A couple of friends wanted me to start off the story portion of this thread. I agreed because I think it can be good for other members. This has only been shared with one other person privately.
My therapist suggested that I write a book. I started it, but never finished because it was too painful. I know this reads like a story and that’s why.
I learned to be a pleaser. To keep everyone happy so I wouldn’t be punished. I was invisible, well, except to those who needed a victim. My parents, grandparents and aunt and uncle all abused me physically. My uncle was the only one who sexually abused me. My first memory is at the age of 3 with him pulling me from the sand box. I know this because my aunt remembered making the dress for me. We all lived on a farm together.
I was 13 and I was home sick from school and in bed. I was wearing my new yellow pajamas my grandmother gave me for Christmas. He came home from work, used his key to get in the house and found me asleep in my room. He pulled the shirt off of me and grabbed my hair, yanking me up in the bed. He ripped open my pajama shirt and mauled my breast, pinching my nipples and twisting them. “Now, you are old enough to let me show you what love is,” he said. I fought him with everything I had. He hit me in the nose with his fist when I bit him but I didn’t stop. I bit him again and kicked him in the balls. He grabbed my arm and twisted it until it popped.
He ripped off my pants, shredding the material. I ran to my parent’s room and got the gun from their bedside table. When he entered the room, I was trying to load just one bullet in it. He reached for it, twisting it from my hands, breaking three fingers. He hit me in the face with the butt of the gun and broke my jaw. I collapsed from the pain, screaming…He took me back to my bedroom, put me on the bed on my back and raped me, taking my virginity with a hard, painful thrust. He raped me hard and fast for a while, before turning me over on my stomach. He kept pulling me back onto his cock and saying that I wanted it. He came inside me. Then he left.
My father found me, huddled in a corner, wrapped in my bedspread. He stood for a moment and looked at me. “WHO DID THIS?” he yelled. I told him. He leaned down and said, “I’m going to go talk to him and when I come back I am going to have you polygraphed to see if you are lying.” He found my uncle on the tractor, held his 38 to my uncle’s head and asked him. My uncle admitted it.
I don’t remember it, but I guess my dad came back to me and took me upstairs to get cleaned up. I know I went to the hospital and was treated for the broken jaw, arm, fingers and nose. It was listed as a “farm accident”.
I was put in my room and not allowed to leave except to go to school. I didn’t even get to eat with the family. No one spoke or even looked at me. My dad told me that I was a disappointment to them. My mother told me that I never wanted me, never loved me and that I was a disappointment to her.
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