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Sufferer How Much Can One Person Really Survive?

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WiltedRose

I am 29 years old. I will be 30 in the not so distant future. Brace yourself for a long read.

When I was 13 I decided to write a letter to my mom. A letter telling her what my "father" had been doing to me, since I was 9. He molested me from the time I was 9 until I was 13 and it finally came out. I never got to give my mom that letter. That same day some detectives came to my school and talked to me about it and asked me so many questions. I was terrified.

Turns out a kid that used to come to our house after school, a kid of someone my mom worked with, had told his mom he'd seen something and she'd called the authorities. When my mom arrived at the school she was scared, she asked why I had answered the detectives questions. I'm sure she was in shock, my "father" was a very controlling, inconsiderate, manipulative bastard to my mother.

Long story short, I ended up being convinced to tell the detective that I'd made everything up. So I did, because I had 4 siblings and I was made to feel guilty for "sending him to jail". Everything was swept under the rug and forgotten. Never acknowledged.

I was in my early 20's when I started having really bad flashbacks, which started my anxiety. I talked to a therapist for a while, until she moved away. I was doing ok for a while.

Fast forward to November 2, 2013. I used to work at a gentlemen's club as an office manager. Counting money and all that. Graveyard shift, 6p to 6a. One night, I had just put everything in to the safe. My best friend and I, 2 security guards and my manager were BSing at the end of a long shift. Suddenly, a man walks in, pointing a gun, with a mask on where only his eyes were visible. "Everyone on the MFing floor!" I stared, not being able to process the severity of the situation. I thought someone was playing an awful trick.

He said it again and this time I knew that this was really happening. For the longest 30 minutes of my life he proceeded to point the gun at us and drag us around demanding we open the safe. He asked me, with the gun to my head, if I really wanted to die for that money. I didn't know the combination, my job was to close it, not open it.

He hit my manager a few times in her face, one of the guards was pistol whipped...I thought I was going to die. I had just met my niece, she'd never remember me, she was too young. My husband, I had just married 2 months prior would be devastated. My mother...my poor mother. Would I go to heaven? What happens after he kills me?

I had just gotten over depression, anxiety, still had flashbacks from my childhood but I was better...then this. It's been 2 years and I thought I was ok.

For the past few weeks, I don't get hungry. I don't think I want to be married. I'd rather be alone. Everything is falling apart inside and I don't know what to do.

Ever since the robbery, I feel that nothing matters. I didn't think of all the things I didn't accomplish when I had that gun to my head. Those things don't matter when you die.

This is me in a nutshell...I've had my innocence ripped from me....twice. In one lifetime.
 
Hello, welcome.

I'm sorry you 'have to' be here, but glad you found us. Glad you're alive, certainly.

Innocence... I relate, in a way. In another one? It's something they don't get to take.

It's yours. Maybe lost for a time. But it's sure damned not theirs.
 
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