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I was on a road trip with a guy I had been dating for a while and we got drunk while staying with one of his friends. I woke up in his friend's bed and later found out my boyfriend at the time had accepted $45 from his friend and let him do anything he wanted to me while I was blacked out. ($ that all I was worth to a man who supposedly loved me?). When I came out of the room, I was screamed at for cheating and being a slut as my boyfriend high-fived his friend for getting me in bed. He blamed me and manipulated me so much that when I called my mom the next day, I was crying asking her how to save my relationship because I slept with his friend. When I said I didn't know or remember what happened, that is when my mom started bawling on the phone and asked if I knew what happened to me. I still don't. A year and a half later, I am still confused. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in a SANE's (Sexual Assault Nurse Practitioner) office thousands of miles from home with a dead phone, alone, sobbing. My SANE found bruises from grabbing, rug burns from being dragged across a carpet, and tearing in my vaginal area. Even so, I still questioned if I was to blame. My SANE got me a cab and a hotel. I waited 16 hours by myself for my dad to drive and pick me up. I felt okay for a few months, but then it all caught up with me. I isolated myself and contemplated suicide. I started seeing a therapist and got on medication. It helped for a while, but a year and a half later I started cutting. It is one of those things that you think you're past until it creeps up on you. It has been almost 2 years and I still question what really happened. I still wonder if I am to blame. I still feel the need to apologize. I still struggle with being intimate and vulnerable in romantic relationships. I struggle with commitment. I struggle with trust. He took so much from me that day. Something that happened over the course of a few hours will stay with me for the rest of my life, and that is the hardest part of it to accept.

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