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Survivor Stories

I was 11 when it started I was playing house with my cousin I never thought he would hurt me he was kissing me ang i grabbed his hands that was a mistake cuz he took my hands and threw me backwards he penetrated me with his fingers first and I was trying to scream and kick but he had me pinned and no words would come out he stole my virginity it hurt more than words can say he raped me for 3 hours i know that much he said it was my fault that we were just "playing" he was 17. when I was 13 it started again he raped me everytime i sa him and i tried so hard not to be alone with him but he is my parents fav. he raped me until i was 16 i am now 17 everyday it hurts i have let myself crumble i cut myself all the time cuz i just can't bare the pain i feel so terrible i wonder if i can make it it hurts soooo much i am so scared that i will die

Karen
im: paintedchild


Im 14, im still not sure on what he did to me...was it rape? or just molest? I can't remember, i still don't see how it happened, this happened when i was between 8-11. My parents had just broke up and my dad was seeing this realy nice woman, she had two sons, one was 16 the other was 13, well months went by my dad asked for her hand in marriage. Me and my younger brother moved in along with my dad. i became good friends with the neighbor boy who was my same age, and my younger step-brother. It was fun we got along.

My neighbor started to have sleepover inviting me and my step-brother over, we played truth or dare nothing big, but after the forth sleepover they started forcing me to take off my clothes and "flashing" them, the neighbor boy would force me to make out with him and touch him, my step-brother at home kept asking for oral sex i always refused. The sleepovers stopped but the harrassment didn't my step-brother got worse, sneaking into my room at night wanting me to give him sex, i started to become annoyed so finally i said yes, i quickly regretted it, when my parents would leave and ask my step-brother to babysitt he would wrestle me and pinn me down he'd try to force himself into me and ask if it hurts, he'd feel me up when their was a chance, at night he'd come into my room and grope me up and try to rape me, i'd pretend to be alseep.

its so horrible i have to see him everyday of my life knowing what he did to me, i was too young to believe it was wrong, now that im older i've confronted him and told my parents, thank god for that...my story isn't as bad as the others but its wrong and i hope everyone who has been sexual harrassed will find the courage to do something about it.

Darci


Where do I start? How do you since there really isn't a beginning nor an ending? That is the case for me. From what I have *remembered*, my abuse began in infancy. The more memories I had, the crazier I thought I was. How can a baby be abused? In many ways! As horrific as it is, I could *see* how physical abuse can occur.. and mental abuse ranks right along with it, but sexual?? Still to this day, I feel guilt for even trying to visualize, let alone comprehend, how sexual abuse can be placed upon an infant. And why do I feel the shame? Don't have those answers... but they do exist somewhere deep inside.

I am the youngest of two children... my sister is three years older than me. I never had a safe environment to feel as though I could tell someone. My perp preconditioned me... meaning the earlier the start the better for the abuser. If one knows of no better, then why would they seek it? My father(perp) an alcoholic and abuse *victim* (he doesn't deserve the title of survivor,, I!!! broke the cycle) was the Man's man of men. (Rolling eyes in disgust). He was funny, life of the party and quite seemingly carefree. He was *active* in coaching my softball team... this was another factor in his preconditioning. He took every opportunity to belittle me in front of my teammates and parents. Surely, they saw how stupid I was... worthless... just as he said I was. I was the butt of every joke. He would encourage my sis constantly,,, and as he did that... he took from my soul... as empty and exempt as it was, it still hurt and to my horror, affected any and every part of my life in later years. It was like his surplus... surplus of stabs in my soul... to assure me in my years that I STILL am a piece of shit. It is active presently as well.

This is starting to hurt now... i will be brief... I was his toy... er.. his tool... ritualistic sexual abuse... extreme perversions no child can ever comprehend. I had to pick up dog shit with my hands. I would have to sit for hours on my bed in the dark and not be able to lay down... if I did... even if i didnt.. it was the belt. i was forced to consume things that not evenan animal would consume. I was forced to commit acts of self-injury upon myself... much to his amusement. Gotta stop here.

Cori


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