The Situation and Circumstances
I was molested through out my childhood by my adoptive father, mainly from ages 10-14. The first memorable time was when I was four. He never fully raped me because he was an alcoholic, therefore he had an erectile dysfunction. But it was still tough on me. My mother refused to do anything but turn a blind eye.
Later on in life, I had several abusive boyfriends, some raped, some beat. It was normal for me though, that's what men did. Yes, at times I fought back, but no one helped me. No one cared. The last time was in March, by an ex-boyfriend. He beat me until I was still. I hate them. I hate all of them.
The Aftermath and Post-Rape Trauma
The pain never went away.At the age of eleven, I began self-mutilation and a few months later I took up drugs. I developed an eating disorder on top of that. So at the age of twelve, I weighed at my lowest 70 lbs. and was 5'5 in height. At probably 14 I began fooling around with other guys, then 15 I REALLY began sleeping around.Just to trying to erase what's happened. Like it's going to replace what's happened. I mean, I have no self-esteem anymore. I'm ashamed, and I feel so guilty and dirty.
I never knew or understood what was happening. I didn't even know they had a name for it. Nor did I know it happened to other girls. So when I figured it all out I became obsessed. Reading about other girls, the facts, definitions, cases, stories. I cried. It's terrifying and heart breaking. But at least you know you aren't all alone.
At the end of my freshman year I was raped multiple times by a senior and his friend.
I've been pregnant once from an ex-boyfriend after he raped me, but I still wanted to keep it. I had already lost one, and I thought it was some kind of second chance. I lost it at two months.
My adoptive father died just last summer. He was the only dad I knew. And I miss the part of him that was timid and loving.
After the last incident, I ran out of the house naked down the street towards a church screaming. A VERY good friend found me and got me help. I was unable to speak for three days due to screaming, I couldn't walk and I refused to eat. I begged my mom to take me to the hospital but she refused and said it was all my fault.
I've never told anyone EVERYTHING, but maybe two people. I was terrified every time.
I've had over 40 suicide attempts to go along with my scars. So I'm limited on my choice of clothing.
I have been diagnosed with PTSD, Schizo-affective bipolar type disorder, BPD, and now possibly DID.
I still have relapses with my bulimia and anorexia, and ulcers.
I have extensive nightmares, and panic attacks, along with occasional anal bleeding.
It hurts to talk about it, and I can't really take it. I still cry about it and I feel incredibly stupid because I could have done more, I know I could have done more.
I want to talk about it. But no one ever truly listened. I'm not all together too sure I know really how to love or trust anything. I feel cold towards other people often or I feel to much. I often feel like trash, used up, damaged goods. And I feel like a hypocrite when I try to give others hope and advice.
- DON'T GIVE UP!
- You are NOT trash!
- You are NOT damaged goods!
- You are NOT alone!
- It wasn't your fault.
- You are a beautiful person who still deserves love!
- Tell someone, I know it's hard, but you CAN get help!
- If they don't listen or nothing good comes out of it KEEP telling!
- Everything will be alright.
- Find an outlet.
- Yes, you will be angry!
- Yes, it's gonna hurt!
- Yes, you will cry!
- Even if you think what your going through is strange or different, it more than likely normal!
- You are still strong!
- What happened was wrong, and you NEVER deserve it!
- It's okay to cry and be angry.