Missing 10 Hours

I have been confronted with a hole in my memory, verging on the border of dream and reality. In 2009 I was studying in Denmark. One night I met two Hungarian guys who studied at the local university. The last thing I remember, they were handing me a drink. The next day I woke up at the police station. I couldn’t remember the past ten hours. The police told me that I was probably given a GHB drug and I could press charges if I wanted. But all I wanted was to hide from the outside world. I felt terribly ashamed. I was too scared to ask anything so I still don’t know exactly what happened to me. I just buried these feelings deep inside me, as so many women with similar experiences do all around the world. Until now!

Team Partner

Krisztina Meggyes, director