Christopher
New Here
I met my trauma the first time I "broke the rules" and wandered too far from home when I was 6 years old. I rode my bike down a hill and then entered the woods on a path that I had only seen from the backseat of my parents passing car.
I soon came across a group of 4 or 5 young adults who were partying in the woods. There was alcohol and I wouldn't know what else. They were standing near an old car that had a fire roaring in its engine compartment. My memory of the event is somewhat limited, due to the shocking nature of what transpired and also because of the time that has since passed.
I believe that it was only one of the people who targeted me. My only memory is of being face down in the mud. I lay there looking at the ground from a few inches away. I began to separate from my body. I heard a super high-pitched sound. It was from my own mouth, though I felt separate from that, too. My trauma was another persons folly. I was raped with a piece of a tree branch. I am still physically scarred from that. I was urinated on. It felt hot. Sometimes even now, when someone is disrespecting me, I can still smell the urine and my shirt feels soaking wet. The guy who harmed me scared me most when he claimed that he was going to finish me off by throwing me into the roaring fire.
I hobbled home, pushing the bicycle that I couldn't ride because of my pain. My underwear was soiled and bloody. I hid the evidence of the assault for a week(I mean 4 decades). My parents never knew, though there was a time in my twenties when I had cut myself deeply(requiring 20+ stitches), and my Dad said something about how my whole personal presentation changed from joy to fear when I was a kid. He said he never knew why. I finally told him last year why that was.
My adulthood has been a stream of failures, depression, social withdrawl, suicide attempts, and incredible loneliness.
I have made huge strides in understanding who I am and why my train was derailed, in a sense. My most recent wave of difficulty comes to me because a person I care dearly for(also a rape survivor) is in a very destructive relationship with a narcissistic sociopath. It's like having to sit and watch your very favorite person play Russian Roulette.
Well, I'm exhausted now, so I'll sign off. Thanks you, dearest souls.
I soon came across a group of 4 or 5 young adults who were partying in the woods. There was alcohol and I wouldn't know what else. They were standing near an old car that had a fire roaring in its engine compartment. My memory of the event is somewhat limited, due to the shocking nature of what transpired and also because of the time that has since passed.
I believe that it was only one of the people who targeted me. My only memory is of being face down in the mud. I lay there looking at the ground from a few inches away. I began to separate from my body. I heard a super high-pitched sound. It was from my own mouth, though I felt separate from that, too. My trauma was another persons folly. I was raped with a piece of a tree branch. I am still physically scarred from that. I was urinated on. It felt hot. Sometimes even now, when someone is disrespecting me, I can still smell the urine and my shirt feels soaking wet. The guy who harmed me scared me most when he claimed that he was going to finish me off by throwing me into the roaring fire.
I hobbled home, pushing the bicycle that I couldn't ride because of my pain. My underwear was soiled and bloody. I hid the evidence of the assault for a week(I mean 4 decades). My parents never knew, though there was a time in my twenties when I had cut myself deeply(requiring 20+ stitches), and my Dad said something about how my whole personal presentation changed from joy to fear when I was a kid. He said he never knew why. I finally told him last year why that was.
My adulthood has been a stream of failures, depression, social withdrawl, suicide attempts, and incredible loneliness.
I have made huge strides in understanding who I am and why my train was derailed, in a sense. My most recent wave of difficulty comes to me because a person I care dearly for(also a rape survivor) is in a very destructive relationship with a narcissistic sociopath. It's like having to sit and watch your very favorite person play Russian Roulette.
Well, I'm exhausted now, so I'll sign off. Thanks you, dearest souls.
