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About this blog
The one thing I have never been able to do is to put my abuse into words. I can say I was incestually abused and raped. I can tell you the effects of it. But to put it in to words is so hard. At 63 I have gone over my childhood very closely and connected some things to the reason all the things happened.v. I was the only girl in a house with ultimately four brothers. I had five brothers, two of which were sick and needed a lot of attention. The assaulter and I were first and third child. The second and fourth were sick . One ultimately died. Then two more were born. The early stages started When I was eight and my brother was 13. It was subtle. He started to become my friend. Little treats ad allowing me into the music room(basement), Then the subtle stuff started happening. Showing me National Geographics, then more advanced Playboy. And now the panic starts. I am shaking and cant breathe. I was gentle touching. nothing invasive. Now I am ten and it begins. One summer day we were in the music room and my brother said he wanted to show me something. It wasn't scary because it was a drum stick and he was a drummer. That is when he raped me. Not gently but with force. He told me he did me a favor because now I didn't have to worry about it. As a teen I found that losing my virginity was a most difficult thing because I was brough up Catholic and no one married non virgins. But there was so much more.. Men seemed to know that something had happened because they started touching me too. Mostly uncles. . I need to stop. I am shaking too much. But I will continue. I will release the last part of its hold on me.