*Triggers Possible* Memories and unresolvable rage
I have a broken memory of being 7 or 8 years old at my friend's house, in a dark room. It may have been a basement apartment since the window covering sat high on the wall and the room smelled musty. I think my friend was upstairs.
I'm naked, covering myself with my hands. There's daylight from under the door and a table lamp is on the floor pointed at me. A white man wearing a red and black plaid long sleeve shirt and tan shorts with dark hair is standing in the corner of the room, holding a Polaroid camera. I remember the sound of the mechanism and the flash. He tells me to get on the bed and I do. He tells me to lay on my back, pull my legs up and he spreads them apart. After many different poses he starts putting things in me and taking more photos. He lays the camera on the bed and I feel his hands stroking my bum. I feel his penis against me and he says "that's it, be my good girl" and pushes inside me. I remember sharply inhaling. I feel his hips press against me. I am in pain and through his grunts he repeatedly whispered "good girl, cry for me". I feel his hands on my hips and back. His hands are rough and gripping me hard. The bed has only sheets on it which I am gripping and pulling at. It is more rough than previous times and I am terrified. I think I checked out. I don't remember when he finished or when I left or even the rest of the day.
The other times he would have sex with me were not in that room and then it was usually more...pleasant. I have a few memories of where after using me analy he would bathe me in the tub before I went home.
The more memories that return the more I see just how truly evil this man was.
He used my friend to lure me. He convinced me I was gay and no one would love me. He did things he knew my body would enjoy to keep me coming back. He seduced me to think only he could ever understand me. He twisted my reality and sense of self. He raped my mind just as much as he did my body.
I am so angry and enraged and there's nothing I can do about it.
I've had time to go through all the crazy thoughts. I'm not a violent person but I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about finding him and getting my own vigilante revenge. I thought about prosecution as well. I have been to the police sexual assault reporting website and just sat there thinking about what I would say.
I have patchy broken memories of abuse from 33 years ago, from a man who's name and face I can't remember and no physical evidence. Pointless.
The emotional toll this took on me nearly ended me and my marriage suffered horribly. I told my wife some of the things that happened to me and she had a breakdown and left me. My therapist and hers would explain that she was in emotional turmoil with vicarious trauma. It's alot to process that this person you love had this whole terrible part of their life you never knew about. (Tell me about it).
But she came back and with a lot of therapy we are doing better and more than that, know how to support one another.
Time it seems doesn't heal all wounds but a shit load of therapy will at least help you understand them.
I'm naked, covering myself with my hands. There's daylight from under the door and a table lamp is on the floor pointed at me. A white man wearing a red and black plaid long sleeve shirt and tan shorts with dark hair is standing in the corner of the room, holding a Polaroid camera. I remember the sound of the mechanism and the flash. He tells me to get on the bed and I do. He tells me to lay on my back, pull my legs up and he spreads them apart. After many different poses he starts putting things in me and taking more photos. He lays the camera on the bed and I feel his hands stroking my bum. I feel his penis against me and he says "that's it, be my good girl" and pushes inside me. I remember sharply inhaling. I feel his hips press against me. I am in pain and through his grunts he repeatedly whispered "good girl, cry for me". I feel his hands on my hips and back. His hands are rough and gripping me hard. The bed has only sheets on it which I am gripping and pulling at. It is more rough than previous times and I am terrified. I think I checked out. I don't remember when he finished or when I left or even the rest of the day.
The other times he would have sex with me were not in that room and then it was usually more...pleasant. I have a few memories of where after using me analy he would bathe me in the tub before I went home.
The more memories that return the more I see just how truly evil this man was.
He used my friend to lure me. He convinced me I was gay and no one would love me. He did things he knew my body would enjoy to keep me coming back. He seduced me to think only he could ever understand me. He twisted my reality and sense of self. He raped my mind just as much as he did my body.
I am so angry and enraged and there's nothing I can do about it.
I've had time to go through all the crazy thoughts. I'm not a violent person but I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about finding him and getting my own vigilante revenge. I thought about prosecution as well. I have been to the police sexual assault reporting website and just sat there thinking about what I would say.
I have patchy broken memories of abuse from 33 years ago, from a man who's name and face I can't remember and no physical evidence. Pointless.
The emotional toll this took on me nearly ended me and my marriage suffered horribly. I told my wife some of the things that happened to me and she had a breakdown and left me. My therapist and hers would explain that she was in emotional turmoil with vicarious trauma. It's alot to process that this person you love had this whole terrible part of their life you never knew about. (Tell me about it).
But she came back and with a lot of therapy we are doing better and more than that, know how to support one another.
Time it seems doesn't heal all wounds but a shit load of therapy will at least help you understand them.
