My grandfather had Alzheimer's for as long as I could remember. Sometimes he was there and other times he was in 1973, it was always uncertain if he was lucid or not. It was A game of Russian Roulette and I guess I was the unlucky one who got shot. The summer I was 11 was a summer of firsts, my first period, my first boyfriend and it was also the summer where my life forever changed. We were visiting my grandparents for the Fourth of July so we stayed at their house. My brother and sister slept beside me on the living room floor while my parents slept in the guest room. My grandfathers room was right across the hall from the bathroom. I woke up around 2:30am and went to the restroom in a silent house. Everyone was sleeping- or so I thought. I opened the door and there he was, my grandfather telling me to go outside and to hurry. I didn't question him, I simply followed his orders. It was humid and I don't really remember what happened or how it happened, but he raped me that night. He covered my mouth and told me to never tell anyone and it'll be our little secret. I didn't scream or try to fight back, I just laid there, helplessly. That night has stuck with me for seven long years. I had nightmares over and over and over again. I went through a state of denial where I didn't believe it and where I blamed myself or his sickness for his actions. I didn't realize I was spiraling into a depression it'd take years to crawl out of. I didn't tell anyone until except for my best friend three years later. He has helped me through everything and I'm so thankful for him. After my denial phase I went through an angry phase, except I was angry at myself. I punished myself for what he did to me. I started to self-harm. I would find and use anything to cut myself with, on my thighs, my arms, my stomach. And when that wasn't enough I starved myself and made myself throw up anything I ate. This lasted for about three years. So that puts us to this year, senior year. I had finally overcome everything when this boy started to mess with me. He'd walk by me and say "nice titties" or "nice rack" and "big tits." He'd grab my sides from behind and if I ever bent over he was behind me. I felt like crap about myself and my body and when I finally got the courage to tell my principal he said "try not to put yourself in that situation" and "don't give him the wrong idea" as if saying no over and over isn't enough. The boy never got in trouble and it lead to feelings of worthlessness and sadness and brought back my depression. I started self harming and throwing up again. It took my best friend to pull me back. Although I still struggle with eating and throwing up, I haven't self harmed in 3 months. I'm also in therapy and am on medication. For all of you reading this, reading my story, I want you to know that you are worth it. You are not what someone says about you. You are not what your parents say in fits of rage. You are beautiful. You are wonderful. You are powerful and you are strong. God bless and keep fighting your fight.
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