Fallen Angel's Story
Fallen Angel's Story
I don't know how old I was the first time it happened. I think I was 3 or 4 but can't really remember. I just remember it was my brother. He was only my half brother but still he was my blood. I didn't know what he was doing was wrong. I remember at times my mom would take me in the bathroom and ask me questions. She always looked like she was mad. I didn't want to get in trouble so I always said nothing happened. I tried to pretend that nothing happened until my brother would pull me in the bedroom all by myself.
I remember most stuff around age 8. I remember my brother having oral sex with me. He told me I tasted like spaghetti. He tried to stick it in me, but I was too small. He made me touch it. My brother was a very violent person. I was also afraid of him. I'd seen him beat my other brother horribly. I remember him kissing me. I remember feeling dirty. But before he was sent away, my dad's best friend Ted spent the night at our house. I don't know why since he lived only blocks away, but he did. I woke up to him slipping his hands under the covers and touching me. I was so scared. I knew my mom was next door and I knew she'd be mad. I saw the light click on and he jumped. My mom started screaming at him and my molesting older brother threw the new molester out the door. I wondered if he was jealous. My family sat around talking and staring at me for hours, and then I went to sleep. Then my oldest brother was sent away to live with the grandparents.
Then the younger brother whom he used to beat on took over. It was less violating. More touching but it didn't seem as severe. It went on until he started running away. I was glad when the brothers left. I hated it when they came to visit. I would hide in my room until they were gone. I didn't want to sit across the table from them. I felt fear and disgust. One day when I was 13 the younger brother came to visit. I believe he was around 18 at the time. I missed my brother and wanted to hang out with him. So watching TV he asked if I wanted a foot rub. I thought heck ya...and let him rub my feet. SLowly, rubbing my feet crept its way up my legs to my thighs. I got more and more nervous and when he stuck his hand up my shorts I screamed. I started yelling at him how he didn't love me. How he was sick and that he was my BROTHER. I started crying and he begged for me not to tell my mom. I didn't but I knew that I had finally stood my ground. I wasn't his to touch.
I've been through hell since then. At fifteen I overdosed on sleeping pills. At 23 I wrecked a car and got a DUI, I turned into a drug user then moved in with an abusive drug addicted loser. In the mean time I have stood up for myself saying that I would not take part in any family activity that they were a part of. My family freaked out. I stayed away for years. Finally I have forgiven my brothers, but really don't feel comfortable being around them. I see them occasionally at family gatherings and it's always a little wierd. One brother tries to tickle me and I can't help but wonder if he's trying to touch me. The other brother has a hard time meeting my eyes. I guess that I forgave them because the anger was killing me. Now I am drug free but am struggling with an alcohol addiction. I also am on medication for depression. I try everyday to be grateful for the day that I am given and for a wonderfully supportive man in my life. Sex is kind of a wierd thing for me. I think thats where the alcohol comes in. It makes me feel a little numb so that I don't feel ashamed of myself and can let go for a little while. The only problem is that the next day I feel worse. Today, I am sober 24 hours and am facing my demons. I've decided to embrace the life that I have left. Thank you RAINN for giving me a voice.
-Fallen Angel
When I was six years old my uncle locked me in my Grandmothers bathroom, pulled down my pants and stuck his fingers inside me. I was so afraid even at that early age I knew it was wrong for him to do that to me. He silenced me quickly by telling me that it was our secret and if I told no one would believe me.
That kind of thing happened every couple of weeks, whenever he could get me on my own. He would sit me on his knee and abuse me when my baby cousins were in the room. Then it changed. He made me perform sex acts on him. I had to touch his penis and then he would make me perform oral sex on him. If I tried to get away he would overpower me and thrust objects and his fingers into me until it hurt so much I could hardly walk.
He would rub his penis all over my body until he was ready to ejaculate and then he would cum on my face. If I cried he would hurt me again and again. I soon learned to control my crying so that it would be over sooner.
The older I got the worse the abuse became. My mind was tortured with knowing what he did was wrong but I was to afraid to say anything to anyone. When i was nine he tried to have sex with me but I was so afraid and so tiny that he could not manage to have full sex with me. He became so angry, he hit me. He told me if he couldnt do things to me then he would have to hurt my mother, he said I had to do better.
I honestly believed then that by keeping my silence I was protecting my mother from the same pain as I was suffering. I felt I was helping her.
The first time he raped me I think i was nearly ten years old. He forced me to perform oral sex on him, then he forced himself into me. When he had finished with me I was bleeding and in so much pain. He left me alone. I was shaking and crying. I put toliet paper in my knickers so I wouldnt bleed on my clothes, I thought the pain would last forever. I started throwing up and he came back. He stood over me and laughed and laughed.
When I started my periods at about twelve he said that it was ok because he couldnt make me pregnant. he could do what he wanted, when he wanted and there was nothing to do.
Every time he raped me part of me died. My uncle was destroying me. Inbetween the rapes he still made me perform sex acts on him some which even now I cant talk about. He used me as his person plaything until I was nearly 14 years old.
Im not sure if the way he made me feel was worse than the actual acts of abuse he inflicted on me.I would sit for hours in the bath in boiling water scrubbing myself. I tried so hard to make myself feel clean but it never worked. I could feel him on me, smell his breath and feel the pain. I always felt filthy.
My uncle had plenty of ways to justify what he did. He would tell me he was doing me a favour , that he was getting me ready to be a grown up. I learned never to argue back with him because it only ever brought more hurt, more pain.
He caused me to hate myself. I thought I was worthless. I began to cut myself with razors. I'd cut my arms, Legs and stomach. When I cut my pain eased alittle. Watching the blood run down my skin helped me feel so I did it more and more until I couldnt go a single day with Self harming. One day I was watching myself bleed and I knew I needed help.
I thought I needed to die. As far as I could see I had two choices I could kill myself and the pain would stop or I could tell and see what happened.
I took the first option. I swallowed handfuls of pills and went to bed. The next morning I woke up feeling ill and being sick. I thought then that mabe i wasnt ment to die.
I went to school and told a teacher. She believed me. I felt so free, I was scared but i knew then that I wasnt alone.
I've been sexual abused when I was seventee and raped when I was 19. Because it happened twice, for a long time I tought it was my own fault. Icouldn't talk about it, I couldn't even think about it cause my mind was putting the Immages away every time I even tried to. The first time it was some one I knew, he offered to drive me home, but when I ewas in the car he drove to another place, I was freezed for a long time. He said he was in love with me and He knew I was in love with him too. I,vve tried to reason with him, but that wasn't working. So he tried to rape me, I wwas froze because I was scared. Some how i maneged to get out of the car and I started to run, he came after me with his car, but I found a place to hide and I escaped. WhenI got home, my parents were gone. I was so glad they weren't there, cause I could never tell them what happened, that would be to umberracsent. After that I blocked it out of my mind, and my feeling, but I know now that You can't block out one Feeling, if You do that You black out all. So, I started to runlike I was hunted trough live, feeling nothing. I Started drinking, stopped going to school and went in to the Nightlive. It may sound wierd, but in the end when I was Eighteen I started to work as a prostitute, I was like addicted to the nightlife. I've had a lot of totlly strang and dangerous experience with what You can fill an entire book, so I won't write that all down. But when I was neinteen I had a boyfriend who was way older and he wanted me to work for him in the red lightdistric. I wasn't planning to work for some one els e then myself. This man was very dangerous, so a good Friend of me offered me to come on a vacation to Turkey (he was from Turkey himself). So I said Yes. We went by plane (I live in Holland), and when we came there we got in a Taxi and went to an Hotel. When we came in the Hotel he booked, I didn't understand the language, so I followed him. When we came in the Hotelroom I saw taht there was only one Bed, for the second time in my life I stood there frozen. Again I tried to reason with him. I t did not help. He was to strong and I was to Frozen with fear, and hen he Raped me. After that he started crying and said sory. I was so scared and felt so discusting. I didn't know Turkey at all and I did not know what to do, I tought that if I would go to the police they would send me to Jail, cause I was a woman. So, I just stood underneed the shower trying not to think. I sat on the chair in the room all night not knowing what to do. The next day he put me on the Bus to his relatives and I didn't see him anymore for the whole vacation, he wasn't in the plane when I left either. I was so relieved that I was back in Holland. I blamed myself the most, cause I was a prostitute anyways and I went with him to Turkey, and I should have known. So I put it away again. At some point I stopped doing drugs and stopped working as a prostitute and I got pregnant with my first child. I've been in therapy with social workers, psyciatrichs etc, nobodsy could help me. I told them a lot, but not about the rapes, so they tought that I had some mental Illnes. At one point I was arrested for something and then my mother who susppected something told the police she tought something happend to me. So the policeofficer started to ask me, what has happened. At first I said nothing, but he kept asking and then he said I had to th police who dealed with this kind of things. I sill don't know how that woman did that, but she got me crying about it for the first time of my life. She send me to the Fiom, that's an organisation in Holland who give therapy for women who have been sexualy insolted. Ther I started talking bit by bit. At first I told little, cause my mind still pushed it away, then the picture came back in my head. At firstI felt ashamed, dirty and weak. I tought it was my fault and was emberrased. After that I was embarresed to admit thart I didn't controle everything that happened to me, cause it's hard to say You couldn't controle something. After that all the feelings I didn't have anymore for all those Years started to came up. After I went trough all of that i learned to love myself, my self asteme went up, and even tough something terrible happened to me I've learned that I'm strong. Cause it was me and only me who got myself up out of the deep whole and coped with everything and learned to get to know me again. I'm now a mother of Two children, I'm twenty eight Years old now. My Daughter is ill, but I got strenght enough to take care of them. i even went so far that I got to a point that I forgave them. Cuse in the end, No matter how much they've taken away from me, How i may have felt, and how big the pain was. I'm still standig. And I reather have something been done to me, then if I was the one who something to some one else. Cause the quilt if You something terrible to some one else is almost to much to carry with You. And thats what they have to carry with them all of there life, it's a mentally load that will be heavy on their mind.
-Jetteke
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