Over the last year I have dedicated time to recalling what happened to me when I was sexually abused. I do think that to just get over it is healthy. I often had emotional outbursts thinking about what happened to me during that time of my life, however, I am not doing this to help just myself, but hopefully to help others understand what was going through my mind while I was being sexually abused. I wanted to research this because I feel I can help others who have been sexually abused, and also educate parents and teachers on the subject.
Since writing this I have realized writing this article helped me a lot: I don’t feel so alienated by the experience at all anymore. I feel really good about myself for doing this and I have received feedback from many people with great support. This article has had literally hundreds of reads on many sites across the world wide web where I have published it. I feel that growth in esteem and perhaps just getting older in general has made me change a lot.
How it happened, and how my behavior and esteem were changed by it.
NOTE: The Freedom of Information Department has graciously done their jobs and allowed me to correct numbers in this node. As of this day, at 22 years old (I wrote this at 17) I have bipolar disorder (type 1) and antisocial personality disorder.
The sexual abuse probably started at about five. It started while staying at my maternal grandfather's house. My grandmother was in the room when he first exposed himself to me. I was very curious as to what he was doing and why he was doing it. He made her out to be an evil witch, which was easy, she was horrible. She herself was a victim to physical abuse from the bastard.
It is not like he physically hurt me to do things, he didn't tell me that certain things were nice (as this said prior), he just needed to create physical pleasure. Part of me I feel knew something was strange about what he was doing because of the pure silence he wanted that first time. "Shh!" he would say constantly if I said anything that could be considered suspicious by maternal grandmother in the room. This was when I was about five.
At about six years old a teacher wrote a letter home to my father and mother. It stated that I was a very bright child, despite being utterly non-compliant, and I can remember well myself that I hated coloring in and all I wanted to do is read. I would lift girls dresses and all kinds of things. The letter wrote of suicidal ideation and all kinds of things I can't really remember, except a strong desire to learn how to just blow up the school. I am sure what went through my mind went through every kid that ever opened fire on his classmates.
The letter lead to be seeing a psychologist Dr John Redman who is in Morwell, Victoria, Australia. I feel like pointing out who he is because the genius (sarcasm) noticed that I had a relatively high IQ of 122 that "gee wizz, this kids worked out sexuality all on his own." I have this letter from him as well, in family records I discovered. I remember my genius parents told her parents, and that is when the worst part of it started. The bastard, as I shall call him henceforth, was furious with me.
I would say slightly sexual things at home and my grandfather taught me to blame the grade six girls. I didn't know what it was about them. By seven I was at another school and he would tell me how to do things to my female friends, just about every night after school I would give a friend of mine a killer orgasm with oral sex. Around this time, I could get an erection, and he would perform oral on me as well. One of the worst memories from a recent flashback is on my elbows and knees and he pushed my head so I could see him going inside me and out.
At around seven it was discovered I had trush, and that set off some alarm bells. I told the useless woman I called my mother what happened and who did it. All she did was cry about it, hysterically, her doctor had to prescribe her antidepressants just to "get out of bed in the morning," as she would say. In my moment of crises, she decided to break down and give up on the world. Some people think I should be more understanding of what she was going through, this just sums up how fucking ignorant people were to what I was going through at seven years old. Literally nobody cared, and everyone seemed to gang up on me in a punishment bonanza.
The greatest hardship was society. That is that despite I had been sexually abused, and especially at schools like my first highschool I knew it became a mechanism of constant punishment. In year seven a girl accused me of groping her, I didn't. The school cooridnator for freshmen rang my mother, and my mother the attention whore told her. That year any small thing I did that was sexual (and as everyone remembers from high school that everyone did things like that) it was suddenly like a crime punished guilty until proven innocent. Molestered guys have trouble with that. I will never forgive my mother.
By my second year of highschool, as a result of what kept occasionally happening, I began to hate all women. Sorry girls, but I really did just hate women. With a few young teenage girls doing everything they could to complain about how creepy I was, I decided to use the new persona I had been given by those girls at school and even my own mother. On one occasion, a boy kept hanging around, we didn't want him to so I simply bent him over with my arms and told him he had to fuck me (pretty nasty, but its not like I raped him, and I at least asked for his consent). My mother beat me the next day when the teacher told me, and told me I was exactly like the man who abused me. This kind of thing crushed me on the inside.
We moved to the Suburbs from the sleepy town of Latrobe Valley. I had constant troubles with self-esteem at the previous school. At the new school I had absolutely no social confidence, I didn't know how to get out of trouble. So my subconsious did it for me, I never spoke to anyone, I never told anyone anything about myself. Off school grounds, I wasn't so bad, I could be talkative and I even had a girlfriend. I made a descion when I had that lovely girl, Bec, that I would be innocent for the first time in my life. I wouldn't seek them out and fuck them, I wouldn't do anything.
Eventually the problem got too bad for me, not talking. Anyone could bully me, as I couldn't talk let alone fight back. Silence was my only answer and I built a world of my own in my mind. I tried to tell my mother, but she just assumed my problems were due to being a smartarse. This of course, was as usual, insane. My dad I can't blame for much, being also socially slow but with a topping of naievity. Self-esteem was inside me however for the first time in my life, thanks to my father teaching me a lot about electronics and computers. A feeling of being superior to everyone kept me going for a couple of years.
After a drug addiction, and other problems, I learned about Ayn Rand, and Objectivism. Thanks to that great philosopher I discovered that my mind had value. I do things that most Objectivists don't. I have learned that the most forgotten entity is the individual in society. I believe this story stands as a testament to the fact that valuing the collective over the individual. A lot of people reading this are seeking answers yourself, and I assure you, they exist. You must learn to value yourself by your own standard. The opinions of others.
If you suspect someone is being sexually abused, it is not just the right thing to do to speak out, it is your duty and responsibility to do so. If you are unsure of what to do, and yes it is very hard to make a decision, I myself being very involved now in helping people with sexual abuse, rape, and many other things including domestic violence and child abuse have discovered it is not easy for most people to know what to do. I suggest if this is your circumstances you talk to a councilor or a therapist that will know the appropriate path of action for the victim and the child.
I hope this essay can educate others. If you disagree with any opinions in the article feel free to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org and share your points with me. Also feel free to contact me on any of your own problems, questions, regarding yourself, your children, your students. I don’t know everything, but I know of many resources, and people that can help you understand things.
I would like to thank Daniel Farmilo for assisting me with editing this article. I wish people would write articles like it for this node, so it can become a great place. The businessman deep inside me also says that, this is probably still linked to from that dirtpile Wikipedia, contribute here and end sillyness (this site is superior).