Ramblings Of An Emotional Wreck

I sit here pondering the thought of explaining more about what happened to me during those twenty three hours that bastard kept me as his plaything in his van. I'm not sure I can do it right now. I have all of these irrational fears that if I do tell more of what happened it will somehow become true, which doesn't make sense because I know they are true, I know they happened. I also have the irrational fear of people thinking I am lying or exaggerating in order to gain some sort of sympathy.

Nearly everything I read, and advice I get from others tell me that talking about what happened is part of the healing path, but how do I walk a path that takes me back into his van. How do I tell people about all the shameful things he did to me? How do I possible explain that in many ways I am still trapped in that van helpless and vulnerable, staring at a wolf gnashing his teeth at me to intimidate me into silent submission? How can I explain that his actions which are so clearly premeditated in nature were unknown to me before this happened? How do I explain that after several hours I gave up fighting and just catatonically let him use my body?

I try so hard to be strong, but I am falling apart on the inside. He took something from me and I'm not even sure how to define what he took. He didn't take it once, he took it over and over and when he got tired he sat down and relaxed while I suffered the humiliation of being naked and on display like I was one of his trophies. I'm laying there unable to get free and he's eating soup out of a can like he's on a camping trip. He would steal a part of me and laugh about it and hold his knife to my throat and make me thank him for hurting me. After about 10 hours I stopped thanking him when he put the knife against my throat. So he put the knife against other places and I and I had no choice but to tell him how wonderful he made me feel by hurting me.

It's all just so shameful, and I want to find a deep hole to crawl into and hide. Again I know how irrational this guilt and shame is. I know I have nothing to be ashamed about, but it hurts. I see him when I close my eyes, I feel him when I am touched, I smell him if I breathe through my nose. It's not fair that he gets to hurt me in my dreams. GOD, didn't he hurt me enough? What did I do to deserve this? I know that's another irrational question.