My story starts before I was even raped. It starts with my father.
My father was emotionally abusive, and I can never truly say that I felt loved by him. As a result, I crave male attention and constantly seek intimacy.
I lost my virginity to a guy that I thought was wonderful. It was two weeks after I turned 18. He never spoke to me afterwards, though we had been dating for a while before that.
Less than a month later, I went to a New Year's Eve party at a hotel, and it was a night that could have been one of the best nights of my life. I was having a blast, and eventually I ran into a guy I had met earlier in the week, a friend of a friend. He and I were both attracted to each other, and we began "hooking up". He took me to an empty room, and we continued. It never occurred to me that he would want to have sex. I was so naive. Anyway, I had been drinking that night, more than usual. While we were hooking up, I passed out. My fault, I know. I woke up to him having sex with me. I don't remember much of that, but I remember that I was completely frozen. I couldn't even tell him to stop. When he was done, he got up and put his pants on, and I did the same. I was so incredibly naive. I gave him my phone number.
Looking back, I see how this affected me. Although I didn't recognize it as rape, I recognized that I was hurt by him, and by the first guy that I had slept with. So I subconsciously decided that if sex didn't mean anything to guys, it wouldn't mean anything to me either. I slept with anyone I wanted to. This ruined a lot of possibly good relationships, and hurt me emotionally, to say the least.
The second time I was raped was in October of 1999. I met a guy at a party and began hooking up with him. I agreed to spend the night with him on the condition that we would not have sex. Well, guess what happened. I gave him my phone number too.
The last time (hopefully!) that I was raped was December 1999, right before Christmas. I had been out drinking with friends, and was intoxicated when I got home. My brother and his friend were tripping on acid, and they offered me some. I had never tried any drugs, but was curious, so I took two and a half hits over about two hours. My brother passed out in our family room, and I stayed with him friend, whom I had been friends with to a certain degree. Well, he and I went down to the basement so he could smoke, and I told him in no uncertain terms that I would not be having sex with him, because my brother had warned me that he might try something. So we were down in my basement, with my mom sleeping two floors above me... I don't remember much, but I remember being curled into a ball shaking. I remember him trying to kiss me, at which point I again told him that nothing would be happening between us that night. I remember drifting in and out of consciousness, and I remember him having sex with me. I wasn't able to stop him.
I'm 19 years old. I've slept with 19 guys to this date. I haven't had a real relationship ever. My longest one lasted four months. I've never orgasmed. I don't enjoy sex. I use it as a means of acquiring love. It doesn't work though. I crave love. I want more than anything to find someone who will love me unconditionally, who will be there for me no matter what, and who will accept me for who I am. I want to be treated like a princess. But as my therapists tell me, I have to love myself before anyone will love me. It's hard to love yourself when you've made so many mistakes.
This is very difficult for me to write but my therapist believes that the more I am able to talk about it the more I will have control over the shame and guilt - and maybe I will be able to finally love myself. This will get graphic so I hope it does not trigger anything for anyone - if so I apologize.
I was first molested by my stepbrother Troy at age 7...he was visiting and one day we were laying down watching cartoons and he put a blanket over us...he proceeded to put his hand down my pants and put my hand on his penis...he had me stroke him while he "played" with me - the hard thing to come to grips with is that I remember thinking this is wrong but it felt good at the same time - my therapist reminds me that God made that part of our bodies to respond to stimulation - but it still makes me feel like a child-whore. I tried to tell my mother but she said, "stop trying to be a princess and get all the attention"...she didn't believe me even though at this point I was wetting my bed and sucking my thumb! Her first betrayal...
At 9 I was already developing and had small breasts - one hot day my stepdad told me to take off my shirt if I was hot - that it was ok - I ran into my room and hid. I began to do that a lot because as I got older he made more comments about my blossoming body and he made me feel dirty - he made excuses for us to be alone and he used to sing this fucking song to me - some old song that had my name in it - he never touched me besides rubbing against me but I think if he'd have had the chance...he got me drunk at 10 - thinking it was funny - my mom just said "well you'll feel like shit in the morning"...
I started drinking daily after that...I started doing drugs at 12...at 13 I got caught for my only time ditching - me and 3 males friends had gone to this clubhouse behind a golf course and spent the day drinking a few beers and smoking pot - when I was found out my mom didn't ask if I'd been hurt by these guys she beat the shit out of me and accused me of fucking all three!! She kept yelling at me "do I need to take you in for a pregnancy test?? Do I need to have you tested for VD??" *I had only been kissed once by this age and not counting the molestation I knew almost nothing of sex*
I ran away at 15 after my mom left her 2nd husband and was pregnant by some alcoholic she moved in with - I was very heavy into drugs and alcohol at this point - I'd tried the "perfect daughter" route already but nothing was ever good enough for her - I lived in fear - being mentally abused daily by her.
While I was on the streets I became a junkie and one time I was "sold" for drugs to a disgusting old man who ran a burrito shop...I can still remember his fetid breath and missing teeth...his scalp was mottled and his hair greasy...I cried the whole time and he enjoyed fucking me the more I cried...every time he was done I tried to move off the bed but he'd pull me back and force me to lay next to his fat body. He made me get into degrading positions and he was very rough with me, bruising my wrists, arms and legs...even though I'd had sex before this was painful physically and emotionally - I just wanted to throw up each time he touched me. I tried to keep my eyes squeezed shut because I felt I would go insane if I had to look into his eyes - and I couldn't sleep cuz I'd been shot up with speed. I was able to escape the next day...barely able to walk.
Then a year later my friends dad decided to send us to England as a way to keep us from hitchhiking to New York to follow a band...so he hocked a bunch of stuff, my mom signed guardianship to him, and away we went. We had been badasses on the street in San Francisco so we felt we could take care of ourselves in London. We had heard about a guy named mad jock and told to keep away from him but when I met him he was charming and I thought the rumors had been just that...also I could handle myself. So we went back to his flat - grateful for a place to stay - and the hell began.
He tried to get me into the bedroom and I told him I didn't want to so he went in and came back out with a machete. He pushed me into the bedroom...he made me tell him I wanted to have sex with him. He held the machete to my throat and pushed open my legs with his legs...I wasn't even wet..he spit on his hand and rubbed his penis with it and just jammed it into me...I blanked out...I tried not to see his face above mine - eyes gleaming like a madman. I turned my head and stared at the door...I felt sooo humiliated when he pushed my legs up to my shoulders - I still can't have sex in that position - he would shove me into the living room when he was done and brag to his friends about "fucking the American bitch"...
He made me suck his dick - it smelled. He would put his hands on my head and force me to take him deeper until I gagged and he would laugh. He would run the machete down my body, between my legs, across my throat. He and his friends never touched my friend because she of was Japanese descent and they were prejudiced - they kept joking amongst themselves that her slit ran sideways...he would force me to take baths standing up and scrub myself...if I didn't do a good enough job he would do it all the while yelling at me for being a "dirty American whore"...I remember dried blood on the rag when I clean my vaginal area.
Finally one night after he tore up my passport and took my friends. He made me take a bath then shoved me into the living room, my towel fell off...his friend was there...he tossed me clothes - no bra or panties - made me get dressed right there...they began sniffing glue he offered some to me but I was already feeling so sick I said no and he said he'd have something better for me to huff in a while. I was gonna vomit so I tried to get into the bathroom but I knocked into his arm and that pissed him off so he slammed me back down onto the couch, leaned over me and bit my cheek. it hurt so much...his eyes were murderous. I remember seeing him pulling his face away...smiling with my blood on his lips. I knew that he would never let me go...I had already lost track of how long we'd been there...days.
He gave our passports to his neighbor and told her to watch us while they went downstairs to the pub...we left all our stuff and crawled on hands and knees to pass her flat, ran to the tube, we had no money, we jumped the train and took it to Trafalgar square and ran to the first bobby we saw. I was sooo scared jock would find us...the cop took us to the police station where we spent the night going over our story with some very kind detectives (thank you!). They sent some officers to retrieve our stuff...jock said everything had been consensual and that the bite was from rough sex but I wanted it...the cops knew differently by looking at my beaten body.
Apparently jock had done this before but no one would press charges - well I decided not to either because at that time in England the accused got to choose his level of court meaning he could be free for a long time before his trial. I did not have the mental strength to deal with that - I feared for my life. I called my mom from the embassy to arrange for her to help us pay for passage home (he had stolen all our money) but she said, "you got what you deserved (she didn't know about the rape-I tried to tell her but she said "I don't wanna hear what happened - you got yourself into trouble now get out")..my friends mom managed to come up with the money and as soon as we got to the states our friendship deteriorated so I moved back home...
During the 2 years on the streets I'd been violently raped twice and forced into sex many other times because I knew it was easier to say yes than to say no... at 17 I was having horrid nightmares and was sucking my thumb again...I once more tried to tell my mom what happened and she looked at me and said, "I don't want to hear it - I can't deal with it" I thought "you bitch!! if you can't deal with it how am I supposed to live with it?" I got heavier into drugs to try to escape...got into an abusive relationship that centered around drugs...I'm pretty sure I got pregnant by him cuz I missed my period for a few months then had a horrid one...I never stopped doing drugs during that time though...our relationship ended after it had escalated to us doing crack and him beating me when we'd come down. One night I caught him in bed with his ex girlfriend...it was enough to make me get sober.
Unfortunately my mental age was all of 14 even though I was 18 and I met my first husband when I was only 5 months sober. Sexually I felt frigid - full of fear and I put him off for 4 months when we finally had sex I got pregnant the first time. I went into denial and he figured out I was pregnant before I would admit it to myself...I was scared so I went along with his family's pressure and married him...my beautiful daughter was born 6 weeks early but healthy...he could not be found in the hospital when they were wheeling me into surgery (I had to have c-section)...
The mental abuse by him started right after we married. He told me I looked like a cow, I was fat, nobody would want me but him, that I looked like my car (a vw beetle), but of course he still wanted sex even though it hurt me. After my 1st daughter was born I tried to get out of sex...but he pressured me constantly and reminded me that he was the only one who would want me. When my older daughter was only 9 months old I got pregnant again - he was very pissed at me and blamed me-wouldn't talk to me and made me sleep on the couch. He was passive aggressive and just like my mom - knew my weaknesses and mentally manipulated me.
I took the abuse until my youngest daughter was 14 months old...by then he had moved us 3 hours away from his family and 4 hours away from mine. He was cheating on me and lying to me all the time...while still telling me how worthless I was, what a horrible mother I was, and how no one would want me. I would wake up at night with him over me, ready to thrust his penis in me-this brought back horrible flashes of jock and the fat man-I would freak out and he would yell at me that I was his wife and it was my duty….he would push my legs apart and do his thing…I just laid there.
I finally had the strength to move out...I began an obsessive relationship with a man who was separated from his wife, had just had a child with his girlfriend and was also fucking me…I felt I deserved nothing better and went through a horrible divorce during which several times my soon to be ex brought over his 44-magnum - just to "show me"...
In the 8 1/2 years since we've been divorced I've done therapy on and off...had a nervous breakdown, relapsed into drug addiction and alcoholism, attempted suicide twice, was finally diagnosed with manic depression/bipolar and got on meds...during which time I met my current husband and he has been a godsend. he has stuck by through thick and thin and together we had a beautiful daughter who is now 5 years old. I've been working in therapy on the incest and sexual abuse/rape as well as parental betrayal...trying to get to the point where I want to be healthy - physically and mentally - and where I love myself and believe that I deserve good things in life.
I am sorry this was so long and thank you for listening. If you want to write me please do so at: email@example.com
website = http://www.calpoly.edu/~jbounds/notequila.html
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I was born in RAF Cosford. I was from what my mother said a normal baby. I only began to have problems after the age of 18 months. That was when I had the combined injection for measles etc. I did also have a problem with my left eye at the time. There was an operation that my mother took me to and there were complications with this operation. My mother thinks that there was a lack of oxygen. So there you have it two problems that possibly caused me to go from a normal baby to a baby with co-ordination and behavior problems.
I couldn't cope in Play School and was slapped by one of the staff there. I didn't understand what I did wrong. To me it was normal play but I was hyper active.
By this time a girl was fostered by my parents called Katy. She had come to stay with my mom and dad and had problems in other foster homes. The homes little known to my parents had been abusive. My parents also found out that people had sexually abused her in her family. But they found this out all too late to help me or get help for Katy.
Katy used to play a game of sitting on me when my patents weren't about. Dad caught her once and told her to get off me. She did and he thought that was the end to it. But after that time she chose her times more carefully. The abuse continued from her sitting on my body to her sitting on my head. She was never naked and I felt like I was doing something wrong. To cut a very harrowing story short she also used to masturbate me and also make me perform oral. This went on until she was 16 years of age. It couldn't really be seen as rape or even child abuse because she was 4 years older than I and was but a child herself. Other things did happen but I don't feel ready to talk about them now. Suffice to say it was abuse but not so much an adult on a child even though she was older. Given that I was backward I was also much younger than she was mentally.
Because my parents thought that Katy and I were close and that it would be good to have a sisterly figure, Mom and Dad adopted Katy. I loved her as a Sister, but didn't love the person who used me. I did threaten to tell Mom once and she got in there first. She twisted my words and made out that I kept asking her to sit on me. Mom and Dad believed her and I never spoke of the abuse again. She sneered at me and said now they will think you are mental.
Anyway back to my school life at the age of 5 I soon attended ST Kanalms, I think it is spelt like that. A Catholic School in Halesowen. It should have been ideal but I couldn't cope. I got bullied and eventually punched the bully Jonathan Renolds in the face. Believe it or not I can remember all of these incidents. They all stand out in my mind. On the first day a teacher shouted at me and I got scared and put a bucket on my head and stayed in the toilet. Mom had to fetch me. The final straw for the school was the nativity play when I tickled the boy who was playing Joseph's feet.
I was promptly sent to the Childs Burns Clinic. As well as the problems I had at home with my sister. If I misbehaved I was taken to a room and a female teacher would pin me down. Sitting on my stomach. I of course associated this with my abuse and fought more in which case the teacher reciprocated by sitting on my shoulders. This again made me think of abuse. It didn't help that a teacher there mentally abused me by saying. God I would hate to be like you and other negative comments like that. Anyway that is in the past now. I did however have to take a junior type of Valium as well.
I went to Halesbury Special School from the aged of 7-11. I had no bullying and even had an interested party called Mrs. Barker who was doing a psychology degree and chose me as her subject. I still have the audio tape and listen too it. I was quite bright and she told my mother that she didn't know why I was there.
It wasn't long before Mr. Old the Head Master at the time agreed and I was promptly sent to a main stream middle school. Of course the announced my name in assembly and where I had come from. The bullying immediately started again. A boy named Spittle bullied me for a few weeks until after he destroyed a poppy that reminded me of my Granddad who died in the Second World War then I went to town on him and really hurt him. The teachers took Spittles side and told me that I would be sent back to Halesbury if any other incidents continued.
One day they set me up saying that I tried to stab somebody with a screwdriver. I didn't but never the less it nearly got me sent back. I had worked too hard so took the bullying.
When I moved onto the High School the bullying continued both physical and mental. I eventually broke down on the last day after laying into ever bully the last one Brian Parks or Biz as he was called was the main one. I had put up with him for 5 years eventually flipped and decked him.
I had the chance of going to college but my Nan had other plans. She got me sent to Bells Garage at Mucklow Hill Halesowen. I couldn't cope there. The fact that my Nan was a friend of the Boss didn't help either. A man by the name of Derek Sandson who took over the Service Managers position told me in no uncertain terms that he didn't like young men or women. He was another one who made my life hell. I worked for 27.50 per week in 1986 and only picked up my money monthly. I should have taken the college chance. But that as they say is life.
I left school with a City & Guilds Community Care Certificate and Proficiency in Math and English. These qualifications were not sufficient for today's jobs market. But were better than nothing. One thing that helped me to excel was Computers. I have found that my forte and it has helped me to gain a lot of confidence.
Soon because of these qualifications I could only take on either YTS Retail or Factory Work. Sid used me in the YTS Retail side. I can remember him offering me an extra £5 per day to work with him in the VAN. I never got the money and soon it all blew up on my eighteenth birthday when I had to work from 7:00am 7:00pm. I asked Sid if I could go early and he said no. A special meal had been booked and all my Auntie's and Uncles were round my parents house as a surprise. Of course he wouldn't let me go early so that was spoilt. I ended up drinking alone on my eighteenth and getting very drunk.
I went to an agency after that and also after leaving Dallas in Blackheath due to health reasons. Mainly because, they wanted me to shovel rotten dog meat and turds. It was meant to be a retail position. But I was given literally all the shitty jobs.
Ok the agency work placed me at Hayes Lane in Lye where I was meant to process all the National Health Lottery forms. But the contract fell through and so that ended after 3 days. My mother found that living in Hillbrow wasn't doing any of us any good. So we moved from Quinton to Halesowen in November 88, where we now reside. Katy by this time had made her own life and was at University in Coventry. I secured a job at James Grove and Sons in the Hawne Department. The people there were very much like kids. But I stuck it for 8 months. It didn't pay much but was only a quarter of a mile down the road if that. So was within walking distance. I left Groves got a job for more money at H & J Europhane and then Got a Job in Lye again called Wytex Fibre. All these were factory jobs and kept me in money. I left Wytex when they moved and got on a training scheme straight away.
This was a Government ET Scheme based at Halesowen College. I learned typing and word-processing. I transferred to Apex Trust for the later part of the scheme and past my RSA 1 in Information Technology with a Distinction and also past RSA1 Word-processing. VQ1 Business Admin was also past at the centre as well.
It wasn't long before I got further qualifications at Venture Training. I gained City and Guilds 726 CLAIT and also NVQ1 In Business Administration. I was 24 when I got the confidence to try a BTEC National in IT Application and came out with a Distinction. I didn't even think I would pass it. Immediately I gained a Job at Halesowen College, also that place where I took the BTEC. Everything went OK until the person there took a likening to me. She was married and when I told her no she made things difficult for me. She waited her chance and when my Nan died who I was very close to she jumped on it. I virtually ran the office on my own. But still they took her word and that was my first break down. Dr Shameem gave me six weeks and I received a letter telling me not to return to work off the college. Dr Conlon saw me but I don't think I opened up to him like I am finally opening up to you now. So he couldn't help me. I got myself back together and met who I thought was a nice girl. She was a single mother and I got on well with her son Phillip. I really thought that that was it and that I finally had a chance of a normal life. It wasn't to be. My family was less than happy with Julie. They didn't like the way Phillip was treated and didn't like the fact that she never tided up her maisonette, but I was besotted with her. I told my family to mind their own business and carried on with Julie for 8 months. At the end of that time Phillip became Ill. I visited him in Hospital and so did a mysterious stranger who it turns out Julie was seeing behind my back. He knew too much about the inside of Julies maisonette for my liking. He swore that they had not had sex. But he would say that. He also told my parents that we could listen to what she put on his answering machine. My whole world fell apart again.
I got a job and Julie said that she would meet me in West Bromwhich where I worked, she never did and that put a strain on my work loads. They also were a very clicky bunch. They found out about Halesebuy. Maybe I did tell them something and maybe I thought that they could cope. I was wrong that isolated me more from the Office Group. I eventually felt myself getting worse and my work suffered. The finale straw was when my boss told me because of bad management that he was going to cut my flexible working hours. This was not on as my Mother was in Hospital with Breast Cancer and I needed to see her. They didn't appear to care and so I woke up the next day feeling very giddy. I couldn't go to work and Doctor Shameem gave me sick note after sick note. I never went back.
That brings me to the present day situation. I have been on Anti Depressants and periodically see a Doctor at Halesview. I also see a counselor at Dr Shameems Surgery most Wednesdays I do hope that this helps others. I want to go back to work and to hold down a job but circumstances at the moment are all stacked against me.
Update: Since I wrote the above I have a least found out that I may also have asperger's syndrome, which is a degree of autism. Probably this has added to my abuse problems.
Steve ... United Kingdom
icq = 45589107
im = Chemer27