Holy hell it’s been a week. My brain has been wracked with worries and flashback and it’s been almost nonstop.

To start, I’m a man, mid thirties. When I was twenty eight, I was raped by another man. It happened, I moved past it. I haven’t held it against other men and after therapy, have been able to move forward. Scared but I got by.

Monday around 2pm I went on my lunch. I don’t work in the best neighborhood nor do I necessarily match the color. It’s never been a bother and neither has the significant crackhead energy. I just get my AirPods in and go on a walk. Hallway through my walk I usual stop on the creek where a bridge used to be. I listen to the stream, watch the mallards and talk with my boyfriend. He had to go early so I hung up with him. So I just enjoyed the cooler fall weather while judging the shopping cart in the creek. It was peaceful yet trashy.

Then someone called out from a house. A little old woman. Naturally, I was raised to help others so it’s not out of the ordinary to lend a hand wherever I am. In my life, I’ve saved multiple people’s lives from suicide and helped countless neighbors. Though I don’t live there I figured I’d go over and listen. She explained she was old the boxes were too heavy. She said she doesn’t do this and she didn’t have any money to pay me with, and it was fine. It’s the end of the month and for some people the check doesn’t show up until a week or so from now. I wouldn’t accept it either way.

I came in and she closed the door behind me insisting it’s just a few things, I entered by the basement stairs into the kitchen. She had to be like 55 or something. I tied my shoes ready in case I had to haul things downstairs. Little did I know she had closed and locked the exterior door. She walked past me as I stood. Leading me to a bedroom by the kitchen with boxes before going back to her not being able to afford to pay me. I insisted it was no worries. She then was wondering what she could do instead and wondering between her room of boxes that needed moving and me before focusing on me. I asked what the first thing and she went back to payment and was getting closer to me before reaching to my pants and grabbing my dick and cupping my pec talking about how hot I am and how good she can make me feel I back away and she accuses, correctly, me being gay and insisting she can show me things that would blow my mind. I told her ma’am I’m leaving. I turn to leave and the door to the kitchen is locked, I get past that, and the exterior door is locked too. Both with dead bolts and I didn’t know or hear it happen. I was lucky to get out and that I didn’t get jumped or robbed.

I walked away trembling and scared because all she’s got to do is say I assaulted her. Or worse to her. I was experiencing all the rape I thought I had worked through with therapy. I called the police because she’s right next to 3 schools inviting people inside. I’m not sure what’s worse, knowing that the Justice system is going to take a woman’s word about this if she flipped the tables or being accused of being gay for not liking it. I don’t know how to process it because of a lot of things. Haven’t slept well and have definitely lashed out at coworkers instead of letting whatever petty BS roll off my shoulders. Part of this is venting online, the other part of this trying not to black out and forget. I really hope I sleep soon. It’s destroyed my sleep.