Well, I want to start off by saying, I really understand this is nothing like what a lot of people have gone through in their life, I promise. I just want to tell someone exactly what happened when I was a kid, without ever having to see them face to face.
This story has been a major source of guilt and shame for me my entire life. Maybe it feels more like a confession than a story, but here goes.
I grew up in a very abusive home. I have 4 brothers and 3 sisters. My parents were especially 'religious', of their own kind mainly. We didn't really have friends growing up, as my seemed to feel everyone would be a bad influence on us save them. As I grew older I began to realise this was due to my father not wanting anyone to find out what was going on at home. This was also probably part of why he would move at least once every 6 months.
But this is not about the physical and mental abuse, this is about...other abuse. The details are sketchy, possibly because I have tried my absolute hardest to blank this out over the years.
The first I can remember was when we were on holidays, and I couldn't have been more than 5 years old, surely. My older sister and I had been put down for our naps, and mum had taken my overalls (like jeans with straps over your shoulders) downstairs to wash. My sister suggested we start playing a game called 'doctors and nurses'. I was to wait on the couch outside the room until she called me in. When she called me in, it was all about this fun game involving err...examinations... and touching. At one stage....this is really hard to tell this story!!....at one stage she would put me up on her feet and dig her toes in err...places...
My whole childhood I can remember being extremely 'experimental', and always facinated with what I didn't understand about sex. The things I used to do to myself when I was so young really shame me now.
This game happened on and off until I was perhaps no older than 8 or 9. I remember where I was when I was 9, and I don't believe that it was happening at this stage, it felt like a lot longer before then.
In the mean time, sometime before I was 9, I started similar games with my younger sister. I can remember once playing a similar game even with a younger brother. I might have been 7 at this stage...we had been locked in the bedroom together for hours for some reason.
This all pretty much stopped around the time I turned 9. I am extremely ashamed of this, and I don't know why I did it. I hope people do not think I am some kind of sick person, I really want to believe this was simply because I was so young I didn't know what was right or wrong!! We were rarely supervised as kids. If we weren't getting beaten and yelled at, we were pretty much 100% ignored. We mainly run our own show, cooked our own food...we never were allowed to go to school.
There seemed to be a very sick sexual 'cloud' over the family. My parents were constantly in the bedroom getting up to stuff. I mean constantly, all I can remember during my childhood was my father constantly saying to mum 'come to bed Jean, comeonnn'...and so she would. And they would spend hours in there, much to us kids curiousity. I remember the look on my dads face when he would be bugging mum for sex, I remember this very distinctly, and I remember him having that look when he busted my sister and I playing one of those 'games'. Weirdly, we didnt' even get into trouble about this that I can recall.
I remember a conversation with my sister, explaining to me what male genitalia looks like in detail, when she would have been maybe 10 or 11. She said she found out by looking in mum and dads caravan window one day. (Us kids lived in the house at this particular place, and they lived in a caravan out the back).
There was another thing. My dad used to insist we slept in his room with him and mum. I always tried to get out of it, because I hated it, but he would seriously make us. Every single time I would wake up at 5 am on the dot, hearing them talking, were we asleep? Then it would be on. It was so embarrasing and shameful to me that I would hold the doona over my ears and try and block out the sound and pretend I was asleep.
One day I couldn't take it any more and he was trying to get me to stay in the room, and I said no, no, I'm not going to! He started getting weird, saying why wouldn't you want to, and I ended up outright telling him because you and mum do stuff in the morning and I hate it. He wasn't embarrassed, he was busted. The look on his face was somewhat like he was turned on, and somewhat like he'd been busted. I believe he must have tried to get us to sleep in the same room on purpose, some kind of sick fantasy of his.
I didn't know the things I know now being an adult, but the more I realise how sick things were, the worse I feel about it. I always remember looks on his face, and now I often notice the same look a boyfriend might get when he's getting ...keen...is very similar to what I saw on dads face at certain times around us kids.
One particular time, was when my younger sister told me she had put her younger brothers penis inside her. She was extremely embarrassed and made me promise not to tell anyone, but I was scared she would do this again, and ended up telling my parents. I would have been 13 at this time, she would have been 9 or 10. The next day, dad dragged the poor girl down near the dam on our property with the brother in question, and mum, and proceeded to ask her thousands of the most embarrassing questions. She was absolutely, 1000% mortified, but I definately remember the look on his face, he was getting off on the whole thing. The poor girl was severely traumatised.
Now as an adult, I look back on all that, and I wonder if there is a way to get rid of feeling so guilty and shameful about it. It was all so wrong, but we were all young! We didn't have anyone to learn off except our parents, and I'm near convinced my horrible father did things to my sisters, otherwise where did she learn her little doctors and nurses game? I know for a fact that my two older sisters did things to each other too when they were young.
It's like a cycle that went through the family, it would happen when someone was very young, then they would pass it on to the next sibling, but then figure out it was wrong and stop, but then the next sibling would pass it on. I feel so guilty because I am sure if I hadn't 'passed' it on to my dear little sister, she would never have had to go through that with her brother...it could have stopped with me. But I was so young!
I remember once when I was so young, my mother crying next to my bed saying she was so so sorry she let that happen to me. It was apparently something terrible, but I don't remember it.
It's weird because my older sisters don't seem to remember any of the things I remember when it comes to stuff that happened between us. She says she has no idea what I'm talking about, it's like she's completely blanked it.
It was a horrible family, the best way to describe it is growing up in a one family cult. Everything began and stopped with my father. There was no one else involved in the family for any length of time. We didn't have grandparents, uncles, aunties, cousins, mum and dad completely estranged themselves from everyone in the family, and would only have friends for very short periods of time. As soon as we got a little close to a new friend, dad would either move, or write them a letter saying we could no longer associate with them due to religious reasons.
Well, there is more after this as an adult, but I wanted to write this part first and get it out finally. I hope people don't judge me, I know its not going to be anything like what most victims of child sexual abuse have gone through, but to me it's extremely shameful.
This story has been a major source of guilt and shame for me my entire life. Maybe it feels more like a confession than a story, but here goes.
I grew up in a very abusive home. I have 4 brothers and 3 sisters. My parents were especially 'religious', of their own kind mainly. We didn't really have friends growing up, as my seemed to feel everyone would be a bad influence on us save them. As I grew older I began to realise this was due to my father not wanting anyone to find out what was going on at home. This was also probably part of why he would move at least once every 6 months.
But this is not about the physical and mental abuse, this is about...other abuse. The details are sketchy, possibly because I have tried my absolute hardest to blank this out over the years.
The first I can remember was when we were on holidays, and I couldn't have been more than 5 years old, surely. My older sister and I had been put down for our naps, and mum had taken my overalls (like jeans with straps over your shoulders) downstairs to wash. My sister suggested we start playing a game called 'doctors and nurses'. I was to wait on the couch outside the room until she called me in. When she called me in, it was all about this fun game involving err...examinations... and touching. At one stage....this is really hard to tell this story!!....at one stage she would put me up on her feet and dig her toes in err...places...
My whole childhood I can remember being extremely 'experimental', and always facinated with what I didn't understand about sex. The things I used to do to myself when I was so young really shame me now.
This game happened on and off until I was perhaps no older than 8 or 9. I remember where I was when I was 9, and I don't believe that it was happening at this stage, it felt like a lot longer before then.
In the mean time, sometime before I was 9, I started similar games with my younger sister. I can remember once playing a similar game even with a younger brother. I might have been 7 at this stage...we had been locked in the bedroom together for hours for some reason.
This all pretty much stopped around the time I turned 9. I am extremely ashamed of this, and I don't know why I did it. I hope people do not think I am some kind of sick person, I really want to believe this was simply because I was so young I didn't know what was right or wrong!! We were rarely supervised as kids. If we weren't getting beaten and yelled at, we were pretty much 100% ignored. We mainly run our own show, cooked our own food...we never were allowed to go to school.
There seemed to be a very sick sexual 'cloud' over the family. My parents were constantly in the bedroom getting up to stuff. I mean constantly, all I can remember during my childhood was my father constantly saying to mum 'come to bed Jean, comeonnn'...and so she would. And they would spend hours in there, much to us kids curiousity. I remember the look on my dads face when he would be bugging mum for sex, I remember this very distinctly, and I remember him having that look when he busted my sister and I playing one of those 'games'. Weirdly, we didnt' even get into trouble about this that I can recall.
I remember a conversation with my sister, explaining to me what male genitalia looks like in detail, when she would have been maybe 10 or 11. She said she found out by looking in mum and dads caravan window one day. (Us kids lived in the house at this particular place, and they lived in a caravan out the back).
There was another thing. My dad used to insist we slept in his room with him and mum. I always tried to get out of it, because I hated it, but he would seriously make us. Every single time I would wake up at 5 am on the dot, hearing them talking, were we asleep? Then it would be on. It was so embarrasing and shameful to me that I would hold the doona over my ears and try and block out the sound and pretend I was asleep.
One day I couldn't take it any more and he was trying to get me to stay in the room, and I said no, no, I'm not going to! He started getting weird, saying why wouldn't you want to, and I ended up outright telling him because you and mum do stuff in the morning and I hate it. He wasn't embarrassed, he was busted. The look on his face was somewhat like he was turned on, and somewhat like he'd been busted. I believe he must have tried to get us to sleep in the same room on purpose, some kind of sick fantasy of his.
I didn't know the things I know now being an adult, but the more I realise how sick things were, the worse I feel about it. I always remember looks on his face, and now I often notice the same look a boyfriend might get when he's getting ...keen...is very similar to what I saw on dads face at certain times around us kids.
One particular time, was when my younger sister told me she had put her younger brothers penis inside her. She was extremely embarrassed and made me promise not to tell anyone, but I was scared she would do this again, and ended up telling my parents. I would have been 13 at this time, she would have been 9 or 10. The next day, dad dragged the poor girl down near the dam on our property with the brother in question, and mum, and proceeded to ask her thousands of the most embarrassing questions. She was absolutely, 1000% mortified, but I definately remember the look on his face, he was getting off on the whole thing. The poor girl was severely traumatised.
Now as an adult, I look back on all that, and I wonder if there is a way to get rid of feeling so guilty and shameful about it. It was all so wrong, but we were all young! We didn't have anyone to learn off except our parents, and I'm near convinced my horrible father did things to my sisters, otherwise where did she learn her little doctors and nurses game? I know for a fact that my two older sisters did things to each other too when they were young.
It's like a cycle that went through the family, it would happen when someone was very young, then they would pass it on to the next sibling, but then figure out it was wrong and stop, but then the next sibling would pass it on. I feel so guilty because I am sure if I hadn't 'passed' it on to my dear little sister, she would never have had to go through that with her brother...it could have stopped with me. But I was so young!
I remember once when I was so young, my mother crying next to my bed saying she was so so sorry she let that happen to me. It was apparently something terrible, but I don't remember it.
It's weird because my older sisters don't seem to remember any of the things I remember when it comes to stuff that happened between us. She says she has no idea what I'm talking about, it's like she's completely blanked it.
It was a horrible family, the best way to describe it is growing up in a one family cult. Everything began and stopped with my father. There was no one else involved in the family for any length of time. We didn't have grandparents, uncles, aunties, cousins, mum and dad completely estranged themselves from everyone in the family, and would only have friends for very short periods of time. As soon as we got a little close to a new friend, dad would either move, or write them a letter saying we could no longer associate with them due to religious reasons.
Well, there is more after this as an adult, but I wanted to write this part first and get it out finally. I hope people don't judge me, I know its not going to be anything like what most victims of child sexual abuse have gone through, but to me it's extremely shameful.
