May God bless all of you who have had the strength to accomplish this very difficult task of sharing your story. I am a survivor (I no longer say victim) of the most horrible of violations, the violation of rape. I cannot begin to tell you the times I have looked back at that moment and wished there was something I could have done differently. The times when I would lay down to sleep and wish that all he did to me was a part of a nightmare that I would soon awake from, and the times when I would fight back screams after once again realizing that what happened to me was not a dream. I am not yet ready to be detailed with my story. Hopefully one day I will be ready and strong enough to do so.
All I can say at this time was that I have never experienced a time in my life that was so terrible as that time. My soul was shattered and the peace I had at that time was destroyed, and no matter how many times I tried to wash him away with showers; I could still smell him. I could still hear his voice and feel the weight of his body on top of mine, taking away from me what NO PERSON has a right to take away.
I am now at a place where I no longer blame myself for what happened and I place with blame with whom it belongs....him. Yet, there are times that I know I have not fully embraced my pain because I still fear it.
Next month he stands trial for raping me and every day I wake up I get more terrified and want to withdraw from this case. I know that I cannot because I want my day in court. I want justice for myself and the two women he violated before violating me. Yet I fear opening that very terrible wound again and I wonder if I have the strength to do so. Hopefully in the days to come, I will wake up believing in myself and believing that I have more strength than I give myself credit for. One day, I know I will be free.
Once more, may God bless you all.
by Cindyon 15 Mar 2005
When I was 5 my parents divorced, and my mother got custody. She is and was an alcoholic and a drug addict; she had and will always have these huge drunk parties with all of her drunken friends. These friends of hers were the ones who molested me. They are the kind of men who drink alcohol straight out of the bottle for breakfast lunch and dinner, ride Harleys, have tons of facial hair, the biggest beer bellies you have ever seen before, wear bandanas and sweat a lot. You know who Iím talking about.
The molesting started before the divorce, but once my dad was out of the picture my mom could throw parties whenever she wanted, so thatís when the molesting became very frequent. They would molest me under my motherís nose, it isnít her fault, she trusted these men and thought they were her life-long friends. They would wait until she was good and drunk to start.
I donít remember all of it, just bits and pieces. I remember it started with one man, and although I donít remember the actual first time I was molested, I remember the first time it was by more than one man. I was in my bedroom, and the 1st man just got done ripping my clothes off when two more men entered. I thought they were here to save me at first, but after they walked in and shut the door a dark cloud creped in after them, and I just knew they were here to hurt me too. After that, itís all very blurry, but it continued until I was 12. In the end I had 5 different men molesting me on a regular basis. I never told anyone, they were never punished, and yes, sometimes I still see them.
Then, two weeks after my 13th birthday I was raped by my best friendís older brother. I promised him Iíd have sex with him, I had just moved into that town and I thought he could introduce me to new friends, and that it would be cool. In the middle of having sex with him, I broke down and started screaming to stop, he did. The next day I came over (to see my then best friend, not him) and he raped me. He said I owed it to him.
It is impossible to describe how being raped and molested has changed my life. Nothing I will ever say or do or think will be the same.
I also believe I wouldnít have been raped if I wasnít molested. If I wasnít molested I wouldnít have been so vulnerable in that situation, and wouldnít be so quick to promise him my body.
I have been diagnosed with bulimia, major depression, borderline personality disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety and have been classified as a self mutilator.
All these things, everything that was ever wrong with me has come from my experiences with sexual abuse. My life can never be the same.
Ill never get over this because you canít, itís not something you can ever recover from. I live with this every day and I have flashbacks every day and every single thing I do is affected by these experiences. I donít know how to get through it, and I donít thinks its possible I ever will.
by Lindseyon 13 Mar 2005
I hate Christmas. How many people can say that? I was raped on Christmas Eve. Not just raped, more like brutalized, tortured, sodomized, mentally incapacitated, left a broken toy on Christmas morning. Every Christmas eve my parents have a huge party for friends and family. On December 24 of 2001 part of my life ended. At around 6:30 pm my mom decided we didn't have enough ice to last through the evening. My sister-in-lawís brother offered to go to the store and buy more, however unfamiliar with the area asked if I would take a ride with him. Sensing no danger at all I was happy to get away from the chaos. A half a mile from my house there was a moderate sized wooded area. He pulled over off of the road, and I wasnít thinking anything was wrong at first. Pretty soon things were moving very quickly, faster really then I could comprehend. He got out of the car and pulled me from the passenger seat over the center console and out of the driver side door. My head hit the ground before my feet did. He was dragging me on the ground over sticks and through dirt and leaves. I remember just being cold. I don't know how far into the woods we were but I could no longer see the road or his car. I'm a tough little girl normally but this guy is 6'4 and at least 265 pounds, all muscle. I remember the hissing of his voice saying I was a dirty little girl, at 21 I was hardly a little girl, I remember thinking. It didn't take long for him to start but it took forever for it to stop. I remember thinking he knows my parents will wonder why we aren't back with the ice. After a while I realized he didn't care about the time. He held my legs apart with his. Iím not sure of how many things went inside of me that day. I remember a stick, a small pocket knife, his fingers, and I'm sure plenty of dirt, before he entered me himself. He kept saying horrible things to me, words I still hear in that moment before sleep comes. It wasn't enough for him to violate the front of my body, and he had done the same to the back side of it. This wasn't sex this was an act of pure anger and hatred from someone I had never crossed. The feeling of cold soon turned to numb. Now the numb is in my head. When he was done, I ran, like I had never run before. But I didn't run home. I ran 3 miles to a friendís house. I couldn't tell him what happened but I'm sure the blood running down my legs and the leaves in my hair told him more then I could. I stayed at his house for weeks. I don't know what he told my parents when he went back to the house afterwards, I have never asked. I have never been able to say this out loud, to anyone, I doubt I ever will. My parents assumed I was just being me, I have been known to disappear for short periods of time when life gets too stressful. Since that day I have spent a lot of time chasing people away, I don't feel like I deserve to be loved. While I have had sex with one too many men, it's generally because I want to feel normal, like I can do what normal people do. And afterwards I run like hell because I know itís only a matter of time before the flashbacks set in. I haven't let a man hold me since it happened. I can't. I don't trust anyone. I hate that; it is a terrible lonely feeling. Most people think I am a cold and heartless bitch, but I'm not. I'm just a little girl who is afraid of the dark and woods and being alone. I don't think I'll ever be fixed, I don't think I will ever heal, I don't know if I will ever love or be loved. What I do know is that I want my life back, I want my heart back and I want my power back. So can someone tell me how to get these things? Last summer I got a tattoo of a heart with handcuffs through it, and the words heart breaker. That is my reminder when I think I want to trust someone, I look down to the left side of my chest over my broken heart and there is my badge of lost hope, lost faith, and lost spirit. Some days I irritate myself with my cold disposition. I have recently found a friend that I want to trust and that I want to be honest with and I hope to find the courage to do so. Maybe I I'll just ask him to read this. I don't want to hurt his feelings, and I don't want to lose his trust. I also don't want him to feel sorry for me and I fear that will happen anyway. I have read a lot of the stories on here before I wrote this; I gained courage from you all. I don't feel as alone as I did before I found this site. To conclude this I will tell you I still see this man at every family function and holiday and I probably always will, I would never tell my family; it would rip them apart for sure. So my new friend tells me it is possible to heal and I don't know if that is true for me under the circumstances but I hope it is for all of you.
by Danielleon 13 Mar 2005
When I was ten my neighbor, who was 13, started coming on to me. I noticed that he started getting really friendly, but I thought he just wanted to be friends. It happened slowly. First he told me about a game called ďnervous,Ē I didnít know what it was so I said I wanted to play it, when he asked. He took me into his garage and put his hand on my thigh. He said all I had to do was say ďnervousĒ when I wanted him to stop. I still didnít say anything until he put his hand into my pants. Thatís when I said ďnervousĒ because I understood. Then it was my turn, I did what he said but he never said ďnervous.Ē I said I wanted to stop but he asked me to keep going. Eventually it led to him putting his penis in my mouth. Then one day me and my friend were playing in the yard and he invited us over to help him make a movie. We both wanted to be the director so he said who would give us each a test and then pick. One at a time he took us under his deck where a long board was laid out. There was only enough room to lye down. He said I could be director if I let him touch me and I touched him. I said I didnít know and he said ďtrust me it feels goodĒ and he put his hand down my pants. I told him to stop and he did. Then he took my hand and put it in his pants. Then it was her turn. It didnít stop there. One day he asked me to lift up my shirt. I didnít so he just started touching my chest. He teased me about being flat and after that he would be mad if I hadnít grown. Then one day he said he was making another movie he wanted me to be the girlfriend. I asked what I had to do and he said I just had to have sex with him. I said no and never went over there again. About a year later me and Gabby were in her yard when my neighborís friend Steven came over. He was nice but weird. He would pick us up while he touched us. Later we went inside and talked. That night I found out my neighbor had asked Gabby to lift her top that day we were making the movie. I told her what had happened and we were scared. I avoid both of them now but Iím still nervous. I still donít know if this was a case of sexual abuse.
by confusedon 13 Mar 2005
When I was 9 my cousin started having me touch him and touching me. I never told anyone about it until when I was 14. He continued to do stuff every time I saw him. No matter how spaced out in between each time it never failed, he would do something. Even after I told, he managed to do stuff once. I asked my parents not to report it because I didn't want my family torn apart. Now I don't know if that was the right choice, I was only 14 after all. I never told my parents everything because I knew if I did then they would report it and I was ashamed and didn't want people to know and didn't want the family torn apart. I haven't really dealt with it and have been told to talk to a counselor but I am afraid to because what if they tell someone, like the police or something. It hasn't happened in about 2 years now and so hopefully I will never have to see him again and it will fade.
P.S. I posted anonymously because I am scared to put my name. I know I shouldn't be but I am.
by anonymous on 13 Mar 2005
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This site is offered for support of other survivors, it is not meant to be a substitute for any kind of professional help. I don't have any qualifications or training in therapy, I am by no means a professional. I claim no responsibility for the use of this web site, use of content, or content of any links leading from this site. If you are in a crisis situation I urge you to contact your local rape crisis center or health care professional.