or faith in authority figures. We
had a neighbor in our apartment complex whose girlfriend called the
cops because he was suicidal. They shot his dog. I was like, "well if he
wasn't suicidal before...." Now I didn't have a dog to shoot, and I
wasn't suicidal, but the unpredictability of it terrified me. I had no
idea what would happen. Would they be the types of cops who listened and
cared or the type who wore the badge just to get the authority and the
gun? Those cops would relate to my rapist more than me. Would they just
shrug and tell me this was a "he said she said" case and there was
nothing they could do? Or would there be a huge trial where I would have
to stand up and tell everyone what happened? Admit to everyone that I
said it was ok? That I didn't fight? That even though I said no, I still
ended up giving in so I had let it all happen? And even worse, that it
had started to be ok, that it really was just "whatever"? The very last
time he had sex with me he had pulled out and came in my pants. He
patted my butt then laughed and said that was too mean, he would get me
some paper towels. I was so numb I had no idea that it even was mean. It
was all just "whatever". If forcing me to have sex with him wasn't
mean, why was it mean to cum in my pants? I needed someone to know
everything I said and did and tell me none of it was my fault, but I was
too scared to give a voice to that...too ashamed that they might say
the opposite because I thought the opposite. In my mind, I let it all
happen, and if everyone knew all the details, they might think that too.
I
was dating my first husband at the time and here's where I need to take
a step back. My first husband was Zac's best friend that I mentioned in
the Party post. I'll give you a second to let that sink in....he was
Zac's best friend. At the party, he had thought I was hitting on him
because I drunkenly told him 5 or 6 times how great his hair looked
since he had cut it short and gotten rid of the Jesus look. An
understandable misunderstanding if there ever was one. He told one of my
cousins, or they caught him looking at me and teased him, something
like that....and my cousin told me on a night of another party where I
was going to see him again. The spider monkey who had been impressed
with Zac's tipping was out of my life and I had a sudden inspiration.
This was Zac's best friend whom he loved...the only person Zac
loved, many said. The moral compass who could influence Zac to make him
less evil. Zac would not want this best friend of his to find out what
he was doing to me. If this best friend of his loved me, he would
protect me better than anyone else!
We met him at the bowling
alley and he was standing in line to pay for everyone's rentals while
they hung out and drank beer at a table. If I knew now what I knew then,
I would have seen that they had confused goodness and being a pushover.
I didn't know, and I confused the two myself. I offered to wait with
him and we talked a little. He was really nice. He was nine years older
than me so he seemed so different from nice guys in high school...he
wasn't afraid to talk to me and seemed so smart and witty. I started to
feel guilty. He was a really nice guy and I couldn't just use him....but
then he started to win at bowling and it was PISSING. ZAC. OFF. Every
time he bowled a strike, Zac got madder and madder and it was intoxicating!
I felt so much love and lust for this person who was making Zac feel
powerless and small. I wanted him. From my first husband's perspective,
here was that hot chick from the party who seemed to like him and
practically radiated every time he made a strike. Poor guy. He told me
that he couldn't help falling in love with those smiles and with all the
emotions that were behind him, I can't blame him.
After he kicked
Zac's butt at bowling, the guys all decided the next stop was a strip
club. My cousin who had given me a ride wasn't interested though and
said he was going home. This was my chance. I turned to Zac's best
friend and asked if he would give me a ride. He said sure and Zac was
livid. "She voted for Bush, you know!" His best friend shrugged and
grinned and went to return his shoes and I felt elated. (Also, if I knew
then what I knew now, I would have known what a big deal that was...I am
so ashamed of my fundamentalist christian vote.) I had to stay with
this man with this power to hurt Zac. I should have stayed with him
right then because before I turned away Zac grabbed me. "I will let you
go and I will pay your forty dollar entry fee (I was under 21) if you
have sex with me tonight."
As I saw things, Zac was offering to
sell me his best friend for one last time. I wish I had seen what Zac
saw though, which was that he was going to lose his best friend either
way and this was his last chance.
Why didn't I just go home
afterwards? Why didn't I break that agreement? Because if I did, I
thought Zac would have talked his best friend out of liking me. I
thought he would say horrible things about me and tell him what a slut I
was and that this nice guy would run screaming for the hills. I was
wrong. Agreement or not, Zac and his parents said all those things to my
first husband anyway and he simply ignored them.
