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The thing that you have said which stands out most is that you feel bad for having something wrong with you. You're not alone in feeling like that, but there is nothing wrong with feeling the way you do, there is nothing wrong with you. There is no magical time limit when you should 'get over it' or be 'cured'. Feelings are feelings, and yours are valid. This applies to the other anon too.
If your partner loves and understands you then he will feel the same. You aren't 'being a hassle' or something like that, it is something which is important to both of you, not something for you to deal with alone. Talking to him about it is really important, but you should set the goals on how much you are willing to explain.
I know you can't afford a therapist but have you looked for local support centres? These centres aren't just for woman who have just been attacked this week, they are also for long term support and they can sometimes even offer email support. I know you have already looked online for advice but many centres also put writing online, such as this page which mentions both flashbacks and childhood abuse, which can be reassuring to read. http://www.rapecrisisscotland.org.uk/help-information/information-about-sexual-violence/coping-after-sexual-violence/
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This shit was many years ago, I was around 18-19 I believe. Me and a mate was hangin out on a rooftop, we were just chilling and drinking raw vodka and of course I pass out rather quickly. Everything just went black but one of the moments where I zoned back and basically the only moment that made me know he was in fact raping my half-unconscious body was that I heard him unzipping his pants and pushed his cock inside me. After that I'm gone for a while and I wake up talking to my crying father on the phone fresh out of the ambulance. I guess I was still out of it but I could hear noises n feel shit, like hospital cutting up my clothes checking if something's broken running tests etc. Somehow we ended up falling from the roof approx 3-4 stories, and to this day i have no Idea what really happened.
I didn't report it to the police since I know how the law works, alcohol was involved yada yada. My mother and school mentor wanted me to talk about it. But never felt I had to, or really wanted. I don't know, I've never wanted the whole "victim" role. Abused sure, but fuck it. He got damages that are unrepairable so that helped my sleep at night or whatever you say. I'm not sure if this had an impact on me as a person, it sure taught me never drink on a fucking rooftop again, but I want to believe that I was lucky enough not to be affected too much, it's probably back there in the emotional graveyard. But foremost I was lucky I didn't die that day.
OP, I know exactly how you feel. I spent most of my adolescence dealing with sexual assault and abuse from others, the two most notable times being when I got raped at the age of 17 and then getting into a highly sexually, and abusive relationship that latest two years where my ex wanted me to be submissive 24/7.
However, I'm now in a healthy relationship and while it has been a long road, I can give some simple advice to what has worked for me.
The first thing that helped was that I communicated with my partner. I told them upfront that I felt ashamed of myself sexually and how due to my sexual past, I fear I could have a traumatic breakdown during sex. Since then my partner has been attentive to my body language and if I suddenly stop or start looking uncomfortable, he'll stop and give me a moment to breathe.
Another thing that I found worked was to not see doing PIV as being the end goal during sex. My partner and I are usually satisfied if we do mutual masturbation, oral sex etc. instead of going all the way. Sex doesn't necessarily mean penetration. It also means just simply touching and slowly doing foreplay so that I for example, can start to feel comfortable with my own body because unfortunately with having an abusive sexual past, you need to feel safe and relaxed.
I hope this helps OP. I know it won't work for everyone as trauma is very subjective, but just remember that you're not alone <3
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OP here. I'm so sorry to hear about your current problems. It really sucks. I get what you mean when you say you're over your past and your ex. I'm in that situation as well where I dont need to cope with what happened anymore, I'm completely over it. I'm really struggling to find good resources for just how to deal with the post-stress of everything and continue a healthy relationship with a partner. Instead all I can find is "how to cope as an adult with child molestation!!" type things which isnt what I need.
I don't really know if this counts, I don't actually feel like it does, I feel it's my own fault for being stupid as a teenager.
When I lost my virginity I did it with a guy I thought was nice and I kind of just wanted it do be 'over with and done'. This guy had previously had sex with at least 5 other girls, so I thought he would be gentle and nice. But nope, he pretty much just skipped foreplay, didn't even try to losen me up with his fingers, but went straight in, dry, and held me down while I cried and begged him to stop. The next few days I was bleeding and sore and I didn't want to have sex again for a very long time.
Even when I started dating again I always had a problem getting turned on and whenever I have sex I feel myself tense up which results in it hurting and ofc. I ended up in another abusive relationship where the guy would beat me up and my only way to get out of sex was to cry until he stopped trying to touch me. I think I should probably just have gone to therapy, but I'll never tell my parents about this 'cause it just makes me feel like I'm disappointing them by allowing myself to have been in that situation.
A lot of the stories here are a lot worse, I feel sorry for anyone who has been forced into sex.
I was first molested by my father when I was 10, lost my virginity to him when I was 11 when he raped me. He'd continue raping me on and off for years, until I was 15, which was when I taken out the house for unrelated reason. I really sympathize with you OP. I've been in a 3 year old relationship, we don't really do much more than kiss. When we try to have sex, I get really anxious. I get really hot, start sweating, my stomach feels sick and it feels like I'm going to throw up. I've been with this guy for a long time and I'm very much comfortable with him but sex is just ruined for me, it's something I can't enjoy because it's tied to a lot of bad memories and feelings. On a somewhat related note, I feel really guilty about what happened. I never reported what happened to me as I was scared. I sometimes wonder if what happened to me I deserved because I was too weak to say anything about it. Like, if I wasn't such a fucking coward, I could have avoided so much hurt, hurt I still feel today.
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STOP DOUBTING AND QUESTIONING THE VERACITY OF FACTS PRESENTED HERE.
THIS IS A PLACE PEOPLE TALK ABOUT THEIR SHITTY EXPERIENCES, IT'S BAD ENOUGH AS IT IS, NOT A COURTROOM.
I can't speak about this with anyone IRL so I'm hoping you guys might be able to give some input cuz this whole scenario is fucking me up really badly
Basically, a week ago I was referred to an ED clinic by my GP and I had to have a psychological assessment. Everything was OK, asked me a lot of questions about my past, about my life now, but then they asked me if I was ever sexually abused. I was honest (I never told anyone about this before) because I figured I'm attending them because I want my life to get better so I might as well be open/honest otherwise what's the point…? So I said yes, I was molested between the ages 4-6ish.
And it's turned into this huge thing. The doctor was like "oh well you know that by law I now have to report this?" and I was like um no, what the fuck?? I actually burst out crying right then and there. I didn't even know what to say. I thought it would be confidential. I don't want to go through this whole shit. So then my appointment became less about the ED issue and more like a 3 hour ordeal about reporting this thing (they didn't tell me this before they asked me this question!!!!).
I was kind of in shock so I didn't really reply or defy them much but basically they kind of told me I have to report it. Yesterday I got a call from a social worker asking me details, saying this is going to be investigated, saying I will get a letter to give a statement because they want to meet with me… I never even fucking said I wanted to report this!! Not ONCE was I asked what I wanted.
The anxiety this whole situation has given me is unbelievable. I don't want to relive this shit. The whole time they all tried to guilt me by saying "they could be still doing this/you have to help other kids" and yes of course I feel bad about that but the entire reason I came to you guys is because I've hit rock bottom, I am not in a good place right now, this is the absolute last thing I need to deal with! I spent the rest of the day and the day after literally just lying in bed crippled with anxiety, it was so bad I couldn't even go to work that day.
Honestly I don't really know what to think of this whole situation. It just feels unfair to push this issue on me without even considering how I would feel about it? But if I think like that then I feel like total shit because now I feel if I don't report it now I'm an awful human being. I dunno, I'm 24 now and spent a lot of time trying to put that issue behind me (which to be honest isn't even what I feel is even really troubling me!). I don't know how to proceed from here. What should I do? I feel sick even thinking about it.
Adding this for you http://www.apa.org/monitor/julaug02
What this shrink did was clearly not in your best interest (barring the fact there is a mandatory report on child molestation in your area (be that would be weird, seeing that's it's so long after the fact and you're probably not in immediate danger anymore))
Now is time to take care of yourself. Watch a movie, treat yourself with something, see friends. You didn't deserve that and I'm truly sorry it happened.
I fucked up my link earlier : http://www.apa.org/monitor/julaug02/ethics.aspx
From what I'm reading, it seems that there maybe is some form of mandatory reporting of sexual abuse on minor (https://deshocks.com/2013/04/23/speak-no-evil-how-victims-of-sexual-abuse-are-treated-once-they-report/
), but still, I think he mishandled it since you're not a minor anymore.
It's a shitty system and it seems your shrink handled it in an even shittier way.
I'm eurofag myself and I know how psychiatry is behind here (and I'm guessing heavy catholicism in Ireland makes it even worse). I hope you'll feel better. Don't give up on getting help, it sometimes takes time to find the right shrink.
Honestly, I dunno if this is even sexual abuse. Mine seems to be pretty different than a lot of people's here. Basically when I was about 13, my friend (I did it to her too, we were dumb shits back then) posted my phone number somewhere, honestly it was so long ago I don't remember where. A 30 year old guy contacted me, I didn't think twice about it because well, I was stupid. Anyways, he initiated a relationship with me, and basically started emotionally abusing me. He lived in my state too, but we'll get to that in a bit. I don't want to say forced, because you know how things are with emotional abuse victims "Why didn't you just make him stop?" "Why didn't you just leave??", but he "forced" me to take inappropriate pictures of myself (basically nudes), and I became I guess I little loli cam whore for him and all his friends (all of whom were 30+). I think even a picture of my breasts ended up somewhere on 4chan, I remember he was angry about it, guess he wanted me to be his property. I did unspeakable things (its actually disgusting, I don't want to talk about it) because they said so.
Despite being a dumb thirteen year old, I was struggling a lot with having a purpose in life, so at the time my purpose was doing everything he said, everything and anything. I felt like I couldn't get any better, depression stuff that I've had since forever, etc. Eventually I woke up and realized he was a piece of shit, so I left him. He threatened to have his friends rape me and my sister, threatened to kill me (he was in the military or something, the navy I think it was) if I left. Now you might be saying "Oh whatever, empty threat." But this guy had literal mental problems. I remember him describing to me how he raped a girl while he was in the navy, drove 3 people to kill themselves, "accidentally" set fire to a building, had no issues with rape or murder, and that he always had something "wrong" with him (even when he said these things to me, I didn't leave him cause apparently I had a weird thing for actually insane people, I dunno.)
I still left, but was terrified about what could happen to me. Last thing I said to him then was a threat of legal action if I ever saw him in my town. 2-3 years later, I'm like 15, my dumb ass goes back to him because depression, but after not even 5 months I left him again because he didn't help at all, and I was scared of him. He didn't act exactly how he once did but he still to some degree, emotionally abused me. Been in and out of therapy, depression isn't anything new so I don't think what happened is why I was diagnosed. Haven't spoken to him in forever, never ever will, but the fool probably didn't care about me. He had a good paying job and had basically all he could have ever wanted, as well as apparently other "slaves", he called them.
All in all, now I don't trust people and feel like a fucking whore for letting someone see every little part of myself when I was a preteen just because they ordered me too. I fucking hate emotional abuse, its like people don't even think its a legit thing, I've started to believe it too. Anyways, maybe that relates to this? Sorry if I seem too laid back about it but honestly I'm just glad he's gone, all of those men are gone, and that I'm safe now. Parents never knew about it surprisingly, that or they did and just never said anything to me.
Sorry if anything I said in here doesn't count or whatever.
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just remembered this sudden shock that's still got me reeling. apparently, i was sexually assaulted by the love of my life all through high school. it is very obvious looking back on it but when it was happening my reaction was pic related. it never dawned on me. now that my counselor has talked with me about that relationship i'm in denial. or was. i just want to die now, honestly. and she says that's why i have trust issues. now that i have accepted it and now know what was going on, i'm so sad for my 14 year old self lol. my mom, she hated that guy, and for good reason. i don't even want to tell her because i know she'll try to destroy him, and i know she'll tell her boyfriend and he'll want to maim him, and she'll probably tell my father, and then it will be a big bloody mess.
i'm tearing up now because i wouldn't have these weird feelings towards guys and no trust in them whatsoever if it wasn't for him. small things they do or say can make me turn on them. i wouldn't be so lonely lol oh my goddd i just want to pummel him.
he forced the sex to happen. we weren't together over two weeks and he was trying to finger me in the gym. i shook my head against him and he paused but did it anyway. and it was painful. he would finger my ass randomly and it frightened me because i'd never know when it was coming. i let this happen up until 11th grade lol, it just never clicked. every time i would try to talk things out with him it would somehow go to sex. he would somehow end up forcing his fingers in my ass and i would be drained of all emotion. that's how losing my virginity to him was. i was trying to talk to him about our relationship and how sorry and wrong i was and he started fingering me in the fucking hallway, and then he said let's go to his truck. and i agreed, and while we were there, i thought it would be just us talking and maybe oral but when i looked over he was pantless and saying "it's now or never, let's do it right now." i was cautious because we were in the school parking lot in a truck. he wasn't even worrying about protection! i tried to find the condom i had but he kept repeating "it's now or never…well i'm gonna leave.." and i gave up searching for it and gave in. when he put it in, i was on top and i was telling him that it hurt horribly and i was smacking his shoulders and saying ow, and he fucking shoves it deeper. and that's when i think every emotion in me evaporated.
that was the biggest betrayal of my life, and i can't let it go.
I don't really know how to start this off but here goes my story.
I had a really fucked up childhood. At one point, my mom let her boyfriend rape me. This was a daily thing for years and she acted like it never happened. When I finally came out about it to get help a few years ago, she told everyone that I lied and that I am "just crazy". But she knows what happened. Goes without saying, but this resulted in me not receiving the help that I needed (after being diagnosed with PTSD and numerous other issues) and made my distant family shun me (I was already kind of a black sheep but after this they never took me seriously about neglect, abuse, and endangerment at home).
More recently I dated a guy that made me feel amazing emotionally and sexually. I really thought that he was the one but after being together for a while he cheated on me, dumped me, claimed that he used me for sex, and continued to sexually and verbally harass me.
Him and I have been broken up for a while now but this seriously tore me apart. It also brought me to the realization that I've been used. A lot, in both sexual and nonsexual ways. I can't help but feel like a toy.
I can't help for a while because I'm in a bad situation at home right now, but venting about it here honestly helps so much since I don't really have anyone else right now.
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I dont really know how to start this off to be honest.
It was in my stupid just started college/party every night phase and I made some pretty bad decisions. When I met this guy I thought he was the funniest most handsome guy I have ever met, and we hit it off really well. He would spend the weekends with me in my dorm looking up stupid youtube videos and drinking with me and I thought it was love because I was stupid at the time.
About a month into our ''relationship'' I go out with him to a party and he says that his mate (that i had just met that night) will let us crash at his place for the night because we were so far downtown and the coaches stop at like 2 in the morning so I thought that was sweet. We get there and have a couple of drinks and talk for a bit and then me and my guy went into the guest room and laid down to go to sleep. And I hate myself so much because I can remember being so happy with my head on his chest and everything and then the door opens and his friend comes in and strides right over to the bed and starts to take my pants off. At first I was laughing thinking it was like a joke but then my guy pins me down and starts helping him and I start to panic and kick out at whatever. To my horror this guy i had just met starts forcing his fingers inside me while this guy i thought i knew and trusted put me in a sleeper hold and I couldnt move. I remember saying 'no please no ' at least thirty or fourty times and looking into my guys face and just seeing nothing there.
At one point i remember thrashing and falling off of the bed then trying to run for the door to be grabbed by my hair and thrown to the floor by his friend. They both laughed and were like 'you say no a lot' and his friend ended up fucking me on the floor of his dirty ass apartment while i just laid there and hoped it would end. Its around this time my guy ''friend'' goes to leave the room and asks if he could have his K and pack of smokes now and his fat ugly pimply ass friend says yes and he leaves without even a backwards look at me.
I dont know how long it went on for but it felt like a lifetime.
When it was all done and he got off of me to go to the bathroom I didnt even wait to grab my pants or get my shoes or my purse - I just ran out of the door to the street wearing nothing but a t shirt and a sweater to cover my legs and ass. I remember running to the bus station with this strangers cum dripping down my legs and just feeling so small.
It was only later on when I was able to look back on the situation with some objectivity that I realised that I was essentially sold to a guy for a night for a pack of smokes, a couch to sleep on and a vial of K. It feels awful to know that my entire existence was only worth that much to this person I thought genuinely liked me.
Fast forward to 3 years later and Im living in an apartment with a man that treats me like a princess. I still wake up at night in cold sweats thinking about that night though. I hope eventually the pain goes away but I dont know if it ever will.
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I don't talk about these because I always get the canned and obvious "You should have told someone" response which makes me feel 100x worse.
When I was 12 I was still going to a pediatrician because my mom couldn't afford anything better for my age. She wasn't in the room when I was getting a check-up and after all the usual shit he had me lay down on the table-bed thing (which was comically way too short for me).
He said he had to check on my development. He then proceeded to lift my shirt, feel me up, lift my pants, and feel in between my thighs. I was pressing them together in some combination of fear and shock, but completely confused as to what was going on. I still have a memory his voice uttering a sort of mumbled "You're developing quite nicely."
I said nothing to my mom, not just about that event but about anything. I was so caught off guard and confused by the whole thing and whether or not that was something he was supposed to do (again, 12, and mildly sheltered).
Sometime after that I became hyper-sexual and looking back I'm not sure if it was just hormones or if that event did have some effect. Years later when I actually dealt with it and realized it was wrong, I felt a ton of regret for not knowing or saying anything because it bothers me thinking he may have done that to others, but there was nothing I could do at that point.
I spent my teen years having very little regard for sexual safety, but due to my mom's crazy and micro-managing, most of that came out through online relationships, until I was an adult.
When I was 22, I was staying in a friend's apartment, provided by his school, but I wasn't allowed to be there and if I was found out, everyone could be kicked out. I decided to poke around Facebook to see what old childhood friends were up to and happened to find this kid who lived down the road from me for about 3 years before vanishing mysteriously.
We hit it off and since he still lived in the area and we were really close in those 3 years he was around (he was my first crush when I was 11). I got him to come out and visit. Given how close we were as kids, and how risky my current living situation was, I decided to move in with him, thinking I'd have more freedom.
Well, I fucking didn't. I also didn't consider how much someone could change in a decade. He was no longer the sweet, introverted nerd kid I knew, and was now a sociopathic douchebag with mountains of insecurity.
To him, if I was living there, I was his property, emphasis on "his". He was fine the first month, but after that he began using all forms of emotional manipulation, convincing me that my friends didn't actually care for me. Since he'd been around during my worst years of not fitting in during Middle School and all the bullying I faced, he knew how to get under my skin. Coupled with the fact that my mom was dead and I grew up without a dad and trying to reconnect only caused a fight and he cast me out just 2 months prior to living with this guy, I was gradually convinced that I didn't have anyone who really gave a shit.
I'm a tiny vagina, and he was fairly sizable, so sex hurt and was uncomfortable and I was also nearly asexual at that point due to lots of regrets about my history (especially since my mom died while I was running away from home being a ho). He didn't give a shit that I didn't want it. He got angry, repeatedly told me I "owed him" for living there (even though I was paying rent). I would try to shower and since the door had no lock, he'd walk in and start feeling me up, and eventually force himself on me. I told him repeatedly that I didn't want it, but did it anyway, and after he left I'd sit in a ball and cry. I started showing while he was at work and he'd come home and start antagonizing me, saying I smelled, claiming I was lying about showering.
At night he'd start groping me, holding tight if I tried to struggle, putting my hand down his pants and grasping onto my wrist so I couldn't pull away.I was low on sleep, and since I'm diagnosed with PTSD, I started having more and more bad flashback dreams. I told him about them and he gave me some bullshit quote about how as adults the monsters under our bed become monsters in our head.
About three months in I really didn't know… pretty much anything anymore. I don't really know how to describe it but I was pretty lost. I became incredibly suicidal because of how lost, alone, and hopeless he made me feel. I couldn't even leave the apartment because he refused to get me a key and made it clear after I went to an alumni event during the first month that he'd be 100% willing to lock me out, and considering I didn't have a cellphone at all, well…
He insisted I was a child, started controlling what I ate (by the lat month it was 1 small microwavable cup of Chef Boyarde ravioli) and threatened not to bring home food if I didn't give him sex. I was already pretty skinny, and now I was also incredibly tired.
Sometime in Nov I had a pregnancy scare. When I told him, he ignored me for 2 days, but I managed to borrow his phone and contact the mother of a friend who lived 20min away to come help me. We picked up tests but I insisted we stay out as long as possible because I didn't want to go home. Later that night, during dinner, I started having really, really bad stomach pains and was taken to the ER and put on morphine while they ran some blood tests. Turns out I wasn't pregnant, but my cycle was incredibly fucked up. Douchebag ignored texts and calls from my friend's mom saying I was in the hospital -until- she told him I wasn't pregnant. It was likely caused by the lack of proper nutrition and sleep, but I didn't say anything.
That night did give me a bit more bravery and broke me out of my slump, so I started standing up to the douche. There were LOUD verbal arguments back and forth. Hilariously, since he's 5in shorter than me, he'd actually fucking climb onto furniture just so he could look down on me.
With relief, the forced sex started happening less frequently, but the other abuse got worse (this was when the canned ravioli thing started). I tried to get out via registered for medical assistance and getting a therapist, but they needed a statement from him saying I was living there but independent. He flat out refused to do this, stating that I wasn't independent because I was a child just because I had never been employed or gone to college (my mom died in my senior year of HS, I was a fucking vagrant. In any case this shitstain was a dropout who worked as Gamestop.)
I spent New Years with a friend who came down from an hour away, but lo and behold I wasn't fucking allowed back in, so I went to the house of that other friend whose mom helped me out before, and stayed 2 nights until I was let back in.
For the next few weeks, fights were more frequent and louder. I evolved from "child" to "crazy bitch" apparently. One night after another fight with him going above and beyond to de-legitimize the abuse and loss I'd experienced in my teen years, claiming that my mom's death was my fault because I ran away. He started asking for sex again, I refused, he surprisingly gave up and fell asleep, or so I thought. I went to sleep a couple hours later, only to wake up to him yanking down the back of my pants and trying to force himself into the "wrong hole". I immediately jumped, knocking him out of me and off balance, turned, and slammed his head against a wall hard. That was the first time I saw this kid with a look of fear on his face rather than arrogance.
Less than a week later, we get in another argument, and I ask for his phone to leave. He denies me, and goes in his room with the door shut. I kick it in at the knob, splitting the wood a bit. I try to take his phone and get help from my friend's mom again. He tries to wrestle it from me, I win and run around the apartment texting a "Come get me. Help. Serious." or something like that. I got a reply and threw his phone back at him. He was coming after me, fists clenched (he'd never punched me before or anything), but I had this massive rush of adrenaline and kept running around, shouting that he couldn't do jack shit to me because someone was on their way and if he tried, they'd know and call the cops on his ass.
He gave up and returned to his room, slammed the door.
That friend's family was moving out in a month so they'd previously said they couldn't help when I asked during New Years, but now they knew how serious it was and were willing to keep me temporarily. I had to leave a bunch of stuff behind and doucher's place because I was in such a rush to get out.
I spent the next few months repressing everything and trying to forget, I didn't wan to acknowledge anything that happened, so I found a ton of distractions (drinking heavily whenever memories came back up). It took 4 years to even begin to process it and it wasn't until then I actually ran it through my head that every instance of what he did was rape. Like, even now I get this feeling in my chest when writing that word because it bothers me to associate that word with what he did, but that's what it is.
Last winter was when I first started to actually try and deal with it, but it was rough. I did a shit ton of drinking (housemate was a liquor clerk), and would walk down the traintracks behind my condo sometimes when either sober or only mildly tipsy considering throwing myself on them, but the only thing holding me back was stories of people throwing themselves in front of cars and trains and how horrifying it was for people who had to deal with it. It wasn't just the rape, but a lot of other things he said that got to me, like blaming me for my mom's death.
I'd lost a lot of my desire for physical sex after that, but still had enough of a sex drive to talk about sexual things. Another crush who I trusted came to visit in the spring and I couldn't manage to enjoy sex with him despite my feelings for him, like that part of my brain was just shut down once it came to the physical act. I got involved in a relationship with a guy whose voice sounded almost exactly identical, and had a sleep-groping problem until I stacked pillows between us. He was really innocent and a bit of a pushover, but it still made sex incredibly rare and I didn't have the heart to tell him why.
I still struggle with it and only have one week a month where I get REALLY horny (likely just hormones). I've had sex with my boyfriend but I find it difficult unless I'm facing him so my brain doesn't start doing weird shit and bringing those memories back. I'm very wary of men and have even cast out male friends who have shown very needy sexual attraction.
I have a lot of regrets about not reporting this one either, but at the same time, when I thought about doing so while processing it last winter, I realize there's nothing that could have been done. He didn't beat me to leave marks, I lived with him, so there was nothing that I could take to court about it.
I looked him up again on FB a couple weeks ago and he's apparently dating some woman who looks like she could be his mom, so I like to hope he's grown up and that I was the only one he put through all that.
Anyway sorry for the novel, I didn't intend to write this much but it feels good to get it out.
Yes, yes, yes.
As a kid I showed nearly every symptom. I was so sexual, to the point where I was masturbating in public at 4-5, I would always touch myself to really violent/sometimes gory stuff, and always talk about sex to friends even though I shouldn't have even known half the shit I knew?? And now I have horrible, awful dreams constantly about molestation or rape, usually molestation with groping/grinding, which makes me wonder if that's what happened, and nowadays I get sick to my stomach if I touch myself or anything touches my nips (sorry if tmi.)
It really sucks. Half of me wishes that I would just know if it happened or not so I wouldn't be stuck in this hell of not knowing.
Repressed Memories was/is a commonly accepted happening in Psychology, but it's still a very bad idea to take it as a full-on truth.
What we do know: Memories change often. Our Memory of an event gets changed almost every time we speak about it. People increasingly believe reality-based dreams they had when they were younger as true memories.
Kids can be sexual at very young ages w/o trauma. You may have watched a show (remember daytime tv talk shows LOVED the sexual abuse drama), and peaked your interest to the point that you would develop an interest in sexual abuse stories/get aroused with fictional, trauma-based sexual situations. I remember I watched read a chapter in Chicken Soup for The Kids Soul about a girl's step-father touching her while she slept in his room during a storm, and I'd think "Does my dad do this to?". No. He didn't. He never did, but the more you read/expose yourself to the abuse dynamic, the easier it is to say "Well, certain pieces fit and it would explain My XYZ."
"If we assume, then, that some of the memories might be authentic and some might not be, we can then raise this question: If a memory is recovered that is not authentic, where would it come from? Ganaway (1989) proposed several hypotheses to explain SRA memories, and these same ideas are relevant to memories of a repressed past. If not authentic, the memories could be due to fantasy, illusion, or hallucination-mediated screen memories, internally derived as a defense mechanism. Further paraphrasing Ganaway, the SRA memories combine a mixture of borrowed ideas, characters, myths, and accounts from exogenous sources with idiosyncratic internal beliefs. Once activated, the manufactured memories are indistinguishable from factual memories. Inauthentic memories could also be externally derived as a result of unintentional implantation of suggestion by a therapist or other perceived authority figure with whom the client desires a special relationship, interest, or approval." - from The Reality of Oppressed Memories by Elizabeth F. Loftus
More from this Paper:
"Claims of corroborated repressed memories occasionally appear in the published literature. For example, Mack (1980) reported on a 1955 case involving a 27-year-old borderline man who, during therapy, recovered memories of witnessing his mother attempting to kill herself by hanging. The man's father later confirmed that the mother had attempted suicide several times and that the son had witnessed one attempt when he was 3 years old. The father's confirmation apparently led to a relief of symptoms in the son. It is hard to know what to make of examples such as these. Did the son really remember back to age 3, or did he hear discussions of his mother's suicide attempts later in life? The memories could be real, that is, genuine instances of repressed memories that accurately returned much later. If true, this would only prove that some memory reports are authentic but obviously not that all reports are authentic. "
"To say that memory might be false does not mean that the person is deliberately lying. Although lying is always possible, even psychotherapists who question the authenticity of reports have been impressed with the honesty and intensity of the terror, rage, guilt, depression, and overall behavioral dysfunction accompanying the awareness of abuse ( Ganaway, 1989, p. 211 ).
There are at least two ways that false memories could come about. Honestly believed, but false, memories could come about, according to Ganaway (1989), because of internal or external sources. The internal drive to manufacture an abuse memory may come about as a way to provide a screen for perhaps more prosaic but, ironically, less tolerable, painful experiences of childhood. Creating a fantasy of abuse with its relatively clear-cut distinction between good and evil may provide the needed logical explanation for confusing experiences and feelings. The core material for the false memories can be borrowed from the accounts of others who are either known personally or encountered in literature, movies, and television."
The whole paper is available here: https://faculty.washington.edu/eloftus/Articles/lof93.htm
I suggest reading through it as an alternative, and better researched opinion on the topic. Not to say repression does not happen, but generally once you venture into this subject you'll find a network of people validating each other's "uncovering", using classic PTSD and War Vet Amnesia as "proof" that Repressed Memories are real and happen often. I'd rather arm people with a fuller picture of what's being theorized as happening before plaguing themselves with recovering past trauma.
I had my pediatrician do something similar to me. My mom was even in the room, but she was sitting behind him reading a magazine so she couldn't see what he was doing. I'd been having appointments with this doctor for a few years at this point so we were familiar and comfortable.
He was pressing his fingers on my abdomen and chest for whatever reason and checking things. Then he just casually put his hand down the front of my underwear and grabbed my vagina. He put his finger in part way and just kinda lingered there. He didn't say anything (no warning whatsoever) then just moved on like it didn't happen. It was scary, but I didn't say anything because I convinced myself that he was just doing normal doctor stuff. I definitely did not want to be considered a "whiner".
It definitely stuck with me. I would recall the event every now and then and wonder why it bothered me so much. Wasn't til I was in my late teens that it suddenly hit me that I'd been molested.
I told my grabdmother and she scoffed at me. She said this doctor was a nice man and one of the most trusted pediatricians in the community and that he would never do anything like that.
I was shocked at how callous my grandma was about it, but it's more alarming to me that this pedo is still practicing and has gotten by this long without being caught. He's in his 70's. I want to believe that I was the only one he did that to, but who am I kidding? He's probably done worse.
I'm really fucked up right now. Yesterday was supposed to be a chill day and I ended up telling my boyfriend and mom that I think I was abused as a kid by my stepdad.
I say think, because for the life of me I don't remember my childhood that well… Only bits and pieces and I only really remember highschool up. Yesterday I felt so relieved to say something but now I'm doubting myself. My stepdad did some shit but, I don't remember him like this and I feel so guilty for even thinking like this.
But in a weird way it makes sense because what I do remember was weird… I was weirdly sexual as a kid, I played with dolls till like I was around twelve and my favorite thing to do was pretend they where fucking. I'd decapitate them, take their faces off with nail polish and I even had a cabbage patch kid which I wrote "sex" all over. I still have that doll and it's the only real "evidence" I have.
When I got into highschool I'd let guys finger me in the hallways and empty classrooms, I jerked a guy off in the woods and the cops told us to leave, I used to drink vodka when I got home early and my stepdad never said anything about it, plus I'm a pothead (I was high when I accidentally told my boyfriend and he convinced me to tell my mom)
I've told both of them I'm not sure if it's even real, and I'm definitely not going to try and press charges or even figure out if this did happen.
Yesterday wasn't the only time this thought crossed my mind, the first time I felt it was like in December… TMI but I was in the car with my boyfriend going home one night and I could just feel a vaginal pain like nothing else. My mind flashed to my stepdad but I told myself I was just remembering the first time he taught me to ride a bike. I still believe that but, fuck I'm confused.
I googled repressed memories and I relate to quite a bit… the most noticable is the fact that I peed the bed till my late teens, after I knew I'd never see him again.
The worst part is that… for some reason I remember liking the "attention" I got.
Yesterday I felt so relieved to talk about it but now I feel guilty because, what if I lied and made everyone feel bad for nothing? Why would I even do this in the first place?
The memories I had yesterday where so fucking vivid and now I can't remember anything at all.
Someone plz tell me it was the weed.
That's def sexual assault, look up the legal definitions. To put it into perspective, it would have been rape if he'd penetrated you with anything.
I'm really sorry that happened to you anon, but you're not overreacting at all. That's shit that predatory
teenage boys do, and it's not normal or ok.
Thirding a creepy pediatrician story. Mine used to check my vagina out every visit. Like just fiddle around with it and look at it. I was never sure why he did this. My mom would be in the room. Idk. When I was about 10 it made me feel really disgusted (I didn't know why at the time, but I really wanted to cry. I held back tears because I thought I was being a baby and this was normal), so I asked my mom to change to a female doctor.
Surprise surprise, new doctor never did this to me.
To add to the shitty, I opened up to my abusive ex about this finally while we were dating. He basically immediately told one of our neighbors (not even a good friend or anyone trustworthy) about it, just to return tto me to tell me that our neighbor told me that I need to get over it. Like what the fuck.
My current BF is so kind. When I told him he held my hand, apologized for it happening to me, and told me that nobody should have ever done that to me. I cried because I finally felt like I wasn't being irrational about the situation. Finally, someone else saw that it wasn't okay.
Ironically?, having the feedback that it wasn't okay made me feel worse about what happened and about my ex just so casually talking to my neighbor about something that traumatized me and then berating me for it. I guess because I finally feel as though I'm allowed to feel bad about it.
I'm happy my current BF is helping me work through these things. I know I'll get better some day.
It is a big deal. Every time he touches you, it's him claiming that he has more right over your body than you do. He does not. Your body is yours. You deserve to be free of his touch. You deserve to keep your body to yourself.
I know you're afraid of losing your friends because of your female friend potentially being a "bad friend" and chosing her partner over you, but it would make you a good friend to tell her. She deserves the knowledge that could free her from a bad partner. You deserve to be free of unwanted touch. It could be really good for both you and your friend.
You deserve to own your body and be safe. If everyone abandons you after that, come here and let me know. I'll talk to you. >>56748
I'm proud of you for sharing with us. You did a great job! Thank you, from one human being to another, for allowing yourself to be vulnerable enough to take this small step towards healing. You deserve to feel and be happy. I love you, stranger, and I'm sorry that you had to go through that. If there's somebody that you know that genuinely loves and trusts you, opening up to them may be helpful if you ever find yourself ready
Again, thank you both for sharing. I hope that you have wonderful days and find freedom from your pain soon.
OMG this. I was molested at age 9 by a guy who was friends with my mom and rented a room in our house. I am still livid about what happened to me and that nothing was done. My mom refused to admit she knew anything but she did. When I confessed about the assault, her response was like "if I'd known I would have kicked him out." Kicked him out?! WTAF that would have been your only response? It sickens me. Also she casually made reference to seeing him around town years afterward, like it was nothing. This guy did time in prison and hurt other girls besides me. The police came to the house looking for him, bullshit she didn't know. Also a few years ago one of my childhood best friends called me out of nowhere, we had not spoken in over 20 years. She told me so much more about the stuff going on back then. So much I didn't know. He sexually abused her too, at my house. Back then we were so young and didn't know better that it was wrong. It makes me feel so guilty and disgusted. Apparently my mom was the one who made us stop being friends after that. My friend who was also assaulted told her family and they did the right thing and pressed charges. There was a whole court case and everything and she had to deal with all of that alone. I could have testified too, I could have supported her…but my mom cut off contact with her parents and we could never be friends again. I have so much guilt and anger. Her life was completely ruined. She had a litany of abusive partners since then, and last we spoke, she was deep in a meth addiction. I finally confessed about the abuse to my dad several years ago and his response was, "but I asked you over the phone if he touched you and you said no!" I was scared and ashamed and felt guilty and that it was my fault and I couldn't verbally admit it to him back then…he believed my no. This piece of shit who abused me worked in a daycare and hurt many other kids. He did time in prison but eventually got out. How in the fuck could my mom not know? I was a really messed up kid. There were tons of red flags…but my mom, being a sociopath, felt nothing and did nothing. Anyway I just meant to commiserate anon, sorry for the long post. You are not alone. I think you have every right to be angry. Some things fuck with us for life and it isn't a walk in the garden to get over stuff like that. I think the anger can be healthy. It means we know what happened to us was wrong and an injustice. It's better than being ashamed or blaming yourself, you know? I hope you find peace and healing anon. I hope that for me and for all of us who were violated in this way.
I'm not the anons you are responding to, but thank you so much for responding to them because reading your replies feels very validating and good for me. I hope you are having the best day you can possibly manage.>>56753
Yes, I'm an anon from many posts back with a lot of obsessive anger 6 years after abuse. Have you ever spoken to a counselor? Mine told me that anger is a very understandable part of recognizing that we have been hurt and that power was taken away from us. We are told that anger is a bad emotion, but the anger is ours and it's our right to feel it in the same way that our bodily rights are ours alone. Mine couldn't tell me how to break down my anger but recommended writing it down for only a short set amount of time to 'park' it, speaking to someone in person and also doing CBT emotion flowcharts to address your feelings. This time 2 years ago I used to lose almost every day I was alone to obsessing in anger, but now it is more like one concentrated streak of anger every month and a gentle undercurrent of hatred, progress is slow but it's there. Good luck to you and the other anon in your futures.
>>56797>When I confessed about the assault, her response was like "if I'd known I would have kicked him out." Kicked him out?! WTAF that would have been your only response? It sickens me.
When my mom found out my step-brother had molested me for three years, she just handed me a wad of cash out of her purse. I was floored, wtf! How is that supposed to help me?!>>56802
I started un-packing everything two years ago, and it's been a bit of roller coaster. I came to the realization that I had been downplaying my abuse and started to realize how bad of a childhood I truly had. I was assaulted by three different individuals at three different points in my childhood. I wasn't counting the first two, since I was super young (first I was four, second about 7 or so), and they only happened once. I have hard core Reactive Attachment Disorder issues, so talking about feelings to anyone takes a lot of trust and my first therapist lost it.
Eventually, I started having PTSD attacks to the point where I had to go a few times to the Psych ER. From there they put me in intensive group therapy with DBT. To be honest, I understood and liked DBT more than CBT. But my personality disorder hindered those sessions since most of the time my brain says "Tell them everything is fine, no need to instigate further attention, attention of any kind is bad new bears"
They released me from the program, in which I had appointments with another round of doctors out of the program, but I decided it wasn't worth going through the pain.
I'm in a better place now, and the only reason why I get flustered is when I see my relatives happy, talking about their perfect lovely fucking lives. How nice it is that their parents paid for their car and education, and can essentially just slide right into normal life. While it seemed for me I had to jump through hoops made of fire, and get labeled the weird goth.
But in the end, I just tell myself its not worth the anger. That I should be happy that there at least a good number of people who get to have wonderful perfect lives. To make a difference, I need to work with others to make sure that this shit doesn't happen to the younger generations.
I'm so glad you're in a better place. You and everyone else shouldn't have to feel guilty if you ever slip up on it, you are and enough and important that these feelings are valid, please don't ever feel like you need to minimize these feelings just to live up to some standard or ideal unless it's your own ideal.>To make a difference, I need to work with others to make sure that this shit doesn't happen to the younger generations.
This. I'm not strong enough to volunteer with any of the support services just yet but I'm doing small things like donating when I can, making sure that younger kids in my or my friends families are getting the right messages and just keeping my eye on anything where my contribution could help in some way without outing myself as a "survivor". Every person deserves to be safe.
Have you figured anything out in the past month?
I too am struggling with questionable repressed memories. I had a dream about being molested by a family member, and it felt SO real. I was angry in this dream, which is what makes it stand out from other similar dreams.
I woke up and just bolted up out of bed and sat there for a while.
I don't know, man. I hope we both find what we're looking for.>>55435
I know how you feel. My ex was abusive too, and because of this I ended up staying with him for 6 years.
Alternatively, we rarely fucked (maybe once a week)so I was often eager (especially considering I was neglected the rest of the time). Though the only way he would have sex with me was by barely waking me up from my sleep, sticking it in for a minute or two until he bust, and then rolling off of me to go to bed. No touching me. No cuddling. Just what he wanted.
One time he stuck it in my ass without warming me up, and it hurt super bad so I moved away. He started crying and having a full blown "WHY ME?!" fit over it, stating that he could never get what he wanted. I tried to console him, offering blowjobs and vaginal, but it wasn't enough. He made me feel like shit.
When I left him, I returned to collect my things. He tried kissing me, but I stopped him. He continued to kiss me, and coerced me into sex with him. I don't think I ever told him yes. While I laid there I just started crying, though I did my best to hold back tears. I was being raped. I was raped. I don't know what to do with that. I feel like a don't even deserve to call it rape, even though I didn't want it and I told him no. He was my ex.
He also abused me physically and mentally on a daily basis, so I was terrified to try and act against his will further. Idk. Idk.
and thank you for replying to me. I want you to know that what happened was not your fault, that you should never feel like you don't deserve to call it rape. I've been there too with the disgusting "WHY ME?!" fits that my ex had too, our exes were not our responsibility. It's not our duty to excuse those other people for their actions, it's not your burden to forgive, you don't owe him anything and what he did was wrong. There is no right or wrong way for you to react to what's been done, so I can't tell you what to do with that but I sincerely urge you to reach out to a support service.
Obviously I'm still not ok myself, I'm really struggling with the mutual friend thing, but going to counselling through that service has helped a lot. It's given me tools to better deal with my feelings and there's more light at the end of the tunnel or something. Just having a irl person in a room or on the phone that I could say honestly say "I was raped" and "Do other women cry this much when they talk about it?" to really felt important in some way.
>>58021>It's not our duty to excuse those other people for their actions, it's not your burden to forgive, you don't owe him anything and what he did was wrong.
Thank you for saying this. I've been struggling with that a lot lately, especially since I've bit a bit of an asshole recently. I've been drinking too much, and texted him a few times calling him out for his abuse. I got rude towards the end though, and just insulted him (ex. I asked him if he even knew what it felt like to have arm hair; told him he looked like fucking turtle and that I hated him; etc.). I'm not that type of person, but I had so much fury inside of me that built up over 6 years of abuse. Being thousands of miles away and hiding behind texting, I was finally able to say whatever I wanted to without fear of being hurt physically or screamed at or gas lighted or blamed. It felt good, though I've been feeling guilty now. I've since blocked him to stop myself from being nasty, since my texts are now more petty than honest venting of everything he did to cause me pain.
My current bf insists that it's there's no need to apologize, as my ex was terrible to me constantly. I still feel guilty for being negative instead of being a shining light of positivity and kindness through all burden like I usually am.
If it's not too much to ask, what do you think of me being petty toward my ex? Did I deserve that sort of relief, or was it something I should regret?
Again, Thank you so much for that line, and thank you for being a friend to me on the internet. I've been feeling so lonely and scared today. Your response means a lot.
and I just wanted to add that those fucking "WHY ME?!" fits are so fucking stupid and annoying. Like he'd literally throw a pity party, wailing "WHY ME, WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!" and crying any time anything went wrong.
God forbid I mentioned that I, a person with depression and anxiety that moved away from everything she's ever known to be with her bf at the time (only to be abused), mention that I was sad. Even saying that I felt bad would cause him to tell ME that I
was throwing a pity party! WHAT A DICK! And if him "helping" me (picking at me jokingly) when I was sad didn't cheer me up, he would get angry at me for not feeling better. I hate him so much.
how in your mind is this even in the definition of sexual abuse.
i can't stand cunts who are like "lollll well i knew too much about sex at a young age so i must have been abused", like no, some kids are just always interested in genitalia because it's taboo, or maybe they once saw an ad or movie that was too graphic for them at their age but they don't remember it.
Im not gonna tell you it happened for sure because the hell I know. But from all Ive read it absolutely sounds like it. The fucking barbies thing? Had that to. And this obsession about sex as a child, like an urge to bring it out by playing while not even remembering it back then.
Even the doubt you now have. It's nearly text book.
About "liking the attention"… that's so common for survivors of sexual abuse. It's absolutely normal for a child to like attention and to thrive towards it. It's even worse for emotionally neglected children and makes them an easy target for pedophiles (and some even cater to that). You didnt know what he was doing. Even liking the attention, doesnt mean it's your fault or that you in any way are to be accounted for it. He was the adult.
I think you're reaching a point where you notice the "adults" in your life are not acting like sane adults. It sucks, but its good to pick up on these behaviors before it takes a huge emotional toll on you. Especially, when its not your doing.
If it were me I would have called your aunt out on her petty bullshit. You're the cause of her potential divorce? lol nah, thats all on her and her shitty husband. Don't let shitty people manipulate you because of their shitty emotions. Time to learn some boundary setting. I'd recommend low contact for now.
Whatever you do, don't let it slide.
Don't be weak or afraid of whatever, please, for fuck sake.
Do never let yourself be a human carpet.
I guess yeah. It's a lot to come to terms with so much obvious uncomfortable interactions in such a short time.
I attempted to tell her to stop contacting me because I was uncomfortable with her forcing me into interactions(she calls/texts me every single day and usually asks me to come over to her house most weekends now) and she threw a fit, saying stuff like "if you hate me just tell me", and that my mother and I should move out of the house we share with other family members so she can move back in and not have to deal with us. My mother has also been hit on by her husband so I guess it makes sense to include her in being forced out of the house(and by extension, family)? I don't even know what she's doing anymore.
No, haven't really made any progress. Just reoccurring nightmares.>>58070
I kind of realize this now but.. I just don't know. I kinda just want to continue thinking this never happened to me
I'm in the same boat as you, and it's very hard for me to be sexual with my husband unless I drink or get high first so I can be relaxed enough, otherwise even if I initiate the sex and I enjoy it there ALWAYS comes a point where I just start panicking and sobbing and just, have a huge panic attack. He's understanding and he knows what happened to me but it's still so embarrassing and I can't stand it.
Also, does anyone else here who is a CSA victim experience other mental health problems as an adult because of it? For example I know my disassociation began when my CSA began, and I feel like there are other people living in my head. One of them is the physical embodiment of what I was conditioned to be as a child. It was (at first) """otaku"" lolicon men who did it to me and wanted me to be a loli/little sister when I was 9-10. So I have a personality I feel like just appears in my body without warning that is that like, lolicon otaku girl and I start binding my chest and just. Phasing back into it even though I'm 21 now. Another thing is I feel like its impossible for me to grow up now. My room is so childish, I collect toys that remind me of when I was a child before I was molested/raped, disney princess/power puff girls stuff. Actually its specifically from when I was 5-6, before sexual abuse but I was being beaten and verbally abused at that age. Anyway, I'm extremely dependent and childish and I feel like I'm clinging to my childhood and trying to relive it and I feel like I can't stop. My husband doesn't mind this at all and enjoys taking care of me, but I know some of my family members think I need to stop liking childish things, idk I'm just rambling. I want to be a child forever, but a happy child who is not being beaten or raped.
it gets hard to explain because it gets confused with dissociative identity disorder a lot, which you do not seem to have, because for that you would have to need chronic amnesia about days months and years in your life to happen as a major factor.
what you describe is in some sense a milder version of it. like every healthy personality is consisting of many, many aspects of personality. like you can be a housewife and at the same time a sensitive woman, at the same time you have a job that takes different requirements on you, and so on. also every person has something called the "inner child", as in the person you were as a child.
people that experienced trauma in childhood usually have dissociated the aspects of personality which is what you describe. it's also called traumatized identity, of course it's worse when the trauma is occuring in childhood because the identity hasnt even developed fully.
People with a consistent personality are aware that they take different roles e.g. at work and at home. A person with dissociative identity disorder would switch between those states and then only remember being at home, not remembering the prior hours at all. A person with traumatized identity can be confused about who they really are, they can suffer from depersonalisation where they feel strange about how they handle situations and such, but they do always remember. Simply put together thats the difference.
I have that too. My father was very authoritarian and verbally, physically and emotionally abusive. When authority figures are strict with me or other people take up an authoritarian tone, I immediately and automatically switch to being very obedient. It's especially weird since beside that reaction Im rebellious and predominant and such.
you can read a little about traumatizide identity here:http://childhoodtraumarecovery.com/2013/05/17/childhood-trauma-identity-problems-and-how-to-tackle-them/
If possible you can look for professional counselling in sense of psychotherapy.
I was molested by my stepfather starting around the ages of 10 or 11, idr really; it's been going on even to my early-mid 20's. I don't really want to talk about how exactly bad I had it without being constantly triggered all day for writing this, like I'm getting as of right now so I'll just write this first segment as short as possible. All I can really say for the moment is that I wasn't raped (though there were at least one or two attempts, I'm not sure since I mostly try to block it) but there were things I didn't want to see, hear or even feel as a kid. And every time that happened I scream or cry until he gets annoyed and leaves me alone.
Many, many years later I decided to break silence to my therapists as of late last year because I couldn't handle the influx of occurring flashbacks from other (physical and mostly emotional/mental) abuse caused by both parents and got (properly) diagnosed with major depression and PTSD with psychosis afterwards.(I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder before)
One time I told my psychiatrist that my stepdad was trying to grab/harrass me again and after about a week without my knowledge, he and my previous therapist decided to call (and inform me about) APS/CPS and reported what was going on mostly because there was a 3-year old (my nephew) involved in the hellhole I still call home.
The reason why my nephew was involved was because I confided about my brother's illegal drug and alcohol abuse and how he's constantly abusing his girlfriend, along with how my stepdad is physically and emotionally abusive toward my mother whenever he gets drunk. I thought these people were gonna keep this shit confidential but I guess not, and by that time it was completely out of my hands.
All nine immediate family members plus gf were interviewed…
A few months went by and I denied any allegations (the molestation) thrown at me for the sake of the rest of my family not hating me for ratting them out like that. I couldn't bare the thought of them disowning me for what I've done so I stfu. However, I have a strong feeling my mom knows about my stepdad molesting me; probably knew for awhile and I think during the interviews pretty much confirmed it. Nowadays she stands as a stronger barrier between us (me and that asshole I'm still forced to call "dad").
After everything cooled off he still continues to harass me, I try to avoid him like the plague or give him dagger-eyes to make him leave me alone or pretty much just ignore his very existence but that can be hard sometimes because we're all living in the same house. The man made/makes my life a living hell just because I'm not his biological daughter (my mom married him three years after I was born) and I sometimes believe he's the devil in disguise. I'd tell my shrinks he's still continue to make advances towards me but am afraid another "crisis" will come of this again and I don't think I can handle it one more time.
Because what had occurred in the past, I have a hard time trusting men without feeling paranoid of being taken advantage of due to being deemed "weak" (especially older men whom obviously had ulterior motives disguised as friendship) unless I'm in a safe area of wherever with both genders involved and am repulsed by the idea of sex even though I'm straight/cis.
As long as I'm still living with them, I'll be constantly on my guard like I always have been until I hopefully/finally transfer to uni. For now, I'll just have to continue with my routine of school and work (if I land a job); just living my own life which helps.
>inbe4 why are you still living with your parents?
With this economy, and having to wait a year for an apartment in the blind (and if you're just disabled) community, I don't have much of a choice in the matter. Sure, I could go to one of the women's shelters but…it's just complicated.
>When authority figures are strict with me or other people take up an authoritarian tone, I immediately and automatically switch to being very obedient. It's especially weird since beside that reaction Im rebellious and predominant and such.
I am the same way as well, especially in a job or school setting. I'm usually independent in other areas but am forced to obay and rely on others because "they know best" or else
. This is something I really want to change, especially because I plan to go into law.
I was raped multiple times in high school.
In a way I'm almost thankful though that I was intoxicated each time because I couldn't really feel it, not sure if that sounds bad or not, but it's how it is.
What's almost even weirder to me though, is that it honestly didn't affect me until about a year after the last occurrence. & even then, I never really felt any feelings of guilt, sadness, or shame. Just pure fucking rage. It's shocking how many people called me a liar, said I was a whore and deserved it. I always knew people were cruel but not to that extent. Worst thing is, the last occurrence was a gang bang & there's apparently a video of it floating around somewhere, but the cops who came to my school did nothing. Zero. Zip. Nada. The worst that happened was one of the kids involved got suspended for like a week even though he had made a derogatory comment towards me concerning the event. I was really violent towards his girlfriend, I realize that probably wasn't the best/most mature thing I could've done at the time, but I was just so hurt. And more people were angry at me for calling them out on their bullshit than they were at them for literally raping me.
I'm doing okay now & I'm not asking for sympathy or anything. Just wanted to share my story because I think it's important to recognize that there's no 1 specific way for victims to feel after going through such a traumatic experience. My heart goes out to all other survivors, especially the ones who've yet to find peace.
I've never fully talked about this but this seems like a decent place to get it all out. My uncle, by marriage, was a total creep and every time I went to spend the night he would grab my breasts and ass, make sexual comments to me, in the mornings he would jump into bed with my cousin and I, pretending to be funny about it, but he always had an erection that he would press against me, or he would hug me/pick me up while pressing his erection on me. Come to find out he was also raping my cousin. He ended his life when I was 16 because she turned him in, so all of this happened before that age, I'd say around 12-15, when I stopped going around him.
At the time, I didn't know what to do about it and was too afraid to tell anyone so I just stopped going to their house to spend weekends with them, which I used to do all the time, those cousins were my best friends, and later, my little sister went to live with them. So long story short, it ruined my relationship with my sister and cousins because they always thought I was avoiding them and didn't want to be around them, I just couldn't bring myself to tell anyone what was really happening, even more so after finding out he was raping my cousin, because then I felt guilty that my situation wasn't as bad as hers.
I don't know what I am getting out of posting this here, I just need to get it out I guess. Sorry for any weird wording, I've had a few drinks, which I guess is what it took to get this out.
I got sexually molested by a female "friend" when I was young and I have a hard time befriending or getting too close to females now. This girl basically bullied me (she broke my finger once by slamming it into a door) but lived across the street in a small town, and my mom and her mom talked often, so I'd be stuck there with her when my parents were out. I was told she'd been watching porn and was trying to 'mimick' the acts. She'd make me take my underwear off and look at my crotch and she'd stick stuff in it randomly like toys or lipgloss tubes, then stretch my labia until I told her to stop, they're really long now and I always wonder if that had something to do with it. She'd get on top of me like the 'man' and stick her knee into my crotch and push down on it. It was always really embarrassing and painful and I didn't know what was going on. Her parents only found out about some of the stuff, because they found her on top of me, clothed, in a weird position. After this happened my mom forbid me from seeing her and we moved shortly after. I never told her exactly what happened but she asked if she did other stuff and I said yes. I have a hard time with toys now too because of the weird penetration that happened. I've grown to be disgusted by porn, and most sexual things that aren't just plain sex with my boyfriend, which took almost a year for me to be okay with. The last thing I remember about her was seeing her when my grade school and her middle school had an event together, then I never saw her again.