avoicewithin

Part of my life:
I am the youngest of 6. My mother had 2 miscarriages. One was so early they didn’t know if it was a boy or girl but the second miscarriage was a boy. He would have been about 3 years older than me. I have 3 sisters and 2 brothers. I lived with both parents. My dad was a carpenter and my mom was a homemaker. She would sale Avon sometimes. She also had several pieces of property with houses that she rented out. My mom was the piano player at the churches we attended.

My first memory of being sexually assaulted I was five years old. We were in the living room watching T.V. it was kind of cold and my oldest brother Darriel asked me if I wanted to get under the blanket with him to watch T.V., so I did and as soon as I was under the blanket with him he put his hand in my panties and started fondling me. He was hurting me. Why did he do it? I really didn't know what to think about him doing that. He was my older brother. I trusted him. He betrayed my trust. He hurt me. I did not want him to do those things to me but he would always tell me it was OK for him to do that. It didn't feel OK. It did not feel good to me, it hurt and I did not like him doing that. I wasn't under the blanket to long until my mother started yelling at me to get up and she spanked my butt. He did this several times and my mom would spank me. Was it my fault? To me this showed Darriel that he could do stuff like that and get away with it. Which he did. Darriel could do anything he wanted to do and my family would stick their head in the sand and excuse his behavior on his drug addictions. That was no EXCUSE for what he did to me. NO EXCUSE!!!! How could he do that to me? I was his baby sister, so small and trusting. He would say things to me like do you want me to cut you with my knife or slap the hell out of you. He was a sick pervert. He made me look at porn magazines before he raped me. I was his baby sister. He was 15 years older than me. Why did he do it?

It has taken many, many years to get to the point I am right now. I felt I could not trust any one. My secret was going to the grave with me, but I couldn't take it any longer. I felt I was slowly dieing inside and no one could see it but me because there wasn't anything physically wrong with me on the outside, they could not see how much I was dieing on the inside. I had to admit I needed help and that I couldn't handle this on my own any longer. I had isolated myself from the outside world. I felt like if I stepped outside I was putting myself in danger. I was scared that someone was waiting around the corner and if I walked past they would grab me and hurt me. I became very depressed and didn't realize that, that was what was wrong with me. I had lost all feelings. I was just here and didn't really understand why. I couldn't understand what was wrong with me. I was in pain and didn't understand why. I would take pain meds. to help relieve the pain. I would eat to help relieve the pain. I would hit myself in the stomach to help relieve the pain. I would cut so I could feel physical pain on the outside of my body so I wouldn't hurt inside. I would burn as well to feel pain on the outside to ease the pain on the inside. I gained 155 pounds. I felt I was singled out. I felt as if I had a huge sign on my back that said just take a piece of me everyone else has. I hated being that way. I felt so out of place. I felt in a daze. I was ashamed of myself. I felt dirty, disgusting, ugly, and no good. I was left wondering what my purpose was for being here in this world. I felt like a walking empty vessel, just taking up space. With all I went through I felt I didn't deserve anyone being nice to me and if they were nice sometimes I would cry because I felt I didn't deserve it.

I was scared of asking for help that I needed, wondering if I would be believed. I wanted to wake up out of that nightmare I was in. I wanted to know how I could escape the abuse I was going through. It seemed everywhere I turned I was being abused. I was told one time that is what girls were made for. Was it really? I didn't want that.

Darriel was only one of my perpetrators. He was the one who started my many years of cycled sexual abuse.

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