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Told My Mother

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I told my mom about the sexual assault in a note yesterday. I told her it was a boy of the same age and two people whom it was not (my closest friends at the time). I also said I didn't blame anyone in the family.

About three weeks ago I told her that my shrink (I'm not using this term in derogatory manner; he's terrific) thought I had PTSD; I needed to let her know why I was so angry. I told her it wasn't anyone in our family and not ask me more about it. She complied.

I slept the entire day before. I started running on the treadmill at about 5 AM and finished about two hours later. I just started running again. After showering I sat on the edge of the tub thinking about whether or not to tell her, for what felt like a long time.

I told her I was ready to tell her the cause of my PTSD and through my tears I said she needed to be stoic when she read the note. I went into her bathroom and waited. Shortly after she read the note I threw up (eventually it was everything I had eaten) from a combination of the extreme anxiety and overexertion. We laid on the bed talking a little bit about what happened and how I felt but mostly about things only tangentially related. I'm comfortable about talking about my sex life, so I told her the entirety of it, as well as how difficult it is to feel close to people now. I told her the boy and I were experimenting non-physically and that he threatened that he would tell people, if I didn't do what he wanted. I said I wish I knew that there was no way he would have said anything. I told her I sometimes flashback to those involuntarily physical pleasures and the extreme emotional distress.
 
Hi 15YOS

You are a brave, mature and strong person. Well done for disclosing this to your mum. You must feel that the burden has been lifted a bit.

best wishes
Saffy :)
 
I'm not sure what language is allowed so I'll just say, my note said "Here's the name of the POS sociopath." I also reminded her that everything I tell her has to be on my terms. Only threw up a little this time. It was who she thought it was. He was definitely the most screwed up friend I've had.
 
For the first time, I said the sack-of-shit's name aloud the other day in therapy (my mom was there too). It just came out of me without even thinking about it. I soon realized what I had done; and I felt much stronger.
This evening, I asked if she had guessed what the cause of my PTSD probably was. She said yes because there didn't seem to be any other possible cause. but she suppressed the though, because she didn't want it to be true. I'm now even gladder I told her within about tw
 
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