Lilita's Story

I am 30 now and I am single. I was molested by my father's brother at the age of 2 or younger, I am not sure how young I was. Then my father molested me. He had intercourse with me regularly since the age of 3 or 4 til age 13. My oldest and only brother had sex with me once also. He initiated it as well. I had already been abused by my father, so I thought that was what little girls were suppossed to do even if it felt bad. I was miserable, just miserable. On top my father exposed us kids to physical abuse to my mother. He also abused her verbally. He had affairs with other women and he drank until he lost consciousness. I blocked the sexual abuse by my father. I never forgot what my uncle and brother did to me, but I did repress the feelings. My mother was a very needy woman who was very busy surviving herself, so she was also negligent, inadequate as a mother and just emotionally absent, some times physically abusive herself. I was a very obedient girl since very little! , I tried to please my father because I learned his unhappiness was my fault, my mother kind of encouraged this belief because she was also very obedient to him and she often put his needs before hers and ours (kids). I am a middle child (out of 5 kids). So I did my best at school. My father came to the USA before us,, one year later he brought us from Mexico and the rest from getting sexually used by him was over. I hated his guts. The physical abuse to my mother also continued. As I got older my ability to contain it and repress it got harder to imposible. I went to college but I was unable to concentrate and function. I started drinking but stopped because I knew it'd kill me, then I started smoking, but I didn't keep it up because I knew I'd become addicted. I was always a compulsive eater and I always felt rather inadequate, not attractive, uncomfortable with my body. One night I got drunk I kissed some stranger and that drove me insane. I went to a therapist who ! kind of pushed me to talk about what I remembered. I was able to scream outloud it wasn't my fault. Pandora's box was opened. I didn't have enough tools to deal with the rest of the abuse. Unconsciously I fought to keep it repressed. I lost a lot of weight starving myself, I started sleeping around. I had sex with men out of spite if they seemed not to like me, or if they seemed to like me. A couple of times I was drunk and so were they. I pushed my sisters away from me. I got very sick and irational. I then decided to stick to a college aquaintance who was in a similar situation as me. The relationship was not healthy. We'd have disconnected sex, and we'd act as if there was something wrong, or dirty with it. With time part of me realized there was nothing wrong with it and despite me and him cheating on each other and not treating each other with the respect and emotional attention we needed, I learned to feel for him. He left, I felt used, abandoned, at the same time I wa! sn't surprised. Part of me loved him, part of me never got to trust him, part of me felt it made sense, part of me stayed angry for the abandonment. Just like my feelings towards my father. I also had trouble keeping a job longer than a year, than longer than 5 months. I was able to graduate from college but I havent been able to move ahead in a career. I dread being noticed, I feel awful vulnerable, I am usually depressed and I often feel ashamed of my sadness and low self esteem. I have been facing my memories and feelings for three years. I knew there was a lot, a lot to face, so it makes sense why I postponed it. At times I wish I hadn't but I was unconscious of a lot of stuff and that made it harder for me to deal with it. Now I am more aware of my hypervigilance, my social phobia, at times I feel agorophobia, I still experience a lot of body aches, back, stomach, chest, limb, head, even face aches. And it's usually sadness or anger, or fear. At times I feel pain betwee! n my legs, I can usually tell what it is, I think I am more afraid of my feelings. Depression is disabling, anxiety can be also at times. HOlding my feelings is tiresome and having them too. And all this I have it to thank my uncle, my brother, but mostly and especially my father. This is what my father did to me. He used me sexually in all ways you can think of, I still feel shame for that. My father's name is Luis and he did things to me I can't even describe here. I wonder how ashamed he'd feel if he knew I talk about him and the abuse. I wish all survivors well, may God help us all. Feel free to email me. Lilita