Jump to content
Some browsers are having difficulty with functionality. Please try an alternative browser, if this is happening to you. If you are having connectivity issues beyond this or or need assistance, email us at: aftersilence.moderators@gmail.com! ×

First Abuse


Celia

785 views

Where do I even start?  More of a... oh boy... can I do this, or even start talking about it?  Uhm, okay, I'm doing this... I guess.  Wish me luck!! 😬:shrugs:

 

When I was 7 years old, I lived in Texas (TX, USA) with my family (mother, her bf, sister, and soon-to-be born brother - son of her bf). 

 

Referenced name for all of them:

Mother - mom

Sister - PJ

Mom's Ex-husband (bf at the time in TX) G

Brother - I won't be talking about him at all, so I'll leave his name out.

 

In TX, we all (my family) lived in a townhouse.  You'd walk in and immediately see the stairs, then to the left you can see a small living room then the kitchen to the right of the living room.  I have a very good memory of this place.  I remember cockcroaches, spiders, and ants coming from underneath the back door.  Ah... memories... of me screaming and yelling, "ROACH!!!" and saying, "No, you kill it!" So... I hate bugs... basically anything that crawls.  Dogs and cats are excused, of course.  Although, fyi, I'm a full on cat person, but live with two Siberian Huskies.  Just a fun fact about me... man, they shed so much!! 

 

(Staller!) Okay okay... right.

 

Anyway, if you go upstairs (this I faintly remember), you have to take two lefts to get to the parents bedroom, and you only have to take a left and a small right to PJ and I's room.  The bathroom... don't ask me.  I don't know.  My memory is still coming back, I forgot so much of my childhood.  (I fully blame the abuse.)

 

Okay, this is of what I can remember of CSA (child sexual abuse) 1 with my abuser, or as you guys now know... G.  

 

::::::TRIGGER WARNING STARTS HERE::::::

 

CSA 1 starting - TX, USA - townhouse - mom and G not married - brother not born - I was 7 years old - parents room - remembered at 12 years old

 

G called me into the parents room one day.  I don't know where everyone was, but it was very quiet.  I remember the bed being against the window of the room.  To the right of the bed, against the right wall of the room, was my brother's crib.  (Although, he was not yet born, but everyone was prepared.)

 

When G called me, I came right to the room.  To me, he was a father, he was my dad.  All PJ and I wanted was a dad that would love us and not hurt mom.  A person who reads PJ and I bedtime stories and says, "good night" to us.  He was that person.  He was caring.  I didn't see him hurting mom.  He loved us... (so I thought) and he treated us as his very own loving daughters... (so... I thought).  I was also raised to always listen and do as I was told.  My terrible 2's was dealt with instantly.  The first time I ever rolled my eyes, was the last time I ever rolled my eyes.  The first time I ever hit someone (whether out of defense or not), was the last time I ever hurt someone.  I was raised to always care and never harm anyone, no matter the person I'm with.  Which is why I got beat up for 12 years by PJ because I was scared to fight back and see her hurt.  Ha... I have scars to prove it, she was raised differently for sure, despite us not being that far apart in age.  Yes... my little sister kicked my butt.  I'm very naive.

 

Also, a fyi, G was an active duty police officer at this moment.  Like, uhm, the whole "serve and protect" sh*t, that stuff.  Another reason I may (or may not) despise any military person or veteran.  You guys can learn about that later.  

 

Right... stalling.  I was lightening the mood.  I think we both needed that, as we know pretty much where this abuse is leading.

 

I remember just as I walked in, he was lying down on the bed.  He said, "come here," as he patted the end of the bed (between his feet).  I remember slowly walking over to the bed, but never thinking anything bad.  I was confident that all was fine.  Maybe he just wanted another foot massage!!  No problem at all.  After I walked over and came onto the bed between his feet, which was more so between the legs (if I'm being honest here)... he pulled down his underwear a bit (thighs), grabbed his d***, and said, "suck it."  At this point, I remember being slightly confused.  I've never seen that before, I've never been told to do that before, heck... I didn't even know about that before!!  He said, "suck it" again as I froze, just staring.  Despite being as confused and worried as I was, I still got closer and did as he said.  I remember my head being so close to his body, near an area I've never even seen before.  My mouth... I remember being so confused by everything, why I was doing what I was, if it was even okay, the taste, the... everything.  My eyes just trailed off and only one thing I stared at that entire time, was the crib to the right of the bed.  Gray brims will blue on it.  Small, not big, but very well padded crib.  Right on the side.  A little stand next to it, but not close cause there was a sharp edge.  

 

CSA 1 over - of what I remember.  To this day, I still try to see if I could remember what happened next.  I don't know if he finished, if more happened, if there was touching, anymore talking... I don't know.  I want to know, honestly.  It's going to hurt when I do know, but... I'll take the pain if that means I at least know what all happened to me.

 

->-<-NO MORE TRIGGER->-<-

 

CSA 2 starting - this was at the next house in North Carolina (NC, USA).  We all lived in a trailer, small little trailer that was three bedrooms.  Had a basketball hoop out back, bicycles, and had two friends down the road.  Let me paint you a picture of the house.  

 

You walk through the front door.  You are now at an empty area.  To your left is the door to the parents room.  Directly in front of you is the living room and if you walk straight through that room (right across from the front door - on the other side of the inside of the house), is the backdoor.  This backdoor slides, but there is also another backdoor that is through the kitchen.  If you are standing at the front door and walk straight forward to the living room then stop, the kitchen is to the left.  There is no door, it's just an open door way.  Now, still standing at the living room, there is a hallway to the right.  If you stand at the front beginning of that hallway, you will see the door to PJ and I's room directly at the end of the hallway.  My brother's room is the door to the right of the hallway.  To the left of the hallway is a closet and the bathroom.  Yes... I remember this entire house.  I experienced three SA incidents at this house.

 

At this point, G was not in the military anymore.  He was let off due to lot of pain, also... I think he just decided to leave.  I'm not sure.  He receives veteran benefits now though due to back pain from the army.

 

So, CSA 2 - same abuser - in NC, USA - trailer - brother born - I was 8 years old - G no longer in military, instead, is now a (mostly full-time) gamer - remembered at 12 years old

 

::::::TRIGGER WARNING STARTS HERE::::::

 

This memory is very much alike my first CSA incident, although, it played out differently.  I think because he knew I would know what's up.  I believe by the time this happened, I had no memory of my first abuse incident.  It was buried into my unconcious, for my safety, I suppose.

 

No one was home.  I believe if my brother was home, he was sound asleep in his room.  Mom and PJ though, I had no clue where they were.

 

Okay, let's see if I can type this without stopping.  I had to stop a lot while typing the other incident.

 

G called me into the parents room.  I walked in and he was, of course, lying on the bed.  The bed was located in the middle of the room, with walking area around both sides of the bed.  In front of the bed (to my left) was a balck TV stand/shelf with a TV on top.  The shelf was fairly clean with only a baby oil bottle, pink labels. 

 

As walking in, he asked me if I could give him a foot massage.  Which, is nothing, I've done it before as well as for mom.  So, I sat down on my knees at the end of the bed and starting rubbing (I hate that word so much!) massaging... I started massaging his left foot (his right - if looking from his eyes).  He asked, "Can you use the baby oil?"  I think I either nodded or just didn't respond, but I turned around behind me to the black TV stand and grabbed the baby oil (pink top) from off the right side of the top shelf.  I poured a little bit onto my hands and started massaging his left foot again.  After about a minute, he then asked me to do his other foot and I started massaging that foot.  I remember going up and down, doing the toes, squeezing the middle, then to the heal.  After massaging another minute, he asked me to massage his legs (lower part - not the thigh).  At this point, I was confused because I had never done that, not even to mom.  So, I was very confused, but figured "okay" and did it anyway.  After all, it was just a simple massage, right?  Yea.  I massaged his left leg for a bit then he asked me to do his thigh. 

 

Now... the leg caught me off guard, but the thigh... that was very new as well.  I was officially worried and I even froze a bit.  Although, I did it anyway.  I massaged his left thigh.  Barely even 10 seconds, he was pulling out his d*** and he said, "Rub this."  ...Okay, hold the phone... first, the leg, then the thigh... then that!!  I don't even want to remember what I was thinking at that time, and thankfully, I don't remember.  Although, I do remember freezing and being scared as heck.  I'm curious whether I remembered my first abuse incident at that time, then I forgot it all over again.  I don't know.  I remember being scared though.  Take the "not remembering what I was thinking at that time" back.  I remember some.  I remember thinking and wondering if what I was about to do was okay.

 

After freezing for what felt like forever, I positioned myself onto the bed, between his legs, and started ru... okay, now I know why I hate that word.  He used it... got it.  After massaging what he told me to, going (ulgh, I want to vomit) up and down for about 2 minutes, he said, "now suck it" very forcibly.  As you can imagine... I froze.  I was terrified.  I was scared.  I think I even wanted to cry.  I was worried.  I was frightened.  I was confused.  At that time, I felt like everything was wrong, nothing was okay, none of that was okay, that was bad, and I didn't know what to do.  As I stared down (either at his face, or where my hands were) he said a bit more between his teeth, "suck it."  I just looked at him and then I did it.  The same thing from CSA 1.  I did it.  I remember possibly trying to pull my head up as both of his hands went on top of my head and held me down.  His feet/legs wrapped around my body and stayed squeezed tight around me as I was s*cking.  

 

I feel sick. :wacko::sneeze:

 

CSA 2 over - of what I remember.  I don't know how it ended, just like CSA 1.  I don't know what happened after, I don't know if he finished, I don't know anything that happened after.

 

Oh, and I failed.  I stopped multiple times during that.  Some words were really hard to type or even get out.  I swear I looked for substituted words.

 

Now, the rest of my abuse memories, I only remember parts of them, so, bear with me.  I feel they could be seperate memories, seperate incidents, but they could also be within some of the other incidents, and my mind just hasn't glued the pieces together yet.  We'll keep them seperate for now.  I'll call them PSI-CSA 1 and PSI-CSA 2.  PSI --> Possible Seperate Incident

 

PSI-CSA 1 starting - same abuser - NC, USA - trailer - parents bedroom - G and mom married - 8 or 9 years old - remembered July or August, 2020 (I was 17 years old)

 

This memory was triggered after telling the abuse memories (above) to two detectives (a female and a male), as well as, to a psychologist (?).  Someone at a children's sexual assault clinic that had to know everything to stand by and help at court (if summoned).  Also, who had to do (specific) check ups to make sure all was well (physically/"sexually" speaking).

 

Okay, the abuse.  I was in the parents room and I remember walking out of the room, just slightly past the door.  I was walking very slowly.  I walked about two steps out the bedroom door and started crying.  My face was red, my arms were crossed, hugging myself.  I was crying, yelling, and screaming, "MOM!!" over and over.  I started crying even more as there was no response and I started shaking really badly.  I think I was either in shorts, or wearing nothing.  I was shivering from not being cold, but from panicking and being so scared.  I kept screaming for mom and crying, tears streaming down my face.  My eyes were so blurry, I could barely see anything, yet I stilled looked around, but not moving.  I looked at the empty space by the wall to the right of the front door, I scanned the living room, the couch, the TV, the backdoor, then my eyes made it part of the kitchen and I just stood (still at the bedroom door) and cried.  Eventually, I fell to the floor and shriveled myself up into a little ball with my arms wrapped around my knees and I continued crying for... I don't know how long.  

 

PSI-CSA 1 over.

 

::::::TRIGGER WARNING - just a reminder::::::

 

PSI-CSA 2 starting - same abuser - NC, USA - trailer - a bed - G and mom married - 8 or 9 years old - 18 years old - remembered two nights ago (April 11th, 2021) 

 

This memory was triggered by Mark (mom's bf for the last 6 years).  It was night time and I was putting togethers a Jurassic world lego set that my brother got for his 9th birthday while mom was putting together a Raya lego set and PJ was putting together the small Jurassic world lego set.  My brother was on the couch playing with the lego dinosaurs and characters we gave him that were completed and Mark was on his phone while sitting on the other end of the couch (furthest from me).  I was sitting almost close to a wall while putting things together and mom was to the front by about two feet and to the right about a foot.  Mark got up to show mom something funny on his phone and to do so, he sat almost directly in front of me.  His bottom... what's a good word for that?  Butt... a**... buttock... bottom... I'll stick with "bottom."  Sounds more innocent/less disgusting and clean.  Anyway, it was almost directly in my face.  I was actually like, "don't look, don't be scared, he's not going to hurt you, just keep your eyes down, you're putting together legos... focus on that, just focus on that."  I was sort of able to.  I may have looked once to see how close he was, but that hit me even after not looking again.  My next thoughts/urge was to shove him away from me.  That very much triggered my memory of which I'm about to tell you.  That night... I told mom I was tired and asked her if she could complete the lego set I was doing as she was already done with the Raya set.  She said, "sure" and I headed off to the bathroom crying as heck.  I eventually just fell to the floor and balled.  I couldn't move, I was shaking so much and whenever I tried to grasp the counter to stand back up, I shook so badly that I collapsed.  I'm surprised no one caught me at that point, especially as Mark went back to the parents room which is right by the bathroom I was in.

 

Now, that's not the memory, that's just how it was triggered.  So, I'll stop that there.  That was a very bad 3 hours of my night that I don't want to remember right now and, hopefully, never again.

 

The memory... I was sitting on a bed.  My left leg was under me, I was sitting on it, while my right leg was bent and to my side kind of out.  G was sitting on both his legs directly in front of me.  He had both his hands out reaching towards me, outlining the underneath brim of the neck clothing part of my t-shirt, then touching part of my shoulder gently and then my collar bone.  I remember pushing/shoving his hands away from me immediately and I felt very scared and angry.  I must've been through some sort of abuse by him before this happened cause in my memory, I feel so angry at him like I remember him already doing something.  I feel so much hatred like I wanted to punch him so badly.  After I shoved his hands back, towards his body, he grabbed my wrists, jurked them down, then started reaching towards me again.  I don't remember what happened after that point.

 

PSI-CSA 2 over.

 

->-<-NO MORE TRIGGER->-<-

 

That is everything according to what G did to me.  I'm sure that I'll remember more at some point as there are literally triggers everywhere, even at home with me.  So, there might be more to read, but who knows.  I am pretty shocked and frustrated that I don't remember the ending to all of my memories.  One of them, I remember the ending, but not the beginning.  Which is very... how to phrase it... annoying, irritating, aggrivating, and frustrating me.  I want to know what happened from beginning to end of all the memories.  I want to remember everything now, so I can officially start healing.  Until then, I can heal, but I won't truly heal as more and more will be brought up over time.

 

Anyway, thank you so much for reading!!  This was actually really hard for me to do and something some people have been trying to make me do for some time now.  It's about time I've done it.  I do have more abuse incidents, but they were not from G.  I'll write those out some other time.  The ones from G were the most triggering and harming ones for me as he was a father that I loved so so much and thought he was the most special, amazing dad in the world and there was no I would love more.  Well, turns out I was wrong in both those cases, huh?  Yea.

 

Thanks for reading again!!  Hugs are welcomed, sitters too!!

 

I actually just found out about a week ago that what I experienced was oral rape.  Took me years to find that out!!  I was actually quite shocked and sort of hurt once I found it was oral rape.  I guess that just made me feel worse about the situation... not sure why, but it's good to know!!  I suppose, heh.

Edited by Celia

2 Comments


Recommended Comments

Hey Celia! I was at a lost with my thoughts the day I checked out this website for the first time. I was having memories of CSA from family members, mostly. Your story was the first I've seen and it felt familiar. My heart was racing reading this. Not only that but memories that I debunked and told myself were just nightmares appeared more clearly. I rushed to make an account just to reply and let you know you aren't alone, especially when it comes to memory. I'm actually writing this message ahead of time as you have to wait before your account is approved but I'm so glad you shared this. Not only does it benefit you, but it benefited me telling your story. 

 

I've searched everywhere to see if what I went through was valid or if I was making it all up. You can have people you love (like my mom to me) tell you that it's all lies and not real that you start to become your own disbeliever. I've also found out a few months ago about oral rape. I had breakdown because it was a form of validation, yet, I wished none of it never happened. 

 

I've never talked about my abuse in real life or reported it due to it being from the hands of close family members that are still close, but that feeling of telling someone is replaced by hearing other stories that reflect mine. I'm sorry you had to go through that. Dads are supposed to be loving, caring, supportive, and actual fathers. No one deserves to be touched, especially in their childhood. No matter how much the abuser/s could mean to you or is/was supposed to big part in your life and growing up, their actions are not justifiable. The way you wrote so boldy about your story really filled me with hope. I don't know if you need to hear this but you are doing great. Recovery isn't easy, repressed memories are like relapses, but I wish you a smooth recovery. I believe you and support you. Thank you Celia,

Cynthia ❤️

Link to comment

@CynthiaT Hello, Cynthia.  I am so sorry to hear that you've also been through CSA.  It is so unfortunate and upsetting that anyone has to go through that, of any kind.  It truly breaks my heart and changes my view of society in a bad way.

I am very glad to hear that you signed up for this website as it is a very helpful and supportive place to share amongst other CSA and SA survivors.  I don't whether to be happy or upset that my story was the first you read, as it's not much of a happy story, heh.  Although, I'm glad it has very much given you hope and a feeling that you're not alone.  Thank you for making me not feel alone.  I deeply appreciate it.  Other than a couple people I talk to, I've been pretty alone with my memories and trauma.  I guess that's because I've given up on speaking to people for help or even support and still have.  As you can tell, heh, my blogs have been pretty quiet.  Again, I'm glad it benefited you.  That does make me happy. 

I completely understand how you feel from what you say in the second paragraph.  I had never realized that what I experienced was oral rape and it just tore me up, for a good few days actually.  It really hurt.  Telling the cops and coming out about everything was also really hard for me because it meant everything was real and serious.  I'll be honest.  I have these memories, yes, but... I feel like I'm making them all up and some how my screwed up mind created these memories some how and I don't know, I get angry at myself and mad, wondering, "are these even real?!"

In the case of not telling the cops and reading other stories helps as a replacement, that is honestly better than nothing.  I'm glad that you're here and reaching out for support, as that is a very important step to make.  And yes, dad's are supposed to be caring and loving.  At least, that's a wish.  That's far beyond my imagination now.  I see any good dad's or Mark (my mother's bf) acting like a good dad, I freak out and wonder what he's plotting and when he's going to harm someone. 

It took me a while to write the story, but I got it out.  One step at a time, always remember that.  Thank you for the compliment.  I'm trying, heh.  And thank you for believing and supporting me.  I very much appreciate it.  

Again, welcome to AS and I hope that reading others stories will soon give you the courage and strength to share about your CSA memories.  I know, to an extent, it did for me.

Link to comment

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
×
×
  • Create New...