TW: covert incest, SA, misogyny

Until I had some time to heal, I hadn't had the chance to really process all of the madness I have endured over the years because it was all normal to me.

My father was in a covert incestial relationship with me. He loved making me feel violated with his suggestive touching, flirty remarks, and made demeaning sexual comments toward me from as young as elementary school age. It was normalized. He told me if I didn't let him touch me or voiced objections, I was the one in the wrong and he'd get aggressive, usually just grabbing by force.

I just had to accept I was a thing who wasn't allowed to have any boundaries or feelings. What I feel doesn't matter.

Fast forward, I met a guy and started dating when I was 17.

This guy did not care about boundaries. He would tickle me despite me saying no. I then later tried to have a serious conversation, telling him that it isn't a joke and it need to stop, he completely brushes me off and then later does it again. This was ugly foreshadowing for how he would treat me later on.

Sex with him made me feel like a dirty used sock. He'd get off and throw me away. If I said no to sex, he'd get mad and go cheat on me with other people. Multiple times he made me bleed. I'd tell him I'm hurting and to stop, he'd completely ignore me. Afterwards, I'd just want to get in the shower and scrub my skin with sandpaper until I start to bleed because I'd feel so disgusted.

My father did not like that I had a boyfriend. Not because of overprotective reasons. He was jealous.

He tried to split us up by doing asinine things, like making up stores that I was pregnant. He was obsessed with my body, constantly telling him every health problem I ever have was because I was having sex. He kept talking about my uterus to the whole family, alerting everyone in the family I was sexually active and shit talking me. He kept asking me how many babies I was going to have with him with a disgusted tone.

Afterward I cut ties to everyone involved after two decades of suffering, I couldn't fathom having sex again. I didn't date. After all, sex is my only use and if I can't give sex, then I'm useless. Getting a partner who doesn't give you sex is like buying a washing machine that doesn't work, right? I'm not a person, I'm an object and if an object doesn't serve a purpose to another person, then it's useless. Worthless. Should be thrown out and replaced.

Luckily I did finally date again and I met someone I feel safe with. I've made a lot of progress and mostly gotten over my hang ups over sex. My main struggle now is working through the fact that I have internalized the fact I am not a person and it's hard for me to comprehend the idea that I have value outside of what I can do for other people.

I just keep wishing he killed me like he threatened to. If I were gone I wouldn’t have to think about it. I’m trying not to be that way, but it’s really difficult. I won’t hurt myself because I don’t want to hurt my partner. I’m just incredibly depressed about how my mind doesn’t feel like my own. I’m constantly fluctuating between believing my trauma and thinking my mind has always been fractured. That I’m just a horrible sick person because of my memories or thoughts.

I’m trying to not affect others around me with my thoughts but I feel so isolated. I sometimes wish I hadn’t looked into my past and tired to figure it out. It feels like I took everything out and now I can’t put it back away. Like what’s the point? Who cares if it happened or not. It’s doesn’t even feel like me, it feels like a fake person or someone I don’t like. My mind keeps telling me it’s just something that happen to a body in the past so it shouldn’t matter, but I still feel tormented.

Between the ages of three and four, while I was in kindergarten, I was s*xually abused by my father.

He would also come home drunk (even on my 4th birthday) and beat or strangle me.

My mother struggled with severe anger issues and often took her frustrations out on us, though she was consistently kinder to me than to my sister.

She was more likely to consider my feelings or listen to my perspective. To this day, she blames my father for what happened and has a deep hatred for him.

Because of this, she treated me better than she did my sister throughout my life.

Even years after I recovered from an eating disorder that began when I was twelve, she says that my mental health struggles were a direct result of my father's actions. She never actually did anything about it when it was happening though.

For most of my life, she hasn't even shared a bed with him. I often find myself wondering: would she have treated me just as harshly as she treated my sister if it weren't for the trauma my father caused?

im so fuckin mad at myself

i (27F, married) ran out of birth control pills in may or june. i kept telling myself i would finally get set up with a gyno in the new city i moved to. it took me a few months to make an appointment but i did for October 2nd. like a week before they send me an automated text message that i need to reschedule my appointment. i call them, next opening is summer 2027. i say fuck it and set up a planned parenthood appointment instead

i should have just set up the planned parenthood birth control refill appointment when i knew i was going to run out. but i was scared. i fucking hate the gynocologist. i know nobody enjoys it but the dread for me is unbearable. my last two visits i had a mental collapse on the table while they did my pap smear and i didn't want to have to do another check up. it hurts so so bad to be touched man. like my brain is on fire. i just want the pills so i dont have to endure pregnancy because the thought of something growing in me and doctors sticking cameras in me and pulling a baby out of me terrorized me and has been in my nightmares since i was in elementary school.

now because i was too scared to go to the gyno im 8 weeks pregnant. i missed two periods before i got the balls to test.

im an alcoholic and have been drinking for the last eight weeks straight, there is no hope for this baby. additionally, my dad raped me when i was a baby. his dad raped him. ill kill myself before risking the same fate for my baby. ill kill myself before anything leaves this womb. but the hormones are making me have second thoughts, i cant stand it. in another life, i would have liked to be a mother, but not in this one.

im blessed to live in a pro choice state and i have an abortion scheduled at the end of next week. i will be terminating a 9 week pregnancy.

i feel it in me, my stomach feels tender. i feel like i have a tapeworm. i want to vomit. im so scared but so numb at the same time. i cant stop myself from reading all the ways my body is changing and information about the baby. its been giving me panic attacks, i have to stop but its compulsive at this point.

i want the next two weeks to pass so i can pretend this was all just another nightmare.

Wife and I have been very open about both our sexual partners, who they were, how old we were when we became sexually active, and the things that we endured. We are both on the way to healing, although she’s got a long way to go.
I had told her in the past about my cousin being a constant aggressor when we’re growing up, he was 2 years older than me, physically bigger, and I basically became a sex object for him after he hit puberty. She knew all this. But Friday night, I guess I told her about what happened if I was not exactly “clean” when we had anal sex my cousin would force me to perform oral sex on him until he was clean.
I never really thought it was a huge deal, grew up with it and know any better, but now she thinks it’s the worst part of everything I endured and she wants me to bring that up specifically to my therapist. Not sure I can do that or not, especially after seeing her reactions

I know this is probably something that no one can answer but me. But i wonder a lot if im actually transgender or if i just hate my body so much from my csa that i want it to be completely different. I dont like the feminine pronouns, and i like masculine ones but i cant tell if its because im actually transgebder or if i just hate the girl in frilly princess dresses that i was as a child. I don't even hate that i was that way, but i feel like i have to be distanced from it. i hate my old name and i like more body hair. I genuinely just cannot tell. Is this normal? Does it matter if it makes me happy, or am i damaging myself? Ive been living as a transgender man for years now and im happy with it, but how can i ever really truly know?

I just wanted to say hello. I'm confronting the fact that I am a CSA survivor after spending the last 30 + years in denial.

I had suspicions in my early twenties but convinced myself that since I had no real memories of abuse that it just didn't happen. About 1.5 years ago I discovered that the cousin I suspected of CSA has been on the sex offender registry in his state for that last 20 years.

I've been in therapy for the last 9 months, and it took me 3 months to even mention the possibility of CSA. Still no firm memories, but I have come to accept that something happened to me when I was no older than 3.

Now, I'm realizing that the effects of this abuse were devastating and far reaching. I'm in my fifties now, and it seems like I have lost so much time and so much of myself.

Thanks for listening.

Hi what songs do you people listen to?

hello everyone, I(21F) cannot remember anything from the years of 1st grade to the 8th grade. I thought that was normal, until past classmates told me stories of myself that I couldn’t even remember. I only have small fleeting memories.

I looked it up and apparently it was common with CSA survivors which leads me to my story.

TW this does contain explicit graphic material..

When I was about 5-9 years old I cant remember, a family friend of my parents came to visit. He was a famous politician from my home country. He wrote books, gave interviews, and is known as one of the freedom fighters that liberated the country. I can’t give too many details, because I’m afraid of my memory being wrong. I know for sure what happened to me though.

He slept over on the couch watching TV, my parents had gone upstairs and I was laying on the couch with him. He grabbed my hands and made me touch his genitals, and then he touched mine. I don’t think there was any penetration, but I remember being afraid to say no, and knowing it was wrong but afraid of speaking up and being blamed. I obliged and after acted like nothing happened.. I carry this memory with me to this day…

The other times were with my cousin as a child who was only 5 years older than me. If I said my tummy hurt, he would say he could make it feel better if I went into his room alone and was quiet. I don’t remember what we did, if there was penetration but I know it was sexually explicit and I knew it was wrong at the time but I had always wanted an older brother and I loved him very much. I continuously went back to him asking to help my tummy.. I forgot and moved on with my life as I grew older, my cousin and I barely speak to this day..

There were other times with a stranger/other kid at the swimming pool ages when I was 7-8 years old who would force me to play house with him and then would make me hold my breath underwater while he pressed his genitals up against mine. I was scared, I tried to say I wanted to be the dog or cat of the family but he kept pressuring me to say mom.

The other time was with an uncle I was maybe around 13-15 years old at the time, that me and my family still visit often. I went upstairs to grab a charger and although I was afraid of this uncle and knew he was upstairs I don’t know why I was afraid or if something happened before, but he forcibly grabbed me so I couldn’t pull away and kissed me on the lips as hard as he could.

At this day in time, I don’t experience any somatic or psychological distress from these experiences, I sometimes disassociated, but I also went through severe bullying by peers during elementary school. I cried a lot at school from the bullying and such. I felt shame from these experiences but wouldn’t speak up because I was a willing participant in some, even though I really wasn’t, I was just confused.

If anyone could help I would truly appreciate it.

dont wanna get into too much, i have dug into my memories before but i cant always just pluck it out of my mind, i have to dig into it and im not in the mental space for that so im only mentioning the stuff thats on the surface of my brain

Huge trigger warning for basically everything?

When i was younger i was exposed to porn and sexual harrassment/enmeshement/covert incest/sexual shaming/control/neglect/torture and physical and emotional abuse ect from a very young age so i was very developementally confused and hypersexual

I had a family member that would do things with me that i took as sexual but idk if they even registered it at the time. Some of the examples may sound like im looking for excuses to say it wasnt molestation but im genuinely not

Some examples are that i would sit on his lap and id see a bulge on his leg, idk if that was his dick or just a kind of bundled up fabric from his jeans but i would poke and rub it and he never stopped me, tbh he had a habit of ignoring people so much that you could probably stick a pin in his arm and he wouldnt notice, his mind was dead to the world. I would also grind my ass into his crotch and he never stopped me. i would straddle his thigh, facing him and he would hold my hips and bounce me on it and i felt really turned on and weird. Sometimes i would hump his leg and i dont think he noticed. Sometimes i wasnt allowed to sit on him and id wrap myself around his leg and his shoe would stick against my crotch. Im pretty sure it wasnt intentional, he doesnt have the psychological profile to be a pedo, hes just not like that but he did alot of inappropriate things i dont think he thought about at all. I remember he would jig his leg sometimes like he was trying to shake me off maybe but he was just rubbing his shoe on my crotch. I remember laying with him on a bed while i played with his nipples just because they were stuck up and he never stopped me. I know some guys dont get sexual sensation at all so it might not have ever crossed his mind. i dont think it would have, knowing his mind..

I also have memories of having a mans nipple in my mouth but im pretty sure i just thought about it at the time and now my brains not sure if its a memory or not.

He used to torture me alot and tickle me til i was blood curdling screaming, crying, nearly throwing up and passing out, hed pin me down and there was a point in my back that if he pressed his fingers into it, it would paralyse me so he could tickle me for longer. He used to treat me like his gf and get really weirded out by simple things when i was a teenager or even as a young child where hed start panicing.. like i was huffing and puffing and squeaking a bed trying to put a bedsheet on and i called for him and he came in awkward, scared and sweating and i could tell he was worried i was gonna ask him to do something sexual with me, this happened on multiple occassions but he always got weird about puberty stuff or anything that required support in general. Hed always call me a slutty/ a whore and accuse me of sneaking adult men into my room or talking to adult men or accussing me of being dirty minded about things i wasnt even though i was like 5.

He was always wierded about my sexual developement growing up. Separately he used to get gratification over psychologically torturing me and treating the family like a cult where we had to beg him for mercy and the right to live or do anything and praise him as a god, he got borderline sexual pleasure/thrills from seeing people suffer. He also used to take me to working mens clubs when i was basically a toddler and the men there were all pedos and murderers who would sexually harrass and grope me and he would ignore me or laugh in my face if i got upset/ranted to him or asked him to do something. i think he only did that because he was with his dad though and he wanted his approval. he was very often like that.

He would also tell me that if i got raped not to come crying to him because it would be my own fault but he was a misogynist and he was trying to put me off leaving the house because i was growing up and didnt want to be locked inside anymore.

He would sit me on his lap when i was little and get me to punch him in his face over and over, he was an amateur boxer and had a weird way of bonding and doing things and i think he saw that as bonding or teaching me how to punch in his own weird way. As a child and a teen he was emotionally enmeshed with me. He would also sit me on his lap when i only had a tshirt and underwear on (i didnt really own clothes at all so i was like this most of the time) and he would get a pen and draw all over my naked thighs. Sometimes if i snuck into his bed as a kid he would spoon me and press his soft dick into my ass and breathe into my neck. All of these example are from ages 2-15, not in order.

Tbh only i know this family member so im not asking you to say if he did or didnt physically sexually assault me or for anyone to understand his psychological profile because he was so weird hes hard to explain to a regular person, i promise you despite what ive said, im not making excuses for him. Unfortunately youll have to just trust me on that, i dont want it to divert from what im talking about because either way, it effected me.

I feel like i have to mention i was molested by another family member so i deserve to be here but this stuff was happening before and after that situation and it made me very sexually confused and i felt more molested by these strange situations than i did when i was actually molested

As I mentioned in a recent post, I am a 62 years old male survivor of incest.

I really appreciate everyone who reached out to me. And, particularly, the men who reached out who have also suffered similar abuse.

The main impact the sexual abuse has on me is, in terms of emotions, deep and intense rage.

And physically, it has wrecked havoc with my digestive system. I am not able to fully relax my anal sphincter and so going to the bathroom is a real challenge.

And I do not digest my food well.

When I mention my struggles to my primary care physician he has really nothing to say to me related to how trauma impacts the body.

And my therapist has no real knowledge regarding physical issues.

I know there are somatic therapists and all sorts of body workers but I doubt my insurance will cover that type of help.

Thoughts:

Hi everyone,

This is a new account because I prefer my experiences not be easily connected back to me. I was sexually abused by a trusted male figure as a child. It has effected me in many ways, but I find the most troublesome is that I seek to relive my abuse. In fact, I honestly feel almost addicted to seeking out content (NOT CSA MATERIAL OBVIOUSLY) or interactions that resemble the abuse I experienced. I really want to understand why I'm doing this so that I can stop it. Does anyone have any advice or resources that can help? Thanks.

about a week ago the memories came to me, confirming my suspicions

I both want and don’t want to tell my therapist.

my therapy is the free college therapy, so it’s not great. but I also don’t want to talk in depthly about it with anyone else because well they shouldn’t have to hear about that.

i just don’t want to talk about it out loud because well I feel gross and weird

but I know I shouldn’t.

ever since it came back I’ve just felt off and not really been able to function.

I need to unload everything somehow.

but I guess the thought of telling another person freaks me out…

I mean I know I’m saying it here but… that feels a bit different I guess

The past 2 days I’ve stopped smoking weed.. and funny enough have stopped feeling and believing that the repressed memories of sexual abuse from my father as a child were even real.

I had my first “flashback” just under two months ago after I had smoked and was doing tremor releasing exercise. Now I’m like huh??? I don’t feel anything about the supposed abuse and am questioning if this was psychosis or if I just made it up.

For context: I’m returning to my hometown (after being overseas for 3 years) in less than 2 months where my parents still live and wonder if this newfound doubt has anything to do with that…

TW: Possibility of CSA, but I really don’t know.

My recollection is quite spotty and confusing chronologically, but here’s what I know:

• I’ve felt very uncomfortable around, and afraid of, my father as far back as I can remember, especially when he initiates any sort of physical contact. As a small child, I viewed his room as a monster’s lair, to be avoided at all costs. The last time I was in that house, I snuck into his room when he was out to see if I might remember something, but it just got my heart beating fast and nothing else. As an adult, I’ve been extremely resistant to him staying over, since it feels like my home would no longer be safe. And when he did pressure me into letting him stay over, I hardly slept, as I was so on edge.
• From the age of 9 (when my parents divorced) to the age of 12 (when I finally got my own room, as had been promised and put off for years, despite it being a task that could be finished in a weekend), I slept in my father’s room, in his bed. My recollection of this is very minimal. As is my brother’s. We believe that the both of us slept in our father’s bed during this stretch of time. However, in the sparse memories that I do have, my brother is not present (likely, he was at sleepovers).
  • I would sleep over the crevice between the wall and the bed, to be as from my father as possible, but my efforts weren’t really successful because he’d insist on intertwining our bare legs together (he never wore anything more than underwear in bed, and usually went about the house in that attire as well, which is unsurprising, given he also wouldn’t close the bathroom door). He would tell me how this intertwining of our legs was something he’d do with my mum. I was very uncomfortable with this physical contact and the surrounding context, as I perceived that post-divorce, he kinda pushed me into what I identified, at the time, as an adult partner sort of role, putting everything on me, emotional concerns and beyond.
  • I do also recall the feeling of physical contact, my hand against a certain part of him, through fabric, but for all I know, this was accidental and only happened once. I don’t know details, but I remember the feeling.
• In addition to the memory I just mentioned, there is also a memory that I’ve always wondered about from when I was much younger. I know I was lying on my front. I know that the other presence in the memory is a man. And I know that I felt pain, non-specific but regionally relevant. I don’t know any details beyond that. I know that there could be so many other explanations for this memory, given how vague it is, so it’s probably not worth mentioning, but it feels sort of relevant, so I’m mentioning it regardless.
• This is also probably nothing, but I find it interesting that I was not afraid of the taxidermied wildlife in our house as a very small child, but around 5 or 6, I became utterly terrified of one specific taxidermied animal, notably the one that would be looking at you if you were lying on the couch. Still not over that fear.
• Having mentioned all of that, it feels like it’s worth noting that he’s only ever appeared in my nightmares, always as an antagonistic figure:
  • When I was very small, early elementary school, I had a recurring nightmare of him being a monster that wished me harm, and I’d hide in the cupboard in the hallway. He’d try to convince me that he was himself, not the monster, that he didn’t wish me harm, but if I fell for it, then it would immediately become clear that he’d tricked me. I don’t remember the nature of the harm that would occur in these nightmares.
  • Since then, he’s made many different appearances in my nightmares. Sometimes it’s just him leaving me and my brother in dangerous situations. Sometimes it’s him yelling at me. One nightmare featured his photography, in a different way than his typical wildlife/landscape photography. It’s perhaps worth mentioning that I’ve long been very averse to him taking photos of me, but it’s also never been a choice. They look nice enough, I guess, nothing concerning about the ones I’ve seen, but I can’t stand them. He gifts them to me sometimes, and I hide them away to collect cobwebs. Out of sight, out of mind.
  • And the most recent nightmare, the one that feels so real that it’s definitely left me in a much rougher place mentally, well, it’s not explicit in an extremely horrific way, but it is explicit, and very familiar to the way we slept. I’ve been in a bit of state ever since. Thinking about it a lot. Nauseous and gagging. Crying so easily. One day, I just curled up on the couch, no thinking, just distress. And on a different day, I started gagging in the shower, and then some more after, due to my brain telling me that my towel smelt like him. There’s just been a lot of distress.
    • Notably, I’ve always had a rough time with showers. Now, I maybe manage once a week. When I was younger, when I lived with him, it was usually at least three or more weeks between showers. I really avoided them. I guess, undressing, in general. Didn’t change my clothes a lot either (still don’t), got teased for that in middle school.
• I’m not sure if this is worth mentioning, but I’d also bring up that when my brother and I are physically affectionate, greeting each other with a hug, my father immediately will get rather moody, jealous maybe. He also acts this way when it’s us just paying attention to each other, having a nice conversation. Notably, he always pitted us against each other. As for my partner, he’s quite disinterested, hardly acknowledges her.
• Now, I know that you can’t look at specific traits and work backwards to the assumption of abuse with any certainty. And I also know there was a fair bit that was wrong in that house, whether this particular concern is valid or not, and that the other things that were wrong, they could explain some of this. That said, I have read about the signs different people saw in themselves, so I guess this is me mentioning a few more things that feel relevant.
  • I’ve been very fearful of men, still am, and specifically of them harming me in a sexual manner, as far back as I can remember.
  • I’m also very protective of my brother, and as a teenager, I would freak out about him interacting with adult men, even if it was just his friend’s uncle and there was nothing untoward.
  • I’ve been quite averse to physical touch from basically everyone but my mum and brother since I was a kid.
  • I did masturbate a bunch as a young child, but I’m also aware that that’s normal. And on the subject of normal, I know that friends of similar ages playing games that are kind of sexual in natural is normal developmentally, but I feel it’s worth mentioning that I was the one that initiated such and was rather desperate for certain games to be repeated (they weren’t).
  • Yet, as an adult, the idea of sex disgusts and overwhelms me, so I steer clear.
  • Even using a tampon feels like an impossibility because of the pain and panic. But really, pain down there isn’t anything new, or the associated panic. I was very avoidant of going number 2 as a child, would break down crying and insist on my mum holding my hand because of how scared I’d be, lots of pain and panic with such. That went on until I was at least 6 or 7.

I’m not sure if I’m missing anything relevant. As I said at the start of this, my recollection is spotty. This is just something I’ve been concerned about for a long time. I know that I already had concerns about such when I was 15 (which is when I expressed not wanting to be around my father anymore), likely earlier, really. Notably, I had this concern before I knew about my grandfather molesting his daughters, as I learned about that at age 20, which is also when I learned that I had only been protected from my grandfather because my aunt had sidestepped my father and warned my mother directly. If it wasn’t for my aunt going to my mother directly, I don’t believe I’d have been protected from my grandfather, despite my father having been made aware years earlier. That is just my suspicion, though.

So, I guess, does it seem like there’s something weird here? Do my concerns have any basis?

Hello! I 21F, have never been to therapy for what's happened. At some point I would like to, but I always just do the bare minimum with low commitment. I never really told anyone what happened until recently; I had decided to call the hotline to maybe clear my mind. I feel I am very detached from the events due to it happening when I was around 10 and stopping when I was around 19. Additionally, the heavy amount of brain fog does block a large amount of those memories.

I just didn't really feel like I could carry on the conversation. I felt like I was ready to vomit when the worker tried to console me; it made me feel so much worse than I was hoping it would, getting it off my chest anonymously. Hearing her have to leave the room, saying things like "oh wow..." multiple times, or trying to comfort me because it happened when I was so young made me feel so gross.

I just would like to get to the bottom of this. I know therapy would help a lot, but I couldn't even handle the phone call

I do feel alone in this sadly, the only person I had trusted to tell a bit of what happened was making jokes about being a groomed child on the infamous island for laughs from our other friends.

I hope this post makes any sense loll it's hard for me to get my thoughts down in this fashion

I still live under the same roof as him and I can't bear it.

The energy itself being in tbmhe same room as him, the energy. It is triggering. It pains me.

It is suffering.

I feel so weak, and hurt and disgust. ..my own father raped me and molested me and he don't feel any remorse. It feels like he had a good selective memory and could disregard everything as if it never happen or if he is just too pompous to feel like he could own me because im his daughter and he had raised me or whatever shit his excuse is with no morality or ehtical or humanity. To him, he don't feel like anything wrong, and he has no guilt, and worst, he won't stop.

He's not the best dad either. Nothing financially from him, he could not send me to education, he had given no protection, just nothing. His sick fantasy, touching my underwear and me and all, i feel disgusting and painful.

The pervert energy.. im in pain. Please help. Deep down I believe talking and nothing can help honestly. Unless I have amnesia or just end this life.

I'm in pain.

Does anyone else struggle with not having any concrete memories, but still suffering from the triggers, depression, hypervigilance, etc? The only thing I can remember is being in my room at night, and who I'm pretty sure was my Uncle quietly coming into my room, and I was so terrified I started crying immediately and he started panicking to get me to be quiet, and then my parents came and that's all I remember. But my entire childhood, all I remember is having fantasies about being tied up and abused by an adult, even before I really knew what sex was at all. I mean, that's not a normal thing for a child to be doing or thinking about, right? I just always feel such a deep shame about that. I haven't talked about this for a very long time, but I have a kid on the way, and I think it's been bringing up a lot of these feelings, and honestly I don't know what I'm really trying to get at here, I'm mostly just rambling and hoping someone responds with support, because sometimes it just feels like the walls are closing in on me and I can't talk about it because it's so insanely embarrassing

does anyone else suffer from this? i didn't wet the bed because i was still in diapers anyway when it happened (<- contains info about my csa) but i've been constipated my whole life. i thought barely pooping was normal. got a new roommate recently who's taller and stronger than me and it's kicked into gear harder than ever before. i tried using an enema, i was far too tense and i hated the feeling. i dissociated all day afterwards and time felt warped and fuzzy. (<- not csa related but could be triggering anyway)

i don't have many details of the actual abuse, just a few snippets, knowledge of who abused me, and strong reactions to certain words/phrases.

I must of been between the ages of 8-10 which would’ve made them 15-16 at the time of the abuse. It happened 4 times. My brother made me a victim of csa and I hate him for it. I never told my parents because I was afraid. I remember my mom having a falling out with a friend and I overheard on the phone her saying it was because they accused my brother of having done things to me and she couldn’t believe she could “make something up like that”.

That was my chance. I should have said something.

Now, I’m 32. Married. Happy. But this still hurts and is in the back of my mind no matter how hard I try not to think about it. My parents are emotionally immature and we are not estranged but I feel like we are getting closer to being so.

It makes me incredibly sad. My brother and I on the other hand are basically estranged. He has never brought up anything that he did and I think he thinks I don’t remember.

He has substance abuse issues. His marriage failed. And he is back living with my parents now. He is probably the way he is now because of guilt. I would think.

I have this fear that my mom still thinks about it and struggles with it being “unknown” especially since he was literally accused of doing it but I never confirmed it. It was just swept under the rug and I didn’t get to see that friend (who was like an aunt to me) anymore.

I feel like if I were to say it now, something terrible might happen. So it’s just not worth it to me. I guess I’m sharing it here to see if anyone else has had similar experiences or can relate. And if you can relate, I’m so sorry.

Today I heard the words in my ear 'you are a dirty slut'. He said that to me when I was 6 or 7. I came to his room for special cuddles because special cuddles is the only time he gave me attention, since I was 4, and I missed him. I came in the night excited to see him. He got angry at me. He called me a dirty slut. And he put me on his sour bed and shoved his penis (the first I ever saw) in my mouth.

I believed him. I was a dirty slut. Sex was bad. It was wrong to want sex. I was wrong for having a body that wanted another body.

His words were remembered by me today. And it hit me how long i've internalized what he said. He took a lot of years of enjoyment from me in that moment. And you know what? That ends today. Fuck you grandpa. You small man who felt so powerless you hurt your sweet precious youngest granddaughter.

I realllly needed to say that out loud. I will tell my therapist and my husband. They will be great. But you. This group. You people. I know you will understand. Thankyou for listening.

When I went through my first true therapy where I finally opened up to a professional and set it all out on the table so to speak So much of my shame confusion began to heal. You see I had been in therapy before but kept a lot of my abuses secret out of shame, and fear.

So in one session I admitted that my mind felt ashamed, my body responded and that after awhile I look forward to the feelings of being sexually touched. And that it made me sick to think there was enjoyment in the wrong going on. I even became somewhat hyper sexual with other kids so I was thought to be a nasty little girl.

The Doctor was young but kind and wise. He explained I wasn't old enough to understand what to do with my body senses being triggered. That our bodies don't know it's being stimulated by someone who shouldn't be or that it's too immature to experience what it was going on. And since that was not bringing me to a sexual completion I was literally walking around in a constant state of arousal. The adult me would have understood that and dealt with things in an appropriate way. But the christian child was feeling pleasure bodily but shame mentally and spiritually it all got mixed up.

My reason for sharing this I want anyone else who walked a similar path still confused about the shame and the confusion they had as inexperienced immature children this may clear it up for you