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About oakprs

  • Birthday 09/18/1991

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  1. Thoughts on sex as a child

    Haven't written on here in a while, but had some things on my mind that I couldn't shake. One of them was about how I thought of sex when I was a kid which I made a post about in gathering place. I wanted to talk about that more here. I mentioned that as a child sex had two purposes: babies and hurting other people. Because of this belief I held thanks to the SA, there was this running narrative that I kept in my head as a kid (I was 6 when I started it). The whole narrative was me as the pink power ranger (cause I was still a little girl in the 90's) having been kidnapped by the main villain. My power ranger friends wanted to save me but they couldn't get in the lair. Over the next few years they would try and fail over and over again. In the meantime, I (as the pink ranger) was being sexually abused and tortured. Every night they would sexually abuse me (generally depending on what "J" had done in real life) and then torture me by hitting me and kicking me and verbally abusing me (again the verbal stuff was usually just me using what "J" had actually said to me and the physical stuff what I imagined he would do to me if I made him angry enough). I would sit and go through this in my head over and over, but they could never get me and I could never be saved. I'd play around with the idea of me dying cause how else can you possibly go on being a hero if all this has been done to you for so long. There was no other way around it and I killed myself (as the pink ranger) off. The villains had won and the narrative finally ended. It's crazy looking back at this story I made up and all the things I used to think as a young kid. I'm going to stop here but I might come back to this.
  2. Relating to People

    So...today I wanted to write about how the csa affected my relationships with others. Essentially, how it warped my view of other people. I mentioned in a previous blog about how "J" used to torment me emotionally by constantly lying to the point where I never knew if anything he said was true or not. This is essentially how I started navigating my life. I never knew whether to believe people or not. Are they joking? Are they lying? Was that sarcasm or are they being serious? As a kid this hindered my ability to make friends and generally talk to people. I was nice and that was my default persona. People seemed to like me enough and so I just went with that. If they liked me, they'd be less likely to mess with me or do something to me or try to confuse me. That was my logic anyway. This was to the point where I'd go out of my way to do something nice for someone I really didn't even like or didn't seem to like me. Actually I'd especially go out of my way to do something nice if it seemed like the person didn't like me. Either that or avoid them all together like a cowering mess. Of course there are times, especially as a child where your friends are going to tease you or mess with you. I did not handle this aspect of friendship very well. I took things seriously all the time, though I would pretend to laugh with the others, so that they wouldn't hate me. In a way, this kind of made it easier for them to mess with me cause they knew I wouldn't get mad >_<. I had no idea what a "normal" boundary was and I didn't want them to be mad at me for being mad at them so I just said go for it. I was also super sensitive and HATED this aspect of myself. I would cry for the stupidest things and then hate myself for hours for crying. I was like 8 and hating myself because I cried and allowed others to see that weakness. There was no in-between with me. Either I was strong or weak. Or in "J" words I was either mature or a p*ssy. By middle school, I had a reputation for being the nicest, sweetest girl you'd ever meet. I'd help anyone with anything they needed and rarely said no to anything. I never really learned the proper usage of that word anyway. I had two best friends that had broken me down and had gotten to see the "core" of the person that was me. However, to anyone else, I was a walking smile ready to help with anything. There were few flaws in my armor and for the most part, having a problem with me was almost seen as taboo. I had accomplished my task and everyone like me. At the same time I had kept most at a considerable distance. I solidified my safety by making sure everyone liked me, but kept my bubble intact by making sure it was all superficial. It worked on both students and teachers alike or so I thought. There was this one boy, who I can only assume saw through my facade and saw me for what I was - a vulnerable little girl who couldn't stand up or herself. He was always pretty nice to me, until a point were we had to do a group project together. Somehow, I ended up in a group of all guys (and the underachievers at that). This boy who we will call "P" established himself as the leader of our group. He gave out jobs and ensured that I had the most menial job. I did try to protest and started saying that I could contribute a lot more than that. He laughed and said that there was nothing I could do right and that they wouldn't have me ruin this for them. With that, I shut up and set out to do the task assigned to me. I did discreetly help out here and there just to make sure that our grade didn't suffer as again - these were the underachievers- and I was a straight A student. They ended up fooling around and I had to pick up a lot of their work. At one point when the teacher wasn't there, "P" asked me to hit him as hard as I could. I said no of course and thought he was insane. Eventually, he kept touching me and saying I had to. I got annoyed and hit him (though it was half-assed). He then went ahead and gave me a smack in the face as hard as he could. He smiled and said I shouldn't have hit him if I didn't want him to hit me back. At this point, I was pretty scared of "P". He was like my abuser 2.0 without the sexual part. He used the same head games and knew where to jab to hurt me the most. He saw through everything I tried to portray and reminded me that I was never safe. He even got the others in our group to cheer him on and agree with his weird reasoning. When the project was over, he tried to tell the teacher that I had done less and therefore deserved a worse grade. The teacher knew my work ethic and disagreed, luckily. The crazy part is it never even occurred to me to tell the teacher about him. We had a good rapport and I trusted her, but the thought never crossed my mind that he's being a jerk and I could tell someone. Just like with "J". By high school, I still had the same two best friends. Freshman year, I had told them about the csa and they understood me somewhat better. However, I also started to get really bad anxiety and depression. I knew I had to hide that too and so I did. I smothered it all down and put on a smile as usual. The difference was that now, just being "nice" wasn't doing much. Everyone was trying things out and experimenting (as high schoolers do) and I was still the same vulnerable little girl with a plastic smile who wouldn't let anyone get too close. I was still considered a good person, but now people saw that I wanted to be left alone. I became an ice queen, albeit a nice one. I was approachable, but no one invited me anywhere. I would talk to tons of people at school, but would be alone come the weekend. I wanted nothing to do with them and they were happy to oblige. I wasn't like them and didn't know how to be. I wanted to be more open, but had no idea how to do that. My best friends tried. They would invite me out with them and their friends and again I would do well and say the expected things and then never talk to that person again. I was polite, but nothing more. I had locked myself away so tight, I couldn't even find the key anymore. I started to SI and panicked around people I didn't know, especially guys. All the while keeping up this happy, nice persona. I hated everyone, but still laughed along. I wanted to have more friends, but kept myself locked away. Luckily in college, I was able to figure myself out. I made my own friends and had a blast. I opened up more and showed myself to more and more people. I'm still not entirely sure of myself and can still be pretty awkward, but I'm getting better.
  3. emotional stuff

    Today I want to focus more on the emotional side of things I suppose. I was feeling pretty anxious this past weekend to the point where I almost had a panic attack a couple of times. I haven't really felt that anxious in a very long time so I started thinking about the emotional side of the abuse/my childhood in general. Please excuse the rambling... I shall call him "J". My mom got a new job and her boss' wife would watch me and best of all, they lived right down the street from the office! I could see how this was a godsend to my mother and she had no way of knowing what exactly this would end up doing to me... Anyway, J didn't start out being emotionally abusive. He was sexually abusive from the get-go, but the emotional stuff didn't come until later. He became really mean to me, but always phrased it in a way that made me feel like I had brought it on somehow. Like he'd call me stupid and when I said I wasn't he'd say something I was too young to understand and then say "see, you're stupid". His favorite word for me though was p*ssy. That was essentially my name around him. I didn't like it, but I also didn't know what it meant. One day, I guess he figured that out and then tormented me with the word. He said he'd stop calling me one, if I could tell him what it meant. Eventually, I gave up and he pointed between my legs and said that's a p*ssy, that's all you are. He'd threaten me with his dog and tell me that if I don't stop being so stupid, he'd get his dog to bite me and eat me and no one would know what happened to me. I was TERRIFIED of that dog, he always got it to growl and bark at me. One day, his mom had ordered chinese food (pork fried rice) and he told me that all the pieces of red meat was human meat and that he knew the guy at the chinese food place and told him to murder my dad and cook him in the meat. I didn't really believe him, but still couldn't eat the food. His mom yelled at me for wasting it, and made me eat it anyway and then I threw up. I didn't eat pork fried rice for YEARS. He continued with the "joke" every time they got chinese. He'd ask when the last time I heard from my dad was and if it wasn't for a while he'd say, it's because you ate him and he's dead. He'd then threaten to do the same to my mom. If it wasn't threatening to cook her, he'd tell me she didn't love me. He'd say you're mom works so much because she can't stand to be around you. Why do you think she gets home so late? She hates you and only pretends to love you. Again, I knew he was just trying to upset me, but these were the lines that started my anxiety. At around 7 years old, I had serious anxiety over people not caring about me/not wanting me/ going away forever. I'd think my mom just left me somewhere and went away and is never coming back. She really does hate me and won't come back for me. This extended to all family members and eventually friends. I became such a people pleaser that I essentially let anyone say or do whatever they wanted to me as long as they'd be my friend. I started freaking out about school. I had to make sure I wasn't stupid that I would grow up and be smart and show J that I did know these things and that people did love me. I had decided long ago that my father no longer cared about me and when my step-father came into the picture, I kept myself at a distance. He was nice and tried hard, but I just couldn't love him cause what if he left too? That's one of the relationships I feel most bad about cause my step-father really is a great guy and treated me like his own daughter, but to this day my relationship with him is purely superficial, I never did let him in and now I don't know how to. This was essentially my relationship with most males. I kept them all at arms length. Going back to my mother, she was trying really hard as a single mom with two young children. She was only 19 when she had me and we had only lived in this country for about 5 years at this point (we moved from dominican republic when i was about 2). As a kid though, it's really hard to see it that way and I did become resentful and paranoid because she was always away, but at the same time I couldn't let her know that. If she knew that I was upset about her always working, she might really decide to leave me and finally admit she doesn't love me and then J would be right and I couldn't have him be right. One day my mom had to go to this building for social services or something or other to do with financial assistance. It was super strict and they only let people in if you were there on time. I was on line with my mom waiting to get in and she realized she had forgotten something she really needed. She left me in line as she went back home to get it. It was the most distressing thing I had experienced as I thought that this was it. She left me. J was right all along. She brought me here to leave me with all these government people so they could put me in an orphanage, but she was just too scared to tell me. They let everyone in the building, but my mother hadn't come back yet. A security guard was reading some rules out loud and said that once the door was closed we weren't allowed to open it for anyone else. I was too scared to tell the security guard that my mother had left me so I just went in the building and sat on the floor wondering what I was going to do now. After a few minutes I heard a knock on the door and my mother's voice telling me it was her and asking me to open the door. I freaked out cause the cop said I can't open the door, but my mom was on the other side and I wanted her. The other adults told me to open the door while the guard wasn't looking and I just cried. I eventually opened the door, but was certain that the guard would notice her there and know I opened the door and kick us out or take us to jail. I dissociated the rest of the time we were there and didn't say a word. I don't think she really understood the gravity of that experience for me as she didn't know about what J was doing and saying to me. This post is long enough so I'll end it here.
  4. More experiences

    After wring my story the other day, there were other thoughts I wanted to get out as well, but writing it all at once would have been way too long and way too draining. I'm writing now about the fact that I was pretty much surrounded with the point that my body does not belong to me and that I was not allowed to refuse beng touched. Besides the two I wrote about there were other little things that just served to drive the point home. 1) there was another family friend who would watch my sister and I when babysitter 1 could not. They had two children themselves one was a girl about a year or two older than me and one was a boy 2 or 3 years younger than me so when I was about 8 he was 6 and the girl was like 10. The parents in this case were pretty useless. They would have the TV babysit me and I was in charge of my sister. I'd get yelled at if she cried and I would feed her, change her, and play with her. The boy decided he had a little kid crush on me and would constantly try to kiss me and hold me and touch me which made me really uncomfortable. Now I don't blame him really cause he was so young I don't think he knew what he was doing. But I do blame his parents who encouraged him to touch me and then they'd get mad when I would push him away. Basically saying if he wants to touch and kiss you just let him what's the big deal? To me it was a big deal! If I don't want to be touched then they shouldn't encourage it. It also didn't help that this little kid had the same name as my primary abuser. 2) At the same house as above. There was a time when I was playing truth or dare with the girl and some friends. It got to my turn and they said I had to chose between taking my shirt off and showing my not there yet boobs to a guy friend that was there and letting him touch me or letting the brother touch me without pushing him away or protesting for 5 minutes. I refused both and they tried every persuasion they could to get me to take my top off (as that was what the guy friend wanted - also he was older like maybe 12 or 13). this time I really put my foot down though and I just kept saying NO and that I just wouldn't play anymore. They eventually left me alone but sheesh it took forever just to convince some kids that no, I will not be violated AGAIN. 3) My primary abuser had a friend who was a girl and lived next door. We used to go over a lot and the girl would play with me. I considered her a friend and while the boy would constantly say sexual stuff to and about her she would usually respond in a way that would either shut him up or would make him mad enough to leave (which I enjoyed). Then came the day when she too turned on me. I had convinced my mom to let me go over by myself just to play with her. She knew the family and said yes. When I arrived she had all the toys ready and told me that we could play but that there was something she wanted. She then told me that she wanted to have sex with me and that its ok that we're both girls that doesn't mean we are gay. I spent the whole time waiting for her to touch me but we ended up just playing with the toys. I was confused and that was also the last time she invited me over. I'm thinking maybe she felt bad? Idk but I was glad she never touched me but sad that I lost a friend and an ally against the boy. All these experiences just basically made me feel like it was normal. People are going to touch you whether you want them to or not or they will at least try. Adults will be no help and they will not care. I also felt like maybe that's just what it would be like when I became a teenager too. That all teenagers were just thinking about sex and that's just how it would be for me too.
  5. detailed story

    So the blog is a pretty cool idea, I honestly just noticed this was a feature. I think it might serve me well of just being able to write things mostly for the sake of having to get it out and others may read at will or not. I guess I'll start just by telling my story and whatnot. I've told it a few times before, but it does help just to get it out. Plus the image keeps running through my head so I might as well give it a place to land for a while. ***TW*** I'm not holding back on details!! I was SA by my babysitter's son from the ages of 6-9 (approximate ages based on pictures I have that were taken at his house). He was maybe 12 or 13 (I remember him being in middle school) I was always a shy kid and I guess he saw that or whatever I don't really know why he started what he did. But either way, while I don't remember every time he abused me, I do remember the first time pretty clearly (I guess cause it was new). The first time was within maybe 30 minutes to an hour of me being there. His mom pretty much introduced us, closed the door, and was gone. He was playing video games and I wanted to play too. He offered the control to me and had me stand in front of him (he was siting on his computer chair). As I was playing, I noticed he started to unbotton my pants and I remember asking "what are you doing?". I remember thinking it was weird cause no one had done that before. He didn't say anything and just kept taking off my pants and then underwear. I didn't say anything after that either and kept playing Mariokart. Afterwards, I remember him picking me up and putting me on his lap at which point I noticed that he also didn't have any pants or underwear on. I remember him moving me up and down and basically rubbing his p***s in between my legs. I honestly had no idea what any of that was, but I had the sense that it was probably something bad and that I shouldn't tell anyone about it or else I might end up in trouble. It continued from that point on for the three or so years that his mother babysat me. It was the same scene every time although after a while he got comfortable enough to not need to distract me anymore so usually I just sat there and stared at the wall while he was doing what he did. I don't remember if he ever penetrated me although I don't believe so, but I also wouldn't be surprised if he did. The worst thing was always afterwards, I always pretended to have to use the bathroom so that I could wipe his c*m off of me. I didn't know what that was at the time though, however I know he enjoyed watching me go to the bathroom since I guess he knew exactly what I would be doing. He'd always get dressed and go to his bedroom door and open it with a smile on his face. He also started to be an overall jerk. He emotionally abused me as well as sexually abused me and was just an all over bully. He would constantly tear me down and lie to me to the point where I had no idea if anything he ever said was a truth or lie. This cause a lot of anxiety as he could tell me that his mother called me for dinner and when I went, she had never called me at all and when he was telling the truth and I thought he was lying, I'd get in trouble for not listening. He called me all sorts of names and standing up for myself always just made the name calling worse and I didn't want him to know he was getting to me so I made sure I didn't cry in front of him so eventually I just learned to shut up and take it. On the other hand I do have memories of him being kind of nice and buying me candy and letting me play with his stuff and trying to teach me to yo-yo. It made everything all the more confusing. I could go there one day and have candy and play games and have a lot of fun, then the next day I'd get called a p****y every five minutes and yelled at for basically being alive. He sexually abused me no matter what mood he was in though. Towards the end when he was like 15 or 16, he ended up getting his girlfriend pregnant and his family moved away to another part of town so it wasn't as convenient for me to go there anymore. There was also another kid in the neighborhood who used to touch me and have me touch him. He was maybe 3 or 4 years older than me and lived in the same multi-family home as my grandfather who just so happened to live around the block from my babysitters. With him, he started off just as a normal kid playing tag and what not. He was never overtly mean to me and was just like any other friendship I'd had, just a little older. At some point, I guess he was curious or I don't know, but he did start to get sexual. One day we were out back playing in the yard and he told me he wanted to show me something in the garage. His dad had this beat up truck back there and he said we could play in it. We got in and started playing "house". He said we were married and were going on a drive then he "parked the car" and said that if we were going to be married we needed to act like we were married. He said we had to kiss, but not like how kids kiss, we have to kiss like married people (we had to french kiss). He told me to kiss him in the mouth and use my tongue. At this point, what did it matter I was used to being used sexually I didn't even try to protest just did what he asked. The next time I was over he said he wanted to continue the game and this time we had to get naked. He put up the hood of the truck so that no one could walk by to check on us and see us naked. This time I did protest and said that I didn't want to get in trouble if someone saw us. He just kept saying no one would see us and basically wouldn't let me leave til I did what he said. So the shirt went up and pants went down although at least with the babysitter's son, he did all the work and I could mentally go away, this guy wanted me to actively participate. He made me lick his p****s and his behind and he licked my non-existent breasts and between my legs. After some more touching he said I could get dressed and then we went into the truck and he started kissing me again. He only did this again once more and then my great-grandmother died and my grandfather moved to Florida so I never really saw this kid again. To be honest, I think this is the most detail I've ever given regarding these incidents. I was feeling really anxious and angry and worked up prior to writing it down and it helps to write it all down when I feel like that, but it's also emotionally draining and takes forever cause I keep tuning in and out in my mind.
  6. i only need four "what were you thinking?" i've always wanted to know
  7. Hi

    Um...so yea I'm new here, I guess I'm just hoping to find people who will listen and understand