when life attacks

[this post contains graphic scenes of violence, foul language, and what some might consider piss poor taste. reader discretion is advised.]

for the second time in less than a year, my life has raped me up the ass. there i was, trying to quietly wind down from another tough day, when BAM - my life snuck up behind me, grabbed me by the shoulders and hair, threw me over the counter, and had its way with me. it was such a surprise attack that i had zero time to react, let alone defend myself. i was terrorized in unspeakable ways by my own life. i somehow managed to peel myself up off the kitchen floor, cry in the shower for three hours, then rocked in the fetal position all night and day. now i just feel bruised, ashamed, terrified. i'm considering filing a police report, but how the fuck can i go through that again? after what happened last summer when i reported the crime? ... i wouldn't wish that kinda hell on anyone. it was so fucking painful - more like an interrogation instead of an interview. i can still hear the shrill and accusatory sounds of those two acidic policemen.

whadaya mean you didn't see it coming?
isn't it true that you and the alleged perp are in a long term relationship?
are you sure you weren't asking for it?
but you like it rough, dontcha?
whadaya expect when you wear fishnets and stilettos?

i wound up not filing charges. a few weeks after that, my life and i reunited - it kept saying over and over again, "i'm sorry baby - i didn't mean to do that - you know i get a little angry sometimes, it don't mean i don't love you..." and just like last year, i find myself today going over the same crushing thoughts in my head: what did i do wrong? maybe i deserved it. maybe i made it happen. maybe i send out the wrong signals. all i know is that my life can be a brutal, spiteful, misogynistic fuck sometimes. but i have to believe it really loves me. that it's not soulless or out to get me. that somehow, we can work things out.