I was raped by a guy I’d never seen before in my life. Him and his friend slipped a date-rape drug, GHB, in a cup of beer I’d had that night when I left the room for only 5 minutes. Despite the effects of the drug, I remember attempting to fight off this big 6’2, 200 pound wrestler away up till my memory goes black. He took my virginity. I wasn’t able to sleep in that room ever again.
I tried to report what happened and a detective was assigned to my case. Shortly after the detective told me he could charge him with over 5 charges and that he had more than enough evidence, the parents of this guy paid the detective off. The guys from that night had all gotten together and created some story that made zero sense. My detective then turned against me, berating me, intimidating me, insulting me. I dropped the case with the county.
Months later, with full-blown PTSD and all, I decided to get a private investigator and an attorney. The rapist from that night was on a full wrestling scholarship to a good college. He couldn’t jeopardize that.
6 months later, I was raped again. This time, by a guy who had met the previous rapist at a party and who had a “talk” with one another. I still remember his eyes darting from the gun to me. He did things I refuse to ever mention a word of.

I’ve been diagnosed with Post-traumatic Stress Disorder, and I’ve developed some self-injury issues since then. I have nightmares, flashbacks, and/or panic attacks daily.
But I guess I’m a survivor, eh?