I’m worried that I enjoyed being sexually assaulted. I’m a man…

Prologue:

I’ve locked myself into a life that I can’t escape from. Everything seems just fucking peachy on the outside. Great education, beautiful girlfriend, stable income. Yet I don’t desire to continue. My will to live is depleted but I’m too much of a coward to do anything about it. I’m living out of obligation at this point. I have far too much to lose. I can’t call the suicide hotline because they’ll just trace my fucking number and get me arrested and I know exactly how the psychiatric industry operates in this country. I feel like I have nothing. Just alone with my torturous thoughts.

Huge trigger warning for sexual assault:

Honestly, I don’t even know where to begin. I did EMDR and CBT years ago and probably don’t meet the criteria for PTSD anymore despite being diagnosed with it not long after the assault.

Anyways… I arrive at her apartment after picking her up from work. She is extremely affectionate despite being cold for weeks prior. She starts kissing me, things escalate and we begin engaging in a sex act. At the time I was wedged between the wall and her while laying on her bed.

The sex act is very painful and I ask her to stop. She asks “why” and I explain that it’s painful. She keeps going and I tried to physically move her hand away from me but she became angry and loud while saying “no!” She grabbed my hand and forced it back down. I stopped fighting because her roommate was asleep in the other room and I didn’t want to cause an argument. I closed my eyes and tried to power through it.

We continued to engage in sexual acts. Once we finished I couldn’t stop thinking about it - it was like an intrusive thought almost. I drove home like nothing happened. Oddly enough, I remember that drive very vividly.

Anyways, I’m worried that I enjoyed being sexually assaulted because I continued engaging in sex after she assaulted me. Doesn’t that invalidate my entire story? I sometimes feel like I’m being too dramatic or making it up.