Cathy's Story

I’ve read many of the stories on this site and some of them really hit home as to how I feel and how these things have effected me and my life. I feel that I have lost a lot more then my childhood because of this. Reading these stories I have realized that a lot of other people feel the things I do. I tried and I know that I am not really ready to actually talk about this but I thought that maybe I could feel a little bit better if I was able to write about it in an anonymous setting, so here goes:

One of my first memories is sitting in my father’s best friend's car in a backyard 4 houses down from where I live. I was told to think of this guy
as my uncle. He would put his hands down my pants, up my shirt and kiss me
on my mouth. I am not really sure the first time it happened but I really don’t remember a time when it wasn’t happening. I knew that what was happening didn’t feel like it was ok but he would tell me that it was ok because he loved me and that I was such a good girl that I deserved it. He also told me that I shouldn’t tell anyone because they wouldn’t think anything was wrong about it and that they would punish me for thinking that there was something wrong with it. My parent’s did not abuse me but I was not a stranger to a wood spoon or belt if I did something my parents deemed wrong. So I was scared that that would happen. After everyone of these visits he would give a few dollars usually $2 or $3 bucks. Little by little as I got older he started to do more things too me. When I was 6 he pulled down his pants for the first time and told me to close my eyes and give him my hand that he had a present for me. That was the first time that he taught me to jerk him off some weeks later he started to have me blow him.
I couldn’t tell my parents about what was going on but when I was 7 and my sister was 5 I asked her if our uncle ever made her do things? She told me yes and that was the end of the conversation we have never spoken about it again. From that day on I never allowed her to be alone with him. If my father tried to ask her to go to his garage to borrow something I would go instead. When I was 7 or 8 he fucked me for the first time. He would tell me that I was his special little girl and that he loved me more then anyone else. Since he was my parents trusted friend I would often be left alone with him, the first time he tried to fuck me I was in the shower and my father stepped out of the house to get cigarettes and he came in with me. I knew that what he was doing was wrong but I felt powerless to stop any of
this. This went on until I was 12. To this day I have never told many
people.

The night before my 21st birthday I was raped walking home from work. It was just after midnight I was on my own block about 15 houses away from mine. This guy came up from behind me and put his hand over my mouth and flipped me over a small garden fence. I landed on my back and he jumped on top of me. He tried kissing me as he had his hand over my throat trying to choke me. I tried fighting back but he was bigger then me and I don’t get very far. He repeatedly slapped me across my face and head with some sort of metal stick. I felt my self start to lose consciousness and I guess he felt that too because that was when I heard him unzip his pants. That made me fight harder but he started to choke me again. I remember seeing a flash of light at that point and then nothing else. I am not sure if that light was from the house that we were in front of or what. I am not sure what happened after that or for how long I was passed out. I am not sure if he did rape me or not but I think he did. When the cops came to me in the hospital that night I told them that I didn’t think he did and I refused to allow them to do a rape kit on me. Therefore the hospital treated me for the cuts and bruising and released me.

I have problems keeping any sort of a relationship because I don’t feel that I am good enough. I prefer one night stands to long term relationships because it’s less intimate and I don’t deserve any happiness that it would bring. After one of those one night stands I will beat myself up over it because I know that it’s the wrong thing for me to do. Half the time I feel like a basket case because I never know what I want to do whether it is for the afternoon or my career. I don’t think I deserve anything good so I will sabotage myself. I do think of suicide often, but I don’t think I will succeed so I haven’t tried it lately. I know that all this is the root cause of these feelings but I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about it.
I’ve tried and it was just one more thing I have failed at. I am scared to
do it because I think they will blame me for it all. I think/hope that
writing about it all maybe one step in the right direction...