Anonymous Story: Black Hole

This is hard. Part of me is desperately trying to explain what happened
to anyone who would listen, but another part of me, one that has been
in control for much longer, refuses to relinquish control and trust any
one around me.

I guess what I remember most is the confusion.
Even after it was over many years later, the confusion tormented me… it
still does.
Why do I hate letting people in?
Why do I hate being touched even when it’s just a hug even when
I’m the one who craves it?
Why do I feel no attraction to others?
What is my sexuality ?
Why am I so different from everyone else?
Why can’t I just feel free instead of so tensed?
Why do I push everyone away?

These questions and so many more plagued me for years, and I hated to
think that this was caused by something that happened when I was a kid.
My “experience” was so different from what I would call a “typical” sexual
assault. I wasn’t threatened or hurt or pushed or sweet talked or
anything I thought had to happen for it to be labelled abuse. Truth be
told, I don’t thing either of us said much, maybe a few words from that
person when I was more reluctant, but nothing I really recall… not even
coercion. That made it worse in a way because I could never use the
excuse that I was “forced.” How could I ever call it that when I wasn’t
verbally or physically bullied. I never even said “no” or “stop.” It felt wrong
but How could I ever blame anyone but myself for my silence or for
simply not walking away. As silly as it sounds, I honestly though that was
an actual possibility-that I was the only one to blame for my situation.
There were times where I was able to get a short reprieve by saying I had
to use the bathroom and yet I would go back to the same position I was
in before. Could I have been more stupid?

I think I would have been able to Deal with it much better if I was actually
Harmed. At least then, my little brain would have (maybe) tried to get
away. At least I would have know that this was not okay. Instead my
abuser was gentle. I honestly thought that this must have been okay. We
were in a place that was surrounded by other people. Anyone could’ve
caught us. I could’ve whispered something and I’m pretty sure it would’ve
been heard. Someone could’ve stopped this, but I kept quiet. I let it happen.
A small voice in my head told me that this was wrong, But I ignored it.
I let that monster touch me and I did things in return. My first kiss was taken
from me that’s night. And till this day I can not even bare the idea of
kissing another person. I’m so revolted by the idea.

And what made it worse was that I so badly wanted to please this person.
( It makes me sick just thinking about it now. ) Everyone liked this person.
Everyone talked to this person, would talk about this person, and I felt so
left out. I remember thinking what I could do to get this person’s
attention. I want to so badly for that person to look at me. I guess I got my
wish… One that I so desperately wish I could take back. For the
longest time I thought I brought it upon myself. I mean didn’t I asked
for it?

It’s been almost two decades since my abuse. I am in my mid 20s now
and I still have never had a boyfriend. I find that I can not connect with
people. I even had a hard time identifying what gender I was even
attracted to. I had assumed that certain eccentricities about myself was
just part of my personality. But lately I’ve been wondering how much of
it was due to the abuse and how much of it was due to who I am. I hated
showing my body, I hated any attention I would get because of it, I hated
being touched, I hated being close to people, worst of all I was terrified
they would find out any thing about me.

I feel so far behind compared to everybody else that I sometimes don’t
even consider myself normal. I both want to be in a relationship and
fear it. Because that means letting someone in. I have come to
understand what happened long ago was abuse. And despite what I
thought I was never able to leave. I couldn’t walk away and I couldn’t
speak. Because once the despicable things started, it was enough to
paralyze me. And that person knew better. I know now that I was
nothing more than a tool for the person’s gratification. I feel so used,
so discarded that if in let someone in, I think they would see just
how broken I am. And even though there was never any vaginal
penetration, I still felt like I wasn’t a virgin. I was no longer innocent. So
how could I ever claim to be such. I felt disgusting and filthy in a way
that I could never wash away.

I always thought that it was unfair that I felt this way, like I wasn’t allowed
to be traumatized because of how it played out. I was lucky and so many
ways. My abuse ended fairly recently after it started because of events
not in my control so that person had to leave my life. And on the night that
everything could’ve been so much worse, something
happened that allowed me to escape. I was able to get away from the
person. Till this day I wondered what was that person planning with me,
on the bed, naked. No one ever found out what happened. And I’m OK
with that. I think the shame of anyone knowing would be worse than
just having to live with it.

At the time of my life, I had other things to worry about. My family
became unstable, my brother turned to drugs, my father started to drink
Openly, my mother became obsessively Religioud and I successfully pushed
everone who cared about me away. My father who was always
borderline narcissistic but at this point he just passed it. He was in a
bad car accident, and I guess that’s when it really went downhill. He no
longer hid his depression or his insecurities. He just pushed it all on us,
his family. He was suicidal, at least he used it to get peoples attention, So
we would feel bad for him. Then he was just became mentally and
emotionally abusive to everyone. Using mind games and multiplication
to make us feel that we were horrible people nothing more than
burdens. I really didn’t think much of myself . And things just started to
snowboard horribly. Looking back, I realize that even though I had thought
I had dealt with it, i never fully had the time to except what happened
because I was always busy trying to keep everything together.
Only when my life finally calmed down, and I really started doing things for
myself that I realize how much the past still hunted me.

I never pitied myself, I never thought I had it as bad as other kids. I did
however wonder how my life would’ve been if none of this had happened.
I have come to realize that all the little things that have happened
in the past even if you don’t realize it affect you in the present. Doesn’t
matter how many times you tried to deal with it , it will always be there.
My past is a part of me. What that person did to me will always haunt me.
I just have to keep moving forward. I don’t know what the future holds;
Maybe Life will balance itself out and allows me a bit of happiness.
Maybe I will find someone who understands and can help me through it
Or maybe I’m not that lucky. For now I share my story with you. And hope
That it can at least offer some thing useful. I will not reveal who was
behind my abuse or what was actually done, because
that is irrelevant. It happened. Does it matter how or how long or why? I
feel like people want that detail so they can judge me on a scale “of how
abused was she.” I’m here to tell you that it doesn’t matter: whether it
was once or every night, whether it was done gently or through pain,
once someone lays a had on you, you are forever scarred.
But you are Not alone. Never forget that.
We are not victims. We are survivors! And therefore we are so much stronger
Than anything that could ever have been done to us. Together strong !