Anonymous Story: I Was Roofied

Hi Everyone, I was hoping to talk to about something I haven’t ever spoken of until recently.
Approximately 14 years ago my best friend and I were going out to meet up with some old friends who were in town for a short time. I was feeling like a generous guy that night so I started a tab and ordered a round of shots to be drought over to my group. I was still on my first beer when I started heading back to my friends, I guess someone must have slipped something ito my drink, because I hadn’t even finished half the beer, when all of a sudden I felt my body grow numb and weak. I had the urge to throw up. So I dragged myself to the washroom as fast as I could. I have a phobia of public washrooms and remember feeling the feeling the dirty discussing porcelain against my face. I wan’t even sure I made it to the right washroom. I tried collecting myself to text a friend to let them know where I was and what had happened, but I couldn’t focus or coordinate myself. I have no idea how long I was in the washroom for. It couldn’t have been for long, but what I can remember about that part of the night is that two people escorted me out the club through the back door away from my friends. One wearing heels and the other in small running shoes. I saw my feet moving under me and I almost convinsed myself that I was walking on my own, but I doubt it. My bodily functions were close to catatonic. I had no idea of what was going on at that point. I remember seeing pulsating orange and purple hazeness over everything from the washroom for the rest of the night I think. I can only recall fragments of that evening as I must have been drifting in and out of consciousness. I remember wondering why I was cold and laying on the side of the street. I recall flashes of getting dragged into a cab, the sound of my phone ringing and even the sounds of their voices. I know I was unable to speak or yell for help, but I had a lot of questions. I was too weak to move and I was so confused as to what had happened to me. One moment I was safe with friends and next I was being taken by sick and possibly dangerous people. All I could do was fall in and out of sleep and hope that it would all be over soon. I came in and out of consciousness enough to remember being dropped on a couch and then on the floor. I remember the sounds of them laughing and feeling of fingers holding my eyes open. As fregmented as my memory is of that night, I’ll never forget almost being suffocated by a wet vagina as they took turns. They masterbated on my face!..
I don’t remember anything else accept the following morning. I woke up completely naked on the floor. The apartment was empty and I had no idea where I was or who’s apartment I was in. I was still really fogy and I was so thirsty. All I wanted to do was leave, but I couldn’t find my clothes or my phone. I went to the washroom to quickly examine myself and see if I was okay, but Nothing About This Was Okay! I had a thousand thoughts rushing threw my mind and they all started with ‘What If.’ I felt it prudent to go to the hospital. I wanted to have a shower so bad but I wanted to get out of there even more so. I found some very uncomfortable shorts with ‘PINK’ on the back, a pair of sandals that didn’t fit and a very tight light-blue hoodie that wasn’t mine. I was on the second floor to some fancy sky rise. I escaped out through the sliding door to the balcony and climbed down. And when my Feet hit the ground, instinctively, I just started running. I didn’t know where to at first Anywhere That was familiar, I just had to get away. I just ran. I think my body was numb with adrenaline because when I look down I noticed that I had fallen out of these stupid shorts. It might have even fallen out when I climbed down from the second floor. I don’t know. I was so embarrassed, beyond embarrassed, that I fell to the ground to tuck myself back in, but it was inevitable. These booty shorts could barely contain me. I sat up on the grass and looked around at the horror of all the people who saw me… this was so traumatizing that I couldn’t maintain any level of composure that I felt myself starting to cry. angrily told myself to man up, don’t be a baby and suck it up! I just had to get to a phone. I borrowed a university student’s phone to call my best friend. I remember the girl who lent her phone to me started faking an Australian accent and laughed at me, but I was too flustered to care. Can anyone explain the Australian thing? I don’t get the joke. She just kept looking down smirking and laughing. I felt so ridiculous.
My friend picked me up relieved and obviously full of questions, but I never told him what had happened to me. I didn’t want to talk to anybody and the more questions he asked the more I just wanted to dive out of the car and roll into oncoming traffic. Most of all I just wanted to get back to my car and go home and be alone, but he just kept asking me where I was all night. How come I wasn’t answering my phone. It’s like he was blaming me for ruining his evening and everyone else’s. Apparently they were all looking for me asking the bouncers where I was if they had seen me or a guy that matched my description. A part of me wanted to yell at him and another part of me wanted to just… tell him, but I was afraid he’d just make fun. I know he would have. He probably would have tried to high-five me after talking up the situation. He even bugged me about what I was wearing and laughed about how I desperately need to cover myself up. He must have noticed I had myself tucked against my hip and out the left pocket which was so obviously stretched and protruding out my left side. That microfibre inverted pocket was the only thing saving me from gravity. My friend jokingly stated, Those shorts look so painfully tight.’ He laughed and All I could do was fake a smile. He did, however, lend my some of his gym gear for me to wear. A dirty pair of basketball shorts, a t-shirts and a pullover baggy hoody felt like an Armani suit to me at that point. I’m was super relieved I left my keys in his car. I was so glad I had some level of foresight that night to do so. Only wish my foresight extended further… I can’t believe I let this happen to me. When I got back to my car on the other side of town I went straight to the hospital to get checked out and they confirmed that I had indeed been Roofied and that I should get examined at a clinic in the near future. And drink lots of water. I was getting upset.
“That’s It?! Should I make a police report or file a complaint or something?!” I didn’t know who had done this or why, but I was so angry with everyone and everything. Everyone just seemed so useless and irritating. I didn’t tell any one I just made up a story every time I went to the clinic, weekly, expecting to find something but thank god they I never did. I showed no symptoms of any kind to this day and I consider myself lucky in this regard but overall I wish this had never happened to me or anyone else. While I write to you every emotion seems to rise to the surface and I start shaking and tearing up all over again. It’s almost impossible not to. After my friend dropped me off to my car and I knew I was alone I exploded with tears, shaking and screams of emotions and anxiety. After which I drove to the hospital. This is all so very hard to talk about because as a man we are supposed to be tough, just take it and suck it up. The person I am angry at most is myself. I don’t know why I blame myself. Am I protecting my captures? What could I have done differently? I could have put my hand over my drink as I walk with it I guess. I rarely go out anymore but when I do I cover my drink religiously. If I had done this before Then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
I believe if I talk about it with my girlfriend she would laugh at me too. So here I am reaching out to complete strangers and hoping I can talk to someone who won’t judge me for being a guy.

Thank you.

P.S.
I recognize that I’m sort of at the opposite end of the spectrum as a man who has been sexually assaulted by two women and maybe a third party… I don’t hold any animosity towards women, just people and the monsterous things they do. I am the furthest thing away from being a misogynist but I am disgusted with what happened me. Also every time I think about it, I always come back to blaming myself. I haven’t acted on any suicidal thoughts. But I will admit I have had them, which I know isn’t healthy. I try to think back as to who those girls were and my gut feeling tells me that they might’ve come from an art class that I did some nude modelling for. The truth is I just don’t know. I certainly don’t know who to talk to about it anonymously. I refuse to see a shrink because I don’t think I could handle any judgemental sympathetic looks.

I would love to talk to someone about the time I was forcibly examined by a group of my piers in high school. Or when I was a barely a teen, a friend of my parents took tickling too far, and he ran his hand up my shorts to grab me. After that, I ran away from home and lived at my friends place for time.
I start calling myself petty the more I reflect on my well buried past…
I want to elaborate on the the number of times, at conserts, lineups, crowded hallways and sporting events, when Women have grabbed me then ducked into a crowd to disappear. My girlfriend was grabbed in Mexico. Some ass hole reached up her skirt between her legs and swiped his filthy hand from her front to her back. I’m proud to say she knockeds his ass on the ground. The Pig’s two friends agreed that he deserved it. I wish I had been there for that, but this was before I know her. Why with the grabbing? Why do people do this? Who are they trying to impress? Do they get off on it?
It’s My Body!
Again, Recently, a guy’s wife deliberately grabbed me and then played it off as an accident. I overheard her joking with her friend about it later.
She had done it to me before on prior weekends too. WTF!
To this day I refuse for my girlfriend and I to spend the night at there place. I will say that am so grateful to know someone be so amazing as my girlfriend. She never treats me like an object. I am more than just a one night stand to her. Although being intimate can be difficult sometimes we make it work and our relationship only grows stronger. I honestly believe she saved my life and help me to love myself. However, Anonymity is my only comfort when talking about my past traumas, and I do believe it would help to speak to some one.
Thank you.