. . . I've had people joke about raping me, just for the lulz. Are you saying I should have laughed along because they weren't trying to offend me, having been informed of such?
Kind of like when jerks would pass insults between each other about me in high school, play keep away with my stuff, etc and then casually remark "You know we're just messing with you, right?" while wearing condescending smirks?
No, not really. It'd be like if you'd known some of your friends had gotten hauled off and nearly beaten to death (seen all the results of that, and the times when they were too sick with themselves to act, and how it happened over the years, and what it was like when they revealed it), and you yourself had sat in a room listening to someone beating on your door, shouting "let me in, let me in, let me in" (terrified that they were going to take you this time, knowing you had to protect the other person with you, beyond horrified, painfully aware of your weakness and your weight) and there'd been the occasional punch--not the real thing, but reminding you of it, terrifying you, striking to the bone, while others looked on widely smiling, because it wasn't even unusual enough to glory over. Just a bit of fun. Reminding you of your place in the universe.
You take to keeping an eye on your escape route everywhere you go, just in case, and you sleep with weaponry by your bed. You know it won't do anything. There's no lock on your door, and people keep on joking about punching you. Hell, your window doesn't close all the way, either, and you know it just takes one imaginative douchebag climbing over the waist-high fence and taking a knife to the screen, and looking in, and then... there you are. A statistic.
Everyone knows it would be your fault, anyway, because that's what they say about people like you. If you are treated violently, it was your fault. You must have wanted it. You invited it. You wore the wrong clothes that day. You weren't vigilant enough. You put down your glass. You were abandoned by your friend/guard, who wanted to do something else. And there you are.
And then some miserable fuck says "He won't come play D&D with you? Man, let's beat the fucker to death! His kind love that, don't they?"
And then they wonder why you aren't laughing, and get angry at you for being unable to take a joke, and they tell you you shouldn't have made them feel bad about themselves.