Fireball95 Member Profile

...See more I am an almost 26-year-old gay man. A part of the reason I haven’t shared this with anyone other than my boyfriend of 7 years is for the fear of people assuming I’m gay because my brother who is four years older sexually abused me from the ages of 10-14. I’ve been gay for as long as I can remember. Way before the abuse started. My head is currently spinning like it does sometimes because I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened over those years. I have never seen a therapist except for when my other older brother died when I was 10 going on 11. I didn’t talk about any of the sexual abuse because at the time, I didn’t know I was being abused. I was manipulated by him. When I was in kindergarten, social services removed us from my mother’s care and placed us back with her one year after she proved she could keep a home that wasn’t a motel. That was the first time we lived in a motel. We only had that house for a year or two. So, after that happened, we were back in a motel and I grew this fear that I would be taken away from her again. My brother played into that when I was 9-10. I can’t remember exactly which year it started, but I was definitely either 9 or 10. While we were living in the motel, idk how it started, but one day he wanted to hump me with my underwear on and I would always say no. It would make me anxious every day when he’d ask about it. I dreaded it. Then one day, he said if I didn’t do it after we got back from dads house on the weekend, he would tell social services and we’d get taken away again. I know it’s stupid that I fell for that, but I did. I feel like such an idiot. So, I let him put his bare crotch on my butt with my whity tighties on. It felt so weird and I hated it. We would often have to shower and after I let him do that, it opened the box. In the shower, he’d corner me and threaten to punch me if I didn’t let him put his dick in my mouth. After that would happen, he’d say that if I told we’d get taken away if I told. A little different than the first time. He had bad anger issues as a child and he was overly aggressive towards me. We lived in that motel for 3 years. After my brother died, we were approved for section 8 and got a house. He had the upstairs bedroom. My mom is 390 lbs. she has bad knees and can barely walk up steps, so she never went up there. When we were at that house, he showed me how to jack off and told me some day white stuff would come out. He’d have me rub lotion on his dick. By this point, I thought this was normal. He’d tell me that brothers do this and it’s natural. I’m so pissed at myself for that. This is where it gets odd, he’d want me to penetrate him. The one bit of power I had was that I wouldn’t let him penetrate me. I didn’t know wtf I was doing. I couldn’t even have a proper orgasm because I was so young. I feel sick saying that. Why the hell would I fuck him after all that shit. Is that even abuse? He even tried to get my one year younger than me friend to partake in his sexual shit when I was 12. We’re not friends anymore. Sometime during 7th grade before I turned 14 or a little after, he slowly stopped doing those things with me. He has a wife now. She can’t have children thank fuck. Idk if he’s a pedophile. He was at an age to know better I think. He’s a vile person. He grew into a piece of human trash and I’ve just recently cut all contact with him but it’s hard because I still have to see him around the holidays. He has a crap ton of weapons, will shoot squirrels and rabbits in the back yard. He’s a destructive person and has severe anger issues. He’s told my mother to “die bitch” and he’s pushed her down. He threw my French horn out the window of a moving car on a freeway. He’s choked me, beat me, has sat on me for extended periods of time and wouldn’t let me up. I now feel trapped when people touch me or put any weight on me. Hugs are a hard thing for me too. I’m sharing this because these thoughts constantly flood my mind and I don’t have money for therapy and I’m at my wits end on what to do. I’m sure I have some sort of ptsd , but I don’t wanna self diagnose myself. Sorry if this was scattered or not grammatically correct. I was writing down my thoughts as they came to me. This actually felt like some sort of therapy writing this.

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