Trigger Warning: This article may contain triggering content regarding sexual assault.
I’ve never been the girl who cries in movies. It’s something my mother has always pointed out, half teasing, half concerned, that I never seem to be overly affected by even the most heart wrenching movies. But there I was, sobbing in the back of a movie theater for a reason I didn’t even fully understand.
Everyone said that The Revenant was a hard watch. I had prepared myself for the violence, but in all my preparation, I somehow missed the fact that there was a scene depicting rape in the film. Maybe I would have had a different experience if I had known it was coming, but I didn’t. It surprised me completely.
I hadn’t been triggered in a long time. I hadn’t had a nightmare in over a year, and I didn’t feel broken anymore. Of course, small things would remind me time to time of my assault, but in the past months, I had found those easier to push away. Despite all of this, I froze in my seat when it dawned on me what was about to happen to the woman being dragged through the snow. As soon as the man in the film began raping her, I couldn’t see through the tidal wave of tears falling from my eyes. I have no idea what happened for the next 5 minutes of the movie because I had my head in my hands, sobbing quietly, trying to pull myself together. My boyfriend, who sat beside me, was engrossed in the film, and I tried my hardest not let on to the fact that I was losing it. I was shaking, digging my fingernails into my hand, and wiping my face on my sleeve, trying and failing to stop the stream of tears cascading down my face. Even though he has been my biggest advocate and best support system, in that moment, I felt all alone. I had no idea how to keep myself from slipping into that dark place that swallows me up sometimes at 2 a.m. when my mind races and I have to curl up in bed, hugging my knees to my chest to keep myself from falling apart. I felt that same pressure in my skull, like I had to hold onto it or else my brain would explode.
After I could hold my head up again, I couldn’t focus very well on the rest of the movie. I kept resurfacing from the story, seeing her face in my mind and every time feeling my body tense like I was about to catapult out of my seat and run out of the theater. However, it’s awfully hard to run away from your own mind, your own experience. Trust me, I’ve tried. Even now, having gone over this night at the theater so many times in my head, I’m not sure what it was about this particular scene that evoked that reaction so strongly in me. I had seen other assaults portrayed on screen and read about them, but this was the first one since my own that completely wrecked me. Maybe it was the way he did it, or maybe it was the disgusting sound of him taking pleasure from her pain. But more than anything, I think it was her. She didn’t scream; she didn’t fight. She endured it because she knew no one was coming to save her. She survived it to fight another day. Something about this scene freshly sliced open a wound I’ve been trying to scar over for years now. I felt weak. All that work, all that progress, and here I was, feeling just as worthless and hopeless as I did when it happened. Only later when we left the movie did I tell my boyfriend what had happened during the film. He proceeded to take care of me the rest of the night and bring me back to a good state of mind where I felt safe and worthy of love again. This is only one example of the countless times he’s helped me come back from feeling so alone, and for that, I can never express how grateful I am for him.
Don’t get me wrong, the movie was fantastic, and I’m glad they portrayed the rape, as it is a real part of the experience and history of American Indian women. Today, when these issues are being talked about and portrayed more in the media (as they should be), those of us who have been through sexual assault in one form or another need to find our own ways to protect ourselves when the weight becomes too much. I give my own strategies, not to say I’ve figured it all out, but in the hope that by showing how I cope the best I can, anyone who’s struggling may find something that works for them.
- Separate from the trigger if you need to. This one is probably the most important and most seemingly obvious, but a lot of people when triggered feel like they have to sit through it or “be strong and take it,” when this can only lead to further trauma. If something is triggering or potentially could, leave! You don’t have to prove anything to anyone; taking care of yourself is the most important thing. Recognize that it is okay to be upset and to take space for yourself. In turn, it is ok to practice whatever method is best for you to feel comfortable again.
- Ground yourself in the moment. It can be helpful to engage in some self-talk (either out loud or in your head) to remind yourself of where you are. Phrases like, “I am in a safe place,” or, “I am loved, I am worthy,” or other variations of these statements can help mentally remove you from negative triggered emotions and put you back in the present where there is no immediate danger.
- Check in with your body. We can often get a handle on our emotions by paying attention to our physical reactions. Taking deep breaths and drinking water can be effective methods to come down from a heightened emotional state. If being hungry or tired is adding to your overall distress, focus on taking care of your physical needs as a part of improving your emotional state.
- Ask for help. Finally, another seemingly obvious tip that is much easier said than done. When I’m feeling bad, my first reaction can be to shut down and be pretty hostile towards other people. Anyone who’s ever taken a psychology class (and probably a lot who haven’t) could tell you that this isn’t a healthy way of coping. This doesn’t mean you have to spill your guts to whomever is standing next to you at the time, but it can be immensely helpful to have someone to call when you’re triggered and are having a difficult time calming down by yourself. This can be a parent, friend, therapist, school counselor, religious leader, crisis hotline or whoever would be helpful to you. Ideally, it can be someone whom you’ve talked to about this beforehand and has agreed to be there for you if you need to talk about it (taken from personal experience and tips from Sanctuary for the Abused).
In writing this article, I was given the choice to keep my piece anonymous. I thought about it for half a second, but then said no. I decided that I wanted to put my name on this because I am claiming ownership of my experience. I needed to write the article for other women who might be struggling with the same thing as I have, but I put my name on it for me. This is a way for me to say yes, this happened to me, and while what happened will never be okay, I know one thing for sure: I will be.
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