When you assaulted me, you made me feel worthless. You made me feel that no one would love me. Who would love someone knowing that you had your filthy hands on me?

On a good day, I can absolutely face the reality that actually you were the one who lost something that night, not me. I understand that to hate you just gives you more pleasure, however I can’t forgive what you put me through. Especially when I see the person I have let myself turn into since that night, and the impact that has had on the people I love.

I have gone from being the victim to the abuser. As I put myself through the hell of self-reflection, facing demons and mistakes from my past that I was more than happy to bury, I drag down my family and friends as I float around in my self-obsessed bubble.

The hurt you have caused extends way beyond me and I am so angry with myself that I have let your toxic energy branch out to those I love. I thought I was a strong enough person to block it.

To build myself up, I have had to tear myself down; to go over every mistake I have made, every situation of abuse I have faced in the past. I have been absent from family events, even when I have physically been there. My family and friends have watched as the light drained out of me and faced the alcohol fuelled rants as I attack and punish them for what you did.

Before that night, I had the ability to have fun, to feel happy for other people. You have made me feel entitled to happiness and resentful for anyone who experiences it. I had dignity, self-respect and I was proud of who I was. I felt I had something to offer.

When I drink, it all seems to hit – what you did, how I reacted to it. You birthed a very dangerous self-destruct button in me that I feel compelled to push every now and again. The natural conclusion to this is for me to stop drinking, – and now that I recognise the impact my drinking has on my family I will – but here builds the resentment. I shouldn’t have to. You shouldn’t have burdened me with this reality to face.

Every time I drink, whether it’s in celebration or commiseration, I punish myself for that night or worse, my friends and family for simply being there for me. I let myself be soft, weak. I blame others for what you did, I blame myself for being so drunk that night that I was unable to stop you and too fuzzy on what happened to confront you on what you did.

Like all childlike battles, the weak little sister is shortly backed up by my bullish, older sibling. As I fill myself full of bravado that what happened will never happen again, I lose tolerance of other people, burning bridges and punishing others for your actions and my inability to move on from it.

Sometimes I think being the bigger person didn’t give me the sweetness that may have come from revenge but then I remind myself that to get myself into even more trouble, or too even have you on my mind, is too much of a win for you.

I will keep battling this battle and hope that those I have hurt in this process will forgive me for what I have put them through.

I look forward to the day when these feelings of self-hatred and anxiety are replaced with strength and self-love. I will be me again but I will never forgive you for what I have lost in the process.

I know the only person in the wrong that night was you and I will no longer let anyone else be punished for it.