I came across this site looking for support. I rarely talk about what happened to me in great detai

I came across this site looking for support. I rarely talk about what happened to me in great detail. I have told people before that I was raped or abused but I hardly ever tell how it happened. I started therapy recently and for the first time managed to actually speak to someone face to face about my experience and not feel terrified of what they would think of me. I am in my mid twenties right now but the abuse I suffered was as a child. I was nine years old and living with my mother. My father had died a few years before and my mother pretty much hated me. She worked various part time jobs but always managed to get fired from them. She drank and did drugs and had a habit of dragging strange men home all the time. A different guy every night, some would come back and some I never saw again. I don't really know if she had gotten money from any of them but I do know that she got her drugs and booze off many of them. One guy that she brought home though stayed for quite a while. I will call him Sid. Sid liked both men and women and it wasn't unusual for him to bring another guy or girl to the house with him. After a short time Sid ended up moving into our trailer. He was unemployed, a lush and physically abusive to both my mother and myself. It was not odd to see my mothers face bruised and bloody. She lost many teeth from the times that Sid had punched her in the face. He used to beat her in the head till she would pass out, he broke her nose once and once I came home from school to find my mothers arm in a cast. I asked her what had happened and she said Sid. Thats all she had to say. It ended up that Sid would watch me while my mother was at work. Most of the time he would sit on the couch and get drunk, other times he would get pissed for no reason and he would start to hit me, sometimes with his hands, sometimes with an object. The wooden yard stick that my mother kept behind the stove was his favorite. We had a gas stove too and he loved to threaten me by trying to force my hands over the fire till I would scream, then he would let go of me and I would run away. He lived at our house for about two months before the first time that he actually abused me sexually. I walked into the living room and he spotted me. He asked me what I was doing and I told him that I had to use the toilet so he told me to go on to the bathroom. When I was done he called me into the living room and told me to sit on the couch. I told him that I was tired and wanted to go to bed so he waved me off but I remember him watching me as I walked out of the room. I next remember hearing him walk into my bedroom. I turned to ask what he wanted but he grabbed me suddenly and forced me face first onto the bed, pinning my arms behind my back. I screamed because I thought he was going to break my arms. I was scared and I remembered thinking that a beating was coming. I remember thinking, what did I do now? I was good, why is he doing this? But I wasn't prepared for what he did next. I wanted to scream but I couldn't. The next thing that I remember is feeling him pushing against me. I screamed then because of the pain. After a while I passed out, he did what he wanted to me and when he was done he went back in the living room and popped open a beer. I woke up on the floor later, crying, my face stained with tears and a horrible pain in my back side. I went to the bath room and washed the blood and his mess off me and when I came back out he told me, without even looking at me, that if I told anyone that he would kill me and my mother both. I ran back to my room and cried myself to sleep. The next night he came again, and the night after that. It became a regular thing, I was too scared to tell anyone but one fateful night mother happened to come home early and caught him. She called the police and he was arrested but to this day she told me that it was my fault that it happened because I knew he liked men too and that I acted to sexy around him. A nine year old and I was too sexy? I don't see my mother now, and I am not sure if I can forgive her. I just wish she could have held me and told me that she was sorry.
by noonessonon 3 Nov 2005

Labels: I came across this site looking for support. I rarely talk about what happened to me in great detai

posted by Robert Heard at 7:12 AM