I grew up with the perfect mother and a raging alcoholic for a father. Two people who were as opposite as opposite could be. They had been married for a

year when they had me, their first child.

It was apparent to me from a very early age that there were problems with my parents marriage. He shouted, screamed, threw things and his behaviour was

very unpredictable. He drank every day and heavy arguments would ensue.

I heard my dad frequently say to my mother "Get out of my house and take YOUR kid with you". He had fabricated a story in his head that my mother had a

'boyfriend' and that she betrayed him. This was complete crap and I KNOW that he is my biological father. There was never any other guy involved with my

mother, he was just paranoid. When he was sober, he would never spend any time with me. He would never have eye contact with me, didn't play with me, talk

to me, read to me, nothing. My mother brought me up and he acted like he didn't want me to exist.

"You're a mistake"
"You're not mine"
"Don't call me dad"
"I'm not your dad"
"You ruined my life"

My parents split up very briefly for a few months and then got back together and had another child, my brother. This was a completely different situation.

He was my father's pride and joy. He got all of the love & attention that I never did. He still never left me alone. He tormented me with his words and

conducted himself in a manner as if I was worthless.

Things started to get physical when I was around 6/7 years old. My mother worked evenings and he would be home with me. My brother was too young to

see/understand what was happening. He was treated like a child should be. Like I never was.

I was hit, pushed down the stairs, smacked, kicked, punched, my dad used to take off his belt and smack me across the face with it. When I cried he did it

again, he used to scream at the top of his voice "STOP CRYING. STOP FUCKING CRYING".

I would be in bed by the time my mother got home so she knew nothing of any of this. He told me if I opened my mouth I would be more sorry than i'd ever

been before. If I did the slightest thing wrong, he just lost it with me.

The sexual abuse didn't start until my teens, but from the age of 7 to about 10, his actions changed and he started doing strange things. He started

coming into my room on a night, and he would put his hands on me. He didn't speak, but he would look at me in the eyes, this was the only time he would

ever engage in eye contact with me. He would put his hands on both of my wrists and just hold them together tightly. He would put his hand on my thigh and

just hold it there for a while. Then he would being to squeeze as tightly as he could until it hurt me. I wouldn't make a sound but my facial expression

indicated that it hurt, and he would just smile.

He would put his hand over my mouth and just hold it there for minutes on end. It would seem like forever. At this time he was not sexually touching me,

or at least no sexual actions were being performed. I was terrified, but when he did this I was just glad that he wasn't using his belt.

I was so terrified of this man, I developed a fear of night time. I would become anxious and associate physical abuse with darkness. I began wetting the

bed frequently, it would take me hours and hours to fall asleep at night and I would experience nightmares.

When I was around 10/11 years old, he was still coming into my room, but things started to change. He started putting his hands under my shirt, on my

chest and just touching me up and down. It had been going on for so long that when he put his hands on my penis for the first time I just remained in my

silent state, knowing I wasn't allowed to stop him or say anything. At first he was just touching me, holding me while he would stare into my eyes. I

didn't dare not look at him, so we would be locked in a stare. He would have one hand over my mouth and with the other he would feel me.

Things changed again when he exposed himelf for the first time. He started taking my hand and putting it on his penis. He would just make me hold it and

leave my hand there while he played with me. He would then take his penis and put it in my mouth while he jerked himself off. I remained frozen and silent

every time. I just let him use me. He would ejaculate on my face and in my mouth. It happened over and over again.

When i was 13 he penetrated me for the first time. I cried the whole time while he held his hand over my mouth. For the first time during all of the

encounters he spoke to me. He told me he knew I liked it and that I wanted it. It hurt so much. I allowed him to do this to me.

I would get into the shower for 2 straight hours and just stand there trying to wash my skin off. I became obsessed with being clean.
I developed a complex and started brushing my teeth for a whole hour at a time. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't erase the taste from my mouth.
I became empty and disconnected.
I wouldn't eat for days.
I started cutting myself and just sitting there watching myself bleed for hours.

He destroyed who I was.

The end came when my mother divorced him when I was 15 years old. I remained frightened for several years that it wasn't over, there was more to come.

Even now I still hold this fear. What if?. My mother still has no idea what happened to me.

Now.

I have a burning desire for intimate affection, but I am deathly afraid of anyone being emotionally connected to me.
I don't want to be hurt again, yet I crave someone to just take me and abuse me one more time.
I want everyone to know who I really am, but I will never drop the act that I am normal.
I am terrified of being gay, but all I think about is being with a guy.
I want to be straight, but I don't want to be with a girl.
I want to be fixed, but I want to stay broken.


Thank you for reading all this. If you want to share anything with me, please send me a private message