My Story of Sexual Abuse

I was born into a family of my mother, 17 and my father 20. Growing up I lived in the lower class. Most days my parents struggled to put food on the table. We shared a small two bedroom apartment that would quickly turn into my very own hell. My father had bipolar and other mental illnesses. He often turned to drugs to cope with his symptoms and his past experiences with abuse. I associated the smell of weed and oil with the smell of my father. I remember his violent fits he would throw on bad days. Running to my room to hide. I remember him putting hands on my mother and threatening to knock her head off her shoulders. I didn't know it could possibly get worse then that. At the age of 8 was the first time my father molested me. At that age I had no idea what was happening. All I knew is I did not like it. When I would get upset he would yell and I would become so fearful of him. I obliged to anything he wanted. Growing up I began to disassociate from the situation. I would close my eyes and pretend I was somewhere else until it was over. Eventually he started giving me things in return. Almost like bribing me but really I didn't have a choice. It would happen a few times a week when my mother was not home. I was not allowed to say anything because if I did I would get hurt even worse. My trust was completely shattered and so was my heart. I remember saying to him "Daddy can't we just go to the park and you can push me on the swing" through tears but he said after and would yell and scream if I refused eventually leading to worse. At the age of 12 I began self mutilating and contemplating suicide. What other choice did I have? Who could I tell? Who would believe me? What would he do to me if he found out I told? I was worthless compared to him. Just another mouth to feed. He supported my family, was a father to other children. I felt like nothing. I thought suicide was the only answer. At age 13 I attempted suicide. I was unsuccessful and terrified of my actions. It wasn't long after an adult noticed my odd behaviour, my cutting. I finally opened up and things moved very fast from there. Everything is a blur. Talking to the police, the trial, the decisions, the heart ache of my family, especially my mother. My grandmother( his mother) torturing me and guilting me because she didn't believe me. Luckily my other family members were there to help and support me. Today I still find myself disassociating from my past as much as I can, I push the thoughts away, when the dreams come it is like I'm watching this happen to a little girl who is me but I don't feel anything. I am numb to it. I wake up and I don't think about it. I push it away. I don't talk about it but sometimes I think I need to. This post is my first step to getting help. I am slowly breaking the ice one step at a time. Next is to talk with a therapist.