I've never told anyone this but I feel the need to share my story.
Oh my God. I have a story. I feel like that is the most horrible statement to make. A story. About a child molester who is my brother.
We live in a small island town and shared a room for years until I was mid-teen. I can only remember bits and pieces of what happened but one thing is for sure - it happened.
I remember being very young, probably 8 or 9, and he'd get me into a corner and fondle me. Anytime we were alone. When Mom and Dad were in bed on a Saturday morning or playing cards on a Saturday night. I'd feel so guilty but on some sick level, I think I somehow wanted it. But I never told anyone and I don't know why. I had two older sisters and a Mom who I am close to but I never told them.
One of the last memories of the whole thing is being in our room and he tried to penetrate but couldn't. I told him no but then I was afraid he'd get mad and I told him he could try so he tried and he penetrated me. I remember feeling sick to my stomach.
Every night I'd sleep above him and he'd fondle me with his fingers or his penis. I'd be somewhere else in my head but I knew it wasn't right. I never told until...
The final straw was when I was outside with my friends and he expected me to come inside so I could play with him and show him my breasts. I finally had it and I told my friend who encouraged me to tell my mother.
All she did was make him apologize to me and that was the last I ever heard of it.
It's been years since this happened. I confronted my mother on this when I was about 15 or 16. I'm now 27 and I get sick everytime I think of it. I wonder if he has kids will he try to molest them or was that a stage he went through.
I've probed into the family history in recent years and uncovered some dark family secrets of incest. My grandfather molested/raped his two or three daughters for years until he was shot accidentally and killed. (an angel in disguise if you ask me) My uncle molested my sister over twenty years ago. All of my family who I've found out have been molested now have depression or have suffered very serious depressive episodes including myself.
Now I am on the search for answers and resolutions. My sex like with my partner has become non-existent. When he touches my breasts, I cringe. Feelings of guilt and shame overwhelm me. I think the incest has shawdowed my most imtimate emotions.
I need feedback and support and answers. I want to rid this shit so I can go on with my life. I am only young and what do I do next. Have years of denial and suppression caused the depression? Am I in constant numbness because of this?
I still talk to my brother and always have. I have told my fiancee about it and he never wants to see him again. He feels charges should be pursued and his soon to be wife should be told in case they have kids and it happens to them.
What kills me is that my parents act like nothings wrong. They still act, talk, carry on like nothing ever happened. It drives me crazy when I think about it. If my daughter had been molested, I would kill the person especially a family member. How sick can you get.
Where do I go next.... I've hit rock bottom so I guess I can't go anywhere but up.
Please provide any comments or advice. I'm open to anything.
I was attending college at Olympic College and I was sixteen years old. There was this nice young looking black male who approached me and asked to get me coffee. He seemed nice enough. We were in a rush to class so we arranged to go out to coffee as in drive off campus. A couple days later, on our way to coffee, in between classes he went stopped by his apartment and courteously invited me in. After I entered I didn't notice but he deadbolted the door from the inside with a key.
Inside there was nothing for furniture in the main room except a bed and stereo. We started dancing to music when he decided to take his clothes off-that's when I sat down. He continued to strip down to his boxers and pull his erect penis out and wave it in my face while telling me "look what you've done to me" I told him to put his clothes on and he acted like I was joking around and continued to wave it in my face. He then tried to unzip my shirt and I had to zip it back up four times. Then he jumped on top of me and trying to take my clothes off and holding my wrists down with a condom in his mouth humping me all at the same time. I said NO and STOP five times before he finally jumped up then apologized for his behavior because he said I'd gotten him this aroused and that was why he couldn't control himself-because I "made him do it by making him erect." After that he started asking for all types of sexual favors and even offered me money. I was told that we couldn't leave until I finished what I started and he wasn't going to leave like "this." Since he was going to get off no matter what I figured I could just get it done quick by giving him a blow job because I felt if not he would get it some other way-he had all ready proved to me that he can hold me down. After that he pulled up his pants and told me on the way back to the college that I need to be more careful.
I didn't tell anyone for four months. When I finally came forward I found out that there were six other Victims at the College. I guess he was what you called a sexual predator because the college didn't have any records on him either. He was standing around pretending to be a student, 36 years old, and looking for his next victim.
I have never taken the time to write my story down on paper. I am hoping that it will help to release the pressure that has been building up for six years. I apologize if I seem to ramble, but I know this is going to be very hard.
I guess that I should start by saying how I got where I was, and why it was such a big secret. I was sixteen, and had been dating Eric, who was 4 years my senior for 3 years. He was a sophomore in college, I was a sophomore in high school. This would have been all fine well and good, but my parents didnít know that I was dating him. It was April 1995, and I told my parents that I was going to spend school vacation at my best friends house. She had recently moved out of state, so it was a good story. I went up to spend the week with Eric, of course.
The first night I was there we went to a fraternity party. I had been to quite a few before, and this one was no different. We went with a group of our friends. Eric was a member of the fraternity, and we both knew that these parties tended to get a little out of control. My friend Marc told me to be careful and if I needed his help to just yell. If I knew how desperately I would need his help, I would have started yelling then.
The party went smoothly enough, but I got tired early. I went upstairs to Ericís room to go to bed. I told him I was going up and he promised he would follow me right up. I went up and got into bed. I had been lying there for a few minutes, and had started to drift off to sleep. I felt someone kiss my neck, and I thought that it was him. I moaned and rolled over, too tired to make love to him. Then I felt hands all over me, one on each wrist, pulling my hands above my head, and two pulling off my clothes. I opened my eyes and saw five guys standing over me. I tried to scream, but another hand quickly covered my mouth. The one who was on top of me told me not to scream and it wouldnít hurt. The voices around me kept saying to relax and enjoy myself. I tried to wriggle free, but it was no use. I felt like my insides were going to burst. I donít have words to describe the pain I felt. After the third guy was done with me, I knew that if I didn't find a way out of it, I probably wouldnít survive. I heard the music stop, as if on cue. The CD had run out in the stereo, now was my chance. I bit the hand over my mouth and yelled ďEric, Eric, ERICĒ as loud as I could. The hand that I bit backhanded me, but my effort was worth it. Marc had heard me and came running. When Eric saw him run up the stairs, he quickly followed. I donít remember much that happened after that. I was told that I went to the hospital. Somehow I ended up at Marcís apartment sleeping in his arms.
Of course if my night hadnít been bad enough, Ericís ego was hurt. He had a raging temper, and was convinced that I had planned something with one or more of those guys and it went bad. I tried to convince him otherwise, but his mind was set. To prove to me that I should be with him, he raped me two nights later. I begged him over and over to stop, telling him that he was the one that I loved and it didnít need to be like this. I donít know what was worse, being terrorized by five complete strangers, or raped by the person you think is the love of your life.
I have moved on, I have a loving boyfriend and a beautiful son. The memories of that night are still as vivid as ever. Sometimes I have flashbacks while making love to my boyfriend. I canít tell him what happens and what I see during my flashbacks, Iím afraid of his reaction. He knows I was raped, but thinks I should have gotten over it by now. Iím trying, but I just canít feel better. The nightmares go away every once in awhile, but they always come back. When is this going to end?