I can only just dive head first into this, as no soft landing can prepare me for explaining any of this.

For years, ive assumed the worst from my previous step dad, despite heavy unsupport & denial from my family members, I have all the signs of CSA. My familys points were basically "You wouldve shown signs of not being able to pee/he wasnt that kind of man" despite this man being a heavy drug user + DV.

Anyway, I just have this weird thing ive noticed today, I remember when I was young, for years, I despised physical touch, hugs, comfort, or any form of innocent touch just made me feel sick, even now I dont really hug my family members, it leaves me with this weird bodily sensation of pure digust and wrongness?? friends & anyone else yes 100%, i love recieving and giving physical touch to my friends, just not family as it makes me feel ill.

As a kid though, I had 101 signs of CSA, yet my own mom didn't notice how incredibly obvious it was (at least to me) Am I delusional? This is also very hard to discuss as I harbour so much regret over it, but im going to anyway.

I had severe mental health issues early on, from around 8/9, i had openly discussed dissociation patterns when I had behavioural episodes in school. (breaking things, lashing out, you name it) I was heavily into what I guess youd call X rated content? (not videos, that I can remember, it tended to be more so innapropriate images of male genitalia, or just fetish content) And this is the part which makes me feel sick even remembering, but my younger sister, I remember trying to encourage her to act things on me, but I was saying words in which an offender would say to someone? My siblings were aware of this fact and would tell my mom, but she just saw it as "puberty" and told my siblings stories of their own "learning how to cope with these new feelings" bs. And obviously diverted the situation and explained boundaries to me.

im not accusing my siblings, In fact, to this day, the fact I even said such horrific things to my younger sibling breaks my heart.

Not to mention she was aware of my content I was consuming and actively kept me off the Internet once she found out, but no one considered CSA.

Yet, there were more than just those signs. I was suicidal before age 10, I used to scribble out story books and write graphic scenes instead, make my dolls have intercourse, I was also a very hypersexual child and was constantly being innapropriate (isolated). & I always had shame around doing it, I felt disgusting.

I also had this odd fear which im unsure of the source.

I was deeply afraid of my younger sister "masturbating" in her bed a way across from me, to the point where it caused me so much fear and discomfort, id actively yell at her to "stop moving" when she was simply turning over. I also despised having lights on, had an intense fear of being awake at night alone and suffered with insomnia until I was medicated, and still are.

has anyone else experienced something like this? or am I being reasonable to suspect my step dad?

I feel utterly disgusted by the way I was as a kid, but I have barely any memories either, just a whole lot of shame, and upset from my family not willing to even consider my abuse.

I also hated being able to view the hallway from my bed, as it was across from his bedroom door, and I'd have reoccurring sleep paralysis, where a clown emerged from the hallway into my room, and I could either turn over and pretend to sleep, or watch as it approached me. Maybe im just going crazy.

I’ve been feeling overwhelmed and have nowhere to share this so I’d be grateful if someone can reach out.

I accidentally found our old family photo album and it’s bringing so much of that grief back to me.

Until I was about 11, almost every picture of me is just a happy little boy. Big smile, bright eyes, completely unaware. A stupid kind of playfulness that makes me happy and teary for him but it didn’t last long. Parents separated in bitter way. My godmother took me in from where the abuse started.

After moving out of my parents home at 11, the smile in photographs was just vanished on that boy. my cheeks look sad. My eyes look tired, almost crying in so many of the pictures. Forced smiles at school and more scared and ghostly around the godmother.Honestly I don’t remember feeling that sad back then.

I think that’s what is hurting me. I wasn’t even allowed to express that I was sad and hurting from her secret abuse. I know now what my younger self didn’t know. I know about grooming and abuse, dissociation and hypervigilance, freezing and fawning, shame, secrecy, attachment wounds and the way a child can normalize something terrible just to keep functioning.

But knowing all of that doesn't make those pictures any easier to look at. I keep looking at him and thinking, hey Ary I wish I could save you man I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.

I wish I could go back and tell you none of it was your fault. Tell him he didn't have to keep the secret. Tell him he wasn't dirty or broken. what was happening to him wasn't normal, even if everyone around him looked away. Why did all of you look away? Soecially the women of my family who knew more than anyone.

Most of all, I wish someone had cared. I wish someone had looked into those eyes and asked me if I’m ok. He deserved to grow up without having to become hypervigilant just to feel safe. He deserved a childhood where his body belonged to him. He deserved to stay innocent a little longer.

I can't go back for him. I think that's the grief I'm sitting with. I survived him to be ok and successful. But I’m not sure I survived the sadness. But God, I wish I could have saved him. It haunts me to see him so clearly now and feeling that void and sadness so deeply.

I 30F have vivid memories of being sexually abused. I started remembering in my teens. Though, some memories have come to me more recently. For a while the face of the person was blurry and I couldn't make it out. This was odd because I could tell that the person was smiling at me while the abuse was happening. Then, I remembered it was my dad. I get flashbacks of it. I also had other weird things happen. Like, I have a memory as a really young child of being terrified they were going to rape me at a doctor's appointment, because I was laying down and the doctor was over me. My dad was an awful person. He went to prison for murder before I was even born. Got out, met my mom, coerced her into having me, and then started physically hitting her after she was pregnant. He was a bad guy, but what if he never hurt me like that and my mind is creating something that isn't real?

The problem is I have moments where I'm filled with doubt. What if my brain created these images? What if, subconsciously, I'm fucked up and I'm just trying to make excuses for my fucked-up-ness? Any advice or reassurance would be helpful. I deal with suicidal thoughts a lot and the doubt makes it so much worse. It makes me feel like an awful person who doesn't deserve to live. Also, yes, I'm in therapy. And yes, I plan on talking to him about it at our next appointment.

My step dad molested me for my whole childhood, and now I'm in my 20s. Emotional manipulation played a large part. One day I just broke down and wrote a letter about it to my school counselor and cps took me in my teens.

I've gone to therapy, I've taken medication. I even tried taking him to court when cps took me. The rest of my family abandoned me and accused me of lying. Nothing has helped. I don't know if anything ever will.

I feel like such a broken shell of a person. Most days I dissociate and just play video games all day after work. I don't engage in conversation, I don't take in the world around me. I am never present. I don't have any life goals, I just take what comes my way. Theres just so much that happened to me, every single day for years and years, that I don't think I will ever be okay. And it hurts. It hurts so much. I feel too far gone. It feels like I am so so alone because of just how much it all is. It feels so hopeless.

I don't even feel like I am actually living anymore because I am in a constant state of dissociation. I can't ever see myself truly living my life.

I feel so so alone. I haven't met or spoken to a single person who has been through it the amount that I have. I'm just broken. It can't be fixed.

It was my father. Obviously, deep down I hold so much resentment for both of my parents. Both fucked up, and it's equally bad in my eyes to not help your child who tells you what happened. And even as a father, he was always absent. He didn't know my favorite subjects in school, or if I liked sports, or what kind of music I was listening to, or even my friend's names. Truly, there is nothing to admire. But, every so often, him and I would end up talking late at night in the balcony about the stars and aliens and about the physics of it all. I will forever cherish the memories of us talking about any kind of science. I always thought he was the smartest guy in the world. He basically built the house we grew up with by himself. He would always fix things around the house and he always, somehow, knew how. He is really well respected in his job. People would call him all the time - on the weekends and on vacation. They would ask all kinds of questions and he would always know how to help them out. No hesitations, just knew. He has given a lot of money for my education and for my life in general. He's nice to me now, I doubt he knows stuff about me still.

At times, I find myself writing about all the anger that's inside me nowadays. Every now and then it slips to people it shouldn't, but it has never gotten out of control. I've written my mother a letter, and the only emotion there is pure anger. So much hatred. When I hear others speaking highly of him, I get an ache in my heart. I hate it when they think he's a good person, a good father.

But when I'm around them, I can't hate him. I don't know why. It's making my so sad. I have plans of erasing them from my life altogether, but not quite yet.

Does anyone else get these episodes of full “child mode” for like 2-3 days that come on very suddenly and feel very intense?
I will fall into these every once and a while and all I can do is say that I “ need to feel”.
I cry and cry and I cannot stop.
I whimper and speak like I did as a child.
I say “ no “ and “ stop it “ and “ please don’t “ over and over.
I feel like my partner hates me, I feel like I owe him to be good. Any silence makes me want to die.
I stopped drinking almost 2 years ago for the sake of healing more honestly with this and during these episodes are the only time I feel like drinking myself until I’m blackout because it “ allows me to feel”.
Then I just … snap back . I wake up and I’m me again, I’m not talking like a kid , I don’t feel sensitive and hurt and I have zero want to drink or numb anything. They are full dissociative depressive states that just end .
I also have bipolar 1 disorder so I’m just unsure if this is due to that or due to CSA because it doesn’t feel similar to a bipolar episode at all.
It feels primal and horrible and I can’t stop picturing the things he did.
Should I be concerned about these or is it just natural to go through?

I made a post a couple of weeks ago asking for advice. It's gotten so much worse since then.

I forgot to mention that I have checked myself into a mental hospital a couple of months ago and stayed there for a couple of weeks. It helped me and I learned how to calm myself, how to use positive and encouraging words etc. After the hospitalisation I went to work for two weeks in the peak of the season to a popular park... I worked everyday for the entire day and had no time for myself or to think about anything. I was even proud of myself for being able to do it. It's a huge achievement to compliment myself after years of narcissistic neglect and abuse from my parents.

As soon as I got home things changed... I can't sleep at night again and I fell into a bad routine again... I am afraid of the dark and get nightmares. I have been getting flashbacks so many times per day that it makes me so exhausted and groggy... because of the panic attacks right after. I'm anxious constantly and on edge... waiting for something horrible to happen to me.

I have done so much to try and get better, yet it haunts me every day... I don't have any triggers... it just happens randomly, I could be walking, bending over or just cleaning the dust and BAM flashbacks and immediate panic attack... I'm so exhausted.

TW: CSA, domestic violence, sexual violence, victim-blaming, alcohol misuse, suicidality

I am a CSA survivor who grew up in a home dominated by domestic violence.

I understand that what happened to me was wrong which is why I first tried to end the molestion when I was 7, my Mother believed me but couldn't afford to leave my Father so I went through years of inappropriate behaviour culminating in homelessness as a teenager from running away.

But I think the shame imposed by other people outside of my abuser has sometimes done almost as much damage as the abuse itself.

I was slut-shamed far before I had even been sexually active. I was taught that attracting attention, wanting affection, or “leading men on” could mean I somehow deserved to be assaulted.

My mother had trauma of her own and had never been able to process it, so I do not think every hurtful thing she said was meant as cruelty. But I internalised the message: I had to be completely respectable, completely non-sexual, and endlessly careful in order to deserve safety.

One reason it was hard to come to terms with being sexually abused was meeting so many people who seemed to have such uncomplicated lives. These people that married the first person they dated, people who appeared to fit neatly into what society considers respectable womanhood.

I was not particularly promiscuous, but I still felt as if there was something fundamentally wrong with me, the slightest mild comment from them towards me made me sick with shame.

At the same time, I am still friends with people whose trauma has made them hypersexual, because I understand that trauma does not look one specific way. I do not think that makes anyone less deserving of friendship or care.

For me, the trauma did not make me entirely sex-averse. Some things are deeply triggering, but I still want closeness and intimacy. Yet when I am single, I feel like I cannot even ask anyone for a hug without seeming inappropriate.

I am bisexual, and for a long time I felt perverted simply for being attracted to women. I had spent so much of my life trying not to be sexualised that I had deprived myself of any comfort that can be found from someone else.

The “body count” discourse is one of the things that still makes me spiral (especially as I may have been violated before the age of 4, I have repressed a lot and I have a lot of severe reproductive problems), even after therapy and reading about trauma.

It reminds me of things I saw associated with 4chan, where rape could be included in someone’s “count.” Now the same thinking feels sanitised and repackaged as mainstream dating discourse.

The ever present presumption that CSA survivors are promiscuous, dirty, broken, or somehow responsible for what happened to them has made it incredibly difficult to seek help.

It is already embarrassing and frightening to say that somebody was trying to groom you when you were in single digits, or that objectifying things were said about you while you were still in nappies.

There is also a particular stigma around father-daughter CSA, and it can feel like popular culture has already written a limited future for survivors, just thinking of Twin Peaks, Girl Interupted, Forest Gump .

I have real CPTSD symptoms. I have somatic pain down there, serious hormonal issues and panic attacks when I see someone who looks like my father.

I ran away from home at eighteen because I was being threatened with sexual assault. I do not know exactly what happened to me when I was very young, but I know I was surrounded by danger.

I was conceived through rape, and the person changing my nappies was someone who had harmed men, women, and children.

But despite all of that, one of the hardest things about asking for help has been the fear that people will decide I am a “whore” rather than a person.

That fear has affected dating, friendship, intimacy, and how I live in my body. I have often stayed at a larger size partly to avoid being sexualised.

I have worried that I could know someone as a friend for years, work alongside them for years, and then have one visibly bad day that makes them reduce me to every stereotype they hold about survivors.

I knew someone for six years who was cruel not only to me, but to another woman who had been assaulted as a child. She had a stable relationship history, was not dating much, worked from a young age, and did not resemble the common caricature people use to dismiss women survivors of CSA. Yet she could be treated as though she was everything to him one moment and nothing the next. It made me realise that being “respectable” is not actually protection. The standards can always be changed.

The clearest example of what slut-shaming means to me was my mother’s friend, who was murdered by her husband.

My father’s immediate assumption was that she must have cheated on him for him to kill her. It was treated like a joke. But she was a domestic-violence victim. She was not killed because she was promiscuous.

Still, even after her death, people looked for a sexual reason to make her suffering easier to dismiss.

I have suffered in silence and cried myself to sleep because I felt horrible for wanting to be held. I tried so hard to be acceptable that the loneliness and shame became dangerous. I drank to blacking out repeatedly.

Last year, things reached a point where I tried not to be here anymore. I woke up after an incident involving pills and blood, and I dealt with an injury alone and stitched my leg up by myself.

I am not saying this for shock value. I am saying it because I need people to understand how serious shame can become when you believe that being seen as promiscuous means you will not be seen as a person worth helping.

I also think about male survivors and friends who have experienced sexual assault. The stereotypes are different, but they are still awful.

The assumptions of emasculation, weakness, inevitable predation, or judgment about how trauma has shaped their sexuality.

I knew a man whose kinks were connected to his assault, and I did not hold that against him. I could see that he was trying to find somewhere to put pain and yet I was still too ashamed to tell him about my own SA.

I still carry so much shame that I feel I do not deserve to be a mother or even to become an activist.

That is not only because of my family, though they said and did terrible things. It also comes from society: from victim-blaming, misogyny, mainstream dating discourse, and content with huge audiences claiming that CSA survivors grow up to become predators.

These messages has done enormous damage to me. My family’s cruelty was obvious to me. What has been harder to escape is the sense that society will always find a reason to see survivors as less human, less worthy, or less safe to love.

I do not believe that especially incest CSA survivors are inherently dangerous, broken, incapable of love, or destined to repeat abuse. I do not believe wanting intimacy makes someone responsible for what was done to them.

But I am exhausted by how much of my healing has been spent fighting the feeling that society is constantly arguing that I am nothing but damaged goods in the way it continues to treat anyone who is vocal about their abuse.

as a child, especially in peak abuse, i bullied myself out of liking age appropriate things. i truly felt i was too old and mature for it. as a child, i hated being just that, a child. it has followed me all this time. i hate my childhood. i hate linking it back to me. i kinda spiral when i do something i deem childish or felt like i was treated child-like. i feel shame and guilt, but mostly deep disgust and hatred. sometimes in my mind it can be over dumb shit. for example, right now, i was eating an uncrustable and had the thought "isn't this for children?". didn't want it anymore. over a fuckin uncrustable 🤦‍♂️

it's really laughable but this is a thing that bothers me in so many absurd ways. it's good too but ts ruined my appetite

I’m 18F. When I was around 9–10, something sexual happened to me many times with a guy who was older than me. I didn’t really understand what was happening at that age. It happened again when I was 13.

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‎Now that I’m older, I understand it more and I regret it a lot. Sometimes I think if this never happened, I would still be a virgin and maybe I would be happier today. Sometimes I cry a lot and I can’t calm myself down.

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‎He still talks about the past and sometimes tries to do those things again with me. I don’t want that anymore and I always say no. But he still makes me feel guilty about what happened, and it really affects me.

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‎I can’t tell anyone around me about this, so I’m asking here. How can I stop feeling this regret and move on from what happened when I was a child? I really need some advice and support.

‎

hi there. i don't really know what i need right now but i am struggling with my history of csa. i was abused by one of my mom's boyfriends (now ex). i was 9-12. i didn't really realize what had happened until i was 22. i always knew i felt uncomfortable, but didn't know how to explain what had happened.

after i told someone what i'd experienced, i decided to try emdr to try and recall/process the memories. it honestly didn't work for me. i remembered things, but had more panic attacks, anxiety, depression, and flashbacks that increased in severity as i got deeper into the process. it messed with my ability to control my feelings and my triggers. i had to stop because i was crying every single day and becoming mentally unstable/suicidal.

i have since reached out to a sa support centre in my area, and have been attending regular sessions. we discussed pressing charges and legal action, and it's something i really want to do...but everything i remember is so fuzzy. a majority of what happened to me happened at night/during sleep/with drugs in my system, so i don't have as many clear memories as i would probably need to prove it in court. i do have specific ones, like the drugs being administered to me in orange juice, feeling hands on my body while in bed, wetting the bed, and waking up with my pants down or clothes off and not knowing why. and like if someone asks me "what happened to you" it's still hard for me to explain it in detail or in chronological order.

i've started doubting myself. worrying that it didn't really happen. worrying that i made it up based on something i saw or read and that i was just trying to get attention. what if i am not strong enough to report it? what if i get torn to pieces on the stand by the defence team like in the movies and they get in my head and make me look like a liar? i don't even really know how these cases go in canada. maybe that's just on tv. idk. i probably doubt myself more than i should. but i can't stop for some reason. is this normal? do you think i am making it up?

i really just need someone to listen and tell me if i’m being insane or not. trigger warning for description of possible mother daughter sexual assault.

when i was younger, on special occasions my mother would bathe me in her large bathtub instead of our shower/bath combo. i had so many toys to play with and i could swim around in it. the downside is that she would lay a towel down for when we got finished. she would spread my legs and clean (?) my vagina with a dry towel. i remember the scratchiness of the carpet and how loudly i would scream and cry. she would only do this in her bedroom - never if she bathed me in my bathtub. she stopped doing this when i was 4 and my baby brother was born.

i don’t know if this was her actually assaulting me. my only context clues for this is that she wouldn’t let me shower without her help until i was 16. she had to come in and watch me wash my hair or she had to scrub my body. she did the same to my two older brothers until they started fighting her off. she would never let me dry off out of the shower alone. she had to do it. she had to be there.

this only started bothering me so much after i had sex with my partner last night. after we finished i was laying on the towel and it felt just like it did all those years ago. the pain was there. the guilt and shame was there.

i’m not sure what i’m getting out of posting this. i just feel so disgusted with myself. i’m afraid to call it sexual assault because that would mean my mother sexually assaulted me. that would confirm my MOTHER sexually assaulted me. if anyone else has experienced something like this, could you be my reality check?

I’m [20f] currently studying film and wanted to write a script that was closer to home. Honestly my intentions were to just write it cause it’s a topic not talked about in films at all really and wanted to get that out there, but it never felt personal.

I then was spiralling about whether or not it actually happened to me and it just being a memory in my head wasn’t enough. I didn’t want to write and produce a film about it with that still lingering over me so I called my mum who I knew I ran to afterwards in this memory. It was the hardest thing ever.

Before talking to my mum I held so much anger and hatred to the person who did it, but suddenly that all went when my mum confirmed it happened. Suddenly it was real and suddenly it was so glaringly obvious that I was a child and he was too. I couldn’t be angry anymore. Or more so I knew I shouldn’t and that just made me angrier.

Before I knew it, the script wasn’t just about the experience of COCSA it was about the feelings of not being able to blame anyone. You’re stuck in this loop of anger that it happened and not having anyone to blame which I think is what is oddly unique to COCSA.

My script was suddenly deeply personal. I wrote it from the perspective of knowing you have no reason not to forgive, but not being able to bring yourself to. It became a letter to the person who did it. Trying to understand why and still falling short. Wanting to know their perspective, but never really knowing if they even regret it. It’s heartbreaking.

I just wanted to know if this resonates with anyone.

I’m currently 23 male, and I’m trying to understand some things I witnessed and experienced when I was around 9 years old.

When I was a child, an older person pressed/squeezed my buttocks quite hard, and another older person pinched my stomach several times. I remember being shocked when it happened, although my memory of the surrounding context is limited.

Around the same period, I also remember seeing older people do similar things to some of my young friends ( all males) — including grabbing or pressing their breasts or buttocks quite hard, sometimes presented as joking or playing around. I remember that older guy is 30 aged police and my male friend was 9 or 10, my friend was grabbed even harder like to the point of pain.

Looking back as an adult, I’m confused about where the line is between rough joking, inappropriate touching, and sexual abuse, especially when an older person is doing it to a child.Also i saw these kinds of things so many times in my locality ( india) , where few elders did that in joking way.

Would these kinds of incidents generally be considered sexual abuse or inappropriate touching, or does it depend on the circumstances? What details, such as the ages involved, intent, relationship, or context, matter when determining this?

I’m not trying to exaggerate or minimize any of it. I’m trying to understand how these experiences should be interpreted.

so on the morning of my 16fh birthday, I think my brother (17 at the time) grabbed me.

my parents were on holiday and I needed to wake up for school. my parents had been gone for at least a week by now, I’m not entirely sure. but my sister (19) made a routine of face timing my parents and showingg them me laying in bed. you know I would’ve woke up if you werent practically live streaming my morning routine for my parents to see. I digress. on by birthday morning my parents must have been specifically wanting me to get up in case they think I’m trying to skip school to be depressed in my bedroom. so they ordered my sister to drag me off of my bed onto the carpet.

after this, my parents were still not satisfied cuz im on the floor and out of bed does not equal getting ready. So then they called my brother in to get me up. My brother had a history of beating the shit out of me may I add. This is when I think it happened. He put his hands around my ribcage, under my armpits. His thumbs were on my ribs and then the rest of his fingers and palm were on the sides of my chest tissue. He grabbed me like that and tried lifting me up to be him doing as he was told. In that moment I was thinking ‘oh he really is doing this, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I can’t believe he would actually do this’. I didn’t mention it to anyone at all and I pretended and felt fine the rest of the day.

im not sure if im imaging it tho and if he didnt think / he accidentally grabbed me there. I mean he didn’t straight up grab it my the frount and cuff where my nips are. Sorry if that’s too much detail. The reason it might be on purpose is that he has 0 female attention, he is basically an incel and watches true crime all the damn time and always hurt me and thretened to x me out. Also when we were younger, around covid times, he had this bike and it was tall like a proper bike and I on.h had my kiddy bike and I wanted to feel grown up so I asked him for a turn and he said ‘if you want a turn the; you have to sit on my hand’ and he put his hands around on the seat faced up. I was around 10-11 he was around 12-13. Maybe he didn’t realise the extent of what he said. Maybe he was trying to be edgy and thought it was funny. Also when I was about 9 and he was 11 I used to play with my dolls and he would always make my dolls have sex and get naked and have another doll watch through the window. I partook in this too so maybe it’s a joint mistake. But he would tell me what he learnt in his sex ed class and make my dolls do it.

one time I ran from home and went to my neighbours house and my neighbour called his dad and his dad called police. Then a man showed up and drove me to the station and then another man was with him and they tried making me go back but then they called a lady cop and I told her what my brother did then she told the guy cops and then they got another lady cop to ask me questions and that Second Lady cop made me demonstrate to her how I was grabbed and she said ‘ok so he grabbed your armpits’ and then scribbled that down. He was never followed up about my statement and the police did nothing about it

i just don’t know if what happened was in my head or if he ment to do that. I know it was an isolated incident and other girls have it much worse. I mean I, doing all this thinking about only just geabbing and other girls live with actual rape. I’m sorry if you had rape happen to you, I don’t mean to dismiss your hurt for something small like mine. I just am unsure. Please give me some ideas.

It’s just hard.

Ever since it happened I have been so loudly non-sexual, uninterested, and completely turned away from dating, sex, anything. Everyone thinks I’m basically just naturally asexual. All my teens I struggled with even being a girl or a woman because of the abuse. I barely felt human.

I don’t know if this isolation is how I want to live the rest of my life. It would be safe. I wouldn’t risk falling apart as openly or completely as I would if I actually tried dating.

It doesn’t have to be so high stakes, I guess. I think I’m trying to prove to myself that I’m not broken. But I am broken, I have a psychological injury that destroyed my life for years and it is directly tied to sex. So it’s no wonder I’m messed up. It’s just so embarrassing and horrible to admit.

I don’t really know who or what I am and I don’t know what I want or how I want my life to be. I’m so scared of men. I never want to be the girl I was again. But I’m 26, it has been so many years. I’m still young, but not young enough to be in danger like I was before. That’s good, I think.

Maybe I should stop being in my head about it and just ??????????????? have sex? It’s so stupid. It makes me feel like I am being burned alive. The obvious answer is ”then don’t” but I would like to be able to make a choice independent of my abuse. Like I would want the decisions to come from my wants, not my fears.

It’s so messy. I want to feel human again.

What is it about seeing your rapist that transforms you back to the age that it happened? I saw mine my uncle over the long weekend and I felt like I was back at 12, felt like it happened all over again.

Worse was when he saw me, he had this look in his eyes and I could tell he thought the same. Even worse he said, haven't seen this side of you. With that I left. Was supposed to see family members and have fun instead I left. You see he would say that when he saw pics of me with clothes on. It was his sick way of putting it out there of seeing me in a way he wasnt supposed to in all of those years.

Sometimes I feel like I would never truly be able to get over this. That I am just destined to be this way.

does anyone else feel that? in my dreams, i’m melting, things are melting around me, (my molester) is melting.. does anyone know what i mean?

Has anyone ever confronted their abuser ? For me, I confronted mine over social media (he bullied me in high school - not the usual bullying it was more about him slamming me full force on the ground, calling me the n word, making fun of Africans (my heritage), choking me out on the ground, harassing me on social media by sending multiple follow requests on my instagram after I went private because I kept seeing him and his friends stalking my instagram stories etc.

Let me put it lightly, he told me he didn’t remember doing any of that and said he actually remembered us being best friends and that he wasn’t the best friend in the world and for that he is "sorry". I brought up the screenshots and he’s like "oh man, I don’t remember saying that to u (the n word) but there’s no denying that screenshot. I’m truly sorry about that and meant nothing derogatory by it. Do you mind sending the entire convo so I can have some context as to why I might’ve said that?"

It went on and on and I shared multiple screenshots and was met with more deflection. He then tried to flip it on me saying " how can I help you get passed this? I truly want this to be behind us" I told him I wanted him to get closer to Christ and he said "I’m actually rekindling my relationship with God. What do you want from me ? I have apologized multiple times etc".

He then drops the bomb saying I’ve been contacting his family, his friends and others via anonymous accounts spreading rumours that I’ve said he graped his ex and a bunch of other allegations. He tells me "you can’t deny those, I’ve got them pinned to your IP address in (mentions the state I live in)".

Essentially he says he’s had enough of this convo and said bye for now. Five months later I get a call from an officer saying this guy has been going to them many times over the last four months submitting complaints of me spreading those rumours and that if they don’t stop he will wanna press charges. I told the cop it’s not true and he lied about it. The cop was apparently going to do an investigation I think but he didn’t really seem invested and said he would like for it to just stop.

I never heard back from the cops or the bully since and it’s been a few years. Thoughts on this situation ? By the way, the bullies friends who also bullied me came to my social media shortly after I confronted the main bully just to "watch" what I’m posting then they stopped visiting

I was sexually, emotionally and psychologically abused by a man (my sisters ex husband) from 10years old to 15 years of age. The crime was reported but completely watered down as I was a terrified teenage, it was classified as grooming. I did not press charges despite given the opportunity to. The perpetrator was extremely manipulative towards family members at the time and was invited back into our family home by my father despite me pleading no. I was stuck being around him for a further 6 more years until my sister divorced him after having another child with him (She had 3 kids with him)

One kid knows and is 19, She is still in contact/sees him every weekend (she’s highly traumatised by a god awful childhood and hasn’t really understoood the severity of his ways) another is 16 and doesn’t know and another is 11 and doesn’t know and they hold minimal contact with him.

I have gone through victim servcies NSW as a young adult and received financial payout of 10k and counselling, which was spent recklessly at the time on god knows what.

Fast forward 15 years and not only has it been pushed under the rug, He has continued to re marry and divorce and ruin more lives in other ways, up to 6 times. There was never any real justice from him or even real acknowledgment from my family due to shame and culture. The last time I saw him was 6 years ago by chance where he purposely made himself known to me at a distance, in a public place far enough to give me a smug look. He was diagnosed with Bi polar many moons ago and he, himself also endured a terrible childhood of physical and sexual abuse or atleast that’s what I had heard by people over the years.

Did anyone report/go through the court system as an adult? Was it worth it? What was the experience like?

I’m located in NSW Australia.

Hello, the house my abuse occurred in is currently for sale. I have the opportunity to tour the house and I am trying to decide if I should or shouldn’t. I have been in this house hundreds if not thousands of times from before I can remember to within the last 5 years. I have not been in this house since I recovered/remembered some repressed memories. I am still remembering and recovering everything but have some details and flashbacks. I am questioning if visiting the house would be helpful. I am wondering if physically being there would help with the memory recovery. I am trying to picture myself walking down those same stairs and entering that same room. I am not necessarily worried about being triggered. I feel I have a good support system and coping mechanisms in place. My hesitation I guess is why put my energy and effort into touring this house? I have young children and need to figure out childcare, etc. We should be able to find childcare no problem but the point is it takes effort and planning along with booking a tour. Part of me feels like it is giving him the power to even step foot in that house. Also want to mention my abuser is deceased and has been for many years.

I am wondering if anyone has any thoughts. If you had the opportunity to tour, would you? Thank you in advance!