I think of when I was a child..

And i look at who I was…. I wonder.. who I would be now if he hadnt touched me… if he hadnt sexually abused me.. I know it stopped when I was six.. and I have no idea why… I make guesses… like i was sharing with my sisters who are 5 and 6 years older and maybe he was scared of being caught… I really dont know… and I never really confronted him before he died as I wanted nothing to do with him..

I have body memories which terrify me… because in them… i am younger than 3 when I thought he started abusing me… a lot younger… like maybe one years old…

its something that my brain refruits… it says does not compute and I cannot accept that… that he did… when I was one… its like trying to get inside a glass ball in my mind and I just slide off it…. I havent had any body memories for a few years now… but when I did I would feel so sick afterwards that I thought I would throw up… and I have a cast iron stomach folks.. . Most of the time anyway..lol

Sometimes I hate that I dont remember nearly everything he used to do… the others protected me in that way.. as I only have one real memory of him doing stuff… just enough for me to believe it was true.. I wonder sometimes what would have happened if I had told someone… if anything at all….

Now and again I will still go into denial even after 17 years.. of knowing what he did to me.. my brain will think what if….? what if I was just brainwashed by my ex … what if? I ruined a good mans life by telling everyone what he did to me… am I just crazy?

but then I wouldnt have the others would I? since they were made from severe sexual trauma…

Its funny you know… the memory that the others let me see was the day my mind shattered… I remember it like it was yesterday… the memory is tinged with green glass….

he is sitting on the end of the bed… my parents room is very neat.. and tidy… the bed made nicely.. everything put away… and he beckons me as I stand in the doorway… I walk over to him… he is holding something in his lap.. I get closer and I see its his dick… I look at him and he doesnt say anything.. he just reaches out and takes my hand … placing it on his dick and moves my hand….

and that is when I explode and shatter… the realisation that what he was doing was wrong… evil… he betrayed me that day… i cannot put into words the horror, disgust, anger, love, hate i felt at that moment… its indescribable.. and I fled …the glass in Alice’s mirror shattered and blew me away… far far away …. so far I got lost… lost in my mind.. for years….. and years….. I forgot..

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Author: thesecretaspieblog

I am more than my diagnoses, I am more than my past. I defy anyone to put me in a box and label who and what I am. I am exceptional. I am unique and so are you. Strive for the stars and you shall paint the world around you with ecstasy, laughter and empathy. Show compassion for those less fortunate. Do not forget the lost ones. Stand up for human rights and social justice. I have been labelled Autistic by therapists, I have been labelled with Multiple Personality Disorder by psychiatrists. On Fetlife I am labelled an Owner, a Cuckoldress and a Mistress. Labels do not define who you are but give others an idea of what you are and that is all. Be more than just a label.

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