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Survivor Stories

this is my fisrt time writing everything out so i hope this makes sense. i grew up in a very abusive house. my dad was verbaly and physcaly abusive. my mom neglcted us. i was told that when i was a baby (i dont know how old) that i was molsted by a family friend. i was never told who it was what happed. or if anything happed to him.

when i was 9 we moved into this buliding that had alot of people my family knew that lived there. my parents best friend was this guy that babysat us. well from the time i was 9 to 12 he would rape me. almost daily he would use me for himslef and sometimes his friends. he would give me coke and other drugs....soon those became my escape. we moved when i was 13. after that i began having sex for drugs. sometime id get what i needed and others id be beaten and raped.

when i was 15 i got clean

when i was 16 i was raped at school by a friend of mine. at a school play. i felt so safe there and it was all shattered in one night by some foolish boys act. after that i fall into a deep depression. cutting and drinking took over my life.

the saddest part of my story comes now. about a week ago; ive goten into drugs again and drinking. while partying with my "friends" i passed out only to wake up with them raping me. im not a survior. not yet maybe...not ever. but i hope and prey that one day...i will be

im: poeticookie

It has taken me a long time to talk about this. I just recently told my husband. It has been 10 years since this started happening. This guy I was dating in high school was at first very good to me. After a few months he started being mean and abusive . He would get jealous if I talked to other guys. I finally had enough and told him it was over. Then,not long after I told him that, I was at a local park sitting in my car and he grabbed me from my car and dragged me to a nearby woods and raped me. This was the first of many times he raped me. Sometimes it was just him and other times it was him and his friends. I don't want to go into details but it was a very hard thing for me deal with. He told me if I ever told anyone inculding the police he would kill me and I know he would have. I know now that I should of told the police but I was to scared. I thought it was my fault.

I pushed it all to the back of my mind and forgot about it . I was just to much for me to deal with at the time. I recently told my husband about the first time. After I told him I started remembering all the other times too. It has been a difficult time for me. I told my husband (then my boyfriend) right after we started seeing each other but he started making inquires to a detective friend of his and I was scared that the guy who raped me would find out and hurt me. So, I told my boyfriend I had made it up so he wouldn't get himself or me killed. Now my husband feels like I betrayed him.I know I should of just let him inquire about it at the time. It would of saved me a lot of pain. I hope someday he can forgive me. The last time I was raped was right after my husband and my first child was born. The guy came to our apartment and raped me. Thank God I haven't seen him since. That was almost 7 years ago. I had to

write this as my first step in the healing process.


alright, here goes: This is my first time at a rape website so I don't even how people are able to put this down, so please bear with me:

my name is Dianne. I'm from Albuquerque, NM. I'm a junior in high school and am 17. When I was 16 I was raped. I had been at a party when a boy i knew just a little showed up. He said he wanted to talk to me, well to put a long story short especially since it's still hard for me to talk about and I don't want to get into details, i'm assuming you can guess what happened. The thing is i didn't tell anyone. Not a soul, noone in my family, not my bestf friend who had been at the party with me, noone. My period was late.

The rape is fuzzy, thank god, due to my need to repress it all, but I can recall with great clearness exactly how I was feeling that week. I remember perfectly crying in the bathroom, with my parents just down the hall. It was Thanksgiving, then. My sister had just gotten back from college. I went upstairs to go before we left the house and there it was, my period. I was so relieved, I was estatic. After that everything seemed okay. I pretended it never happend, never spoke a word of it.

I started seeing this great guy, who was so sweet to me, but for some reason i couldn't be alone with him, i got tense whenever he, or anyone for that matter touched me, needless to say we broke up shortly, after I must admit i treated him very badly.

Then, in August i discovered a lump down there. I had an STD, I knew it, still having told noone what had happened i went down to the Planned Parenthood to get a checkup all by myself. i was in there maybe five seconds before i started balling, i told them everything, it was the first time i had cried since i thought i was pregnant. i got the checkup and miraculously everything was okay with me.

The Planned Parenthood gave me the number for the rape crisis center in my town, and i thought maybe it was time to deal with this thing. i started group therapy there and that's when things really started to go to hell. i finally had to deal with it, i had buried so far down and never really thought about it but then it happened i finally realized i had been raped. I never knew anyone that had been raped, it was never discussed at my school, unheard of in my neighborhood.

i became severly depressed. I was tired all the time. i couldn't concentrate on school, i had been an a student all this time and now i felt school was pretty insignificant compared to what i was feeling. i could barely do the work. everyone had to know how unhappy i was. one of my teachers asked me one day if i was feeling better, and i found myself telling her i was going to the rape crisis center. she was the first person out of group that i had said anything to.

i had imagined telling someone would be an uplifting experience, something that would make me feel lighter somehow, less burdened. it didn't it just made me feel worse. that weekend i was on the phone with my sister, she was being mean and telling me to snap out of my depression, i told her she didn't understand, she asked if i was hiding something, jokingly she asked if i had been raped, i started sobbing i told her what happened she started to cry too. i still felt awful. telling people didn't make it better, it made me feel like more of a victim. my sister wanted me to tell my parents which i wasn't ready for. i told my school counselor, someone i was very close too, and one more teacher. i still felt like shit. the two teachers that i told gave me an extension on my finals, which i have to take when i get back to school.

the day i was done with classes for the semester when my sister was back in town (i had taken her to meet my counselor at the crisis center) i told my parents what happened. They were shocked, but they handled it very well. i was surprised they were very grown up about it. that brings me to now i'm not so sad anymore, i'm still tired but not to the same degree, my mom has gotten into it and has started to read all the documents the crisis center gave me. right now i'm pretty angry, the documents call it generalized anger, where i'm directing my anger at everyone. i started reading the information the crisis center gave me too, and i'm feeling better. i;m just trying to get my life in order. i justed wanted to talk to someone about, reach out a little so hear i am typing away at my computer at 12:00 at night. Thanks for listening to my story, i'm sorry it was so long, i just hope one day my story will help someone else.


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