Trauma

I had been molested by my father and grandfather for as long as I could remember. My Father would kiss me in a way that made me extremely uncomfortable, he would do things like putting my foot in his mouth, he made me feel horribly uncomfortable all the time. My grandfather would walk around the house completely naked. His reasoning was that when he was little he had to have surgery and the whole time he was in the hospital he didn't have to wear clothes, and since then that's how he's most comfortable. He didn't care if I was there, or if my step-siblings were there, or if my cousins were there. And he knew I was uncomfortable and didn't like it. I would tell him that constantly and he would just say things like, "but you used to like looking at my penis" or he would tell me, again, about his reasoning for doing it. He never stopped when I asked him to. I also have vague memories of my grandfather making me extremely uncomfortable on car rides when he would come to pick me up, but I don't remember any more than that. I know there was a lot more that happened that I don't remember.

I was 6 when my step-brother raped me, and he was 13. It started with him feeling under my dresses in the third row of the car, where no one would be paying attention. He would finger me and made me keep quiet about it. Unfortunately, I have always had really bad anxiety for as long as I can remember so I couldn't bring myself to say anything about it. My anxiety kept me quiet for a very long time as things got progressively worse and worse. I would try to sit in the middle seat or have someone else sit between us, but he would get angry at me for that. One day as everyone was getting out of the car and walking away he kissed me. He stuck his tongue in my mouth and I immediately pulled away and was mortified. But, again, I couldn't bring myself to say anything.

After a while, he wasn't satisfied with just fingering me in the back of the car so he started coming into my room at night. My step-sister and I shared bunk beds and she slept on the top. He would come in and tell her that he forgot to tell us goodnight. She, of course, believed him. So he would climb the ladder and give her a big hug and a sweet, brotherly kiss on the cheek. And then he would climb on top of me, pull my underwear off, and feel me and finger me. I was horribly uncomfortable and tried to push him off, but he wouldn't stop. After a few times, he moved on from just fingering me to licking me. This seemed less painful and horrific to me, so I let him do it. I remember this was about when he would start pushing my legs apart. I kept them straight, and wouldn't bend my knees to try to stop him, but that never worked. He just pushed them out. I remember how painful that was. Then he started pulling his own pants down. I remember how he always tried to force me to look at his penis, but I always shut my eyes as tight as I could and refused to open them for anything. I remember him crushing me under his weight, and his hot breath on me as he raped me. I also remember wondering why I felt so numb. After the first few times, I would feel numb. Emotionally and physically. I remember thinking how weird it was that I couldn't feel my body or anything he was doing. I also remember thinking "He's going to do this whether I fight him or not, so I better just let him. It'll be over sooner if I don't fight."

Then nights weren't enough for him anymore. He would use every opportunity he could find. We would all be playing and he would make up some game where only he and I could be in the room together and no one else could come in. Or when we were all getting ready to go swimming he would corner me in the bathroom once the adults were out of the house. I remember sitting on the toilet and him standing in front of me. He pulled his pants down and I shut my eyes as tight as I could. He kept trying to make me open my eyes, saying, "I want you to look at my penis! Look at it! Come on, open your eyes!" I refused and eventually he gave up and just did what he wanted. I also clearly remember the day I told him I hated what he was doing and that he couldn't do it anymore. He begged and convinced me to let him have one more time, and then he would stop. But he didn't stop. He always said, "This is just a continuation of the one last time. It still counts as just the last time." I asked him if that's how it would always be. A continuation of the last time. He said yes.

That's when I finally got up the nerve to tell my father. I remember being horribly nervous and sick to my stomach. But I got the words out. I don't remember what I said, but I remember my step-brother getting in trouble. Sitting on his bed sobbing as hard as anyone could. I remember it seemed like an eternity before anyone told my mom what had happened. I remember her sitting on the couch in my father's apartment and I was surrounded by all the adults and felt horribly sick with anxiety. They wanted me to tell my mom what had happened, but I couldn't speak at all. I wanted to tell her everything, but I couldn't say anything. It was like someone had ripped my voice out. I think eventually they gave up on trying to get me to tell her.

A lot of things changed after that, but now I don't think that it was enough. I was still going over there every other weekend, but my mom made the rule that he wasn't allowed to be in the same house as me. I remember very clearly my step-mom asking me if I was ok with him being around in a very, "it's not that big of a deal, right?" sort of way. I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, and I knew it was difficult for them to arrange somewhere else for him to be, and my anxiety was skyrocketing as she asked, so I told her I was ok with him being around. She said to make sure I never told my mom that he was around, though, because she would get mad. Eventually, my mom found out that they weren't keeping him away. She was angry at them. So I was only allowed to go see them during the day and she would pick me up to come home at night. It was over an hour drive to come pick me up, but she did it. She would drop me off in the morning, pick me up at night, and do it all over again the next day so that I could still spend the whole weekend there. Even then my step-brother was never kept away from me like he should have been. I remember sitting in my grandparent's house with my 3 step-siblings (him included) watching a show about dating that was unscripted and the person said something about a vibrator. My step-brother then decided to explain to us what that was and what it was used for.

I started going to see a therapist after a bit. My mom almost never took me to the appointments though. My grandma would drive out, an hour away, to come take me to the appointments because she knew how vitally important it was for me to go. I remember sitting in the room with the therapist and her trying every tactic in her arsenal to get me to talk. She handed me a boy action figure and a girl doll and wanted me to use them to show her what he did. Even that I couldn't do. I just sat there paralyzed in fear, feeling like I was frozen in place and my voice was stolen. I wanted to tell her and show her what had happened, but I couldn't do it. I felt horrible and sick. I don't think I ever told anyone the full extent of what he did to me.

I do remember my therapist had my father and step-mother and step-brother come in and we all sat down and they made my step-brother apologize to me. I remember he was crying so much. I sat there and just listened and hoped they didn't want me to say anything. Even just sitting there my anxiety was sky high. I remember the adults all talked a lot, but I don't remember what any of them said.