onlyerics
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2006
- Posts
- 174
My story
Hello.
I have been following this thread since I first joined. However, I never posted anything. It has also been awhile since I posted anything on the Lit. Last month there were some threads I had read about molestation and sexual abuse that just hit way too close to me, and so I had to take a break.
When I was 19 years old, I was molested by my uncle. He also attempted to rape me. At the time, I lived with my real mother in another country. I was in college. My aunt (my mother's sister) and her husband had raised me and my older brother since my mother couldn't do it herself. When my brother and I were old enough to go to college, we decided to go back and live with our mother. I was excited back then since it would give me a chance to be closer to her.
At the time, my uncle (my mother's cousin) was living with her. The two of them joined a different denomination a few years before my brother and I came to live with her. My uncle was kind of their spiritual leader, and so he was well-respected in their church.
The molestation started a few weeks after my 19th birthday. When it was just me and my uncle in the house, he would come to my room and make me touch him. I remember I would cry all the time. In his sick, perverted way, he would tell me that he loved me or was in love with me and that there was nothing wrong with what was going on. He told me that if I told someone, no one would believe me. I was also in a relationship with a young man at the time, and my uncle said that if I told someone or anyone, he would tell my boyfriend that I was the one who started it, and not him.
He tried to rape me but I fought and had gotten away. After that, I decided to tell my mother. Her reaction was not what I expected and these were her exact words: It's your fault.
I was apalled and hurt. I tried to tell my brother, but all he said to me was: I wasn't there when it happened so I wouldn't know if that's true.
I tried to tell my mother's friend once, and she was concerned and asked my mother if it was true. She told her that they weren't, and when my mother confronted me, she told me that I shouldn't tell any lies. To prevent me from telling "lies", my mother sent me to live with some very distant relatives.
My trust was broken. By this time, my relationship with my boyfriend had strained. I had broken things off with him without telling him of any of the abuse I felt. I didn't want to tell him anything because I was just too afraid to say anything. Yet it hurt so much, because I loved my boyfriend back then.
I finally wrote to my parents (my aunt and her husband) in the US, and without telling them anything, I just said that I wanted to go back to the states. They sent for me, and I went back to the US without completing my nursing degree. I did tell my aunt eventually, however, but it was a year after it happened before I had the courage to tell her about it.
I didn't have any relationships with anyone when I continued college. I dated but I never let them get close to me. I buried myself into work and school, letting myself no time for any social activities. No one would suspect that I had nightmares about my past at night for I lived the busy life of a working college student by day.
For years, I had managed to cope without going to counseling or taking medications. I have to say that it's beginning to become a struggle. My boyfriend E and I have been together for over a year, and sometimes it's difficult because I get sucked back into that black hole again.
Anyway, I know this has been a lengthy post. Thank you for reading. Quoll, I'm glad that you have this thread. It gave me a chance to write and reflect about my past. I have decided that I'm going to therapy.
Take care, everyone.
Hello.
I have been following this thread since I first joined. However, I never posted anything. It has also been awhile since I posted anything on the Lit. Last month there were some threads I had read about molestation and sexual abuse that just hit way too close to me, and so I had to take a break.
When I was 19 years old, I was molested by my uncle. He also attempted to rape me. At the time, I lived with my real mother in another country. I was in college. My aunt (my mother's sister) and her husband had raised me and my older brother since my mother couldn't do it herself. When my brother and I were old enough to go to college, we decided to go back and live with our mother. I was excited back then since it would give me a chance to be closer to her.
At the time, my uncle (my mother's cousin) was living with her. The two of them joined a different denomination a few years before my brother and I came to live with her. My uncle was kind of their spiritual leader, and so he was well-respected in their church.
The molestation started a few weeks after my 19th birthday. When it was just me and my uncle in the house, he would come to my room and make me touch him. I remember I would cry all the time. In his sick, perverted way, he would tell me that he loved me or was in love with me and that there was nothing wrong with what was going on. He told me that if I told someone, no one would believe me. I was also in a relationship with a young man at the time, and my uncle said that if I told someone or anyone, he would tell my boyfriend that I was the one who started it, and not him.
He tried to rape me but I fought and had gotten away. After that, I decided to tell my mother. Her reaction was not what I expected and these were her exact words: It's your fault.
I was apalled and hurt. I tried to tell my brother, but all he said to me was: I wasn't there when it happened so I wouldn't know if that's true.
I tried to tell my mother's friend once, and she was concerned and asked my mother if it was true. She told her that they weren't, and when my mother confronted me, she told me that I shouldn't tell any lies. To prevent me from telling "lies", my mother sent me to live with some very distant relatives.
My trust was broken. By this time, my relationship with my boyfriend had strained. I had broken things off with him without telling him of any of the abuse I felt. I didn't want to tell him anything because I was just too afraid to say anything. Yet it hurt so much, because I loved my boyfriend back then.
I finally wrote to my parents (my aunt and her husband) in the US, and without telling them anything, I just said that I wanted to go back to the states. They sent for me, and I went back to the US without completing my nursing degree. I did tell my aunt eventually, however, but it was a year after it happened before I had the courage to tell her about it.
I didn't have any relationships with anyone when I continued college. I dated but I never let them get close to me. I buried myself into work and school, letting myself no time for any social activities. No one would suspect that I had nightmares about my past at night for I lived the busy life of a working college student by day.
For years, I had managed to cope without going to counseling or taking medications. I have to say that it's beginning to become a struggle. My boyfriend E and I have been together for over a year, and sometimes it's difficult because I get sucked back into that black hole again.
Anyway, I know this has been a lengthy post. Thank you for reading. Quoll, I'm glad that you have this thread. It gave me a chance to write and reflect about my past. I have decided that I'm going to therapy.
Take care, everyone.
You may close yourself down to others, not let anybody close, but, when the right person comes along they just sort of worm their way past your defenses in the most delightful way, you see I think it's the same for friendship as it is for love, no matter how much you tell yourself you'll be better off alone we all want someone and the right ones just get through all those defense, sneaky bastids. 
