Night Out
Once my husband was gone, I was devastated from losing the person I loved the most to such horrific events. I was trying to figure out how I was going to get up every morning — wrapping my head around the fact that the person I loved hurt me in such a way that was fucking painful, physically and emotionally. There were days I would cry non-stop that I couldn’t get out of bed or even socialize with anyone, nor did I want to. It took a few weeks for me to get out and try to continue my life; I mean, I didn’t have much of a choice. I was getting ready to deploy, so at the time, there was always something going.
The thing I looked forward to the most was deployment, a different pace from where I was at that point. Many of the women through the Brigade got chosen to be part of Female Engagement Teams for the battalions. We were all excited about being on a particular team and getting to deploy with our infantry brother. Throughout the year prior, I had done different training with the unit before deploying with them. I knew most of the men I was deploying with even before knowing that I was deploying with them. They were always respectful and professional towards females. It was nice being able to train with them before deployment because they were able to see how I am training and the capacity I was working. I trained with them during the pre-deployment training, and I got nothing but good feedback from them, which made me comfortable knowing they had my back. When we returned from that training, everyone was ready to party before leaving for Afghanistan. Going out every night was something everyone was going day in and day out. Everyone was always out since the whole Brigade was deploying. It was still a good time. Since my ex and I would go so often, I knew a lot of the people who were out. I would get drinks for free, and I felt safe everywhere I went. I have always put a lot of trust in people. Some nights were wilder than others, but we still got home safe and with the people I know. So, I thought.
I went out with one of my best friends to one of the two bars that we would go to regularly. It was not busy at the time we arrived, but as the night kept going, more people showed up. A few of the guys from one of the companies I was deploying with showed up to the bar. My girlfriend and I had already had two drinks at this point. The guys came and hung out with us that night. We danced and drank that night; we were having a good time out. One thing I could think of at the time was feeling drunk but not consuming an amount of alcohol that would generally make me that loopy. I was in and out of what was dancing and leaving the bar to a hotel. I do not remember much of what happened after getting to the hotel. I blacked out. What I remember next may be too much for some… please do not read the following…
Once in the hotel, I remember very little, but what I remember was not a night I want to remember. I remember coming in and out of consciousness, seeing a group of guys around me watching me. I was on the floor in the bathroom from what I remember and someone having sex with me. I passed out or blackout I don’t remember being able to move much but just opening my eyes occasionally. The next day the only person in the room was my friend asleep in the bed and guy from the group. I asked what happen last night and they said we went to the hotel room and passed out. I thought I had imagined it; we were drunk.
I questioned myself for a few days, but someone had mentioned that I had sex with one of the other guys in the unit. At the time I blamed myself, I blamed the alcohol, I blamed everything but the person. I kept it to myself I was so embarrassed. How could I have drunk so much that I don’t remember having sex with someone? I looked at my receipt from that night; I was the one buying the drinks. I was able to track what my friend and I were consuming, three drinks each. If I drank more that night, I wasn’t the one buying. I would think to myself, did that happen to me? It did. I didn’t say anything then even though people would ask me if I fucked this person, and I would ignore the question all the time. I didn’t want to say anything since I was going to deploy with these men, and they think that I’m just another girl that screams rape. I was afraid of what people would think of me. Would they trust me? Would they take my word? Honestly. Probably not, I kept my mouth shut on the topic, and in the back of my head.
I would think to myself all the time what did I do to deserve my husband cheating on me, beating me up, and now being raped. Was I being punished for something? I was not in a great mindset, but I never showed it to anyone. I just continued living any blaming myself for everything that was happening to me. It wasn’t for years that I even decide to ask my best friend if she remembers what happened that night. She said she fell asleep when we got to the hotel. That was the last that I said anything to anyone about that incident. It has taken years for me to even speak of the event. I don’t talk about it at all until now. I have always been embarrassed by the fact that I got so drunk that I blacked out, and someone took advantage of me. It still scares me that it happened, and I felt gross about the entire thing for so long. I know what happen to me wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault that was something that happens to me, and I couldn’t control it.
The thing I looked forward to the most was deployment, a different pace from where I was at that point. Many of the women through the Brigade got chosen to be part of Female Engagement Teams for the battalions. We were all excited about being on a particular team and getting to deploy with our infantry brother. Throughout the year prior, I had done different training with the unit before deploying with them. I knew most of the men I was deploying with even before knowing that I was deploying with them. They were always respectful and professional towards females. It was nice being able to train with them before deployment because they were able to see how I am training and the capacity I was working. I trained with them during the pre-deployment training, and I got nothing but good feedback from them, which made me comfortable knowing they had my back. When we returned from that training, everyone was ready to party before leaving for Afghanistan. Going out every night was something everyone was going day in and day out. Everyone was always out since the whole Brigade was deploying. It was still a good time. Since my ex and I would go so often, I knew a lot of the people who were out. I would get drinks for free, and I felt safe everywhere I went. I have always put a lot of trust in people. Some nights were wilder than others, but we still got home safe and with the people I know. So, I thought.
I went out with one of my best friends to one of the two bars that we would go to regularly. It was not busy at the time we arrived, but as the night kept going, more people showed up. A few of the guys from one of the companies I was deploying with showed up to the bar. My girlfriend and I had already had two drinks at this point. The guys came and hung out with us that night. We danced and drank that night; we were having a good time out. One thing I could think of at the time was feeling drunk but not consuming an amount of alcohol that would generally make me that loopy. I was in and out of what was dancing and leaving the bar to a hotel. I do not remember much of what happened after getting to the hotel. I blacked out. What I remember next may be too much for some… please do not read the following…
Once in the hotel, I remember very little, but what I remember was not a night I want to remember. I remember coming in and out of consciousness, seeing a group of guys around me watching me. I was on the floor in the bathroom from what I remember and someone having sex with me. I passed out or blackout I don’t remember being able to move much but just opening my eyes occasionally. The next day the only person in the room was my friend asleep in the bed and guy from the group. I asked what happen last night and they said we went to the hotel room and passed out. I thought I had imagined it; we were drunk.
I questioned myself for a few days, but someone had mentioned that I had sex with one of the other guys in the unit. At the time I blamed myself, I blamed the alcohol, I blamed everything but the person. I kept it to myself I was so embarrassed. How could I have drunk so much that I don’t remember having sex with someone? I looked at my receipt from that night; I was the one buying the drinks. I was able to track what my friend and I were consuming, three drinks each. If I drank more that night, I wasn’t the one buying. I would think to myself, did that happen to me? It did. I didn’t say anything then even though people would ask me if I fucked this person, and I would ignore the question all the time. I didn’t want to say anything since I was going to deploy with these men, and they think that I’m just another girl that screams rape. I was afraid of what people would think of me. Would they trust me? Would they take my word? Honestly. Probably not, I kept my mouth shut on the topic, and in the back of my head.
I would think to myself all the time what did I do to deserve my husband cheating on me, beating me up, and now being raped. Was I being punished for something? I was not in a great mindset, but I never showed it to anyone. I just continued living any blaming myself for everything that was happening to me. It wasn’t for years that I even decide to ask my best friend if she remembers what happened that night. She said she fell asleep when we got to the hotel. That was the last that I said anything to anyone about that incident. It has taken years for me to even speak of the event. I don’t talk about it at all until now. I have always been embarrassed by the fact that I got so drunk that I blacked out, and someone took advantage of me. It still scares me that it happened, and I felt gross about the entire thing for so long. I know what happen to me wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault that was something that happens to me, and I couldn’t control it.