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Getting it over with

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I am writing this because I started therapy Friday and one of the best ways to overcome problems is to talk about them. I also know that I will eventually tell my story so I might as well get it over with. I am focusing on moving on with my life but without facing my past there isn’t really much chance of me being happy. I’ll start by listing all of the people involved in my abuse which includes every form of abuse but the majority of my problems are caused by the molestation. They are my three cousins, Amanda, Rodney and Tiffany who were all older than me, and my older brother.

My story starts around age four, my cousins’ ages were 5(T), 7(R), and 8(A) and my brother was 7. My cousins decided to play Truth or Dare with us. I was always seen as a third wheel because I was smaller, weaker and tended to be a tattle tale. Since they considered me a wuss they decided that I wasn’t allowed to choose truth or I would never get dared. It didn’t take long for them to dare me to give Rodney oral. I tried to refuse but when they used threats of death and started beating me. Even though my two female cousins were not directly involved in my molestation, they enjoyed hitting me whenever I “wasn’t doing it right”. They also made it very clear that no one would believe me and that any bruises left could be explained as my usual clumsiness or simple rough housing. This was not the first time it happened but it is the first I remember. I couldn’t refuse to play with them for the same threat based reasons.

Around the same time Rodney spent the night at our house. Around midnight he turned the T.V. to an infomercial, selling "Girls Gone Wild" a tape that basically is just a bunch of women striping. He told me and my brother this is what real boys watched and the only people who didn't like it were fags (where I grew up that was one of the worst insults possible. Three cheers for conservative hell holes.). So we spent about thirty minutes watching it and then my cousin convinced my brother to join him as they used my thighs for masturbating and forcing me to perform oral. The only reason they didn't penetrate me anally was because “that would be gay” yet for some reason oral was not. These two situations continued at least once a month until I was 7 and we moved.

However along with my cousins’ instigated abuse, my brother also chose to abuse me separately. He attempted to protect his mind from the evil he was doing by claiming to be sleep walking and usually used Sailor Moon fantasies to further convince himself. He eventually gave up the bogus excuse but his abuse didn't stop until I was 14 and in the eighth grade. My cousins had stopped direct sexual abuse when we moved but would make sex jokes, show me porn and tell me that if I didn’t enjoy watching naked women online, I was obviously gay (at the time that was terrifying but now i am leaning toward bi). They also used to make me sit naked in front of a fan for anywhere between 5-30 minutes so that my genitals would shrink therefore making it less gay.
There was a 6 month “break”, if you want to call it that, when I was 12. My dad took a 6 month contract job in New Mexico and took my brother with him. However my cousins moved in with us because it was us or CPS was going to put them in foster care and my parents are very family oriented. They didn't sexually abuse me during that period but I was beaten on a regular basis, had threats of castration and had to watch them attempt to turn my little brothers into gangsters. So overall the abuse lasted 10 years minus a 6 month break and with at least 1 abuse per month put the minimum amount of times I was molested at around 114 (I know there were more than that but that is the only bare minimum estimate). My guess is that it was close to 300 or more.

Now that what happened is out of the way, I will now go into the effects. The most obvious effect was that I quickly became extremely introverted. My parents tell me stories about me being extroverted when I was 4-6 and that I steadily became more withdrawn. They assumed it was just normal changes. I also have extreme trust issues and feel sick when I get into crowds. I never trusted anyone enough to form any close friendship until I met Mandy in eighth grade. I can’t communicate effectively with other people and usually won’t talk to anyone until I have known them for a while. I also have a bit of a phobia for fans and if I am not careful I will get physically ill from the wind current. The fan problem has lessened a lot since I found out what was causing it. However I came to love what most people fear. I love closed, tight spaces and the dark. I like being in tight spaces because I am able to know that I am the only one there and because most people are afraid of the dark I know I am alone. I also dissociated to survive. I had a different conscious take over during the abuse and about an hour afterwards I would have no recollection of the event. It took 2 years after the abuse stopped for me to recall everything that happened but I was very depressed before and as it came out. The other consciousness had shielded me from the depression and it was quickly recombined with me which was basically its way of committing suicide because it ceased to exist. Another coping method I used was bottling my emotions until I couldn't feel anything. In fact when my grandma, who I loved dearly, died I didn't cry at all because I didn't feel anything at all. I became suicidal when I realized what had happened and I was brought to the edge when I gave up on religion. There was no way I could believe since I spent every moment I was conscious of my abuse praying for help or for god to simply comfort me. If there is a god(s) I cannot believe that he/they are benevolent or quite frankly give a damn about anyone. No one should ever go through what I did and yet thousand, probably millions of children do. I would never commit suicide when I was religious because it would be a straight shot to hell. When the fear of hell was gone I almost tried to kill myself but first I confided in Mandy and she was able to talk me out of it and that was about a year ago.

I also suffer from guilt. I know that none of it was my fault but negative thought don’t go away just because you know they’re false. I constantly berate myself for not telling anyone even though I know it was learned helplessness. I question if it counted as abuse because, as they loved to point out, I got aroused during the abuse but I also know that it is a body’s natural, uncontrollable response just like sweating. I also did enjoy it after a fashion because it was the one time I wasn't the annoying third wheel but that was just a pathetic rationalization to get me through the pain. I blame myself for their involvement with ideas like “if I were stronger, if I wasn’t so different, I must have encouraged them, and so on and so forth.” A similar problem is severe resentment of my family. I resent my 2 younger brothers because they didn't have to go through the same pain as I did, I resent my parents for not being able to protect me even thought they had no knowledge of the abuse and I resent my brother for obvious reasons. However I realize the first two are largely irrational and I have forgiven my brother for the most part. He is very easy to manipulate and power is addictive and he was exposed to the power abusing me gave him for three years before he started it on his own.

In an attempt to find the silver lining in this hellish experience I also want to list some progresses. Since then I have set out to better understand myself and solve my own problems. I have almost overcome my fan phobia and i have also opened my mind to more possibilities and discovered that I had fetishes and many other odd traits which I would have never found if I followed my parents close mindedness. I have come to believe that the most important thing in life is to do whatever makes you happy as long as you aren’t harming anyone.

I decided early on that I would need to seek out a therapist. Unfortunately a minor cannot get counseling without parental consent and I didn’t want my parents to know what happened because I knew it would hurt them, especially since the abuse happened in their house, usually when they were there. Then this semester an opportunity presented itself. My psychology teacher offered several extra credit projects for a 10% bonus on the final score. One of those projects was to visit a psychologist and hand write a 2 page confidential report on what was learned. I got my parents to agree and had an interview with a psychologist that my teacher said was open minded. I talked to him and he was okay with fetishes and didn't think people who had them should be “reprogrammed”. Texas is one of the single most conservative states so finding a therapist that I could actually be open with was a blessing. Then I asked if he was comfortable helping me overcome the problems associated with my molestation without telling my parents. He immediately said he would pretend that I prefaced that with “what if” because if a therapist is told about molestation they are obligated to report it. (It is not clear if he would just have to tell the police or my parents as well. Either way it would obviously get back to them). He said that I would have to tell my parents but if I wasn’t willing to he would leave it in the realm of what if. After a few days I finally decided to tell my parents because I want to get better. I told them most of the truth but left out all of my fetishes since in my opinion they are unrelated and even if they weren't it isn’t any of their business. They took it almost exactly as I expected and my mom is now questioning her faith which in my opinion she cannot survive without.


  1. BandNerd's Avatar
    I am very sorry to hear about the abuse you got from your cousins and older brother. My heart goes out to you. - the Adult Baby / Diaper Lover / Incontinence Support Community. is designed to be viewed in Firefox, with a resolution of at least 1280 x 1024.