So, first things first. I was raped when I was 18. It was my boyfriend. I sobbed through it. He didn’t finish. He screamed at me for crying. He told me how pathetic I was. He left my lying on the floor, panties and pants down at my ankles. I wanted to die.

That was ten years ago. I don’t think about him often. I don’t think about what happened.

But a few days ago, I had the strangest and worst dream. I dreamt of having a fairly promiscuous relationship with a few random guys. It was weird and it felt like watching someone else do it. But after the random sex, which I inferred rather than saw or experienced, I realized it was me who did those things. I felt bad.

Then I heard a knock at the door. I asked who it was. I recognized the voice of a friend. I opened the door. My friend was there, and behind him, a line of strange men. I knew what was about to happen. I slammed the door closed. But my so-called friend had his arm in the gap. He was too strong. I black out at this part, knowing I was raped by strangers, and the person I was supposed to trust.

Next thing I know, I’m in a bar. Lots of college kids. And I see one of the guys that hurt me. He’s with a guy I thought was nice. I make eye contact with the rapist. He looks at me like he expects me to cry and run away.

I don’t. I walk up to him. He looks down at me and asks me what I plan to do. I say nothing. I reach out to strike him across the face but he grabs my arm. He is too strong. But I’m angry. I strike out with my other hand, grabbing his nipple through his shirt and twisting hard. At first he laughs. But I don’t stop. I go harder, I put everything I can into hurting him.

He crumbles to the ground. I place a knee on his chest, keeping him in place. The people in the bar are staring now.

I look around at their surprised and confused faces and I shout, “This man raped me! He doesn’t regret it! He enjoyed it during and he enjoys it now!” And my voice broke. And for a second it seemed like the people would go back to their business. Maybe the rapist would win.

But a few people came forward and took the rapist away. I felt like they were helping me. But my last thought before awaking was, “They’re protecting him from me.”

I woke up sobbing and screaming. My partner was concerned. I haven’t been able to perform sexually since this dream. I don’t think my partner truly understands the absolute helplessness and shame I experienced all over again via my dream.

What can I do? Is this going to randomly happen until the day I die? I never want to relive this. Never ever never.