u/HamsterExtension5000

Hi I'm 21f. I'm looking for people from Fonds Verrettes, or the whole of Croix-Des-Bouquets. I was adopted in 2007 and I was three years old, but I believe I was in the now Enfant Jeunese Orphanage much before that.

I know my birth parents names but I can't share because of privacy reasons I guess. I will say my father's surname is Jean Paul and my mother's Pierre, which I imagine are the most common and generic haitian surnames lol. But anyway, If these ring a bell to someone please contact me.

I know there was a flood that same year I was born, 2004 in May. My mom was pregnant with me at the time so she must have survived it because I wouldn't be here. Anyway, if you have any info I will be very grateful!!

If anyone is curious, the adoption was kind of sketchy. The adoption agency ( Different from Enfant Jeunesse) doesn't exist anymore and it's kind of creepy. I don't really know if it was all that legal to be honest.

So When I was 5 or 6 (timelines are blurry) I began being molested by my step brother. I was adopted and my mom and his father weren't even married, but I will can him that just to make it easier.

It turned into full on child on child csa, and I have already forgiven him in my heart for that, because most likely he was exposed to stuff or someone did that to him first. He was only like 3-4 years oalder than me so I bet he wasn't even doing it thinking straight because he was a literal child, and so was I.

This haunted me for the rest of my life though. He made me do everything you can think of. I would have nightmares for the rest of my life until now (I'm 21). Something that I learned a few years ago, is that I had been sleepig with my hand in my private area, like covering it, I guess subconsciously in fear of something happening while I slept. I had been doing that for yeatrs without even realising.

But what really wrecked me, was what my mom did to me, because to me it is far more disturbing and disgusting.

When she finally broke up with the douche and my abuse stopped, because we didn't go to their house anymore, my mom decided to traumatize me further. She started self pleasuring in our sofa. With my childhood electric toothbrush. (When I confronted her three years ago she tried to deny and gaslight me telling me it was a satisfyer, even though I saw it with my own eyes).

That broke something in me further, because I was already hypersexual from the continued molestation, I already had a corn and self pleasure problem, and imagine what this did to me. It was disgusting, and she knew I knew. In my already fucked up brain, I started replicating her and doing the same. I was already so fucked up and this was the cherry on top.

It wasn't until a few years ago that I realised what had had been happening. Because all that time I was on autopilot, coping. I wasn't present there. My consciousness was somewherelse, and the trauma was controling my body, filling me with shame fear and disgust. I realized how disturbing my life had been. I still have this body discomfort when I think about my life and the past, It's like I wana rip off my skin, explode and turn into ashes, that's how disturbed I am by the memories.

I confronted my mom three years ago and told her she traumatized me. She tried justifying it saying that self pleasuring is normal. She did say she was sorry for what my step brother did to me. But I didn't hear a single apology from her disgusting actions.

Months later I found her doing it again and I exploded on her, telling her I have no respect fro her anymore. Now, three or four years later, I know she doesn't give a crap, because I have found her doing it again, and making it louder when I'm in proximity. Because she is sick and has a sick mind.

After telling her all she did to me, how she caused me fucking life long nightmares, how I still have innapropiate dreams about her, how I can't relax in my own home, how she destroyed me, she kept doing it.

So yeah, I can't wait to mov out and never talk to her again.

I hate how just because she is a woman, when I tell the story, it's automatically "not that serious". Okay, so I've told friends and my partner everything, and they have 100% validated me. BUT, I can't help think about if that had been a man, my father, they would have been more outraged. They would've been a million times more disgusted. And that enrages me sometimes.