It feels like a new world. Like The Morning After.
While it was happening, and for the remainder of the evening, "rape" kept coming to mind. And given the violent, unexpected brutality of the event, "rape" is a logical association.
But this morning, as a survivor of only one actual rape, there's something different in it for me. It's different because the abuser is still present. He lives right next door. I must see him again, and again.
And so it reminds me more of childhood. Of living with the abuser. And it reminds me of the final confrontation with my mother in Lake Tahoe. In the kitchen of the luxury cabin our family rented for reunion when I was about 35... The evening when she spoke with virulent pride of her "100 friends" who would happily line up to hurt me if she called for their assistance. Her face was unrecognizable to me. She was my mother but I did not know her.
I was speechless and ran to my room and closed the door. The next morning, was a Morning After. The world felt different: I was the (adult) child of a mother who wished me harm -- and wanted me to know it.
"Live with this, then" says the voice of Evil as the sun rises. "Live in this world where now you understand my power and know your place."