We Will Not Go Quietly - Centre Against Sexual Assault

LAUREN GROCOTT
SILENCE IS NOT CONSENT
55
I stand and stare
surrounded by white cloudy dusty fog
it covers my body whole
like cheap perfume
it stains my senses
there is no point to hold onto
no spark to capture my gaze
I breathe the fog deep into my lungs
the dust dances through my insides
choking, assaulting
my every breath
I stare, my eyes sting
silent in the clouds
I don’t know how to write about the experience of being raped. It has taken
a very long time to handle hearing the word, seeing the word and writing the
word rape. I hate that word so much. I hate the way society conceives of that
word. I hate the misconceptions that come with that word. I hate that people
use it in jokes. I hate how much that word haunts me. It hate that it jolts me.
It still bafles me how hard it is to accept. The way my brain swings from
denial to acceptance so quickly is exhausting. Especially earlier on, I honestly
thought that I was going insane because my brain would replay so many
diferent arguments for and against what happened to me all day and night
long. I just sat and replayed and replayed the arguments. I barely left my room.
I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t work. I wanted to die so desperately. I really wanted
to die. That felt like the only escape from the confusion over what happened
and the pain that maybe it’s real.
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