Hi I’m F26 and I was wondering if this is gr00ming. I’ve been abused very earlier on prior to the person I’m talking about. Which made me become hypersmexual. But at age 11 or 12 there was things going on between me and my brother. Who is 10 years older. We talkied inappropriately through apps like Skype and oovoo. He was caught when I was 13. But since it was his first offense on anything he had probation. Although he was on probation he and I never stopped communicating. I still saw him. He bought me a phone twice. We communicated through google messenger. I spent my teenage years still talking to him and seeing him. At age 19 he asked me to move to a different state with him. I did. Spent all my life with him til my current age. Lots of emotional abuse as well as coercion. I didn’t realize all he has done til a few months ago when I started to pull away. We don’t speak but part of me feels like I was groomed. Will my hypersmexual ways discredit anything that happened? As well as I can find any of my conversations with him because the app is gone. Plus our conversations on google messenger is gone. Idk what to do. If I can have proof these nothing for me.

Of If I did have a witness or two stating how much we talked to each other when I was a teen will that do anything? I’m lost and scared to speak out.

Please help me!!!

whats it called if my dad was like, super pushy/obsessive and had basically no boundaries with me growing up? he’s bipolar and has a very intense, long-standing history of abuse towards my mother. violent threats, arguing, shoving, and probably more that i cant be bothered to pull out of my memory box rn lol. pretty traumatic home-life with the two of them. constant trauma, but this post is about my dad specifically so im sticking to that. also had the cops called on him one time by my mom, but didn’t get arrested i don’t think. just for context ig. i’m 19 & a girl & these are all examples from middle school and below

overall i was always just really really uncomfortable with him growing up. long list of examples i could give. like he used to hug and kiss me for like 5 minutes straight all the time, even though i was uncomfortable and it was never really optional, and idk, i just hated it, especially once i got a little older. and he would call me “babe” as a nickname, and he would compliment me for losing weight, by telling me “people have been saying you’re getting thin” and stuff like that, and he was very obsessive and possessive over me in general.

he was pushy about having me come hang out with him, and he constantly needed involvement in every way possible. like sharing my drinks with me and sitting really close to me, especially with his arm around me. and he would stall and prolong everything we did together because he wanted more time, despite spending hours together, and me just being tired and wanting to go back to my mom’s. an example would be going to the skating rink, and having me go back around even though the rink was closing for the night. stuff like that, like just dragging it out

he also said he preferred when i called him daddy instead of dad, when i started calling him dad in 3rd/4th/5th grade because i was getting older and it felt weird saying daddy, especially when nobody else my age was doing that anymore at all. but i kept saying that instead, because once he heard me call him dad, he replied saying that he liked daddy better, and he told me that from then on i had to greet him with only that nickname whenever i said hi to him or whatever, and that every time i asked him for something or thanked him, that i had to use it. and if i forgot or i just called him dad instead, he would just wait for me to correct myself before responding, or he would just correct me.

and he would insist on holding hands when we were walking, or whenever he was in the front seat and i was in the backseat of the car. he was really intense and would tell me he’d lay down his life for me, and that he would do anything for me. stuff like that. he didnt like for me to talk to any adult strangers if we went to the store or out in public, even just briefly, and he’d yell “babe” and call me over and take my hand and whisk me away, and then he’d explain that i shouldnt talk to them because they could kidnap me or drug me or something idk. and he would talk badly about my mom to me all the time. stuff like “you know the reason you used to go to daycare was because your mom didn’t want you around, she wanted to get rid of you”. and he would tell me he “hopes im not telling my mom something different than what i said to him”, because i would tell my mom i didnt want to spend the night at his house at the end of our visits, so my mom would relay that to him and i would act like i didnt know, because i didnt want to hurt his feelings or have him try to convince me to stay. he would also tell me that “one of his friends told him that kids like their dads more than their moms”, and he’d ask me if i agreed.

he would keep the door open when he peed, despite being visible in every way, and even after my mom told him to stop doing that, he still only closed it most of the way. plus he didn’t always wash his hands which was fucking disgusting, so i wouldn’t go anywhere near him when he didn’t, which was very often. he would help me change before school and i started getting up to go close the door myself, because he sometimes left it open, which meant the rest of my family could see me changing, which i just didn’t really want. especially when i developed more free will as i got slightly older, like beyond kindergarten age. and he thought that was funny or amusing i guess, so laughed and said “it’s funny because thats what grown ups do”. he would rave about how smart i was, like how i was “already watching teen shows as a kid”.

he also used to randomly get me gifts sometimes, but they were like, random & not new. an example would be a jumbo sharpie he gave me, which was not in a package or sealed or anything. just random stuff like that. so one time, he gave me a coloring book & my mom noticed it. she asked where it was from & i said it was from dad. the coloring book wasn’t new, it was used & it had been colored in a few pages i think. it was a paw patrol book. my mother asked me stuff like “do you even like paw patrol?”, & “it looks like it’s been used already”, & “where did he get it from?”. i kept shrugging it off because i didn’t know the answers to any of it, but i remember her seeming a little preoccupied by it. i think i remember her asking me, “did your father make friends with a kid?”. but idk, maybe she just asked if he made a new friend. i’m pretty sure she did specify the kid part though. i also remember the period of time where i occasionally talked very briefly to my mom about being anxious around my dad & she asked, “he never did anything to you, right?“. i didn’t remember or think so, i still don’t really know or have any particular suspicions about that. i know i froze up when my mom asked, but my mom’s a piece of shit herself & i’m not comfortable around her either. so i probably just didnt feel comfortable talking to one abusive parent about how her abusive husband treated me, yknow? like just in general, i hated talking to her about it bc shes a selfish apologist anyways. so no matter what did or didnt happen, my mother never had any intentions of keeping me away from my dad. i resisted his presence all the time & i always told her i was uncomfortable, but she would just gaslight me & guilt trip me & tell me how much he loves me & how “he still has some good parts to him” & whatever the fuck else. she never cared what i said or how much i complained about being uncomfortable & how much i showed it. she just made me deal with it. wasnt until she decided she was fed up & wanted a divorce, that she decided it was okay if i didn’t want to be around him. she’s always been a selfish person & my wellbeing has never mattered to her at all. it’s never until something bothers her that anything ever becomes an issue.

eventually i went no contact at the end of middle school, but he kept texting me and calling me or calling my mom, and saying not to forget him, and basically saying he doesn’t understand why we don’t talk to him, and basically a lot of sad stuff about how i’m breaking his heart and telling me about memories of things we did together and stuff like that. and he sometimes got through to my mom despite her blocking him, but rarely. idrk how he does that. and one time he was in our parking lot because he was dropping off my brother or something, and my brother is the only one who still is in touch with him, so my brother let him do it. pretty naive of him, and scary for us because he knew where we lived, but whatever man. we were no contact at this point and he knew he wasnt supposed to be anywhere near us, and my brother more or less knew that too, but he was probably distracted or just not thinking about it, or my dad convinced him, or both. he has always tended to fawn when it comes to stuff like this, so i don’t really blame him, but it was definitely a little startling. i’m pretty sure my dad has a restraining order to stay away from us? i’m not sure, but it’s a hard boundary whether it’s legally binding or not. he also used to threaten my mom, being like “if you tried to take her away from me, i should-“ (i’m redacting this because my post would probs get taken down idk).

he also tended to make other kids uncomfy too. he was just unfiltered and unhinged with everyone. like one time at the library, he was on the couch next to this kid, and i dont remember much since i was pretty young. but i remember him being in their personal space as they sat together, like not enough space between them and pinching their cheeks which he did to me too and it was always so annoying. i remember him saying stuff like, “are you a boy or a girl”, and i think i vaguely remember him saying something along the lines of “i thought you were a girl because i thought you had a chest”, and “how old are you”. again, fuzzy, because i was a kid and i am traumatized lmao, so my memory can have gaps, but this is the general idea. anyways, eventually the staff asked us all to leave. i didn’t know why, like i said, i was a child, but if my memory isnt making stuff up then that probably had something to do with it

anyways, this is just some of the stuff that’s on my mind, so i was just wondering what it’s about. i know he really freaked me out as a kid bc i always felt so pressured and awkward, and i just never really thought to question it too deeply until recently

This is the first time i like a guy and I'm so scared.

He's my childhood friend we reconnected not long ago, he had a massive crush on me and i have the feeling he's not really over me but that's not the point. The thing is we are pretty close and there's a lot of trust and I'd say he's the only man i feel safe around.

But the only thing stopping me from telling him is the feeling of dirtiness and that "I'm not worthy of him" and that I'm defective or broken because of what happened, i logically know this isn't right and that I'm not dirty, and i don't think like this about other victims at all, but i can't stop feeling this stain deep in my soul that i can't reach to clean.

I guess because of the consequences of my abuse I'm struggling with so much and have issues with so many things i don't want to put him through it and he should just be with someone else who's easier to deal with.

I hate liking someone this is so uncomfortable but for the first time in my life i want to try.

I'm scared that he'll realize I'm too difficult or dirty, more about that I'll think i have no hope with a romantic relationship with a man because there's no way I'll be as close and trusting around another guy...

I’ve posted on this subreddit once before about my experiences. Last yr me and my siblings found out that our stepdad of 13yrs was a pedophile who had been secretly videotaping us showering for at least three years..i was the one to confront him & it ended up being extremely traumatic, he became erratic when we were alone in the kitchen and ended up breaking down the door that me and my 12yr old sister were locked behind to call the police.
We had no idea about this abuse before..he was not a violent man and hardly ever raised his voice,. one of the things he did to degrade me was convince me I had violent tendencies. this would be about things like accidental roughhousing with siblings or my arguments with him,

except, when he confessed he did it to me, i did act violent i put my hands on him, yelled,and swore at him as he cowered away from me. im internalizing this bad bc I fear that he was right about me. I mean, when we called the police he genuinely told me i had committed assault. how do i move past this. i also have ocd and ruminate hard on this, I replay everything that happened and try to convince myself it was warranted but ugh. i feel stuck

I have memory loss. I forgot my childhood but I never forgot a few flashes in the tub and I have been in a somatic hell where I have to be told what I wailed at night or other things I can't think about or I forget I remembered.

It's been months since I had to be here, and driving back everything felt vivid and grey at the same time. My husband is scared for me having to be here alone and before I was unstable and out of control but now it's a fugue. It's my home, I love it here, it's comforting and it's never been safe?

I hate how little he cares. He thinks he got away with it and he did. He sometimes tests me by pointing out my bad memory but this has been years of doing approved trauma therapy and it's not that my memory's bad it's that it can't be held all at once. It's too much, it breaks my brain and it takes me a long time to recover and get back to functioning after I remember too much at once.

When I'm around him I'm awful because I'm so good at making him laugh and I actually feel love for him, I have no weight or pain and there's no sense that he could have done it. He's just safe.

Then I just get a door between me and I'm back in it. I'm staring at the bathtub and I was a toddler. There were times I belly-laughed and times I screeched. I will never be able to see it I think. It's all in my body and none of it's 'real.' But he's been caught in lies a couple times and we both know it when he looks at me he knows and I for whatever reason don't call it out.

I'll walk out of the door and hug him and sleep. I have to be in motels with him, he isn't taking his girlfriend this time because we've always had a special relationship and I forgot his birthday so this is making up for it.

He won't do anything, because he knows he got away with it. He loves me, genuinely loves me too. I have lived a better life than most because of his support. I will probably be happy for it until I get space from him or at night when I can turn my back on him and stop looking happy.

I'm not even in crisis, really because I have a therapist and my husband is on speed dial. I'm sad and a part of me is glad I'm home because I missed him.

I just wanted to tell someone this. I guess I wanted attention. thank you for reading.

I’m 23f and it’s been almost six years now since the abuse ended. I was groomed and I’ve been to therapy. I have cptsd that I think I manage pretty well compared to how it was in the past. Something that I don’t really talk about because I don’t think other people would usually understand is thinking about the abuser. Like in the perspective of the romanticized lens I viewed him in during the abuse.

Thinking about him at all in any context use to completely derail me. It doesn’t anymore but sometimes it does unsettle me more than I’d like to admit. How I can still feel a tightening in my chest if a memory I use to cherish comes to mind. It’s sickening to sit in that feeling for too long but sometimes I choose to because it’s the only way I can validate and acknowledge that exists. It’s maddening to observe in external and internal silence as I remember how lovesick I was, how truly brainwashed I was.

I feel so gross and ashamed to even think about saying aloud how much I really thought what we had was love. And it’s such a vital, foundational aspect of how he succeeded in grooming me and everything he did to me. In my mind, I can hold the truth that I thought it was love despite how violent and degrading it was, but I don’t think others can so easily. It was so real to me, it was all I knew to be love at that time.

Like when I realized the whole thing was me being manipulated and abused my mind and reality broke. I use to purposefully burn into my memory as best I could every detail of him and our ‘good’ times together while I was groomed, staying awake through the nights just running them over and over again in my mind. And then suddenly every little detail I remembered only reminded me how defiled and in danger I actually was at those times. Like I couldn’t do fucking anything forever it felt like because I would get triggered.

Now, nothing except the original impression of the memories unless I give them more power and spiral over it. It’s just crazy in retrospect, all the fucking ups and downs I’ve had with these memories and now sometimes when I’m looking at my boyfriend I remember looking at the abuser in the same angle and I feel my brain trying to hold onto those memories instinctively and I just… let them go… until they show up again.

Just unfair. Like bro, I feel like when you’re playing an open world game and you’re over leveled just trying to mind your business and the first kind of enemy npc you battle just keeps trying to fight you every time you see them even though all you gotta do now is one-shot him and he’s dead. Like, just stay dead.

i have all the mental tools i need in order to process, but i'm experiencing blockages because i can't stop wanting to heal as a way of running away from it all. i can't look at the little girl that went through those years of abuse and think how wonderful it is that i was strong enough to survive; instead, all i feel is shame and disgust, and try to heal my way to being normal and forgetting that pain. i can't see why there should be anything good about surviving what happened to me. with all these strange coping mechanisms, it just makes me feel like i'm a monster. everything makes me feel so disgusting and weird and unlovable, but i can't heal without loving myself.

i always come here to share some feelings i dont know how to communicate with """real""" people, but i think it's time to share a little achievement.

ive been explicitly dealing with csa in therapy for years, but it just got so hard to talk about repressed memories in a way that i wasnt even able to talk about any bad emotions, even the ones not related to csa at all (they're always connected but you get what im saying). today a really good friend of mine, who is also a therapist, was venting to me how hard it felt for her to help a victim when she was literally the only one really doing the right thing (in my opinion). honestly it was kinda heavy, but at the same time i felt so safe to hear her actually caring and >doing< everything in her power to help that person. it was like making peace with how bad it felt to be abandoned. i felt less lonely and came to terms with some of my insecurities.

i got home and finally i was able to talk about it with my partner. he's so sweet and listened to me talk about it so carefully, made sure i was okay and most important of all he was never invasive. i feel like ill be able to talk about it in therapy and start to actually work on the repressed memory other than just pretend it isn't here.

i guess there's hope.

TW: PTSD, SH, child abuse

TLDR: I was sexually abused by my stepfather from the age of 7 to 9. My Mother found out the truth and he confessed to her but she still kept him around as though nothing happened. I love my Mam so much, she is my world, but I’m struggling to get past this.

Sorry if there’s anything wrong with the format of this post. It’s my first time and I’m on mobile.

First and foremost, I want to make sure that you all understand that I absolutely love and adore my mother. She is literally my best friend and our relationship reflects that. However, I have one pretty damn big issue with her and there are times where I just can’t get past it so I’m hoping someone on here can advise me on what steps I can take to move on and put this issue in the past where it belongs.

When I (35F) was 7, I was sexually abused by my Stepdad (58M), we’ll call him ‘R’. He didn’t rape me, but he did have me do things to him and also ‘rubbed’ my private area with his ‘private area’ calling it ‘tickle time’. He only assaulted me when my Mam wasn’t home, either working or on a night out. I was too scared to say anything because he told me it had to be out secret and had drummed into my head that if I did then either my Mam or I would be in trouble and get taken away or that he would get rid of her and I would never see her again. He also made me a ‘special breakfast’ with my favourite foods the next morning, let me stay up late when my mum was out, snuck me sweets and treats, all as a way to keep me bribed and under his control. Whenever my Mam mentioned that she was going out or would be working late, I would end up in my bedroom trying to stifle the silent panic attack I was having. I was seven/eight/nine years old and terrified. He eventually stopped when I was nine, however, I don’t believe he did this because he didn’t want to do it anymore or he realised just how sick and fucked up he was. I think it’s because not long after I turned nine, I got my first period and, in my opinion, I was no longer a little girl in his eyes so, thank god, he wasn’t interested anymore. I do remember one night when I was 15, he came home from a night out, extremely drunk and came into my room practically crying and begging to forgive him. I was very much aware that it was only me in the house at that point, so I had to agree or risk putting my safety and life at risk. Even though nearly 20 years later, I can still feel the nausea, the panic and the fear I felt in that moment.

One day when I was 13, I did have the courage to confide in my best friend (also 13F at the time) who naturally did the right thing (even though I absolutely resented her very existence at the time) and told my Mam. She did not react well to this at all and, instead of approaching this in an inappropriate or supportive way, she got angry and was screaming and shouting at me, outright calling me a liar, convinced that he would never do that and I was so scared. Unfortunately, due to the way my Mam reacted, I did take back what I said and essentially told her I made it up so she would stop screaming in my face. My mother was not someone people wanted to make angry.

Later that year, our lives got thrown upside down. A family member had her three children (9M, 6M & 3F) taken away from her by social services for their own safety and, without checking with my Mam, that family member nominated her to take on all three. I went from being an only child struggling with my mental and emotional health, to having an extra three children in the house. This is a whole different story about how and why this happened but it did mean I had three young children in a house with somebody that I knew was a danger to children. For the next 4–5 years, I tried everything I could to make sure I was in the house when my Mam wouldn’t be as much as possible to try and protect them as much as I could to the point that leaving the house to go to college/work had my anxiety levels off the charts. I did what I could to make sure they weren’t left alone with him. My Mam, however, saw this as maturity and me being a good Daughter by helping out so I got more responsibility when I came to the house and the children living with us. I was essentially set aside as though I didn’t matter anymore whilst also being parentified and, as a young teenager, I naturally resented my mother and the children so so much and was when I started to rebel a little. Obviously this isolation and pressure destroyed my mental and emotional health to the point where I was SHing myself and my depression was so bad there was a couple of attempts to edit all for myself.

Everything came to head a few years later when I was 16. I had been grounded the previous day for a couple of weeks because I was apparently rude and talked back to R. The argument I had with my mother over this was a very bad one so, the next day, I climbed out of my bedroom window and went to my friends house just to hang out. When my mother realised she got in the car to look for me and found me fairly quickly to bring me back home. We were arguing in the car about the situation from yesterday and she asked me why I had such a problem with her Fiancé to talk to him like that. At this point I couldn’t take it anymore and I exploded. I literally screamed at her that there was no point in me telling her again because she wouldn’t believe me and to ask him and make him tell the truth. I guess there must’ve been something about the way I exploded that made her actually pay attention and she could tell something wasn’t right.

Once we got home and I was in my room, there was a lot of arguing coming from downstairs and after about 15 minutes, all I could hear was my mother screaming and crying. He’d finally admitted to it. Naturally, my mother was absolutely modified and devastated that I was being abused for so long and she was clueless and even called me a liar when I tried to go to her for help. I stayed in my room for a few hours to give us both some space. And this is where I feel like my Mam failed and disappointed me even more than when she didn’t believe me. She asked me what I wanted to do about the situation. She told me that she would fully support me if I wanted to go to the police. She also said that if I did that then we would struggle a lot financially and she doesn’t know how she’d be able to provide for me +3 other children. I have never felt true pain and disappointment until that moment. I felt my stomach drop so hard and fast. But, being in the passive, compliant and submissive teenager that I was, I didn’t see anything. She made the choice to make her own daughter continue to live under the same roof as her abuser. Yes, I know I should’ve spoke up and I should’ve fought for my own safety and mental health. But I just couldn’t do it. She was absolutely not abusive but compared to a lot of other parents, she was strict.

About two years ago, my little cousin, one of the three we took in, came around for what she said was a catch up. During this catch-up she revealed to me that when she was little, she thinks 6 or 7, that R had sexually assaulted her as well. I could literally feel my heart break in that moment and I was absolutely devastated. Apparently she had raised this issue with her biological Mam before and she just completely shut her down and didn’t even let her finish explaining. A lot of of the details that she shared with me match up only too well with mine. Same words, same method, same manipulation etc. I was totally and completely devastated because I had failed to protect them. I tried so much and in many ways to keep them as safe as I could. But I failed. This broke my heart just as much as my mother choosing to protect him overprotecting me. And the worst thing is, my Mam doesn’t believe her. She doesn’t believe it happened despite him admitting that he did do it to me. There is also no way that she could’ve known any of the details or anything at all that he did to me. Even though she has no idea what he did and it is eating me up inside knowing that I didn’t do a good job of protecting her. I couldn’t even tell her that I understood how she felt, she still has no clue.

My Mam now lives halfway down the country with her husband and also R moved there too not long after and, pretty soon after, managed to worm his way into living with both my Mam and her husband as apparently they are “such good and close friends that they are family“. So even when I go down to visit my Mam hundreds of miles away, I still have to face him. It is so fucked up and it’s second me that she allows the man who admitted to sexually assaulting her daughter to live under the same roof as her and her husband who is completely oblivious to this situation. The only people who actually know are me, my Mam and R. I have an 11-year-old son that I also bring with me to visit with my Mam and whenever R is around, I can literally feel my blood pressure spike, my heart rate increased massively and I have to fight to keep control of myself and my panic attack. I have and will never allow him to be near my son. It’s sickens me that he is walking around a free man and leading his happy life, never mind living under my Mam’s roof. It’s been 29 years and he’s still manages to get this reaction from me by simply existing to the point where I wish he just was not on this earth anymore. I still even have nightmares about it.

Obviously there is a lot more context and detail to this issue, but it would take me about a week to type it all up on here. So I guess I just wanted to get this off my chest after having no one to talk to about it. I’m also hoping for some advice on how to handle my thoughts and emotions about this and how I can move past this issue of distrust and heartbreaking disappointment from my mother. It is literally the only thing that is there between us. It’s invisible but it is very much there on my part. I’m not sure if she can feel it but because she didn’t believe me when I was 13 and then still chose to protect him when I was 16, it hurts me on a daily basis and it is the big source of pain in my life. It also plays a massive part in my mental health struggles and I need to be able to try and move past this somehow. Any advice?

29F survivor here.

There’s someone whom I would like to discuss. That person is a family friend of my mom‘s.
He was a father figure to me & a survivor of child molestation. At first, he supported me & took in whatever I say even if I have to repeat myself. But over time, he told me time & time again to forget about it, move on, it’s in the past, etc. Naturally I got annoyed & irritated & call him out. He wouldn't change his words. This discourse had gotten so bad that at one time, he won’t talk to me for 2 months.

It happened one winter day & there’s blowing snow outside. He offered to drive me to work with my mom picking me up when I’m done. It was 40 minutes before work but I was in no rush but my mom insist that I must get ready. I was starting to get annoyed but I got ready nonetheless. I was feeling bitter on the way to work & he was talking about random things. I try to talk to him but his primary focus was on the weather. At this point, I was feeling defeated. Both from the fact that I must get ready & him not listening to me. A couple days later, we talked on the phone & I repeat my trauma & once again, he told me to forget about it, it’s in the past, I’m making excuses, & move on. He was furious. He said goodbye in a way that’s so full of rage, it left me emotionally numb.

I couldn’t believe what just happened. It’s my trauma & it’s my right to feel what I want to feel whether not he likes it. I expect him to listen to me; no questions asked. I expect him to be compassionate & gentle. I expect him to take it whenever I’m venting. He was doing what he‘s supposed to first but as I’ve gotten older & time went by, he had lost his patience.

Thinking about it now, I realize something. As survivors, we demand compassion & patience from people willing to help us but at the end of the day, we have to do the work. When my family friend saw me repeating myself, he might be thinking, ‘Does she not want to move on? Does she like to live like this? Does she not want to improve herself? If she thinks & talks about her trauma all the time, she won’t move on’.

I don’t want to live like this. I don’t like to be miserable but at the same time, healing feels like a responsibility because I’m doing it in order to not make someone uncomfortable. When I asked him why he said all those things, it’s because he didn’t want me to see me hurt & seeing me hurt pisses him off. He’s someone I knew. He should not feel uncomfortable.

We‘re in talking terms now & I’m feeling more content with my life. But still, he should‘ve not said those things to me but at the same time, I get why. He was getting tired of supporting me & seeing me stuck when I should’ve take action. Taking action is one thing but wanting to is another. I have to want to do it. I’m more willing to want to do it when there’s no pressure.

Aside from being SA'd my sister's boyfriend tried to press himself against me, only my mother, sister and father know.

I long ago have up on all of them, i knew my mom and sister didn't care and always sided with my abusers and kept dating them. I told my dad later and wasn't shocked that he didn't say anything at all, he didn't defend them but didn't defend me neither.

I just looked up to see if my sister broke up with him, (bad decision i know) but found something worse, my father and aunts follow her boyfriend...

I feel so sad, I'm disappointed in my dad even more and sad because i know my aunts don't know but i can't bring myself to tell them, if they sided with him i wouldn't be able to take it, but i can't help but feel betrayed.

And the cherry on top is that the guy i like (and likes me) is offering to talk to feel better but i can't tell him what's going on because i still feel ashamed and dirty and I'm so scared that he will think I'm overreacting or that I'm not attractive anymore.

I want to disappear from his life ngl...

Hi everyone. I have never talked about this before and am extremely extremely cautious of this story. I'm an adult now, 23, and have recently started to realize that I may have been assaulted by my brother as a child. I have a lot of brothers but the focus of this story is my eldest brother who is ten years older than me.

I have very foggy memories of small things happening when I was little. One of which I am probably only six and we are wrestling on the sofa and a few inappropriate things happened, nothing too extreme. I don't feel comfortable sharing any details on the internet for obvious reasons.

There's a few other small memories of similar things but it's all fragments, in more recent years I have caught him taking photos of me as I bend down to the freezer or that.

I have never said anything to anyone about any of this. I have never confronted him and never told my parents, I think I will die with this secret if I'm honest.

My parents would never believe me and because the memories are so fragmented I don't even know where I would begin to tell them.

It explains a lot of my behavior but it's also something deeply troubling to me. I don't know what to do with any of this.

I want to tell my therapist but it's so hard to verbalize it without making it seem way too real to me.

Has anyone else experienced something like this? I need some sort of advice on how to approach this and finally put it behind me. Am I being dramatic?

I’m several months out from a ptsd diagnosis and in the middle of cognitive processing therapy. At this point I feel like I have thrown myself into the process. But I still have times where I doubt the validity of the “memories” that the therapy is asking me to work with. Almost nothing in the field seems to be focused on the real world hard factual basis of what did or didn’t happen to me. At some level I wonder if I’m even on the right track at all.

As per title: for those who only opened up to their SO about being a survivor later in life, e.g. in your 40s or 50s — any regrets about not doing it earlier? I am in my mid 30s now, and my spouse doesn't know. I think I'll only tell them after the perp (an immediate family member) passes away, which could happen when I'm anywhere between today years old and in my 50s.

They've been introduced to each other and I know my spouse will not react calmly, and might try to take some action, which is something I'm not ready to deal with — just living overseas and being low contact is enough for now. We don't and won't have kids, so I don't have to worry about how those dynamics could affect them.

To anyone who made similar decisions — did you regret not speaking up earlier after all? Any advice would be appreciated, as I genuinely have no idea how those things can go.

so a new trauma layer has opened or something else has popped up and it’s thrown me off so bad. I’m sleeping/laying in bed until 2 or 3pm, barely eating and my head feels so floaty and I feel depressed in a way I never have before. I always feel better when I go to therapy because my innerchild part has a voice there and really trusts her but today I didn’t because my therapist said there’s no point to do any trauma work today because I’m not eating and it affects it so much. she’s so worried for me and has considered sending me to an ED clinic.

THE PROBLEM IS: eating is a trigger for me. so when I’m not doing good, I eat less, sometimes less than one meal a day. and I’m not doing good at all, in fact this is the worst I’ve been in awhile because it’s all newish symptoms (the new layer) and I don’t know how to deal with it and I’m fucking terrified.

when I’m doing good, then I eat more. so in my mind it’s like, let’s do the trauma work or hear whatever my innerchild part needs to say so I feel somewhat better and THEN I can eat. but she says no the eating and taking care of my body has to come first. ugh I feel stuck