This Friday is the one year anniversary of my most recent abuse. It is effecting me not only because it is the most recent abuse, but because it also affirmed some of my deepest fears and struggles that I was already struggling with.
I just want to share my story. I am grieving, I am also angry. It is so exhausting to navigate a normal life like a normal person like any of this day to day shit is consequential. Ultimately I have found emptiness outside of trauma, because I am often incapable of being present in the moment. And when i am present I am always feeling fear towards whatever I am positively experiencing. This degrades my ability to enjoy life. I feel much more comfortable in high risk or threatening situations. I know who I am and I understand the only goal is to survive. Any existence beyond that feels too messy. I am constantly hyper-vigilant. Everything is a possible threat and all of my energy is wasted on trying to minimize threat. It is hard to not believe that everything is dark if you look close enough, even myself.
I will try to keep this short as my impulse to share will not be gratified as no one likes a wall block of text.
My dad was abusive to my mother, she knew as soon as she was pregnant that she would be a single mom. They divorced shortly after I was born. She experienced a lot of abuse from her own father, and had consequently married someone much like her dad. My mother never reconciled with her past and this has caused her pain and problems up until current day, as has it caused me much struggle. My dad stopped calling when I was 6 years old, about a year after the last time i had seen him when he came home from Iraq wounded. I hadn't seen much of him anyways, it wasnt a huge change.
My mom has always been unavailable, volatile, and in constant conflict with her own pain. She was over protective in many ways, military even. There was no room for communication or questioning. She was so scared of messing up, yet she never could acknowledge when she was making mistakes.
When I was 6 my cousin molested me particularly graphically when he was babysitting. I have memories as early as 2 or 3 years old of this happening. I told my family. It tore them apart. I was not blamed but when my family struggled and my mom distanced herself even more into her depression it felt like i had done something wrong.
There were so many morning where she wouldnt get out of bed and i would be late for school, we would somehow get in an argument and all of a sudden "We are late because you're being a selfish brat". I never was able to voice how I knew this wasn't true. The gaslighting and blaming and screaming and hitting and grounding it never stopped. It was always my fault. It was always because of something inherently wrong with me. This went on for most of my elementary and middle school life.
My mom had met my stepdad early on, he was in my life for most of my childhood. He's an amazing man but was stuck between a narcissistic mother and a daughter that isn't technically his own. I stayed living with him when he and my mother broke up.
Once I was a preteen I had a lot of issues. I had no respect for authority and started running away, cutting, having sex, and smoking weed around 12 years old. I never had real guidance so I was left to my own broken devices. I asked to see a therapist around this time, i was mostly taught how to mitigate confrontation at home and was diagnosed with PTSD for the first time.
I dropped out of highschool with my mom's permission at 14. I started having adverse effects from weed. I would have these panic attacks/flashbacks where i was utterly convinced I had been damned for being bad and I was forever stuck in hell. The things I saw during these episodes were awful. I would be convinced that everyone else was more "aware" than I was, and they were all torturing me. The worst part was that I knew once i wasn't high I wouldn't be able to perceive my hell, and that was apart of the torture too. To sometimes feel ok just to have it taken away when i realize the truth. I couldn't fully comprehend what was happening. I was suicidal and deathly scared of what was in my brain, but couldn't vocalize it because i couldn't comprehend it yet. There was too much of compartmentalization.
I lied to my parents who had recently gotten back together and said I was addicted to opiods because i had a cousin who was and needed attention and help. This led to a year of institutionalization in and out of 3 different rehabs and childhomes. I was completely powerless to people who didn't know my real story and many of whom didnt care. Youth institutions seem like money pits, but i digress..
Once I was out I started attending narcotics anonymous. The culture of NA is similar to a cult in my opinion. There are a lot of sick people telling other sick people that they have all of the answers and if you do it correctly you will lead a good life. This lead to me being groomed and raped by a 41 year old man and his girlfriend when i was 15. That man acted like my friend and mentor. He would hit on me sometimes but i thought that was what men did. Until he came on to me one night and i just laid there. I didnt say no but i didnt want it. When he was done he f*cked his girlfriend next to me. I eventually tried to press charges a month later when i couldn't act like it didn't happen anymore. I was harrassed by people in NA because they thought i was lying for attention, as thats what the man who raped me said. He also gave me herpes.
I started therapy again after this.
Abuse at home was still happening. I would be kicked out every now and then, often with nowhere to go. I would eventually become a stripper and moved out 3 months after my 18th birthday because it was clear I would continue being abused at home until I was kicked out for good.
This is where my anniversary happens. My cousin, who is 14 years older, and i have a long history. He was actually the first person to get me high when i was 12. He was a man who took action, aggressively, but being young and naive I looked up to him. He was this big strong dude who took care of business. He was fun and confident and showed me a lot of cool stuff. We shared everything and were support systems for each other. Awhile before i turned 18 I stopped talking to him because of his cocaine addiction and the consequential behaviors. But last year on the 17th he called me up and told me he wasn't doing blow anymore and can we get lunch. We did, and we ended up going to his friends and doing a lot of drugs, because evidently he wasn't clean. I rarely did substance at this point, but it was my cousin and why not? So I matched what they were doing, xanax, Vicodin, cocaine, beer. The friend and I were flirting all night, thats no problem. But towards 4 am my cousin wanted to go home. We all suggested that he doesnt drive and we all spend the night. My cousin is adamant on leaving and taking me home. I keep arguing that we should crash on the couches, he submits and leaves, and shortly later comes back and tells me we are leaving. So we do. He doesnt take me home, he takes me to his apartment. Whatever, thats not a huge problem. He then asks me to do a line of cocaine off of me. I remember saying "That's not ok why would you ask me to do that?" And he responds with "I like doing coke off of hot bodies". He goes to the bathroom. I texted my friend "my cousin is trying to f*ck me wtf" but it was barely literate because i was so high. I dont know how my cousin started raping me, I don't remember. I remember parts of it happening though. In the morning I woke up and looked at my cousin and said "what did you do?" And he answered in such a small childish voice "I dont know.. don't tell anyone though".
This last rape effected me so badly. I had finally made the choice to move out and to live on my own and go back to school. I had been for years making the best choices in my capacity to be healthier and happier. I had just become a legal adult. And i completely failed at keeping myself safe and away from trauma. I was so convinced I was going to kill myself after that. It was so obvious that my life was going to be a never ending cycle of abuse no matter how hard I tried to avoid it. I had no idea my cousin was sexually attracted to me. I had no idea. It feels like my fault. It completely solidified in my mind these hauntings that I would never be safe and was incapable of protecting myself.
Alot of the pain and emptiness from last year is cropping up this week along with the nightmares.
I just needed to share, i dont know why. Thank you.
I just want to share my story. I am grieving, I am also angry. It is so exhausting to navigate a normal life like a normal person like any of this day to day shit is consequential. Ultimately I have found emptiness outside of trauma, because I am often incapable of being present in the moment. And when i am present I am always feeling fear towards whatever I am positively experiencing. This degrades my ability to enjoy life. I feel much more comfortable in high risk or threatening situations. I know who I am and I understand the only goal is to survive. Any existence beyond that feels too messy. I am constantly hyper-vigilant. Everything is a possible threat and all of my energy is wasted on trying to minimize threat. It is hard to not believe that everything is dark if you look close enough, even myself.
I will try to keep this short as my impulse to share will not be gratified as no one likes a wall block of text.
My dad was abusive to my mother, she knew as soon as she was pregnant that she would be a single mom. They divorced shortly after I was born. She experienced a lot of abuse from her own father, and had consequently married someone much like her dad. My mother never reconciled with her past and this has caused her pain and problems up until current day, as has it caused me much struggle. My dad stopped calling when I was 6 years old, about a year after the last time i had seen him when he came home from Iraq wounded. I hadn't seen much of him anyways, it wasnt a huge change.
My mom has always been unavailable, volatile, and in constant conflict with her own pain. She was over protective in many ways, military even. There was no room for communication or questioning. She was so scared of messing up, yet she never could acknowledge when she was making mistakes.
When I was 6 my cousin molested me particularly graphically when he was babysitting. I have memories as early as 2 or 3 years old of this happening. I told my family. It tore them apart. I was not blamed but when my family struggled and my mom distanced herself even more into her depression it felt like i had done something wrong.
There were so many morning where she wouldnt get out of bed and i would be late for school, we would somehow get in an argument and all of a sudden "We are late because you're being a selfish brat". I never was able to voice how I knew this wasn't true. The gaslighting and blaming and screaming and hitting and grounding it never stopped. It was always my fault. It was always because of something inherently wrong with me. This went on for most of my elementary and middle school life.
My mom had met my stepdad early on, he was in my life for most of my childhood. He's an amazing man but was stuck between a narcissistic mother and a daughter that isn't technically his own. I stayed living with him when he and my mother broke up.
Once I was a preteen I had a lot of issues. I had no respect for authority and started running away, cutting, having sex, and smoking weed around 12 years old. I never had real guidance so I was left to my own broken devices. I asked to see a therapist around this time, i was mostly taught how to mitigate confrontation at home and was diagnosed with PTSD for the first time.
I dropped out of highschool with my mom's permission at 14. I started having adverse effects from weed. I would have these panic attacks/flashbacks where i was utterly convinced I had been damned for being bad and I was forever stuck in hell. The things I saw during these episodes were awful. I would be convinced that everyone else was more "aware" than I was, and they were all torturing me. The worst part was that I knew once i wasn't high I wouldn't be able to perceive my hell, and that was apart of the torture too. To sometimes feel ok just to have it taken away when i realize the truth. I couldn't fully comprehend what was happening. I was suicidal and deathly scared of what was in my brain, but couldn't vocalize it because i couldn't comprehend it yet. There was too much of compartmentalization.
I lied to my parents who had recently gotten back together and said I was addicted to opiods because i had a cousin who was and needed attention and help. This led to a year of institutionalization in and out of 3 different rehabs and childhomes. I was completely powerless to people who didn't know my real story and many of whom didnt care. Youth institutions seem like money pits, but i digress..
Once I was out I started attending narcotics anonymous. The culture of NA is similar to a cult in my opinion. There are a lot of sick people telling other sick people that they have all of the answers and if you do it correctly you will lead a good life. This lead to me being groomed and raped by a 41 year old man and his girlfriend when i was 15. That man acted like my friend and mentor. He would hit on me sometimes but i thought that was what men did. Until he came on to me one night and i just laid there. I didnt say no but i didnt want it. When he was done he f*cked his girlfriend next to me. I eventually tried to press charges a month later when i couldn't act like it didn't happen anymore. I was harrassed by people in NA because they thought i was lying for attention, as thats what the man who raped me said. He also gave me herpes.
I started therapy again after this.
Abuse at home was still happening. I would be kicked out every now and then, often with nowhere to go. I would eventually become a stripper and moved out 3 months after my 18th birthday because it was clear I would continue being abused at home until I was kicked out for good.
This is where my anniversary happens. My cousin, who is 14 years older, and i have a long history. He was actually the first person to get me high when i was 12. He was a man who took action, aggressively, but being young and naive I looked up to him. He was this big strong dude who took care of business. He was fun and confident and showed me a lot of cool stuff. We shared everything and were support systems for each other. Awhile before i turned 18 I stopped talking to him because of his cocaine addiction and the consequential behaviors. But last year on the 17th he called me up and told me he wasn't doing blow anymore and can we get lunch. We did, and we ended up going to his friends and doing a lot of drugs, because evidently he wasn't clean. I rarely did substance at this point, but it was my cousin and why not? So I matched what they were doing, xanax, Vicodin, cocaine, beer. The friend and I were flirting all night, thats no problem. But towards 4 am my cousin wanted to go home. We all suggested that he doesnt drive and we all spend the night. My cousin is adamant on leaving and taking me home. I keep arguing that we should crash on the couches, he submits and leaves, and shortly later comes back and tells me we are leaving. So we do. He doesnt take me home, he takes me to his apartment. Whatever, thats not a huge problem. He then asks me to do a line of cocaine off of me. I remember saying "That's not ok why would you ask me to do that?" And he responds with "I like doing coke off of hot bodies". He goes to the bathroom. I texted my friend "my cousin is trying to f*ck me wtf" but it was barely literate because i was so high. I dont know how my cousin started raping me, I don't remember. I remember parts of it happening though. In the morning I woke up and looked at my cousin and said "what did you do?" And he answered in such a small childish voice "I dont know.. don't tell anyone though".
This last rape effected me so badly. I had finally made the choice to move out and to live on my own and go back to school. I had been for years making the best choices in my capacity to be healthier and happier. I had just become a legal adult. And i completely failed at keeping myself safe and away from trauma. I was so convinced I was going to kill myself after that. It was so obvious that my life was going to be a never ending cycle of abuse no matter how hard I tried to avoid it. I had no idea my cousin was sexually attracted to me. I had no idea. It feels like my fault. It completely solidified in my mind these hauntings that I would never be safe and was incapable of protecting myself.
Alot of the pain and emptiness from last year is cropping up this week along with the nightmares.
I just needed to share, i dont know why. Thank you.