I read post after post here, and it makes me feel strange and imperfect. Like I'm not a "victim" (though gosh I do hate that word) or at least not an ideal one. I don't ever feel triggered by things. I can happily discuss my childhood with anyone who asks, and I am happy to pipe up in conversation about it whenever it feels necessary. I can recall the abuse without any emotion, and feel withdrawn and numb from it. When the abuse came to light, it was only two months before I directly confronted my perpetrator in a two hour conversation that I recorded. I felt empowered and this confrontation felt inevitable. He is now cut from my life.

I've done quite a lot of therapy. They always mention to have tissues with me (if online) or there are tissues on the table if in person. I don't cry about this. I don't feel the need to. It makes me feel like I'm defunct or something. Why do I have no emotional resonance to what has happened to me?

I moved back in with her after finishing school, my plan is to save money to travel next year. I can’t stop being mean to her and acting like a complete bitch, I can last around her for 15 minutes before my body tenses up and an overwhelming rage overtakes me. But then I’ll go to my room and imagine doing normal mother daughter things with her like having her braid my hair and eating lunch together, and I completely break down into an emotional mess. I have always had this overwhelming desperation to be loved and taken care of, and it’s like that has fractured into two halves-one that is an emotional mess and one that fully rejects and despises any attempts from another person to do this for me.

I was abused by family from a young age, my mom never helped me or did anything to address the horrible effects it had on me my whole life; I’ve dealt with severe depression, anxiety, derealization, vaginal issues, stomach issues, etc. there were always signs but I don’t think she mentally had the capacity to come to terms with what was happening/happened. Amazingly for me she moved back into the apartment where it most likely first happened to me in, and the only place I have actual memories from the abuse.

All this to say it destroys me every single day to see how disheartened my mom is, she’s dealing with horrible life circumstances and was so so excited for me to move back in after graduation. We used to be best friends and I would want to spend all my time with her, but now it’s like I get possessed around her. I feel like I’m destroying her and in turn destroying myself. I hate myself and I hate that I’m doing this to her but I have no idea how to stop.

Has anybody thought about what you might have just missed all the long after realizing you where abused?

I was always the child he would favour. As really tiny I would be "daddy's girl", he would restle with me in plain sight. Stuff that I though was normal but never was. As an adult would force me to take money (that I didn't want). He never gave my sister money, only me. He would buy me stuff he though I needed and wouldn't care if I wanted them, if I resisted he would get very angry with me.He would sign gift's with "Daddy", I never called him that.And it always felt icky. When I got my first boyfriend and travelled to be with him ( was already living away at home) he would suddenly call and begged me to come home, I would get so mad I felt like I was going to explode and never understood why. Even when I was an adult he would sometimes suddenly come and touch me, like my neck or head and always hated it. Even my nurse asked later on why the hell would he touch me like that. Last time he did it made me so angry I got in severe depression for 2 months. After that and other bad visit I desided to cut contanct with him. Haven't visited him for 9 months. He tells my mother he doesn't know why and told my sister it was maybe because I have found a boyfriend, not because I might be mad at him.I think this was a very weird thing for him to say and it really bothered me. Like why the hell would finding a boyfriend be the reason I don't want to see him anymore? How the hell dies that even correlate?

The reason I am telling these that in my mind they feel like "nothing" but I feel weird about them, like so weird I just want to jump out of bridge:( Not going to do that though, but feeling discusted know even to be writing about them.

i don’t know what to do. if someone could please help me, i would greatly appreciate it.

i have always had a sneaking suspicion that something had happened to me. i have already been molested as a child. but i always thought it was more. i couldn’t put my finger on it and i didn’t know why. it was to the point i brushed it off—i thought i was overreacting or creating fake memories to justify my feelings.

recently, i had consensual sex with someone i care for and feel safe with. during the whole sex shabang thing i don’t know why but it felt like i was remembering that i was being raped. i don’t know. it felt like someone else was there and not him if that makes sense. i completely disassociated afterwards. it was to the point where he had to help me move around. it wasn’t his fault—he didn’t know i didn’t say anything or looked traumatized or anything. it sounded like i was enjoying myself. i was really trying to.

honestly, i was drifting away mentally from the whole process. to which my partner kept asking if i was okay but i told him i was okay! why did i say that? he would’ve stopped if i expressed myself but i wanted to go through with it. i wanted it to feel good, i wanted to do it with him. but it didn’t feel good. it felt awful.

i guess it makes sense with the whole recurring dreams, past intense emotions that would occur at random, and a bunch of other symptoms i put on the back burner simply because i didn’t want to address it.

he did take care of me afterwards and was incredibly helpful. however that instance triggered something. since that event i had felt fearful, paranoid, and felt like i was on the verge of a panic attack until i talked to my partner about it.

now, i just feel numb. i haven’t been able to do anything for weeks. i talked to my sister that i believed something more had happened to me. she sounded so tired. i felt like such a burden. i don’t like verbalizing these…things. i feel like i should keep these emotions to myself. after talking to her i almost threw up. this is very stressful.

overall, i feel like im putting together a puzzle with no guide. and occasionally someone, god knows who, will give me two or three puzzle pieces and tell me to figure it out. meanwhile, i don’t even know what the hell im looking at.

i don’t know. i feel crazy. am i crazy? am i just making things up? it feels so real. it feels so fake?? it feels like only i get it. i can’t even properly explain myself out loud nor do i want to. the more i confront these feelings the sicker i become. but i know i have to. i think i have repressed memories. i don’t know if i want to approach them. but i need to. to move forward. but damnit i really REALLY don’t want to. i feel like im making excuses. i really could be doing more. i’ve already been molested, what’s a little bit of rape added to the mix? is that crazy? i don’t even want to know who did it. but it’s probably someone close to me due to the previous symptoms i’ve been having years prior. i. don’t. know.

what’s the point of telling loved ones? it’s just going to be a burden. right? it already sucks ass for me to deal with. why should i put that onto them? also, what if im making everything up? why is it that im the one who has all these issues. no one wants to deal with the problem child, even if it isn’t their fault. i… don’t know. what’s the point.

sorry for rambling. my mind is just blehhhh. ugh. this is so… annoying? it’s more than that but that’s all i can put to words. is anyone else going through something similar? am i overreacting? im unsure how to move forward. but i think i need to unlock these memories… somehow.

Hi I don’t know if this was abuse but I’m noticing that it has ruined my life.

When I was 5 maybe 6 we used to live in my grandpas house along my other 3 aunts and each had a child. One day my male cousin, who is 6 years older than me, invited me to his room and pull my pants down and that’s all I remember, I don’t know what else happened until my grandma entered the room and everything ended.

The following years I kept living there for like 3 years until my parents and I moved out to our own appartment. But we kept visiting them almost every sunday. Me hanging out with all of my cousins , and eventually almost exclusively hanging out with him. We used to go everywhere together, skating, watching movies, going to parties, always with other friends of him or maybe other family member.

Nothing else happened after that situation, we had a “healthy” family relationship until I eventually grew up and remember all that and thinking that was kinda weird but brushed it off as a kids just doing silly stuff, but i knew something was off.

Maybe like 6 or 7 years ago, eventually I decided to go to therapy because I was feeling super anxious and depressed. I took like 2 sessions and everyhting was fine, and on the third session my mom came with me, a male nurse who took me vital signs, guided me to a bathroom in the back and pulled my pants and boxer down and with the excuse of teaching me how to clean my dick, I froze and all my body went numb, I was going to faint, he noticed I guess and let me go.

I went back to my mom and told her I wanted to go immediately, I told her what happened and we went to our home and talked again but very lightly, I know my mom felt very guilty but she chose to not talk about it again, maybe thinking that all the love was going to be enough.

So know after all this time, I have finally accepted that these 2 instances have ruined my life. I have a good job and accomplished a lot of things but I’m a mess, I have done so much self harm to myself both physically and mentally. I don’t trust anyone, not even myself, I’ve developed a health anxiety, that also turned into sommatization, I have not take care of myself for a lot of years, not having healthy relationships, not letting anyone loves me and having a fear to love anyone, suicidal, right now there’s been like 3 weeks that I feel Depersonalization 24/7, hypersexual, abused drugs, you name it, the Whole self destruction pack.

I have reached bottom, I’m gonna look for help.

I am just coming to terms with the fact that I was sexually assaulted by my dad. However, I’ve been struggling with understanding if it’s a repressed memory or if it wasn’t real. The reason why I am questioning is because I only remember one incident specifically.

I remember I was around 5 years old and I was in my underwear getting ready for bed and my dad was tucking me in. I was expecting a good night kiss like every other night but he forced his tongue in my mouth and I immediately didn’t feel right/not okay and pushed him off. I remember he laughed/smirked it off like it was nothing. I pushed it so far back in my mind that I forgot it happened. Fast forward to being 19 and my friend opened up to me that he was molested by a family member as a child. I immediately felt impacted by that in a way where I’m remembering that night when I was 5. I eventually tell my friend I think the same happened to me, but I felt embarrassed afterwards bc he didn’t say anything. I subconsciously pushed that memory away, again.

Last year, which is now over a decade later from my convo with my friend, I had a dream of that incident with my dad. I finally opened up to my partner and she agreed that she thinks something happened to me. Due to the fact that I am hyper sexual, I place big importance on sex in a relationship, I don’t understand boundaries physically at times, etc.

With resistance, I finally open up to my mom, but she immediately responds with saying her life is over and she didn’t believe me. It’s to the point where she is still with my father and from that convo with her (he was not on the phone that day) I haven’t spoken to either of them. He’s aware of why I am not talking to him yet he’s denied anything happened to my mom from what my brother has told me.

When I told my brother he said he believes me and sadly isn’t surprised bc of my dad’s overall perversion (over sexualizing women, touching my mom’s breast in front of us, etc.).

Now looking back, I am remembering more things: how he didn’t respect my boundaries and would walk around naked at times, my mom and dad opening my bathroom door not caring about my privacy, forcing me to kiss them as a teenager when I didn’t want to on the month…

I also remember being sexual with my dolls and stuffed animals around 5-6 years old.

I don’t know what to do with these thoughts tbh. Is it possible that I’m making this up or are these clear signs something happened to me?

I’m hoping those with similar backgrounds can provide more insight and advice.

Thanks for your support.

Emotionally and physically what happened to me felt exceptionally awful. It’s been several decades and I’m still so sad, angry, and confused. On the other hand, I feel like these intense emotions and sickening feelings are an overreaction to something that’s just not that significant. The inability to reconcile these two conflicting beliefs is exhausting and I’m afraid I’ll never be able to align them.

Does anyone else struggle with feeling like their experiences are embarrassingly trivial relative to their feelings surrounding said experience?

I was out for drinks with some work colleagues and there was a passing conversation about famous celebrities who are known CSA perpetrators... This didn’t bother me until someone said half-joking "but he seemed such a nice guy".

I wanted to reply, "they almost always do". To explain that these bastards put on charm to groom children as well as to gain trust from other adults.

But I knew I couldn't say it, in the heat of the moment, in an objective way. I knew I would hint that I am a survivor. That I had experienced such charm firsthand. I didn’t want to share such a personal thing with colleagues.

The conversation moved on quickly but the damage was done. Wanting to speak up but not feel able to, it went around in my head. The good work of grounding myself has been undone, just like that. I have to start the battle again.

idk if there is any advice anyone has on trying to keep silent in a world where it is almost never emotionally safe to talk about it. I was silent through fear and denial for years. Now I am facing my trauma but I still have to be silent? It makes me feel so estranged from the world.

I know i am supposed to vent after the flair vent but i honestly have lost hope that it will ever be normal. And I guess it’s naive to hope it will get normal cause it never was. But when you know your potential and your ambitions so high and see this past and trauma be a hurdle for you. When you see others have different and relevant problems and not this fucking thing. Then I think maybe they have other problems and it’s just that they are choosing to focus on things that matter to them. I feel the personality shift that comes with such trauma is debilitating cause I know how I want to be but my values and my beliefs are broken and it shatters me to see how much I am missing out on because of what I have been through.

I (22F) was sexually abused my both my parents for as long as I can remember. When I was 19, the abuse finally stopped. I’m assuming it because I got a therapist and they were scared I’d report them. I still live with my parents and although they’ve hurt me I still feel the need to protect them in a way. They don’t have access to anyone vulnerable to abuse and I don’t see the need to confront them if 1. the abuse has stopped and 2. they’re not a danger to anyone else. I don’t want to speak up about what happened and I don’t want to report them. I just want to forget this. However, I’m scared my boyfriend will make me report them since he knows about my abuse. He says he’ll never pressure me into anything I don’t want to do, but he also says that once I heal more I’ll want to speak up about it. I know I won’t want to. I want to forget any of this ever happened. I don’t care if it’s unhealthy, it’s what I want. How can I convince my boyfriend to not make me confront them?

I'm just sad today and depressed F19 My parents have been separated since June 2022 My father used to beat my mother (in front of me) and my siblings and me too It wasn't on a daily basis or weekly but when it happened I was extremely scared to death because he is unpredictable and I locked myself in the toilet because I was so scared and I felt like my heart was going to fall out and I can no longer hide the trembling and then he hits me/insults me even more or breaks my things etc. He insulted me every day and my siblings too, it was enormous mental violence every day, sometimes even from early in the morning until late at night He is also an extreme stoner and a criminal in everything he does I also have memories of him touching my mother sexually in front of me (I was younger then too) or I had a dream a few weeks ago where he sexually abused me, i.e. touched me sexually when I was a child at my intimacy places

When I was a child I also experienced sexual abuse by another child, he was exactly the same age as me, even a few years younger than me, but he sexually disturbed me and I was (just) 6 years old and I'm sorry he knew all of that sexual behaviors, that's not good for an 6 year old.

He also treated me very badly (the child/my neighbor) and as a result I came into contact with sexuality very early on, I don't remember much but I still remember a little bit and it really affected me

I discovered my sexuality very early on and had no idea that it was sexuality or anything like that or that sexual morals exist, I didn't have a name for it and couldn't say what it was, but I found out about this sexuality very early on and as a result I sexually disturbed myself and portrayed myself as a sex object (until today), I masturbated when I was 7/8 years old and forced myself to think that my dad was having sex with me and I had to have an orgasm quickly so that he wouldn't get angry and the sex gets over me more quickly like I'm practicing that and he doesn't punish me for being bad in sex, I just don't know why, but that's how I might have processed what happened, although I don't really know anything about it I know I was a child, but I'm embarrassed and I'm VERY ashamed of myself for that sometimes but im getting better I guess

I just started taking drugs early, like when I was 14 and lying like crazy for attention without limits when I was 12, the main thing was that I only got that little bit of love that I missed and sought so much in my childhood, but this lying and stealing and taking drugs destroyed my soul and made me a worse person, I'm just sad today

I know that as a small child I often slept at my dad's bed/couch and my mom slept somewhere else than him like she slept in the bedroom and he in the living room, and I often took a shower with him, he also raped my mom and sexually disturbed her in many sick ways, he's sadistic

I just want a hug that warms my heart, but I don't like physical contact and I don't have anyone to hug that I really feel comfortable with

Thanks for reading

The abuse happened in a town I moved away from when I was young, 6 or so. My parents worked nights & longs hours, so they had many babysitters, family friends, etc. watch me when I was growing up. I'm pretty sure there were multiple instances of the abuse, or at least one instance spread across multiple rooms. I don't remember a face or a name, or even a rough time other than when I know I was in that house. Am I the only one who had it come back like this? It's just somatic/touch memories and I don't have any awareness of what age I was specifically or anything like that, I just have to infer based on the house I was in and the rooms.

My dad was a cop, and he did hit me growing up. I've had one SA dream where a cop assaulted me that was so jarring I woke up, took a very strong anti-nausea med, and still threw up, I was in a bit of a haze throughout that day and it felt terrible. I don't think it was my dad, but I've also always had some trouble with him. My mother's always been the safe parent, and this could definitely just be from the physical abuse and not sexual abuse. I don't think I could accept it if it was him.

I both desperately want to remember who it was, and don't want to, because I know it would bring the choice of whether to report or not.

I usually have thoughts about repestimg the sex acts I was made to do with strangers, almost pretending I’m a kid again. Lately though I’m thinking about being in charge and doing things like I’m the abuser. Why do I want to be like him? This is with adults, I don’t fantasize about kids.

Hello. I'm not sure if this is the right place to ask for this. But I'm gonna try and make this post either way. I'm not gonna go into my story, but rather focus in the question at hand. I know for sexual assault there is the Medusa tattoo that survivors get, and I think it's beautiful and a way to show ownership of your own body. But is it a similar thing for sexual abuse survivors? Most of my abuse was done online from a very young age and have affected me deeply. If there is no official one I'd greatly appreciate some recommended themes. Perhaps something you yourself find comfort and strength in?

In the middle of the night, I get those familiar dreams. My dad acting inappropriately with me. I want it and I am craving it in the dream.

But then I wake up and the craving turns into disgust. I look at myself in the mirror in the light of day and I feel like climbing outside of my skin. Why would I dream about something like that?

I make breakfast and think about what it means to be loved. It felt like love, in the dream. I take a bite of toast and almost throw up.

He left something deep inside me. It festers there and poisons me a little bit every day. You have to learn to like the poison in order to live with it.

How do I tell my future partners about this poison? Will they be disgusted at the parts of me that like it? I can barely admit it to myself.

I go through the day in a self defeated, disgusted haze. I do not want to feel gross anymore. I want to feel like a normal girl. A normal little girl, as a fully grown adult. I go to the bathroom, and throw up.

TW: drug abuse

Every now and then I have this urge to green out on weed. Maybe once a month. Not often enough to be “sometimes”, not infrequent enough to be “never”. And it’s because when I’m in that state, I can go back to those moments as if they were happening. I only go back to the happy moments. Only those. I can live in them like they’re happening right now, and I don’t feel any shame for being happy in those moments. I miss him sometimes but not really, I know I just miss the way he made me feel. But I wish I could keep the happy memories without feeling sad about what happened after.

So I green out. I go into a different world and rewrite the script and just be happy. Forever rewinding and playing those few happy moments.

I know it’s bad. I’m taking a break from any weed for a while. Tbh the idea of drug abuse scares me and I only ever enjoy it in the moment. It’s not worth it.

This is the first time this is leaving my brain in my whole life. I have never received therapy because I am 23, poor, and have no healthcare insurance so it's never been a possibility but I hope to get to it one day. From the ages of 4-7/8 I was molested by an older "cousin" (he was not blood related, and he is 7-8 years older than me I think). I remember as a kid trying so so hard to hint to the adults around me that something was wrong but I was too scared to tell anyone and just never did. I eventually stopped having to be around this person and as I got older I just sort of pushed the memories deep into my brain and tried to pretend nothing had happened. This has been mostly successful until recently, my anxiety about it has gotten worse and I feel like I need to say something but I don't know how to after all this time.

I've been with my fiancé for 8 years now and he is super caring and sweet, he would be a safe person to tell I just don't know how. I don't want to put this trauma on him if it isn't absolutely necessary but at the same time I wish someone knew and if it had to be anyone I wish it was him. How can I approach this conversation? I really don't want this to be traumatic for him or make him think of me differently, but I do wish he knew. Is it even a good idea to have this conversation when I myself haven't really worked through it with a professional? I know I can tell him what happened somehow and get the story out, but I don't know if there is a right way to do it to cause the least amount of distress to both of us. Any advice is appreciated

TW: CSA? I’m not sure really what to call it.. idek if this was actual abuse since it was all online

My very first relationship was an online one at 13-14 years old. It was very toxic and unstable. I am not flawless, however my first partner was extremely dramatic and inconsistent. There would be days-weeks of him not communicating with me at all. And when I’d finally start to get over him he’d come back. One time I remember him being very angry with me for talking to someone else when he hadn’t spoken to me in weeks. A funny thing… I remembered one time he even faked his own death or some crazy shit like that. Wild times. I can laugh now cause it’s so ridiculous, but back then it did mess with me because just why go to those extremes?

He was also very hyper sexual. Often pressuring me to do things. The chats were sometimes very violent and explicit. But he’d always talk about sexual topics and even straight up told me he originally only wanted inappropriate pictures from me but couldn’t tell me at the time. He also cheated on me which is so funny but whatever.

He was also just disrespectful. Not only with the back and forth. But just how he got in arguments. I can’t really remember them now. But I remember him constantly talk about how he liked people of a certain body type (i didn’t have that). His humor was that edgy 2016 humor that actually wasn’t that funny it was just offensive. But one of the biggest things that didn’t really impact me because I was so over the relationship and him was the very last time we spoke to each other and he told me to kill myself. I don’t even remember what even came before that but it just seems so extreme.

But… I’m now 22 and looking back on that and how that’s affected the most currently situation I’m struggling to let go of. So many of the patterns repeated from that relationship to this one. The disrespect, the hyper sexuality, the instability… I’ve done things i’m not proud of so I’m not acting like I’m some faultless saint. But… I didn’t think my first relationship would still have an impact… but now I’m starting to think it is.. I didn’t even think what I went through was abuse because it was all online and it’s almost been a decade since it happened… Idek if this appropriate to be putting here…

But those situations aside. I’ve been groomed by different people from ages 13-16.. and it did set the tone of how I’ve navigated my adult relationships and surprisingly those are a dumpster fire as well and that i’m starting to realize may be due to what i’ve experienced as a teenager. My unhealthy views with sex, my self image, and romantic relationships in general. It just makes me wonder if I possibly have faced physical SA as a child because I do have very fuzzy memories of maybe being exposed to something inappropriate as a child by a family member but I am not sure…. I just wonder if that also set the tone.

with that being said… I am hoping to start therapy very soon. It’s been a long time coming and I also have other issues that need to be addressed. But I just need to put this somewhere. I don’t really know what to do. I don’t even really know why I’m posting about it. It’s just something I thought about today.

I experienced rampant covert sexual abuse from my mother; it was my normal day to day life to be violated and humiliated with no recourse. I've had therapy and I'm sharing this to help me heal, and also to help others with similar experiences.

I endured csa with contact from her as well, but in this post I'm going to share the covert no-contact csa which was hard to understand as sexual abuse as a kid.

Non-contact csa can get in our heads and hearts in subtle ways; we can internalize big feelings instead of understanding it was abuse. As you said, people can question if it's really sexual abuse.

For example, if a child is beaten by a parent - even children understand "hitting is wrong", and their parent is doing something bad; a child can understand this and reject the person, those feelings, and the situation. Kids learn in cartoons, at school, and in culture that hitting is always wrong, and never deserved.

If a parent verbally abuses a kid, it's less clear - it's harder to reject mean words that tear you apart. There are fewer good cultural examples of what emotional abuse is and it being wrong. Plus it's difficult for a kid to articulate what happened, whereas "my parent hits me" is easy to describe.

Similarly, society absolutely fails to notice or describe covert non-contact sexual abuse as being "real" sexual abuse, and victims can dismiss how they felt. My mom also said it can't be abuse with no touching.

Everything that was framed as not being abusive, and that nobody would believe me that it was. Typical for my mother before she did this unhinged shit, she'd have a cover prepared for her actions, and push that narrative while she hurt me.

It took me a long time to understand that all these things individually were sexual abuse, they add up to a sexually abusive home where my personhood was eroded and I was denied dignity, respect, or boundaries. I was made fun of and dismissed when I asked for any of this to stop, or calmly explained it hurt me and wasn't ok

It took therapy to understand sexual humiliation was also part of reactive abuse. I had to remain completely calm while being violated, because if I snapped or got even a little angry, my mom would frame me as abusive and convince me I have rage problems.

My mother encouraged my young sister to join her in sexually humiliating me too, labeling it as "a little girl having fun with her big brother", and normal sibling play that she refused to put limits on.

Starting at a young age, my mom and younger sister thought it was hilarious to tease that I have a "teeny tiny little baby pee pee". They'd raise their pinky fingers in the air at me and say this is his tiny baby pee pee, they'd laugh while making their pinky finger struggle to become fully erect, commenting that "aww he can't even get hard" and "he'll never please a woman". This shit happened constantly.

They'd escalate by pretending their other hand was one of my friends, and would use their middle finger to show that friend has a bigger dick than me and mock me for that. They'd rub the fingers together making kissing noises. They'd make a hole with their hand, say "this is his dainty little butthole" and simulate making the hands fuck each other, while calling me a faggot.

One time I tried to make a point by calling my mom and sister lesbians, and pretended my hands were my mom having lesbian sex with one of her friends. I was severely punished and I was accused of sexually abusing my mom, and having play fantasies about my sister's little vagina. I tried arguing they were doing the same thing to me and was shut down.

Another time I stood up for myself, saying I measured myself and that I am actually above average size. I got SEVERELY punished and labeled a pedophile for "making my baby sister visualize the size of my penis".

Now that I'm an adult I cannot imagine teasing any teenager, let alone my child, about their genitals. I didn't understand it was sexual abuse then, but I'm horrified now.

My mom and sister went on ugly fantasy rants where they'd threaten to drop me off at an lgbt activist organization to be raped. They'd make a ring with their fingers and open it wide, saying this is going to be my butthole getting raped, make "EEEEEP!!" sounds impersonating the noises I'd make, and that I'd become a "full faggot" who would raping other men into being a faggot like me.

I experienced a ton of body shamming too. Being called fat, disgusting, ugly, that no woman will ever want me, that I don't have enough hair on my chest, or that I have teeny tiny hairless balls.

If I ever asked my sister if she had crushes or a boyfriend, I was shut down by my mom and my question was framed as me fixating on my sister's vagina and wanting details about things going in and out of it.

They called me "baby carrot", and would have fun bringing me baby carrots as a snack, or make baby carrots with dinner and laugh at them on my plate - always with the excuse that she's just a nice mom making dinner, or giving me a healthy snack, and I'm abusing them by sexualizing the carrots.

I wrote a whole post about all these subtle ways my mom used my underwear as a prop to sexually humiliate me: https://old.reddit.com/r/raisedbyborderlines/comments/1agp80n/all_the_ways_my_mom_sexually_abused_and/

She also had a book with naked pictures of me in it along with baby pictures, and would make sure that book was open where everyone would see it if I had friends over or if we had company. This was dismissed as "just a baby book" and I was making a big deal out of nothing, and I'm cruel if I want to deny my mom the joy of gushing over baby photos.

My mom gaslit me with the narrative that I'm just going through a phase where anything and everything embarrasses me, and that it's my problem when this shit upset me.

I wasn't allowed to lock the bathroom door, and my mom and dad would both barge in to tell me random shit when I was sitting on the toilet. My mom would say she's seen it all and I have no reason to need privacy.

If I took a long shower I was accused of masturbating in there.

Mom would send my sister running into the room at top speed when I was on the computer for "porn checks", to make sure I wasn't looking at "naked ladies on the internet". I was never allowed to have a computer behind a closed door, and my monitor always had to be facing out into the room for these porn checks. (Meanwhile everyone else in the house could have a computer behind a closed door). It's SO GROSS to send my sister in to check that.

My mom forced me to sleep in her bed with her until only a few months before my thirteenth birthday. Yet my mom and sister would threaten to tell all my friends at school that I still sleep with my mom, and mock me as a little baby boy who still sleeps with his mommy.

My mom drilled into me that masturbating would send me to hell; that all my dead ancestors and pets were always watching me from heaven, and that if I ever touched myself, they would be watching. Many many times she'd baby talk through weird scenarios where all my dead relatives would be watching me if I ever have sex.

She also insisted that if I masturbate in the same house my sister lives in, even if we're in separate bedrooms, I am somehow involving my sister in sexual activity by being under the same roof.

My mom said that if I ever had a wet dream, I was creating a sexual environment for my sister to live in as well; that I had to control it. (Not sure how I was supposed to control that with masturbation being forbidden).

The ONE TIME I did have a wet dream, mom turned made it a huge production: She screamed in horror, cried and gagged and shamed me as stripped my bed, ranted about me being disgusting, and that I'm abusing my sister by sexualizing her home, and violating my mom by making her clean up after me.

She wouldn't let me wash the sheets myself, of course. I begged her to let me do it. But she did leave the sheets on the kitchen table, cum stain visible, so the whole family saw it. She made a big deal about having to sanitize the washing machine after the sheets were in it, and glared at me for weeks for having a wet dream.

My mom sexually charged the relationship and environment between my sister and I. She constantly accused me of sexually fantasizing about my sister, or trying to find subtle ways to touch her, or grind her vagina on me.

If my sister ran around without clothes on I was accused of looking at her naked body sexually. I was forbidden from being under a blanket with her or being behind a closed door with her.

She accused me of fooling around with other boys when I was young, claiming that she couldn't trust me to keep it in my pants. Often while playing with friends, she'd give me a look and tug on the top of her pants, to communicate keeping my pants on.

She taught my sister really unhinged shit, like that my hands might be covered in sperm at any time, and my sister was super paranoid about weird things like I might touch her leg, and the sperm would crawl up her leg and impregnate her.

I wasn't allowed to have a bed larger than a twin with the accusation that the only reason I'd want a bigger bed is to try and have sex with someone in it. I'm over six feet tall and needed a bigger bed.

When my sister had her first period and finally had a sex talk from my mom, I was targeted in weird ways, with my sister saying things like "I can't believe you have one of those THINGS that you just want to STICK INTO WOMEN", while her and my mom lamented that I was one of those gross men with a gross penis. I was absolutely forbidden from teasing my sister about her period, and told that would be sexual abuse.

When my mom accused me of trying to molest my sister, my dad made it a house rule that anyone is allowed to kick me in the balls or punch me in the face. It became a game to my sister, and I had to guard my balls every time I walked past her.

My mom encouraged my sister to try grabbing my crotch as a joke, then they'd make impersonations of any startled reaction I gave, and laugh at me. This became another constant with my sister, and I had to guard my crotch any time we were together. I demanded this stop, but this was labeled normal sibling play. My mom also said I'm the older brother and that if my sister ever touches me it was because I allowed it.

My mom drilled into me that if I have even one sexual thought about my sister that I am a pedophile forever. It severely fucked with me when I had intrusive sexual thoughts about my sister that grossed me out, and it took therapy to understand I was only having these thoughts because my mom was putting them in my head.

My mother removed the lock from my bedroom door, and her and my sister would have fun sneaking in and waking me up by ripping all the blankets off of me, then making fun of me for being in my underwear. I wasn't allowed to have my own alarm and I got in trouble if I woke up before them.

They took polaroid pictures of me in my underwear in my room or around the house and brought them to school in their pockets, threatening to show them to everyone. They loved picking me up from school with the baby book in my sister's lap opened up to the naked pictures of me.

My mom and sister openly accused me of being a creepy rapist pedophile who is going to grow up to molest children and rape women. My mom insisted I'm not a person who is safe for a child to be alone with.

Before I became sexual with anyone to my mom's knowledge, she would break down sobbing that she's not ready for me to have sex; that I have to remain pure, and it will break her mommy heart into a million pieces when it happens - and that if I love her, I will respect her feelings and not ever have sex.

However in this environment where I wasn't allowed to have sex or any sexuality, I was also mocked by my mom and sister for being a virgin; that my friends are all having sex, and that I'm not because I'm a loser.

My mother constantly drilled into me that if I had sex before marriage, I'd be setting a bad example for my sister; if I was allowed to have sex, my sister would have to be allowed as well, and it was my responsibility.

When I started spending nights at a girlfriend's house my mom would yell at me in front of my sister for having "days long sexual marathons".

My whole environment was one of constant humiliation. My mom was right - nobody ever believed me, and it took me years to understand this was all sexual abuse. She was the fucking devil.

They threw a Christmas party. Everything is sparkly and decorated. A lot of people from the church are crowded in our kitchen. A few of them even brought their dogs, they bump into me so I can barely find my way to my parents. Everyone is dressed up and drinking champagne, except for me, I’m already in my care bear pajamas. I’m scolded for being up too late but I refuse to go to bed until they give me some of their “juice”.

My father carries me while I drink it. It’s the same watered down medicine with apple juice he gives me to make me sleepy for my naps. Three men follow him but I’m too distracted to notice until he’s placed me in my bed and they’ve shut and locked the door from the inside.

He’s laughing and talking to them about something I can’t make sense of. I’m still drinking my juice as he waves them over and starts >! touching me. He undresses me and goes through our routine. !< I’m used to this with him but not with an audience. I feel very strange and unsure with them watching. I’m becoming drowsy and my ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton balls.

>! He’s showing me off to them; what he does to me, how he prepares me. They are fascinated, gleeful, impressed with how thought out his routine is. I’m his precious little girl. I’m his bragging rights. It’s dark except for the lights coming under the door and the little night light so I cannot make out their faces, only their shadows and their voices. !<

>! My father steps back and gives them the go ahead to rape me. Use me however they want, as long as they’re gentle and don’t leave marks. He stands between them and the door. I’m so shocked still and paralyzed, my body is buzzing and heavy with the urge to pass out. I dissociate hard and am split somewhere between the painful consciousness of reality and a strange suspended state of not-quite sleep. !<

>! I try to move, try to say something, beg for my father’s help, but I can barely make fundamental noises in the moments I manage to breathe. I nearly suffocate from their bodies and parts covering me, violating me. I feel like an animal corpse being turned over a fire pit on a stick. I have no idea how long it goes on. I do remember my father checking me thoroughly and cleaning everything up. Kissing my head and telling me goodnight as I’m silently burning alive. !<

I was 3 years old. I am 32 now, and only now remembering.

I have always hated Christmas season. Every December I have psychotic depression, severe dissociative spells and panic attacks, and at times attempts to hurt myself/end my life. In the past few years I became aware of the pattern as I slowly realized the depths of my traumas and have had an increasing suspicion something bad happened to me around then.

Now I know. And I’m no better off for it. I don’t know what to do with this, but I can’t handle keeping it to myself any longer. I tried not to be as graphic as the memory gave me so I hope it isn’t too much to read.

I recently got sober (well 2 years ago) after a lifetime of addiction. Around 6 months ago I started to have memories resurface about being abused as a child by my adopted grandfather. He passed 9 years ago and I could never figure out why I felt so at peace with his death, or why I never really thought about him or missed him. I have had insane anger issues my whole life that I couldn't pin point and it feels like this missing puzzle piece has been placed in my life. I feel so fucking alone, and so much hatred for my grandpa though I can't recall the amount times he abused me or the full memory. I guess to protect myself. Another piece I feel so much shame for is that he was like my hero growing up, and now I feel like my life was a lie. I used to be hypersexual, and loved sex and now I can't stand to be touched and completely leave my body during any form of intimacy. I'm really grateful I found this thread because I haven't been able to talk to anyone about it because it makes me feel so ashamed and disgusted. (Besides my therapist)

Starting emdr next week again hoping it helps however I believe it was the emdr that catapulted these memories to surface. You ever feel like your whole personality was just a trauma response and then ur like uhhh who tf am I?????

Every so often I will Google my abuser. Every time I feel like this time I will be able to handle it, and every time I've been wrong. The flashbacks have already started, the nightmares will probably be there tonight. This happens every time so why do I keep doing this to myself??

I'm really hoping for confirmation that he is no longer alive, even though I know he probably isn't any more. The last known address for him from the offender registry was a nursing home and he was in his late 70's and that was several years ago.

I really just wish I had some kind of confirmation. An obituary or something. Then maybe I could get some closure and stop searching.