I stopped sleeping my bed months ago. That's where the rape happened. I remember trying to pretend like everything was okay after. I tried to act as normal as possible.
The worst part is I had to drive the guy home afterwards. Listening to him apologize.
For a month I hyperventalated. Panic attacks, nightmares, flashbacks, uncontrollable crying, and of course the as always grappling with my mortality.
I hadn't told anyone. So they all just thought I went crazy not sleeping for days on end. And if I did manage to sleep an hour or two after guzing down some zquill... (I hated it, it made the nightmare worse) obviously tried every natural sleep remedy, drinking myself to sleep.
I sleep on the couch now. My daughter begs me to come back to our room. She asks questions about how it happened. The only thing I can say is i can't. I can't sleep up there.
And so I'm doomed to sleep restlessly on my couch forever. I wonder if there will ever be a day i won't fear a bed again.
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