*NOTE* I finally got around to posting this about a week and a half after the events written about took place.

I am now on my umpteenth attempt at blogging, hopefully this time I will succeed. Yesterday I was released from the hospital after a brief stint that I was forced to undergo for a psychological evaluation.

It all started on Monday evening.... This guy I know came over to my apartment. To make a long story short- he choked me and raped me. I thought I was going to die. And of course, wonderful as my life is, this was not the first time I have been raped. The first time was when I was 15, he was my first boyfriend and I was a virgin. But that's another story.

After it happened I texted my best friend and asked her if I could stay the night. I told her I wanted to kill myself, not sure if I really meant it but I was just trying to take the events of the evening in. When I got to her house she asked if I wanted to go to the police but I just couldn't. The next day I decided to go to the police and file a report against him.

Officer after officer questioned me about what had happened. Then firemen came to do a basic checkup of me to make sure everything was in working order. I had to repeat what had happened to about five of them. Even though I know that they were concerned about my well-being, I can honestly say that it was one of the most humiliating things ever to have to explain the nature of the unnatural rape that had happened to me. They told me I had to go to the hospital to undergo a rape exam and also to file a police report. My best friend was with me throughout it all and honestly I don't know what I would do without her.

Bless the officer assigned to my case. He was extremely sensitive and even had me laughing while we were doing the report. He later told me that the time he spent with me was the longest he'd spent on any case and he stayed even beyond his shift so I wouldn't have to deal with another officer. Because I had mentioned that I wanted to kill myself the night it happened, he told me he had to take me to the hospital for a psychological evaluation. I freaked out. I cried, I cussed, I yelled saying it wouldn't do me any good because it hadn't last time, but he had to take me in. He kept apologizing and telling me he didn't want to upset me but he was worried about me. He said he could tell I wasn't happy with myself but that I had no reason to be. The officer told me how lucky I am to have a friend like my best friend and if nothing else, to be thankful that I have a friend like her because so many people he works with don't have anybody. I have always been fairly distrustful of the police, but after dealing with this officer it just amazed me how selfless he is, and how many sacrifices he and his family make in order to help others.

I hardly slept all night, waking up every two hours partly because they kept checking my blood pressure and partly because my brain would not shut off. The next morning the evaluator came. She was a pretty middle-aged blonde woman whose name I forgot. She was asking why I was there, etc. Then she proceeded to ask if I was going to kill myself or hurt others, I told her the only thing that stops me from doing anything to myself is my religion, and that I would never hurt someone else. She asked to see the scars on my arms from when I used to cut myself. I also showed her the cigarette burns on my breasts. My beautiful milky white breasts forever marked by my pain. She then asked if I hear voices. I told her "Look, I'm not crazy. I'm depressed. I have a lot of pain in my life and I just need some help to get better." 15 minutes later I was released, even though technically I should have stayed for another 36 hours. Freedom has never tasted so sweet.