I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, about healing. Living with ptsd from my first marriage and the abuse he put me through. He now acts self righteous and is continuing to make mine and my kids lives miserable.
Laying in bed early this morning before the sunrise, having flashbacks of the abuse he put me through 20 years ago. Why is it still bothering me? All these years later. I think because I never dealt with it, never sought therapy. Just thought I deserved It. Hid it. Covered it up deep inside my bones and now that he’s involved himself covertly behind the scenes in my life it is bubbling over causing a severe mental health crisis.
Let me be clear, he hasn’t attempted to speak to his daughter in years. He isn’t involved that way, unfortunately he missed the best thing that could have happened to him. He doesn’t have a daughter. But he did insert himself into our lives to the point where he’s caused irreparable damage.
I follow a blog on IG where they talk about how abuse survivors like to talk about their abuse, no matter how far in the past it is. It’s healing. I hid The abuse for years and years and years and it builds up in your system until you explode.
If your sensitive to sexual assault stories then stop reading. This isn’t for you. This is my truth . And some of it is very graphic .
He likes to speak about sexual assault but I think He forgets that he actually did sexually assault someone. Me. This gets graphic so again, scroll by. The first time, my first time as a 18-19 year old, he took my virginity in my driveway in his car. I begged him not to. I wasn’t ready, and my parents preached to me how nasty and disgusting Sex was and they would kick me out if they ever thought i was having sex whilst living in their house. He held my arms down, pulled my pants down and underwear to the side and took what wasn’t his to take with me pleading not to. Why did I stay? My self esteem was shit. I grew up being abused by my father and mother. This is why i am so picky about only building my kids confidence with positive words and keeping out the negative. I remember Calling my friend after and she said that sounds like rape. And I said, well maybe . But it’s ok. I excused the behavior. At least he paid me attention. The second time was about 2 am in my parents living room he told me if I didn’t shave down there he’d never touch me again. I said Absolutely not. I did Not want to shave down there. He told me he would never speak to me again, and took me in the bathroom , tears streaming down my face he shaved me bald.
He wouldn’t take me anywhere unless I’d wear revealing clothes, tube tops only and would make me go home and change until I was Dressed the way he liked it. Only for us to go to a field where he’d suck on my breasts for hours until they bruised and he’d fuck me for 5 mins and take me back home. Life at home was awful. Self esteem is so important or this never would have continued on.
At one point I wrote him a letter asking why he would never kiss me. I left It on my bed and my mom read it and called me every single name she could think of. Dirty, a pig, If I was Having nasty sex I needed To leave her house. Instead of addressing my letter and telling me to leave him if he was never kissing me and just using me for sex, she degraded me and made me feel like i deserved the treatment. Eventually that led me to moving in with him and his mom. Where the abuse got worse, the beatings got worse. He sat me down on his living room floor and told me he could not ever kiss me because I was Gross. I had too much spit. My tongue felt too warm. But he would practice with me one time. So he told me to try it and immediately he freaked out and told me that was it because I was too gross to ever kiss.
One time he had a bunch of people over for a cookout, I was still very young, probably 20 at this point. I was wearing a white flowing tank top with tie strings on my shoulders. He kept pulling my breast’s out in front of everyone. Slapping them , pulling at them, I got sick of it and went to our room. He followed me with his friend, who is now a prestigious officer in state correctional facilities. And his friends girlfriend at the time. My ex threw me in the bed and wouldn’t stop groping me, they got naked, all three and i was crying for them to stop. The ripped my clothes off and i was trying to huddle in the corner of the bed and I was crying for my mom. I was yelling for her. I can Hear the now correctional officer telling me to stop ! They then all three sexually assaulted me. While I cried Out for my mom.
I often wonder if he thinks about these things as he’s on his crusade against someone whose never raped or hurt anyone. The sexual abuse was just a sidebar to the rest of the abuse he put me through. This next part is very graphic so scroll on by if you don’t want to hear about sexual conduct .
He would violate my anal area so badly that I’d bleed blood clots out of that area for hours on the toilet. He’d make me do things I didnt Want to do to his own anal area. He’d make me shove things up it and lick it and it would make me so sick. He rarely showered. It would physically make me sick. He didn’t care , as long as he was pleasured. And that was my duty. My only duty. All I was good for, he made that clear. It just got worse and worse. When I watch Handmaids tale and they talk about pretending to be elsewhere while the sexual abuse happens that’s exactly what I would Do. He also would watch porn constantly, I remember Being pregnant with ava and he woke me up at two am and had me sit on the steps while he pleasured himself to young ladies on his computer screen.
This is all my truth. These memories haunt me. He’s so narcissistic that he proudly fights against this type of thing while knowing the sexual abuse he put me through and God only knows who else.
This is my truth.
