Why me?

I try to be strong. I'm trying to 'move on' with my life. I can't change what happened to me, but I can choose to not let it affect my future. I reported my abuse and rape. The CPS decided that there wasn't enough evidence to charge him with my rape. Nothing I can do about that, so I'm focussing on the fact that they have charged him with my abuse - 20 of the charges that he is facing are against me. I can't change the fact that I was raped, but I can choose to not live my life as a victim. And for the most part, I am. I am focussing on the upcoming trial, and I am focussing on healing myself.

But sometimes... sometimes I have moments where I am filled with despair and I think "why me?". I get angry. I see my friends living their lives, and I am happy for them. They are getting married, starting a family. They are going out partying. They are worrying about exams. It's the life I should be living, if none of this had happened to me. As much as I hate to admit it, I envy them, each and every one of them. I don't for a second wish anyone harm - I just wish that I could be living that life, instead of worrying about facing my rapist in court.

I should be graduated from university by now. I should have a job. I should be happy.

At the same time, I am aware that everything happens for a reason. I trust in God. And because of what happened, I have met some amazing people. Had I not been raped, I would not have met some of the people that I consider to be my close friends. My friends are amazing and bring a lot of joy in to my life, and I am so glad that they are a part of my life. In that respect I feel lucky.

That doesn't stop me from wondering what my life would have been like if I had never met him (but if somehow, my friends were still a part of my life). I wouldn't be plagued with nightmares. I wouldn't jump at a loud noise. I wouldn't flinch at an unexpected touch. I wouldn't find it so hard to trust people.

I don't often have these moments where I cry about the injustice of it all, but sometimes I can't help it. Sometimes I want to scream in anger at the hand that I've been dealt. I want to scream at him for what he's done to me. I want to scream for my lost childhood. I want to scream at a society that instead of teaching men not to rape, it teaches girls not to get raped. I just want to scream.

If I close my eyes, I can almost picture the woman that I could have been. Happy. Trusting. Full of life. A wicked sense of humour. I know that she is in there somewhere, and that slowly I am finding her. I just wish I didn't have to find her. I wish I hadn't been abused and raped, and that I didn't have to work so hard to overcome being a rape victim.

I know that there is nothing that can be done about my past. I know there is no point in saying "why me?". I know I should be looking forwards, not backwards. And for the most part I do look towards the future - the future where I have become that happy, carefree woman inside me that is fighting to get out. But sometimes, even knowing that there is no point, I can't help it, I think about the life I could have lived up until now and I want to know; why me?

I want to worry about normal things. I want to worry about exams, about relationships, about the next party. I don't want to worry about trying not to flinch when I am touched. I don't want to worry about having flashbacks. I don't want to worry about seeing my rapist.

I just want to be a normal girl living a normal life.

Instead, I am a statistic - I am one of the 20% of women that have been raped.

It is not fair, I know this. I know there is no reason. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But that doesn't stop me fantasing about the life I could be leading. It doesn't stop me from asking the question, even though I know there is no answer to it.

Why me?