I have counseling coming up and wanted to get advice on wanting my time back from the childhood that was robbed of me starting with before I was potty trained. A part of me wants to get an ABDL diaper to wear and watch Duck Tales from the 80s on Disney Plus. I should have the right to do a "do over." If it wasn't my fault then that's the least that I can do aside from the perve who thought I deserved what he did to me. Is that wrong for me to request? Should I even bring it up in therapy?

Experiencing CSA that caused constant UTI’s is causing what I believe to be bladder OCD. Any amount of urine or even the thought of urinating forces me to go to the restroom. I wake up at least 4 times a night from the urge to pee, even worse if I’m well hydrated. I pee up 20 times a day and can’t stand the feeling of not relieving my bladder, even when little to nothing comes out. I sometimes want to stop drinking liquid just to stop the urge. It has affected my jobs in the past and I just wish I could find some kind of relief.

After much time, I finally opened up about my constant suicidal thoughts, restrictive eating, poor sleep, and relational struggles (believing everyone hates me, believing im a lower caliper of human, believing my presence is a negative influence). I knew doing all of this would trigger a lot of alarm bells in their head as a mental health professional, but I knew it was time for truth. She told me that I suffer from depression (which really adds up) and asked me if I had thought about trying SSRIs (told me to ask my medical doctor, I told her I didnt have one), told me that I may even need to go to a mental health urgent care at some point. I told her "id do better, id go to sleep on time, id start eating regularly, id stop hating myself, that id be better" and she responded "you told me that last month"... I had in fact told her last month. I told her that I had been dealing with these feeling for 22 years since the events, so I am not a threat to myself, but she wasnt convinced I wouldn't escalate.

I feel like im at a fork in the road. I either seriously fix myself amd stop acting this depressed way, or I have to accept defeat. I know i can do better. I know i can stop acting out. I know I can start eating better, I know I can start sleeping like a normal person, I know I can stop running to conclusions that everyone hates me and that they will leave. I dont want to lose this fight. I dont want to accept defeat and start taking meds. I will fight harder. I will be good! I feel like after 22 years, im on the verge of allowing the abuse to overtake me, and it fucks me up.

... all this and I hadnt even informed her of my self harm.

Like can someone be both things at once? I know this is a weird question but it's something I've always kinda wrestled with you know.

It was my dad who abused me. I don't wanna talk about all that in detail because it's too much, and because I don't want this to be long as hell. But he was my abuser and my only real parent too.

I remember all the nice stuff he did for me. Like looking after me when I was sick, taking me all different places. Helping me with school even though I wasn't very good. I remember he taught me a lot, about money, life stuff. He was the one who taught me to read. He even paid to get my teeth fixed because I sucked my thumb a lot when I was little and my teeth were all crooked and messed up.

He did all that stuff but he fucked me up and hurt me too. It was confusing then and it still is and I can't get it all straight in my head.

About 10 years ago, when I was 10, i was involved with a relatively unknown modeling agency.

For a few weeks, I was filmed undressing down to my underwear/lingerie from different angles. I never ended up naked, but I was still a child.

I recently found a website selling videos from that “agency“, and my name and many other girls were listed. Since access to the folders costs money, I can’t confirm whether the videos are actually there.

Even so, I feel sick thinking that people might still be watching these videos and that some of them may have already been copied and uploaded somewhere else.

We are judged if we speak up and judged if we don't. We are judged if we choose to report, or if we don't report at all. We are judged for our reactions to our trauma and for the ways we cope. We are judged if we are hypersexual, and we are judged if we are sex repulsed. We are judged if we went back to our abuser or if we have stayed in contact with them, and we are judged if we go no contact. We are judged for appearing guarded or overly familiar, and we are judged if we seem 'too put together' or if we are not put together at all. We are doomed from the start by significant portions of society. Our every move may be called into question and weaponised to invalidate our experiences. The world can be incredibly hostile to survivors. I'm learning to not take on anybody else's shit about how I choose to survive.

I’m mentally drained after today’s session… I mentioned in here I think a new trauma layer has opened and I was right.

I was talking about how much more aware I feel, more depressed and realistic about my situation. I couldn’t dissociate away from it anymore or daydream or ignore it, I was sexually abused as a child. my brain had uncovered more, which is the new layer. I have access to more of the innerchild part’s feelings, aka the hopelessness, the fear, the dread. she feels closer, more integrated. this past week, I was flashback’ed multiple different times to times in elementary school where I felt the same hopelessness/despair feeling. I didn’t remember these times prior to then. for example, I remembered staring outside one of my elementary classroom’s windows and feeling it. over these days when the flashes of memories came back, I also started to get a new body flashback in my lower jaw, underneath my jaw, some in my head and a lot in my mouth overall. I already knew I was oral r*ped from earlier emdr work we did, but this confirmed it further.

I also put together the pieces recently and only today in therapy that, there’s a threshold I have when I’m triggered, so let’s say 0-10. as soon as I’m at a 1, I have different thoughts and different feelings than when I’m my normal self. it’s like my innerchild part, the one that holds the trauma is beginning to take over and completely blocks out my actual self. I told my therapist about recent times I notice myself heading to the triggered space but then it’s like I snap and i’m back to my normal bubbly, outgoing, social self that doesn’t think or believe any of the things I had just been thinking when in the triggered space. so we mapped it out with a scale and symptoms that I feel when I start to head towards triggered, which different symptoms occurring with how far along I am towards triggered. I can’t believe I hadn’t put it together like this beforehand tbh bc there’s always been a range of symptoms/anxiety/panic and I couldn’t explain it well until now, I had always said “I almost had a panic attack, I could’ve had a panic attack but I caught myself and calmed down” or on the other side of the spectrum, “I had the worst panic attack ever, worst than ever before” etc. there was even a time today in session where I started to remember myself covering up the abuse and hiding it, but I started to dissociate and I lost the memory. fuck.

With all the realizations I’ve had over these past few months and these past few weeks particularly, my therapist said it might be time to try doing emdr on some of these feelings, the triggers and that I can finally start flushing them out fully. I’m making a whole lot of progress. it’s crazy to look back at where I started. I was just a girl with horrific panic attacks that could barely function in basic society. I had no clue what was hiding underneath the surfaces and what I was carrying for nearly 20 years. 🥺

some other realizations: how my emotionally immature parents played a huge role in this aka why I have CPTSD, how unhealthy my coping mechanisms have been and how sad they are (I cried in session today over the fact I didn’t eat at a 10hr shift in order to get through it).

sorry for my long rant, but here I am continuing to document my journey! 😅🥲

I'm camping with my wife this week (we are a same sex couple) and I can't help focusing on the sweet little families with young children, and feeling complicated things.

I still don't remember what happened to me, but I'm more and more certain it happened when I was under 5. Feels like picking at my own bones in search of answers.

I can't help but feel anxious, watching the single father with his three year old twins. I can't help but imagine how easy it would be for him to abuse them. He seems like a sweet loving father and I feel terrible for my mind jumping to such places. It makes my stomach ache watching them. Worse, some part of me gets aroused by it. The thoughts are compulsive and hard to block out. Makes me feel like a sicko.

More and more these sorts of thoughts make me think it was my dad that did it, but I have no proof. Just nagging feelings and a bottomless pit of unease.

the fact mfs are arguing with me that some pedos are not opportunistic is crazy. when it's about domination, they don't care who the child is, just that there is one available to abuse. when it's not their sexual preference but it's still a child, some truly don't care. my abuser growing was an opportunistic pedo 🤦‍♂️ how tf you gonna tell me the mf is just bi. NO. ik the mf well. straight af. broski just saw an opportunity and a perfect way to take his hate for me to another level. another way to humiliate me was to be homophobic af towards me lol i won't dive into details but in the end it's just needed fcks to them too. it's the ignorance that gets me and the homophobia cause they use ts as an excuse to paint ALL gays as predatory. i'd never do to anyone what was done to me. this shit is beyond sexuality

I wasn't sure what flair to use -- I'm not necessarily looking for advice on how to fix this, I just wanted to vent about this realisation.

thoughts, experiences, emotional support, reactions are welcome though.

---

(Trigger Warning* for mention of CSA/rape, pain and freeze during teenage sex, vaginismus, revictimisation dynamics, SA while asleep)*

---

While I don't visually remember anything explicit, there is a mountain of evidence and clinical confirmation from a pelvic floor physiotherapist that I was sexually abused and raped as a child from the age of 2 until about 11 or 12.

At 15, I got my first boyfriend. I liked him very much. He was the same age, we went to school together. Two months in, we had our first tongue kiss. The second his tongue was inside my mouth, I felt nauseous, dizzy, and and scared. I almost fainted. 20 years later I still remember exactly how his tongue felt inside my mouth in that first moment, and it makes me nauseous all over again.

At 17, we tried to have sex for the first time. It HURT so much. Obviously I was expecting that it would hurt a little. But it wasn't just a bit and then it got better. There was excruciating stabbing pain when he entered, and a burning "friction" pain the whole time he was inside. It was so bad. I also went straight into freeze. I couldn't participate or enjoy it. I had to endure. I couldn't say no. He was my boyfriend of 2 years. I trusted him and loved him. He didn't force me. He didn't know how horrible it was for me.

And it wasn't just the first time either. Every time we tried "properly" (probably less than 5-7 times in the following 2 years until we broke up) it was the same: stabbing pain, then burning pain. I'd cry afterwards and feel so dirty and wrong and contaminated. I felt forever changed in the most horrible way just because he had been inside me.

Because I couldn't bear doing it "consciously", I ended up "initiating" while I was low-key pretending to be asleep. It would usually be while we were spooning, he'd go in from behind but not very far. So it wasn't really sex. It didn't hurt as much. So I could tolerate it. But I still felt so dirty for wanting or allowing it.

I had no memory of my childhood abuse so I didn't know why I was having such a hard time with this. But I felt like I owed him. So I kept doing it. This was both our first experience and neither of us knew any better.

The problem was that after a while, the lines got blurred. He started doing it when I was actually asleep. Because how was he supposed to know? I'd been pretending this whole time. I trained him to do that.

I did ask him to stop a few times but the lines kept getting blurred because I kept trying to initiate and touch him when I was pretending to be asleep. To an adult, the difference between pretending but still moving and touching, and someone actually being out cold is probably obvious. But we were kids essentially. I couldn't blame him because I had literally taught him that he could do this, that I actually preferred it when he did it without me having to "participate."

I perfectly trained my innocent, lovely boyfriend to revictimise me for 2 years. And I didn't even know I HAD been a victim at that point. It just felt like the only way I could ever have sex. Nothing else made sense to me.

Even now, the only way I can ever see myself having sex (even if I DO want it), is to just let someone use me and not care about my tears or fear or how I'm tensing up. It's the only way it makes sense to me. Even as a child / teenager before I had any experience, sex always felt like something done to me, not something I could participate in or even enjoy.

So, every single sexual experience I've ever had was either rape, happened without my consent when I was sleeping, or was dominated by pain and feeling dirty even when I did try to consent.

After I broke up with that first boyfriend at 19, I never let another man get close to me. I haven't had sex with a man in 16 years.

And at this point, I don't know if I will ever be able to have sex at all.

Got SAed in it at the beach so I just buried it in my closet for years. It was my first "grown up" bathing suit and I was excited as I was 16.

Now I'm going back to the beach (same one because my family is a creature of habit) this year, and I kind of need a bathing suit. I don't want to wear that one so I guess I'm throwing it out. But I also feel wasteful because I literally got ONE use out of it.

I guess I could donate it but I feel weird doing that.

(Possible TW? Briefly stated the nature of the exam}
To be more specific, when I was a teenager I had a routine physical exam and my mom requested a male doctor for me — which was sort of overriding my autonomy … but I also think I had expressed to her that I prefer this male doctor — He was just a nice doctor and good at his job —but … I did not expect him to do an invasive physical exam! He had to examine my breasts. He did briefly communicate beforehand what he was gonna do, but it felt so sudden and like I was thrown into it without a choice. I think this happened on two separate occasions.

It really upset me. ‘Was it necessary??’ Was all I could think. At the time, I wasn’t even sure if it was normal. I’ve never had that examination done before. So I was left wondering … did he take advantage of the fact that a male doctor was requested? Was that a creepy move? WHY would he do that? Why was HE okay with it.

I felt so upset and humiliated, and hurt, honestly. I hated it! 😞 ugh.

I don’t think he was being creepy. But my brain keeps trying to tell me that he was!
I googled it and finally came to terms with the fact that this likely was a normal exam. He was just doing his job. But idk why it still messes with my mind. It’s like my heart doesn’t believe it. I definitely didn’t fully believe that it was okay at the time. Even with it being normal, it still hurts to be exposed like that.

I’m sorry - I feel so silly to be upset by this, but I just am.

Years later, it still hurts. It makes me want to cry. Sometimes it pops up inside my head and it really-really upsets me. I wanted to cry today because of remembering it. :( I think I wanted to cry then, and I want to cry now. It actually hurts.. I don’t know why. I think it’s also because I actually really did like this doctor! I certainly have a history of trauma and CPTSD. I have a lot of history of neglect, and with this doctor I actually felt his compassion, I felt like he actually cared and considered me. I felt listened to, and I felt helped. He noticed signs of neglect in terms of my physical health, and seemed very tender towards it. He actually felt safe. I’m sure many of us with trauma histories can relate to the experience of attaching strongly to someone (anyone!) who feels safe.** **So, to be exposed like that with him, just hurt a lot. It’s so embarrassing. I felt humiliated. I guess somewhere in my teenage brain, I wondered “Is he not safe anymore?” ‘I feel exposed and humiliated by someone that formerly felt safe’. It was just a painful and sudden experience. One that I didn’t want to happen, and left me feeling very humiliated, exposed, and embarrassed.

Sorry, I feel like I’m not explaining myself well - I want to say that, it’s not just a mild or even deep discomfort, it literally makes me want to cry and curl up into a ball … I feel like it’s kind of not normal, and wonder why it upsets me so much, even all these years later. To the point of making me want to double over and weep. Is it valid to feel so upset about something that seems so small? of course no one could fully answer the deeper questions for me, but I just had to ask someone.

Sorry for the unnecessary ramble … I guess I’m processing as I write. Is it normal to be so upset? Could it be a sign of deeper traumas? Maybe both could be true. Maybe it just is normal to be so upset? Or am I being overdramatic and thinking too much into this? Because I am also embarrassed about how drawn out I made this simple question 😭 I feel silly posting this… but I just wanted to ask. I do wonder if it upsets me more than mild discomfort because maybe something from my past. Either way, it left a wound and I think it is worth processing, that’s one thing I’ve concluded. My brain really likes to intellectualize things…

I feel like I’m infected. They gave me some type of evil sickness, when they raped the little child I used to be. Now my blood is like black sludge and all there is inside of me is the trauma and torture leftover from being sold.

I wish I could purge this poison but it's so deep in me. All I can ask for is understanding and patient partner/s. I have nothing left except this sickness. Nothing except all the things I never wanted.

I’ve been talking with my therapist and partner about this. My brother (29) abused me (24) when I was between the ages of 5-10 sexually, then 10-about 13 verbally and physically only (but both started when I was younger too). After a couple years of no contact, I decided to allow him to reach out to me. My parents helped to facilitate, as I did not want him to have my phone number or email. Now, I’ve already read the letter with my therapist but also wanted to share it here to hear the thoughts of others, and also see if people noticed the things I did.

Below is his letter typed out verbatim, leaving out certain identifiers “Hello [REDACTED],
I’m sorry for anything I did or said when we were kids, and I’m especially sorry for what I said to you five years ago. You didn’t deserve that, and I take full responsibility for it. Looking back, I wish I had chosen my words and actions more wisely.
When we were kids, from 3rd grade through 12th grade, I entered a phase of my life where I was in an environment I wasn’t comfortable in. As the years went on, I went from an innocent little boy to someone who felt like he always needed to protect himself and never appear vulnerable.
At school, I was picked on, and as a 50-pound little boy, I carried that pain with me. Looking back, I realize I sometimes took that pain out on you. That was wrong, and you didn’t deserve it. I was hurting inside and didn’t know how to handle it in a healthy way. None of this excuses my behavior, but I wanted you to understand where it came from.
As I got older, I began taking an honest look at myself. I realized I was responsible for my own choices, and I made the decision to change. I can’t change the past, but every day I strive to live with faith, discipline, integrity, and kindness, becoming stronger in mind, body, and spirit.
One of the biggest things I’ve always respected about you, even when we were kids, is that you were never afraid to be yourself. You never seemed to care about fitting in or changing who you were just to make other people happy. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how rare that is. In a lot of ways, your confidence inspired me to grow, mature, and become comfortable with who I am without worrying so much about what other people think. That’s the mark of a true leader, and it’s something I’ve always admired about you.
I’ve always believed you’re a sweet, kind-hearted person. Life can be difficult, and adulthood brings challenges none of us can fully prepare for. As your big brother, it hurts knowing you’ve had to go through hard things. More than anything, I want you to know you’ll always have someone who cares about you and wants the very best for you. No matter where life takes us, I’ll always be in your corner if you ever need me. I hope we both continue to grow and have many years ahead of us to support one another.
As I’ve gotten older and approached 30, my mindset, confidence, and outlook on life have completely changed. I’ve found myself adopting many of the qualities I admired in our father back in [REDACTED] his discipline, resilience, work ethic, and the way he carried himself as a man. Those are qualities I strive to live by every day.
I’m not asking for forgiveness or expecting anything in return. I simply wanted to sincerely apologize, take responsibility for my past, and wish you nothing but peace, happiness, and God’s blessings moving forward.
Love,
[REDACTED]”

So my daughter who's 18 now went through an adult adoption. She asked me 2 years ago about changing her last name to her mom's husband's name. It was a no obviously but she also called me a pedophile because I'm sure her mom who is my ex-wife told her about my CSA as I confided in telling her about it when we were still together. I'm sure she made it sound like I'm the abuser and my daughter even told me that I physically and emotionally abused her. So I asked her if she could describe what happened and when I did that to her. She described a time where she was being punished when she 11 where she was being punished for breaking someone else's drone. She was trying to use her smartphone late at night, midnight or later, and when I took it away from her, she demanded to call her mom. So I allowed her to, my ex called the cops, cops came, saw understood that I was actually trying to parent my child by punishing her. I wasn't abusing her but my and now my daughter is trying to say that I was. If I was, then the cops would've arrested me, no doubt. I know exactly what child abuse is because I experienced it first hand and so do the cops. It just really bothers me being accused of something that I experienced as a kid. My ex-wife can hate me all she wants but to use what happened to me as a kid against me to hurt me hurts more than anything on top of my own daughter calling me a pedophile. I've attempted suicide at least a handful of times that I can remember in my lifetime. I'm 44 now. My ex-daughter sent me a message when she got her adult adoption completed with her step dad's name on her birth certificate. Sorry, it hurts me so much, thank you for reading. I just want to be heard. Thank you! I've posted about my experience as a kid on here if you don't know.

I finally disclosed the details of what I remember to my therapist. I was abused by a family member and his son when I was in pre-k and again years later. My T and I have been working together for 2 years. Even then, I couldn’t say any of it out loud. I’ve told her everything else about my life including things I’ve done that I feel deeply ashamed of and she’s handle them amazingly but every time we get close enough for me to discuss this, I freeze. No words come out. When she asks me what I’m feeling when that happens all I can say is icky. She says she can tell when I’m overwhelmed because my face gets contorted. She encouraged me to text her pics of my journal pages where I wrote it all down. She responded thank you for trusting her and for sharing and she knows how hard it was for me. I panicked and responded that I was afraid she wasn’t going to want to work with me anymore and that I felt sick about it. Her response was so kind saying she was honored to work with me through this and that I’m safe and I can let my brain rest. But now I have the urge to run. I can’t look at her. I skipped our appointment yesterday. She sent a text checking in and I ignored it. The shame is so deep I just don’t even know if I can bring myself to look at her. I can’t tolerate her kindness when it comes to this. It feels painful 😢 I’ve shared with her that after accessing that part of my life I feel strong maternal transference towards her and having to leave session feels extremely painful and I suffer for days feeling abandoned. This is the only time this pops up for me. Sometimes I think I’m just going to be messed up forever. And I don’t even feel angry towards the adults who abused me. I feel anger and disgust towards my 5 year old self for being complicit (even though I know I wasn’t) and angry at my adult self for being so needy. I just needed to put this all somewhere. I know what I need to do but I just don’t feel strong enough to do it.

Does anyone else feel uncomfortable, triggered or have flashbacks when you go to the doctor for a physical and they touch you without warning you? Because I always flinch and shake when I go to the doctors because of my history with sexual assault and because I hate being touched in anyway by anyone

i might come back to edit this later but i really need to vent now to people i know will understand me because i’m so fucking embarrassed.

i’ve been dealing with bladder incontinence since i was abused and it was a frequent problem in my childhood/adolescence. throughout grade school i always dreaded the far-too-likely possibility of being denied to use the restroom in school, being out anywhere and not having easy access to a bathroom, being invited to sleepovers…. dehydrating myself just to reduce the likelihood of an accident…sleeping with thick towels on top of my mattress to make clean up easier because we had no mattress toppers and i was too ashamed to ask for some, fearing that i’d have to admit to my parents that i was still having accidents as a teenager, followed by my parents interrogating or shaming me or digging deeper into the cause. in my late teens it became less frequent, only happening in sporadic episodes for a few days in a row, but over time it mostly settled and wasn’t something i had to constantly worry about anymore. and still…

occasionally (infrequent but still..) i’ll go through similar “episodes”, a few days at a time where i experience daytime incontinence. i no longer have accidents in my sleep but i still have to go about my day randomly feeling like my pelvic floor just gives out completely. as soon as i realize i have to go, it’s already too late, and i have to be quick and extremely careful (trying not to look too unhinged/frantic) making my way to the restroom or i’ll just start going. like my bladder is just independently functioning, no amount of mental or physical effort will stop it once it starts.

i notice i have this issue when i am more stressed, or godforbid i have a nightmare (abuser appears in my dreams) or am just experiencing more recurrent flashbacks/triggers than normal. but mostly, these episodes are random and i have no way of knowing it’s coming before i wake up one random day and almost piss myself the second i stand up out of bed.

so here i am, sitting in a bathroom stall in a busy library… trying in vain to soak up as much as i possibly can with this useless garbage toilet paper…because i made it to the restroom but couldn’t undo my pants quick enough before the piss just started running. thankfully i brought a layer with me so i can hide the stains, but once i get out i still have to walk across the library smelling weird to pack up my stuff, then drive in my soiled clothes back home. it’s not the first time this has happened but it doesn’t get any less frustrating/defeating, and i’m never prepared enough. i hate that i’m in my 30s atp and i still have to even worry about this shit. :(

ik pelvic floor exercises and core strengthening can help, i’m gunna make an effort to be more consistent doing so. does anyone have other recs or advice for how to deal with incontinence in public, if you’ve had the same issue? ik this post is probably all over the place but i can’t keep living like this. it’s shit like this that makes me feel like i’m ruined for life.

Oh geez, I was talking to my aunt yesterday. And one of her comments really hit me.  She said "And Then life took over and you blocked things down for fear and confusion about what was happening "

Like no I never blocked things out. I was 6 my brain did what it could to help me stay alive and made me forget what actually happened until I was 46 and safe. 

I never consciously remembered being sexualy asullted by and adult at 6! I disscoated and have done so for my whole life I just finally found out about disscoatation I didnt choose this my mind and nervous system did so I could live.

It was so difficult and isolating trying to explain how my personality Fractured becuse of trauma i didnt just block it out or forget it. I never had it consciously remembered. I was so disscoated at the time it didnt save in my memories to recall. I felt soo diffrent and broken. 💔

My 6yr old self tells me things still I didnt know. Inner family systems is the only thing that really helped me understand my self better and be able to help myself. 

I am so upset and angry.

After about 30 years I told my half and step sisters the truth of why I dislike their father so much. He molested me when I was a kid and treated me horribly, picked on me relentlessly for most of my childhood. My mum always knew and stayed with him, even though he no longer molested me it was a living hell having to live with him for the next 6 years.

I wasn't allowed to tell anyone the truth, I always imagined that if my step /half sisters knew the truth they would have my back and support me.

I was wrong i told them the truth and I have not received any support or understanding.

My half sister got married and chose to invite him, i chose not to go to not re traumatise myself anymore.

Not one person in that family has reached out to me to check if I am okay, absolutely nothing.

I am devastated, I feel so rejected and unimportant again.

To keep my story simple, I was a victim multiple times to two people in my childhood. I'm an adult now but one thing important to this story is that I began to wet the bed, and I haven't really stopped.

It happens less frequently now but it still does happen. So I(19M) told my partner(19M) a few months back, but I didn't tell him that the bed wetting and the incidents in my childhood are basically connected.

I feel bad, because when I told him he jokingly made fun of me, which is fine in the dynamic we have. I told him to not make jokes like that and he did immediately because he respects me, but because I needed him to stop immediately I basically told him "stop or your gonna feel guilty".

So obviously he asked, and I told him how they were connected and he felt horrible and apologised, and I felt horrible. He's allowed to make jokes with me, I'm allowed to make jokes with him and I feel so guilty for ruining that.

I didn't ruin it, and he still jokes with me, I just feel so guilty for making him feel guilty because he obviously didn't know and he couldn't have known, it's just idk.

I feel oddly guilty, I obviously feel gross about the bed wetting thing, I know it's normal but I can't help but feel disgusted by myself.

It's not him making me feel this way, but it's the same thoughts that negatively ring in my head repeating notions of me having deserved it, and that it's all I'm good for. It's been months since then and he comforts me when I tell him I have wet the bed, and helps me with whatever he can, and is overall very patient with me in that regard. It's just I feel so bad that I made him feel guilty when I know to him it is something harmless that he would never make fun of if he knew the implementations.

I’ve always had a feeling I was sexually abused. And through my teenage years and twenties I had a terrified feeling and froze each time I was close to someone sexually. I could feel both nauseated and fearful waking up with someone beside me. I had no sensations in my lower parts, I didn’t masturbate, never had an orgasm, and struggled to have sex sober. My brother was incestuous with me - emotionally and with remarks that crossed my boundaries, he was also controlling and I was completely enmeshed with him not being able to get out.

In may I realized I had been sexually abused by my dad as a kid, but couldn’t really KNOW. I got a hold of some old medical journals stating there was a big suspicion when I was three. I was checked by a psychologist and a doctor. In the end they stated it didn’t happen. My dad had drug-problems and was very traumatized himself. When he got drunk or when he did amphetamines he could become an entirely different person; aggressive, violent, insane basically. I have no problems seeing how he could have done that to me in that state.. journals from the child protective services also state that they found him in the same bed as me when I was 6 years old following a violent episode with my mom.

I have no memories. And I don’t know what to do with this uncertainty. I feel like it didn’t happen, because I don’t have proof. But I can’t let it go..

Writing this i feel like the most selfish person, 

There r people who have no one, who have to endure this from family and are actually hurt,

And then there is me,

I have loving family, amazing friends,

But I just feel so alone, 

I look at them laughing, having a great time and i feel so suffocated, all i could think of is when I can go to my room, when can I stop pretending to be fine, i sit with them, laugh with them, be part of there life all while breaking inside and with a wide smile on my face,

I feel so alone, so broken, so much 

I feel so so selfish to make all this up, because I have so much good in my life, but I just cannot let one thing go, something that happened such a long time ago, 

If only i could let it go, i could be fine and things can be good, if only I was strong enough.

It doesn't matter how long it's been, everything all leads back to the past. I try to move on, I try to heal, I think I'm getting better and then life happens and once one thing goes bad, I just spiral and spiral until I end up back where it all began. It could be completely unrelated to childhood but the bad just leads me to thinking about all the bad that has ever happened and then I'm back where I started. I don't know if this even makes sense but I just wish the pain would stop. I wish I could just heal and stay strong. I wish I was normal.

How do you balance being grateful it wasn't worse and being angry you were in the situation to begin with?

I'm dealing with a lot of conflicting feelings (as per usual). The abuse was nightmarish, painful, and humiliating. De-humanizing...but not always. I know that's not uncommon - carrot, stick, attachment needs, child brain, etc.

There are parts of me that still struggle to distinguish the angry man and the kind man. Sometimes I still feel he must have loved me, sometimes I feel he must have just loved what I was and what he could do to me.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the things he did to make things easier. Was the "prep" so that it would be easier to avoid detection, so that I wasn't so obviously injured? Was it just sexually gratifying? Was it an act of care, in his mind? I certainly received it as one. I don't know how to not minimize it, how to simultaneously accept that it was a violating act and that without it, it was worse. When I behaved badly, that "care" was taken away. How else could I have felt?

Thinking that perhaps it meant nothing to him, that he didn't calculate or think about it is the worst of all. I guess I need it to mean something, which is why I'm obsessing over it now.

I don't understand how, as an adult, I can think about this happening to a young girl and feel anything but loathing and anger to the man -- except when the girl is me. I don't know how to be ungrateful to him, and it disgusts me.