Numbing the Pain

Alcohol, Drugs and the Hidden
Aftermath of Sexual Violence

An anonymous submission from a rape survivor, shared with M.Y.H

When people talk about recovery after sexual violence, they usually focus on therapy, justice, or the long road back to “normal”. What rarely gets spoken about is the messier part - the nights you can’t sleep, the panic that doesn’t end, and the substances that slowly take over as the only thing that seems to make it stop.

This is about that part.
The quiet, secret, often-hidden part of trauma that plays out behind closed doors

The Nights Were the Worst

After it happened, nights became unbearable. Sleep felt impossible; rest, unsafe.
I’d lie awake for hours, my body wired with adrenaline, waiting for something terrible that had already happened. When I did drift off, the nightmares came - vivid, violent, looping scenes I couldn’t escape.

Most nights ended the same way: jolting awake in panic, heart racing, breath shallow, drenched in sweat. Sometimes I’d stumble to the bathroom just to convince myself I was still alive, still here, still in my own home.

That’s when the drinking began - not to celebrate, not to socialise, but to pass out. A few sips turned into a bottle. Anything that could silence the memories long enough to make it through the night.

A Drink Became a Lifeline

At first, it felt like control: one drink to take the edge off. Then two. Then it stopped being about taste or enjoyment. It became medication, self-prescribed.

The cruel thing about alcohol is that it works - until it doesn’t. It quietens the mind for a few hours, only to make it louder the next day. The hangovers came with anxiety that felt unbearable, the kind that sits in your chest like a stone. I’d spend the morning shaking, promising myself I’d stop, before the cycle began again that evening.

Every night ended the same way: a blur, then a blackout, then waking up to the same pain - only deeper.

Drinking Through the Day

Eventually, the drinking didn’t wait for night.

I started drinking on the train or bus home from work. Some mornings, I’d already be counting down the hours until I could have that first sip. Masking at work - pretending to be fine, functioning, cheerful - was exhausting. By 5 p.m., I was hollow.

Sometimes I’d drink at my desk, hidden in a coffee cup. Sometimes I’d stash bottles in nooks at home, terrified someone might notice how much was missing from the fridge.

You start to live a double life: the competent colleague on the outside, the unraveling survivor on the inside.

Not Just Alcohol

When the drinking stopped working, I reached for something stronger.

At first, it was prescription medication - anxiety tablets, taken as directed. But soon I began to take more than prescribed, chasing that quiet, heavy stillness that nothing else could bring. Eventually, I found other sources- friends, drug dealers, anyone who could help me not feel for a while.

It wasn’t about rebellion or thrill-seeking. It was about stillness. About shutting down a mind that wouldn’t stop replaying scenes I wanted to forget.

The Isolation and the Shame

Trauma already isolates you; substance use seals the door.

I avoided friends because I didn’t want them to see me like that. I lied about being busy and tired. I told myself no one would understand, that people would judge me or think I’d lost control.

The shame was relentless. Each morning, I’d wake up and promise to stop. Each night I’d pour another drink, whispering, just one more time.

But what I know now is this: shame thrives in silence. And I wasn’t alone, even if I felt that way.

Naming It for What It Is

It took time - and therapy - to see it for what it was: a trauma response.

When the body and brain are stuck in survival mode, they’ll reach for anything that dulls the pain. Alcohol, drugs, prescription pills - they’re all attempts to regulate a nervous system that’s constantly on fire.

That doesn’t make it healthy or sustainable, but it makes it understandable.
And that understanding is where healing begins.

The Turning Point

For me, it started with exhaustion. I was tired of waking up shaking, tired of pretending, tired of hating myself for coping the only way I knew how.

One day, I went to my GP. I didn’t know what to say, so I just told the truth: that I was struggling, that I was scared, that I couldn’t stop drinking without spiralling.

It wasn’t easy. It took several tries to find the right kind of support. But slowly, piece by piece, things started to shift. Talking therapies helped me process the trauma itself, not just the symptoms. Support groups reminded me I wasn’t the only one trying to unlearn survival mechanisms. And learning about trauma - how it rewires the brain, how it distorts coping - helped me let go of some of the guilt.

Understanding the Cycle

Alcohol and drugs don’t create trauma - they mask it.
They offer temporary silence in exchange for long-term noise.

The hangovers magnify anxiety. The shame deepens isolation. The cycle feeds itself until it feels impossible to stop.

But it is possible.
Recovery isn’t linear; some days you crawl, others you soar. But every day you choose to stay, to reach out, to keep going - that’s a form of strength.

You’re Not Alone

If any of this feels familiar - if you’re hiding bottles, drinking to sleep, using pills or drugs just to get through the day - please know this isn’t a moral failing. It’s pain, finding a way to express itself.

You are not weak. You are not broken. You are human, responding to something that no one should ever have to endure.

Help is out there, and it’s okay to ask for it - even if all you can manage is a whisper.

Where to Find Support (UK)

If you’re struggling with trauma, alcohol, or drugs, you don’t have to face it alone.
These services offer confidential, non-judgemental help:

  • Rape Crisis England & Wales – free and confidential support for anyone affected by sexual violence.
    🔗 rapecrisis.org.uk | 0808 500 2222

  • Mind – mental health information and crisis support.
    🔗 mind.org.uk | 0300 123 3393

  • NHS Talking Therapies – self-referral service for counselling and trauma-focused therapy.
    🔗 nhs.uk/talking-therapies

  • FRANK – advice on drugs and safer use, 24 hours a day.
    🔗 talktofrank.com | 0300 123 6600

  • Alcohol Change UK – guidance and local service directory for anyone affected by alcohol misuse.
    🔗 alcoholchange.org.uk

  • Samaritans – for anyone feeling hopeless or struggling to cope.
    🔗 samaritans.org | 116 123

You Deserve More Than Survival

Coping through substances doesn’t erase what happened - it’s evidence of the pain you’ve carried, not a reflection of who you are. But you deserve more than numbness. You deserve calm mornings, safe nights, and a life that feels like it belongs to you again.

If you’re still caught in that cycle, remember: healing isn’t about perfection or punishment. It’s about patience, gentleness, and finding support that helps you breathe again.

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