I am 18 years old. I was abused throughout my childhood by my father and more recently he attacked me again. Shortly after this he commited suicide. I was also raped almost three and a half years ago by a man I hardly knew.
I confided in two friends which I regret. I also told a teacher. Sometimes I feel really stupid for telling her but I am grateful that she listened to me.
My way of carrrying on is to block everything out as much as possible. I know that this is not dealing with the problem but it is all I feel able to do at the moment. Not a day goes by when feelings of deep dread and thoughts of suicide do not enter my head. I do not know what will happen to me. I cannot bear to think about the future and I can exist only from day to day, hour by hour, minute by minute.
Sometimes I smile on the outside but inside the pain rips me apart every day. I think it is very difficult for anyone who has not been through something like this to understand the effect it has on a person's life. What happened is not all that I am but it is a big part of who I am.
There are moments when I feel incredibly angry and this turns into a feeling that I cannot let him win. Yet everything mostly seems pointless and it's not a question of winning or loosing. I know that many terrible things happen in the world we live in but I struggle to make sense of this.
I'm from a very poor family, so since birth I've always shared a room with my older brother. He was my best friend, until he became friends with Matt (name changed).
After Chip became friends with Matt he went through a ton of changes...he started abusing neighborhood animals, his grades slipped, he started using drugs...and he was only 13.
My father was never in our lives, so being a single parent my mother was pretty oblivious to Matt's bad effect on my brother and was just happy that Chip had a friend. She was completely ecstatic when Matt would come over and spend the night...and I didn't really mind either, at first. But after a couple of years when I turned 12 all that changed. Matt came to spend the night when my mom switched to the night shift. He and Chip started to smoke marijuana and drink, being 12 and naive I smoked up too. After a couple of hours I noticed Chip and Matt whispering.
"Hey Shelly! Get up and dance," Matt instructed as he turned up the stereo.
Being totally stoned I did as he asked, and he got up and started to dance with me. His hands started to run all over my body. The next thing I knew, they carried me into Mom's room and while chip held me down, Matt took off my clothes.
He told me "You like dancing all sexy, slut? I like it too, let me show you how much," and started to stick his fingers inside of me and lick me. I was scared and ashamed.
He continued to grapple his hands onto my chest and thrust into me until he got off then he held me down while my brother took his turn. They were 15 then.
This continued for two years. I couldn't tell my mom...I was so embarrassed, and I was afraid that she would be mad because it would be one more thing she'd have to deal with, and she already worked too hard to support her family.
But six months ago it all ended. The drugs and drinking all caught up with Matt and Chip...they were on their way to a concert and got into an accident. Matt died instantly, and Chip died a day after. They were only 17.
Right now this is the first I've spoken about what happened to me. I still don't want to seek help...I dont want my mom to worry about me...she's still grieving over Chip...and so am I. I also don't think anyone would believe me...they might think I'm making it up for attention. Someday when I'm older I'll probably go to a professional.
I was raped when I was 15 by my boyfriend, I had taken the day off from school and decided that my boyfriend and I needed to talk, so I invited him down. The reason we needed to talk was that my parents had found out that he was in a gang where he had come from and that he had been in jail before. I didn't want to break up with him, I thought that there was a good part to him, I thought that he wasn't the monster everyone thought he was.
My father came home for lunch that day and my boyfriend was upstairs in my room, it had already happened, but I was told that I had to act normal or else he would kill my father and then he would kill me. I wanted to protect my father so I didn't say a word. I remember the words he said to me as he left my house that day, he said " Now you're a bitch for life." I tried telling one of my friends at school the next day, it took all my courage to say anything, but she went around telling people that I bragged about sleeping with him, so I didn't tell anyone after that, I thought why would anyone believe me. Besides he was my boyfriend who would believe that a boyfriend could rape you anyway.
I dealt with it for four years before I ever talked about it with anyone. I dealt with him coming back into town, I was afraid of my own shadow. He would call and tell me that he had people watching me and things like that I was scared.
And you know what the sad part is it happened again. With someone else. On March 1, 2000 I went to a guys apartment, someone I barely knew. And he held me down on a bed while he did things to me, and he put me in a choke hold so tight that I couldn't breath. I was scared. On my way to this guys apartment I had a gut feeling that I should of turned around, but I didn't, I don't know why. On March 2, 2000 I spent three hours in the state police office giving my statement. I had to call this guy to try to get him to confess, but nothing happened until he was arrested about a month after my statement for third degree sexual abuse. I found out that this guy had a prior charge of sexual abuse, and about 3 months after he was arrested for my charge he was arrested again for Third degree rape. I called into the ADA's office so they could tell me that because of my age and because of the facts of the case they weren't going to persue my case anymore. The real topper to this whole thing is this guy isn't even a citizen of this country, he's here on some type of visa.
I know that what I have written probably doesn't make any sense but I've dying to write this down to tell at least part of my story. I feel like I am going crazy. I am afraid and I feel alone. Does anyone have any advice?