I know it wasn’t my fault. I know it’s not my fault it happened… but the after effects, the things I deal with now, I feel like I should be able to get past it. I hate how hypersexual I am. I hate that I need the pain. I hate that I think of him when someone touches me. All this therapy, for what?? I disgust myself.
Parents are divorced and I’ve always gone between my mom and dad’s house. What’s an excuse to use to stop going over to his house without telling my mom everything?
My story goes back to when I was about twelve years old. I had walked out alone to pick up some groceries, and right away on the way there, I saw a man. An instant, heavy feeling hit me that something bad was about to happen.
Being just a kid, I brushed it off. Even though I still felt the danger, I kept walking and went to buy what I needed. At the time, he walked off in another direction, but the relief did not last. Once I finished at the cashier, I saw him again. When I left the store, he started following me.
Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and tried to pull me away with him. Because my parents had always taught me never to go anywhere with strangers, I told him I could not go because I was not allowed. I tried to stall him by saying I would come back some other time and arrange it. Then he threatened me, saying that if I did not show up the next day at a certain time and place, he would beat the crap out of me. Scared, I just said okay and agreed.
The nightmare did not stop there.
Instead of leaving me alone, he followed me all the way home, walked right into our garage, pulled down my pants, and tried to assault me. Thankfully, he could not finish in time and ended up fleeing. I remember being terrified and completely shaken up, and I ran inside to tell my parents everything.
My dad immediately bolted outside to try and catch him, but the man was long gone. I took a shower right away because I felt completely disgusted, even though he had not managed to fully hurt me.
Later on, we actually found out who he was, but my parents decided not to file a police report out of fear that he might retaliate and target my sisters.
A few months or maybe a year later, he somehow remembered me. He tracked down where I went to school and started waiting for me on my walk home. The moment I saw him, I bolted back to the school bus, begged the driver to take me back to school, and had my parents come pick me up.
He pulled that same stunt two or three more times. On one occasion, he almost got me; the school bus had just dropped me off, and as I was walking toward my house, he came rushing after me. I sprinted inside just in time. That ended up being the last time he tried to corner me.
Long after that, I would occasionally see him around the neighborhood. He would see me, too, but he never did anything. Even so, I swear to God, every single time I laid eyes on him, my body would flush hot, goosebumps would cover my skin, and pure fear would take over.
Thinking back to that very first encounter, right after it happened, my young mind started trying to figure out what he had actually been trying to do to me. I honestly do not even know how it crossed my mind to look into it at that age, but I did. To my complete surprise, I discovered that males and females have different bodies down there.
One thing led to another, and now, seventeen years later, I am trapped in a deep pornography and masturbation addiction that I just cannot break.
I am in my early thirties, and all I want is to get married. I want to come home from work, hug and kiss my wife, share a meal together, and go to sleep next to someone. But looking at where I am now, I honestly wonder if marriage is even in the cards for me. Day by day, the fear of dying alone creeps in. The funniest and most painful part is that none of this was even my fault, right? Someone assaulted me, me, and somehow I am the one left behind to deal with the broken pieces and stay stuck, while I am sure that predator is out there married with his own kids by now.
Aside from the addiction, normal adult content does not do anything for me anymore. My brain constantly craves something more extreme, something new every single time.
I desperately want to leave all of this behind, but I am completely unable to do it on my own. There is also another health-related issue that makes getting married difficult. It crushes my self-esteem, and I feel like it is one of the main reasons I keep falling back into this cycle.
I have noticed that my biggest trigger for watching adult content is whenever I feel like a failure or go through tough times in life. That is always when the urge hits the hardest.
I have never been to escorts or anything like that, and I do not support it, because I truly believe in saving myself for marriage.
I am not entirely sure what I am looking for by sharing all of this, but I have been praying that someone would guide me and point me in the right direction. I am just hoping my prayers are answered through reaching out here.
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.