After the first event at college, my life fell apart. I ended up with people that allowed self-medication. (That is, I smoked a lot of weed.) I was too depressed to go to class. I stopped visiting friends and family. When my grandfather learned of all the classes I’d dropped (read: failed), he sternly asked me to move home. He had no idea what had happened, and I didn’t tell him.
This is about where I come from.
I talk about racism, rape and sexual assault. Also, don’t check out the second hashtag unless you want to see some terrible stuff. (Fair warning, this is me recollecting – so I may be wrong about a few things but I’m trying to put them down as best I can.)
Everyone experiences grief in their own way. I wrote out mine on request and found it really helpful – hopefully this will be helpful for others. (I recommend writing out what each means to you. It lets you take a good, detached look at yourself, and can explain why you reacted the way you did.)
I’ll begin this post with a trigger warning because trigger warnings are needed, regardless of the people that make fun of them.
So, Trigger Warning: Rape and sexual abuse.