I don't remember it. I don't remember who- but I have suspicions that I know. I remember a room- a very familiar room. The memory of this room has stuck in my mind for years, a dark, solid preying sort of memory. I don't remember anything that happened in that room, I just have this picture of it and the intense feeling that something happened there.
Something that I don't want to remember, but I can't even tell myself why. I know who's room it is. I know we moved out of that house when I was only eight years old. For years I've been telling myself that this memory is false, that the room I remember must have been in somebody else's house, but I don't know how to explain it, lately I have just known that this isn't true, that it was our house where it all happened.
I don't remember much of my childhood before eight or nine years old. What little I do remember is blurry- literally. I had terrible eyesight, but nobody figured that out until I was nine. I have a few vivid memories of playing sex games with a neighborhood boy who was a year younger than me- I would have been maybe six at the time.
I feel guilty, shameful, disgusting, dirty thinking about it. These were things no six year old has any business knowing about, let alone doing or coercing a five year old into doing. I'm disgusted with myself. I tried telling myself over the years that kids explore sexually and its normal, but after reading a few threads here on people who suffered abuse as children or who's children have suffered abuse, I've come to realize what I knew/did as a child was not a normal childhood behavior.
I will admit I've always had the suspicion/fear that it wasn't normal to know about those kinds of things. This was a wake-up call. There isn't a satisfactory answer for the question of why an otherwise normal and healthy six year old girl would know about those things. Only that I wasn't a normal or healthy six year old girl.
In my heart I believe that is because I was sexually abused, but part of me is terrified that I'm wrong and that really I was just a sick, demented child.
But I also remember always having a severe phobia of snakes, to the extent of not even being able to see one on tv without shaking uncontrollably, and I remember being plagued by nightmares of snakes when I was a kid. I've read here and other places that this might be another sign of childhood sexual abuse.
And In retrospect, I know that as a teenager and even in college I was severely depressed, although I didn't know it at the time. I went to school or classes, studied and went to bed. Laid in my bed literally all day. I had zero social life. Still have zero social life.
Realizing I've always been afraid of men. Not in a casual social setting, such as work. But when it's clear that a man is interested in me, I am scared and I back off so quick it must make his head spin to watch. None of my relationships, including with DS' father, have been normal or healthy. All of them have at least started out as casual sexual encounters, at least one of them years ago started to develop into a more normal and long term affair and I bolted so fast even I was surprised.
Now I'm terrified of the world, a kind of deep irrational fear. Fear of attack on me or on DS, fear of somebody raping me or abducting him. I feel a deep, boiling rage- and a deepeer shame- whenever I hear of a child being assaulted on the news. I can't fathom letting anyone near me or DS, can't fathom living anywhere alone where I'm not permitted to have a guard dog. I'm rambling now...
I don't know why I'm posting this- looking for validation for my suspicions, I guess. But fearing that people will brush it off and say that I'm imaging things, couldn't have been abused, and that I just was or am a sick person.
Terribly embarrassed to post this, but forcing myself to anyway. I've got to get this out, if nothing else. Thanks for listening.
Something that I don't want to remember, but I can't even tell myself why. I know who's room it is. I know we moved out of that house when I was only eight years old. For years I've been telling myself that this memory is false, that the room I remember must have been in somebody else's house, but I don't know how to explain it, lately I have just known that this isn't true, that it was our house where it all happened.
I don't remember much of my childhood before eight or nine years old. What little I do remember is blurry- literally. I had terrible eyesight, but nobody figured that out until I was nine. I have a few vivid memories of playing sex games with a neighborhood boy who was a year younger than me- I would have been maybe six at the time.
I feel guilty, shameful, disgusting, dirty thinking about it. These were things no six year old has any business knowing about, let alone doing or coercing a five year old into doing. I'm disgusted with myself. I tried telling myself over the years that kids explore sexually and its normal, but after reading a few threads here on people who suffered abuse as children or who's children have suffered abuse, I've come to realize what I knew/did as a child was not a normal childhood behavior.
I will admit I've always had the suspicion/fear that it wasn't normal to know about those kinds of things. This was a wake-up call. There isn't a satisfactory answer for the question of why an otherwise normal and healthy six year old girl would know about those things. Only that I wasn't a normal or healthy six year old girl.
In my heart I believe that is because I was sexually abused, but part of me is terrified that I'm wrong and that really I was just a sick, demented child.
But I also remember always having a severe phobia of snakes, to the extent of not even being able to see one on tv without shaking uncontrollably, and I remember being plagued by nightmares of snakes when I was a kid. I've read here and other places that this might be another sign of childhood sexual abuse.
And In retrospect, I know that as a teenager and even in college I was severely depressed, although I didn't know it at the time. I went to school or classes, studied and went to bed. Laid in my bed literally all day. I had zero social life. Still have zero social life.
Realizing I've always been afraid of men. Not in a casual social setting, such as work. But when it's clear that a man is interested in me, I am scared and I back off so quick it must make his head spin to watch. None of my relationships, including with DS' father, have been normal or healthy. All of them have at least started out as casual sexual encounters, at least one of them years ago started to develop into a more normal and long term affair and I bolted so fast even I was surprised.
Now I'm terrified of the world, a kind of deep irrational fear. Fear of attack on me or on DS, fear of somebody raping me or abducting him. I feel a deep, boiling rage- and a deepeer shame- whenever I hear of a child being assaulted on the news. I can't fathom letting anyone near me or DS, can't fathom living anywhere alone where I'm not permitted to have a guard dog. I'm rambling now...
I don't know why I'm posting this- looking for validation for my suspicions, I guess. But fearing that people will brush it off and say that I'm imaging things, couldn't have been abused, and that I just was or am a sick person.
Terribly embarrassed to post this, but forcing myself to anyway. I've got to get this out, if nothing else. Thanks for listening.
). I just didn't want to go to bed without posting a big thank you to all of you first.
along your way. That must be such a hard place to be in.
Thank you again, truly, for the kindness and respect you gave when you disagreed with me. I knew I might be posting something controversial - but I thought my viewpoint should be heard and the OP can either take it or leave it.
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