Who will throw the first stone?

January 6th
Day 4:

I went to the emergency room last night.
I got back to the mental health facility at 1:30 this morning.

PAUSE.

Here is the story:

It was Saturday night, around 9:30, after I took my medication. (Which included a sleep aid called Ambien…). Well, through my basically comatose state, I was pulled into one of the other patient’s room’s. For the sake of time and my brain cells, I’m going to be blunt: in this room I was sexually assaulted. A guy my age, who I thought was my friend, knew I was extremely over medicated, yet, decided to have sex with me.

Without any conscious consent.


 

UNPAUSE.

The police have been involved. Because of this boy’s behavior (not including the previously mentioned event), he was being moved to my unit. I refused to stand by while they moved him to sleep 30 feet away from me. I WOULD NOT have it. So I told a manager-like lady my story. And NOW…the police are involved.

The CEO of the mental health facility made me sign a waiver giving my consent to anonymously turn in my written statement of what happened. Not too bad, right?

WRONG.

Because the police want to investigate. Now I am the victim in a sexual assault case. Again.

Great.

 

Sincerely,
Medicated Perfection.

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Published by

Rosie

22 years old. College student. Music lover. Medication taker. Depressed. Bad at eating.

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