I am a rape survivor. Not something I ever thought I'd be "when I grow up." But here I am - a survivor - a statistic. And I'm not alone - though you might not know it - one in six American women are victims of sexual assault and one in thirty three men. An even more alarming statistic is that only 16 of every 100 victims will ever report the crime to police and only 1 in 100 rapists serve a prison term of more than one year.

Why is it that we look at rape survivors differently than victims of other crimes? You may look at me trying to figure out what I did wrong; what I did that you won't or what I didn't do that you will so you can believe it could never happen to you. Trust me it can. And I pray with all my heart it doesn't. Because then you'd be able to see what it's like to be me. And I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.

You'd see what it's like to watch television and have to run to the bathroom to vomit when a scene triggers memories of what happened. You'd know what it feels like to walk down a street and think everyone must know what happened because you feel like half the person you used to be and feel different than everyone else. You'd know what it's like to go to the police and instead of dealing with someone who is caring, supportive and non-judgmental - you end up like I did with a detective whose line of questioning was as bad as the rape. You'd see that when you're strong enough to talk about it - how uncomfortable people get. You'd see how silly it feels to lose control of your body's reactions and emotions. Panic attacks, increased startle response, insomnia and nightmares would be your daily routine. Leaving your house might be a daily struggle. You'd feel guilt and shame. You'd feel dirty. Some days you'd be sad, other days numb and just about everything else in between. Most days you'd feel this emptiness that can't be filled or chased away. Did I mention how dirty you'd feel?

You'd look within to find blame when there is only one person to blame for the rape. And IT'S NOT ME. It is the sorry excuse for a man, the coward, who DRUGGED then RAPED me. The one who didn't give me the chance to fight back, who took away my dignity and pride then left me naked in a car by the side of the road and stole my jacket; probably as a trophy of the crime. If you cross paths with this scumbag - my rapist - tell him I want my jacket back.

When someone is in a car accident, is robbed or house is broken into - there's an outpouring of support. People can empathize because they too drive a car, carry money in their pockets on city streets, or own a home. Therefore they can feel for the victim because they can imagine themselves in that person's shoes. With rape it's different. I don't know why for sure - it just is. While those who have had their home broken into can attest to "feeling violated" and many of shudder thinking of how horrible it must feel to have someone go through your things, be in your home and take something that isn't theirs; nobody wants to imagine what it would feel like to truly "BE VIOLATED" in the most personal, degrading and horrific sense of the word. Because then we're no longer talking about sock and underwear drawers or jewelry boxes or the fact that someone has been in our home uninvited - we're talking about someone being inside us uninvited. We're not talking about things being taken we're talking about basic safety being violated.

When I think about how my life has changed since the rape and how unique rape is I feel more alone and isolated than ever before. Because I'm different now. Because someone raped me. My body was violated. So if you can't bring yourself to imagining what if it were you - at least imagine how difficult it is for survivors. We don't need to dwell on details of the attack. It is truly unimaginable. I understand why people can't imagine themselves in my shoes and why it's difficult for many people to experience empathy. So let's skip that part and fast forward to what it's like for me now. Don't look at what was done to me, look at what was taken from me.

Rape doesn't just affect the victim it affects their family and friends and makes intimacy an issue. Not just sexual intimacy either - a simple hug from an old friend or concerned relative can cause discomfort for a survivor. My sleep is affected by frequent nightmares or sleepless nights and my breathing is often rapid and panicked. My appetite swings between non-existent to insatiable and my whole system is out of balance. I walk around in a constant state of fear and no longer leave my house alone. I went from a successful, confident woman to a frightened and extremely cautious shell of who I used to be. I was disgusted with myself, felt like damaged goods - unworthy and alone. I was unable to trust myself or my decisions. Everyone around me became a source of stress, confusion, annoyance or fear. The man who attacked me took away my belief for awhile that this is a good world filled with good people. And everyone was a potential threat it my mind.

Writing had always been therapeutic for me. But I was at a loss for words after the rape. There just weren't adequate ones to describe what I was going through or what was done to me. Eventually my words came back and I could write again. And I tried to work out my emotions though my writing.

I want you to know that for every person who goes to the hospital and/or the police, there are countless others who do not. It is a shame but some survivors don't feel they can come forward without having to endure an attack on their character, an incorrect assumption that most people who cry rape are lying, and questioning or scrutiny by people over the actions of the victim as if some how it could be their fault. People who have been raped don't need you judging their actions - believe me they've done it themselves and they will for the rest of their life. If you're a survivor of rape I'm going to repeat again that it is - not your fault. I know no matter how many times you hear it or say it to yourself it's not an easy thing to believe.

When we hear about a rape often we ask ourselves why the woman was in a park at night by herself or in my case why did she leave her drink unattended? Didn't she know better? I ask myself such questions. So trust me I don't need you asking them. It was my rape counselor who pointed out my skewed thinking on this matter when she said "why doesn't anyone simply say - men shouldn't rape," when they hear about such crimes. Instead of focusing on what people should or shouldn't have done prior to being raped - as if it was their fault in someway - let's focus on the fact that the ones to blame and focus on here are rapists - not victims. Nobody has the right to rape. The thinking that a woman shares responsibility with her rapist since she was careless to be jogging alone at night or leave a drink unattended in a bar is as ludicrous as it would be to allege that someone whose house is broken into is in someway to blame. Don't they know that people break into houses? Why do they have valuables if they know that someone might steal them? How could they sleep at night when that's obviously when burglars strike?

If you are a rape survivor whether it took place 2 hours ago or 20 years ago - you are not alone. It is not your fault and you can and will get through it. It takes work. Hard work. But there are resources available to help you heal. You don't need to feel ashamed. You are the victim. Once you've truly owned that, once you believe and feel it in every fiber of your being - you'll start living like a survivor instead of a victim.

RAPE IS NOT SEX. Sex requires consent. I didn't consent. I wasn't even conscious and I generally don't have sex when I'm unconscious. RAPE ISN'T EVEN ABOUT SEX. It's not motivated by desire. RAPE IS ABOUT VIOLENCE AND CONTROL AND FORCE. A robber might use a gun or knife as a weapon. THOSE WHO RAPE USE SEX AS A WEAPON. Sometimes they use sex and a knife or a gun or in my case sex and amnesiac drugs. I avoid the term DATE RAPE DRUGS here because I wasn't on a date when this stranger decided to drop something into my drink, follow me from the bar then rape me.

Though I don't have a stab or gunshot wound - my wounds run just as deep. They can't be sewed up like a stab wound, taken out like a bullet or seen in an x-ray. They lie deep inside. And they hurt. They cause me to lay awake at nights, struggling to sleep then wake me in a state of panic. They cause me to be afraid. All of the time. And no matter how many times I tell myself "I'm safe." "Nobody can hurt me." They cause me to be jumpy and fearful of everyday sounds and events. They cause me to doubt myself, forget things and live a sad existence. They caused me to want to die and to act upon that want. They caused me to end up in a psych ward. They caused me to quit my teaching job and close my business. They caused me to stop leaving my house except for doctors appointments.

DRUG FACILITATED RAPE - that's what they call what happened to me. I guess it's better than DATE RAPE. But really there are no words to adequately sum up or label what we survivors live through. Sounds dramatic but the closest I can to come describe what happened to me, what I lived through is MURDER. Wikipedia defines Murder as "the unlawful killing of one human being by another. ...generally distinguished from other forms of homicide by the elements of malice, aforethought, and the lack of justification." I'm not trying to insult families whose loved ones have lost their lives at the hands of someone else. But I make the parallel because I too have lost my life in a way. My life as I knew it has changed forever. That man killed my spirit and may as well have killed me the night he decided to go to a bar, drug my drink and rape me.

What happened to me meets the criteria for murder in that his intent was certainly malicious - Malice is defined as "feeling a need to see others suffer." He had to plan in advance which covers - aforethought - or he wouldn't have had the drug with him to slip into someone's drink. And I think it should go without saying that he lacked justification. Gone are the days of thinking "she asked for it." But just in case you're wondering - not that I need to explain since what I was wearing should have NOTHING to do with what happened to me - I was not dressed to impress and I certainly wasn't looking for a date. I DID NOT ASK FOR IT. And neither has ANY MAN, WOMAN OR CHILD who has lived through this horrific, humiliating, violent crime. So as you can see he certainly lacked justification.

I guess the difference between someone raping me or murder - really lies in the fact that I still walk and breathe even though most days I feel dead inside. In Massachusetts Rape is defined as "a sexual act of violence, not a violent sexual act... a method of dehumanizing the victim, turning her (or him) into a controllable object. Rape can happen to anyone regardless of age, class or race." Massachusetts General Law, Chapter 265 Section 22, defines rape as: "Having sexual intercourse or unnatural sexual intercourse with a person and compelling such person to submit by force and against her/his will, or compelling such person to submit by threat of bodily injury." Under Massachusetts Law, rape is considered a felony offense, punishable by imprisonment in a state prison up to 20 years.

A felony offense with a 20 year sentence sounds steep for a crime - but it's a hell of a lot less than the sentence myself or any survivor lives with. For ours is a LIFE SENTENCE. And there's no time off for good behavior. Our life sentence includes years of hard time beginning with shock and numbness mixed with shame and fear. Then because we aren't capable of realizing and dealing with what happened there's a denial stage where we try to convince our selves that it's not that bad or maybe it didn't happen at all. This stage was an easy one since I'd rather believe this. And the police and society in general help with this in their reluctance to believe rape survivors or even in their inability to fully comprehend just how demoralizing and injurious being raped can be for the victims.

It was the denial that helped me in the months following the rape. I tried to ignore and hoped it would go away. But the pain was there. The hardest part is people can't see your pain. I turned inward. It was my instinct to blame myself or search for things I should have or could have done to prevent the attack and dealing at the same time with a similar attitude from the sexual assault detective that caused me to become very angry with myself.

My anger turned outward when I realized that while I might be too sick mentally to realize that it wasn't my fault - the Detective should have known better. People should know better. But Rape isn't something that people want to talk about. Here is where sex gets in the way. Sex is something that is private. People don't like to talk about it openly. And rape is so humiliating and demoralizing for it's victims that sometimes they are unable to talk about it. And they are met by people who mistake it as a sex crime and therefore view it the same way they view sex - private. But what everyone is forgetting is that RAPE IS NOT SEX. RAPE IS A CRIME. ONE OF THE WORST IMAGINABLE. And if statistics are correct in terms of underreporting - chances are we all know people who have been raped but have never spoken about it.

Key Facts from the RAINN (Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network) Website " Every two and a half minutes, somewhere in America, someone is sexually assaulted. " One in six American women are victims of sexual assault, and one in 33 men. " In 2004-2005, there were an average annual 200,780 victims of rape, attempted rape or sexual assault. " About 44% of rape victims are under age 18, and 80% are under age 30. Source RAINN Website - www.rainn.org

RAINN is the nation's largest anti-sexual assault organization and has been ranked as one of "America's 100 Best Charities" by Worth magazine. Among its programs, RAINN created and operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1.800.656.HOPE. This nationwide partnership of more than 1,100 local rape treatment hotlines provides victims of sexual assault with free, confidential services around the clock. The hotline helped 137,039 sexual assault victims in 2005 and has helped more than one million since it began in 1994.

According to RAINN "Sexual assault is one of the most underreported crimes, with more than half still being left unreported. Utilizing services such as The National Sexual Assault Hotline can help encourage victims to get help and report what has happened to them so that more perpetrators can be brought to justice."

Often we don't hear about Underreporting when reading up on Rape Statistics. Individuals, Law Enforcement and even the media tend to focus on False Reporting. I don't understand why anyone would claim to be raped when they haven't been. It is thought the motives could have to do with one of a number of factors for example a cover up for infidelity, to protect one's reputation or to "get back" at someone. According to the Council on Sexual Assault and Domestic Violence the idea that many women falsely report rape is a myth. "False reports of rape are rare. Most women do not volunteer to disclose the intimate details of a sexual assault, for public record, if the event did not occur." They go on to explain that most reported sexual assaults are true with very few exceptions. In fact they back up this claim with statistics from the FBI which indicate that of assaults reported only 2% are false (Brownmiller, 1975). This 2% is not any higher or lower than false reporting on any other major crime reports.

We've all heard stories of some crazy ex-girlfriend out for revenge or a wife who needed to explain away not returning home until the wee hours of the morning. We've even heard the he said it was consensual she said it wasn't stories. We tend to remember those for some strange reason. We can empathize with a person who has been accused of a crime maybe more so than we can the victims of these crimes. Our perception of false reporting is most likely a reflection of the low conviction rate for rapists. And trust me when I tell you that the low conviction rates don't in a way correlate to a high amount of false reporting.

According to the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center, "In the year 2000, the crime of rape remains the least reported, least indicted, and least convicted of any major felony. Only 16 out of 100 victims report the crime to police, and only 1 in 100 convicted rapists serve a prison term of more than one year. Shockingly, the figures grow worse instead of better. According to the most recent findings of the Massachusetts Department of Public Health, rape reporting rates are on the decline. "

Rape is a recidivist crime, meaning the perpetrators are usually arrested for the same criminal behavior again and again. Low conviction rates for rape results from insufficient evidence to prosecute, dismissal of trial due to technicalities and reluctance of victims to testify. This means time and again those who rape - walk away without spending a day in jail and return to the streets. There are an average of 7 assaults committed by each perpetrator. The number one reason survivors did not report to police from 1994 to 1996 was because of embarrassment, shame, and the desire to keep the assault a secret. (MA Department of Public Health, Sexual Assault in Massachusetts 1988-1999.) Survivors don't keep quiet because they don't care about putting the perpetrator away, they keep quiet for a number of personal reasons and I'm sure that one of them could be the fear of society's reaction and the reality that this is a difficult crime to prosecute.

I cannot stress how important it is that if you have been raped - there is help. Contact your local rape crisis center. They can direct you to a hospital with trained Sexual Assault Nurse Examiners. The Boston Area Rape Crisis Center sent a medical advocate to be with me at the hospital. I wasn't sure if I wanted to report the crime to the police at the time and it was explained that the nurse would complete a rape kit which would be assigned a number and that my identity would remain confidential until I decided if I wanted to move forward. If I decided to go to the police in the future I would only have to reference the rape kit number. At the hospital I was treated with the utmost respect and care. The nurse was able to answer questions and provide not only answers but antibiotics to prevent STD's, a pregnancy test and information about AIDS testing.

It wasn't until a few days later that I decided to go to the police. I knew how strange my story would sound. I knew there wasn't enough evidence to make a case. The fact that I have no memory of 6 or 7 hours the night I was attacked aside from some brief moments during the rape due to the fact I was drugged - meant I wouldn't be much of a witness. Even though I knew this - I felt the need to come forward. I couldn't help but wonder how many times this man had done this before or would do again. And the fact that I had his number - literally - since he'd called me the next day to tell me what he had done to me - made me hope that coming forward might solve a puzzle for the police. I had visions of learning that I wasn't the first person to run into this man, at this bar - but I would be the first who could lead the cops to him. I must watch too many television crime shows. But I got through that week - the first week after the rape - by focusing on trying to make something good come from something so horrible that had happened to me - that had been done to me. I even worked that week. I was going through the motions - hospital - check; police - check; rape counseling intake interview - check; yet I wasn't even aware that I was walking around in a fog or just how deep the pain would be when I came out of the fog or just how far I'd have to go to begin the healing process. I thought that I could get it all done and move past it in that first week.

Something unimaginable and horrible had happened. I survived every woman's worst fear. But I tried to rationalize it, telling myself that if I had to go through it then it must be because I was strong enough to handle it. And if I was strong enough to handle it then I had made it through the hardest part and now I had to find a lesson in it. If I could make a difference by putting this man in jail, by telling my story and help someone else then I could fit this into my "Everything happens for a reason" philosophy.

I told everyone I knew what had happened. In person, by phone, in a bulk e-mail sent to friends and family. I thought I was handling things well considering what I had been through just days before. I'm 33 years old - more than 12 years past my college days when the threat and worry about my drink being drugged was a weekly reality when I went to bars and clubs. I thought if people knew it happened to me - someone who is intelligent with innate street smarts - not at the age of 21 but at the age of 33 - then it could happen to them. My e-mail traveled far because most of my family and friends didn't know someone who had personally experienced such a thing. It seemed like before I could get hello out to people back then I was leading right into you will never believe what happened to me then proceeding to warn them to be careful.

As I started to come out of the fog and the shock I was in - I started to wish I hadn't told so many people. In a way I wished I hadn't told anyone at all. Instead of taking care of myself in the days and weeks following the rape I kept focus on saving someone else from the pain I had been through. When what I should have been doing was dealing with my feelings and focusing on what my body and mind was going through.

I was rushing through life at my usual pace hoping if I didn't think about it - it would go away. I was going to work everyday, going to counseling every week and couldn't wait to leave it all behind. I couldn't eat, or sleep and attributed it to the stress of running a business. I would be driving my car, smoking, drinking soda and talking on my cell phone and nearly got in at least 10 accidents. I was rushing through the days trying to stay busy.- trying not to think. I wasn't conscious during the attack except for the brief minute I woke up and quickly passed out again. I thought I was lucky. I figured it would be easier to heal since I couldn't remember what had happened. That was until the flashbacks and nightmares started to come along with panic attacks of magnificent proportions. I was more tired than I'd ever been, yet I couldn't sleep. And when I did, I'd wake up every couple of hours either screaming or gasping for breath and shaking in fear. What I couldn't deal with in my day I was forced to deal with at night. Some nights I'd wake up with physical pain from the attack. It was getting to be too much to handle. But I kept thinking that I could beat it. I was stronger than what had happened to me or what was happening as a result.

My rape counselor referred me to a psychiatrist to prescribe something for me to sleep and to help my anxiety and depression. I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in addition to Depressive and Anxiety Disorders. I had high hopes for the medicine and could not wait for my life to return to normal again. While the medication helped somewhat - my fear, anxiety and depression were getting progressively worse. Over time I stopped going out except to go to work and home. My wheels were spinning - but I wasn't going anywhere. I became less productive at work and eventually unable to even go.

The first time I saw friends I was with the night of the rape was 2 months later. I wasn't prepared for how triggering this would be. I didn't even know what triggering was. I was at a bridal shower with them for 3 hours and don't remember a minute of it. Weeks later they told me that they could tell I wasn't myself. They couldn't figure out what was wrong with me but they knew something wasn't right. I don't even remember seeing or talking to them.

I didn't even take the time to look up my diagnosis on-line. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I'd heard of it before - mostly associated with Veterans. Usually I take an active role in my healthcare. But this time I didn't even bother to look it up. The diagnosis scared me and I did what I do when I'm afraid - I tried to avoid dealing with it.

After weeks of sleepless nights, flashbacks and nightmares I decided that I wouldn't live like that. I couldn't do it. The police hadn't been any help. My hope that my experience and coming forward would serve some greater good was starting to sound like the sorry excuse that it was to explain away the unexplainable, the unfathomable. I lost all hope that things would get better. I though this was the beginning of a losing battle, that I would have flashbacks and nightmares forever. And sleepless nights and exhausting days would be my new reality. I wasn't going to have that. I was completely out of my mind.

I decided I was done. I refused to live the life that was now mine. I took all the medication I had 76 pills, wrote quite possibly the longest suicide note ever. Then went to bed on my back so if I threw up in my sleep I'd choke and die. I went to sleep that night peaceful that I'd wake up and be with my dad and boyfriend who had both died. My dad when I was 17 and my boyfriend just 15 months before I was raped. I told them I was tired; and I prayed they'd come get me and take me out of the pain I was in.

But I woke up. And I wasn't happy with it at the time. I was angry that I couldn't even do that right. My brother rushed me to the hospital. There was nothing wrong with me physically and I was transferred from the ER in one hospital to the Psychiatric Unit at another. I kept repeating over and over again that day, "I'm not supposed to be here."

I spent 11 days in a Psychiatric Ward and it was the best thing that could have happened to me. For it was there that I learned what is truly important. It was there that I leaned how to start living like a Survivor. Waking up that morning and coming out of the fog I was in was like a re-birth for me. It was a chance to begin again. It was then that I began my journey of healing.