We had the habit of confessing in a chapel during class hours once a week. We entered one at a time to confess with the priest of the school (he was about 70 at that time). To this day, I barely remember the SA due to all the trauma it caused me at the time and afterwards. I didn't even have my period, it was unprotected it goes without saying, and he wasn't careful either, I spent two days almost crying every time I sat down. I remember him covering the wooden Christian figures with a sheet because he said they wouldn’t approve that so they couldn’t know. In that school we had to wear a uniform, and he tore my socks to "facilitate the work he was about to do". This man died last month, and since I heard about this my head keeps replaying over and over again the parts I remember about that situation, and it's not that I forgot about it until now, it's just that I didn't have it so much in my head and for some reason I had moved past it until now, but I've broken down again.every time I think about it (including now) my gut churns, my mind clouds over and my pulse goes to shit. I don't have the strength to talk about it with my therapist, or even my boyfriend of 4 years (19M).
This has not hindered my sex life with my SO, but it has hindered my life in terms of my moments of loneliness and I spend hours and even days reliving it and the people around me notice that I am unwell. I want to scream but I can barely get a voice out of my throat. Can someone give me advice? Should i tell someone or make an appointment with a psychiatrist?
Thanks for taking the time to read this, it has helped me to let off some steam after six years.