This is a story that I think touches a topic that hasn't really been discussed, its anonymous so like always leave your encouraging comments and I'm sure the person will read em :D
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Peanutty,
I don't know how to really say this but I feel that your story and the stories from others will give me the courage to admit what I have been hiding and lying to myself about all these years. First, you said that everyone deals with these things in their own way and with that being said I hope that you can understand how Ihave dealt with my issues.
I am a sex addict. I am insecure and feel like I do not deserve the wonderful man that I have been blessed with for the past 7 years. When I was 6 or 7 ( honestly I cannot remember which) My mother was married to my 2 younger brothers father, Mark, She worked nights at a casino about 30 mins away from home. I am not Marks daughter, my mother married him when I was 2 and she got pregnant with my little brother. I do not remember details about what happened with him because I have pushed them all the way back for years. I do remember him coming to my room and telling me that he wanted me to sleep in "mommys bed" I remember him telling me that I shouldnt tell mommy because she would be mad at me. I remember having waffles for breakfast the next morning and that it hurt to put on pants so I wore my favorite skirt. and I remember when my mom asked me and my little brothers how we slept the night before.
The boys had their mouths full of waffles but I wasnt hungry so I told her that "dad" put his tongue in my mouth. I remember the sound of the plate in her hand falling and shattering on the floor. She yelled at the boys to go to their room and grabbed me by the arm yanking me out of my chair. I felt so bad that mommy was mad at me and scared that she was going to punish me. She planted me on the couch and told me to tell her everything. as I said I have blocked it out so strongly now I cannot remember everything. but I remember telling her and hearing her tell me that I was a liar and that she was goiong to send me away. She took me across the street to my papaws house and told him to watch me. The next thing that I remember is my Papaw yelling at my mother because i told him what happened when he asked why I was crying. He took me to the hospital where they lifted my skirt and poked at me. I remember going to court and seeing a therapist, but I dont remember much other than that. Not until I was 9, I remember coming home from school and walking into my house to find a man that looked like Mark. He smiled at me and I screamed "hes not supposed to be here, mommy make him leave" I ran out of the house to my papaws and told him that "Mark" was at my house and he needed to leave. But it was not Mark his name was Ben and my mom married him 1 month later. I didnt like him and I didnt trust him and I made sure that he knew that.
Now before I continue I must let you know that when I was little I would curl my pointer finger and suck on it in my sleep while pressing blue jean material to my face. the therapist said that is was a type of security for me. now at the age of 24 I still do and cannot seem to break the habit. So with that out there I will continue.
one night while my mom was working night shift at waffle house, Ben snuck into my room and I woke up to him moving my blankets around. when I sat up and screamed at him he said that he was just trying to take the jeans from me. but I didnt trust him. I remember numerous times that he did that before he decided he stopped just looking.
that continued from the time I was 10 until I was 12. between those years I never said anything, I didnt want my mom to hate me any more that she already did. and she can deny it as much as she wants but I can see it in her eyes and I hear the way she talks about me when I leave the room. There is contempt in her voice. When I was 12 she left Ben, she moved to a different state with my little brothers, leaving me with my aunt. I love my aunt, who is a very kind, christian southern lady.But I didnt listen to anything she had to say, I was stubborn and determined that if my father didnt love me enough to stick around and my mother hated me enough to run away, then no one could love me. I started sneaking out with my friends and drinking, smoking pot, cigarettes, doing drugs anything that would help me forget. of course it didnt help me forget and ended up scarring me even more one night when I drank too much and my bestfriends boyfriend and her got into a fight. I had just shot up and was laying on the couch, even messed up I cant forget this
Ash had run out because they were fighting again and he came a sat on the couch. I felt his hand on my leg and pushed it off. but he couldnt take a hint. In a drug induced stupor I couldnt do much of anything so when he jumped on me I pushed at him to no avail. I told him to stop as he took off my pants, I tried to kick him, I even went as far as to try getting off the couch but my legs were numb and that just made him laugh. I remember that laugh, oh how I hate it. then I was on my stomach and he said, "that works for me too, you know. if thats how you want it I wont complain" I felt his hands on me his breath in my ear and his lips on my neck. But I also felt helpless, I couldnt get away, I couldnt scream because my face was being pushed into a couch pillow.and it hurt, I was 14 and instead of being smart enough to stay out of those situations I had done nothing but put myself in the perfect position for it to happen again and it did. once he was tired of that he fliped me over and shoved it into my mouth. making me choke and cry. I dont know how long it went on I was in and out of consciousness due to the drugs but I remember when it stopped. Ash walked in and started screaming at us. she slapped me and called me a whore, a backstabber and any other name she could think of. I took the blame, she wouldnt believe that he had raped me. he told her that I threw myself at him when she stormed out. there was nothing I could do, I shotup again and passed out. when I woke up Ash and that POS was gone.
I didnt even realize that Ihad a problem until my friend Jake took me and locked me in his dads apartment. He told me that he loved me and that he wasnt letting me leave until I was off the drugs. when I got the shakes he put me in an ice bath(clothes on and all), when I fought him to get out he held me down and told me that I was better than this and that when it was over he would take me to IHOP for waffles. (my fav food, funny but not right.) we spent 3 days holed up in the apartment before I got any sense of myself back. and I cried and cried he just held me, brushed my hair and told me it would get better. He NEVER touched me inappropriately. After I understood that he had saved me from myself I asked about my aunt and his dad, did they know? He said that he called my aunt and told her that I was going with him to a soccer meet in baton rouge for the weekend and that I would be home on tuesday. his dad was on a business trip and wouldnt be home until friday. I dont know what I would have done without him at that point in my life.
I moved to be with my brothers and my mom about 3 weeks later and met my boyfriend.
Now I am 24 and the only man I have willing given myself to is my boyfriend and father of my son. He would never do anything to hurt me and while he doesnt know everything he understands that I have issues that run deep. He doesn’t question me when I tell him I need him to hold me really close and tight when we make love. But he doesn’t know that all I think about is sex. He doesn’t know that I really wish he would hold me down and make me do whatever he wants. I don’t understand why I am so fucked up and I wish that there was something that I could do to make these thoughts go away but I can’t. Secretly, I hate myself but to everyone else I am the picture of happiness. I make everyone think that I am stupid, some dumb blonde girl with no common sense. But really, I am so smart and I am afraid of others knowing it and then being disappointed when I don’t meet their expectations. I don’t ever want anyone to look at me like my mother does. I don’t want anyone to see how hurt I really am and how messed up the thoughts are in my head so instead of letting them see, I play stupid. If I was an actress I would have a million Oscars. I am just not brave enough to be honest with my friends or even the man that I love. An after seeing how you and the other survivors had the courage to tell anyone else their story I finally decided to open up and let someone else see how truly messed up I am.
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Part of my reply:
I understand about the sex thing. I dont think you are 'fucked' up, i think the reason you would enjoy 'rough' sex is more like a control issue. when you were younger you had no control, now...its like you can decide how far it goes, its your choice. I'm no spycologist but thats how i feel.
Any one else feel this way? If you want to tell your story, even if its just to me I want you to know that I'm all ears and I can honestly say that after posting my story...it doesnt affect me like it used and I dont do this for me, I post em for you the readers who might not want to speak up, so you know that you are not alone. I do it for the ppl who want to speak up to help them get over it in my own lil way. And if you want to talk or tell your story I'm here.
Ary
